Don’t have a negative personality, ladies and gentlemen. Make them remember you when you leave the room. She said it daily, wagging her finger with its painted nails at them like they were mentally deficient, which of course they were to have parted with six hundred dollars for the privilege of listening to her bullshit.

A negative personality test. Moses Sitconski would have failed that one all right. Eric could hardly picture his features accurately at all, even now.

And his temperature. That guy just didn’t feel the cold. He never came in with a rosy face or stamped his feet or blew on his hands. Eric didn’t like that. He hadn’t really added all these things up before, and it was making him uneasy. Because there were other things too, and for some reason he didn’t really want to think about them. No, he didn’t. A knock at his door saved him from having to.

‘Come.’

Sam stepped in. Eric waved a hand for him to sit down, and he pulled the chair out, sat down gracefully, flicked his hair back and stared at Sindon. Now here’s a man with a positive personality, thought Eric. Hard not to notice six feet of handsome Indian with eyes that bored you to the wall.

Sindon sat back and swung a little more.

‘You first, Sam.’

Sam unzipped his jacket and ran a hand through his hair.

‘Look. Mr Sindon. I’ve been sick, you know? That’s why I just got back from the quack. The guy was a jerk and I lost it. Now if you want to step on me, take a number and get in line. I’ve kind of had enough.’

‘Some apology.’

‘I’m not going to apologize. I should have stuck his skis up his flabby ass.’

‘This is the … what is it? … fifth time?’

Sam shrugged.

‘It’s a service industry, Sam. We serve the public. You know that. You can’t do your job barking at paying customers like they just kicked your cat.’

‘Guess not.’

Eric sighed and leaned forward on his desk. ‘Look. I know the cops are bugging you ’cause you were there when the kid was killed, and …’

Sam’s face hardened slightly.

‘… and you’re an Indian. Not exactly RCMP mascot material.’

Sam’s face softened again. But not much.

‘So I’m gonna let this one go. But I warn you, and I fucking mean this, if you shit on any of our customers again I’ll drag you to the door myself and fire a shotgun at your ass. Understand?’

‘So no Happy Smile Staff bonus?’

‘Don’t push me.’

Sam shifted in his seat, looked down at the floor, and spoke quietly. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘So top station or lodge-side?’

‘Top station. It’s as cold as a whore’s heart up there and it’s all you deserve.’

‘Right.’

He got up to leave.