I’m nice and warm wrapped up in my blankets. I gaze through the blackness at the window above the wash basin in the kitchen. The pale light of day is just taking shape.

Quiet as a lynx, I slip on my clothes and tiptoe over to Pinamen. I kneel at the head of her bed. She is lying on her back and I can scarcely see her. I bring my lips to her ear, bury my face in her hair. I stay like that for a moment, not moving. I drink in the scent of her.

“Pinamen…it’s time,” I whisper.

“Mmmm…” She barely stirs.

“Are you coming with me?” I’m worried that she has changed her mind.

But she nods.

“Yes, I’m coming,” she murmurs.

I lean my head against her chest. The beats of her heart are steady. In my ear they sound like the beating of a drum from far away. She puts her hand on my head and strokes my hair. She is breathing deeply, still wrapped up in sleep.

Daylight starts to creep in the window. It’s time for us to leave.

“I’ll wait for you on the dock.”

“I’m coming.”

It rained during the night, and the roof is still dripping. The damp earth is dark, and the long lacy branches of the pines are bent over with moisture. The canoe is covered with dew.

Pinamen comes down. She hands me Frank’s jacket and I put it on. She is wrapped in a thick shawl, and her black beret is pulled right down to her ears in the Attikamek style. She is so beautiful and calm. She tucks her bag under the bench and unties the ropes. The canoe glides on the still, early-morning water.

I love the peace and quiet of early morning. It’s as if a new life is being born. Even in town, it was the time of day that I liked the best.

The motor catches on the third pull, and soon the camp disappears behind us. The canoe looks ghostly in the mist clinging to the lake.

For the first time, Pinamen and I are really alone. She is staring at the black water lapping against the canoe. She is lost in her thoughts, her arms crossed in front of her chest, a bit bent over.

I can navigate with no problem, but I go slowly. I don’t want to rush these wonderful moments.

Not far away, the mist is breaking up, burned away by the first rays of sun. I would like to pull Pinamen out of her daydreams, but I don’t know how to start. I slow down, and the canoe glides on the dark blue mirror of the lake.

The lacy tops of the big pines are reflected in the calm water. A couple of ospreys dive from a good distance, as if they are watching us out of the corner of their eyes.