Finally I caught Louise drinking in the bar. I’ve hauled her out of the bar a hundred times and a hundred times more I’ve let her stay. That night I just wanted to be in the same room with her, Yellow Knife or not, legal or not. She turned to me with her wind-sweet smile and leaned so close to me I could smell the sweat in her hair. She put her head on my shoulder and said so low I almost couldn’t hear her, “Where would you like to be?” And I didn’t expect her to say that. The question caught me by surprise. I suppose the question could have meant a lot of things but what it meant to me that night was more than I wanted anyone to see. It was a question that drew me to her. And standing there in my uniform with the threat of getting tossed out on my butt, with the threat of losing my job and my standing in the community, I slipped a tight arm around her waist. We were quiet together for a long while. I left the bar alone. About the time I got close to home my belly was shaking and I was grinding my teeth, thinking there was a stupidity born in me I could never escape.

I knew I had to clamp down and focus on the business at hand. I couldn’t let myself be caught again in a compromising situation that wouldn’t do Louise or me any good. I wanted a little rest, a break from work. I had planned to stay home on my day off. Sleep in.

The phone woke me too early. I yanked the covers up over my head. The phone didn’t stop ringing. I pulled myself up. I picked up the receiver, not bothering to say hello. “Charlie?” the voice said. “Is that you, Charlie?” The woman had only spoken a few words but the voice was unmistakable. Dirty Swallow. I rubbed the bristle of my hair, blinked into the dark morning looming through the windows. “Can you tell me what this is about?” I said. I could hear the low buzzing wire humming between us. “Just you come,” she said.

It was five in the morning. I’d been in bed for three hours. Sleep was calling me, so I washed my face and pulled on my trousers. Dirty Swallow wasn’t a person to ignore. She had no problem getting even, and I didn’t want to add her to my long list of troubles. I wondered if this concerned Yellow Knife. “Son of a bitch,” I said, as I buttoned my shirt. “Son of a bitch.”