“You are even more beautiful than I imagined in my dreams. I want to marry you.”

There is silence in the canoe. I see the shadow of a big bird pass rapidly over her face.

“I know, I know!” I say. “I have no money, no skills. I don’t even know how to set a beaver trap or kill a moose with a rifle. That’s not what they taught me during all those years at the school. I have no territory, nothing to pass on. But I swear that I will do anything for you, for us, so that we can be happy!”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she says. “But when I was born, my mother promised me to another boy.”

“And you love him?”

“No! I love you, but it isn’t that simple.”

“Pinamen, times have changed. Your mother can’t make you marry a man if you don’t want to. You’d be unhappy for the rest of your life.”

Her hands are gripping my arms tightly.

“Nipishish, my whole family would reject me. But there’s more…”

Her voice is faint. I can see her turning pale.

“Please, Pinamen, tell me.” My voice is dull. I want it to be soft and convincing. “What is it that’s so hard to say?”

“Nipishish…”

She rests her hands on my shoulders and breathes in deeply.

“Nipishish, you’re a Métis!”

I feel as if I’ve been knocked over. I’m not sure I’ve understood. She doesn’t want to live with me because I’m Métis. My ears are humming. I feel as if I’m hearing her from a great distance.

Is it that terrible to be born of an Indian father and white mother?

I must be pale. I’m trembling. Pinamen sees my confusion.

“You have no band number,” she says quickly. “And if I marry you, I will lose mine. I become a white. That’s the law. Any Indian woman who marries a white is thrown off the reserve, and their children are whites without status. And I want to have lots of children…with you, Nipishish.”

She’s right. I know the law. I see the fix we’re in. I never thought of this. It’s like I’ve been struck by lightning, right here in the middle of the lake.

Long minutes pass while we drift. Pinamen is weeping silently.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I say quietly. “Let’s talk to Manie. She’ll find a solution. At least she can talk to your mother for us.”

I can see a glimmer of light in her eyes through the big tears that are rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s something that needs to be arranged by the women. I’ll take care of it,” she says.

I put my arms around her waist. Our lips touch softly. Then Pinamen buries her head in my neck like a bird burrowing in a nest. She wipes her hot tears on my skin. I wrap her in my arms and lean my forehead on her shoulder. I breathe slowly and deeply, and we let ourselves be rocked by the waves lapping against the sides of the canoe.