Friends

B. was one of Kendall’s 2 best friends for a large part of his growing up years. His home life was so different from Kendall’s, with siblings in and out of foster care and alcohol abuse in the home, as well as other forms of abuse.

I love to think of Kendall growing up with this important friendship in spite of the huge differences. When we were here to visit over Christmas 2 years ago, B. heard that Kendall was in town and drove his family several hours in from Pikangikum to see Kendall on Christmas Eve. They have been in and out of touch since Kendall moved away at 18, but have seen each other several times since we’ve been living in Red Lake.

B. welcomed Kendall to his home with open arms and a big hug. We only spent an hour or so at his house, but the 2 friends had fun reminiscing. Following is the start to my favorite overheard conversation: B. asked, “Remember when we shot that skunk and we couldn’t be friends for a month?” Apparently B. went home smelling like skunk and was forbidden to hang out with Kendall.

B. is opening a bakery out of his home. He said there are so many “pop and chips” stores in town, this is something that will be new. (He said that when there were only a few people selling pop and chips, they could make $800 a day!) The bakery opens today, in fact, and yesterday they were making yummy things even as we sat in the living room. B. got the donut recipe from one of the Mennonite women here in Red Lake. Kendall teased him about being a Mennonite baker, but later couldn’t stop raving to me about how good the donuts were.

B.’s wife didn’t show up until we were getting ready to leave. She didn’t say much, we just smiled at each other shyly. I have picked up that silence is okay and good in the Native culture. And I remembered when she came with B. to visit us over Christmas. She sat quietly on the couch beside her husband. When I tried to ask her questions, her answers were minimal or she let B. talk for her. So I felt little pressure to make conversation yesterday and just smiled while our husbands talked.

Evan and Eli sat on the couch eating donuts and watching a movie. Their hands were sticky after the donuts. The kitchen was busy with the baking and I didn’t see a washroom in the house- only the outhouse outside. So I quietly told them that they could wipe their hands on their shirts. Evan reported our conversation to Daddy: “Mommy said it’s my lucky day to wipe my hands on my shirt.”

I think it was Kendall’s lucky day too: Drinking coffee in his buddy’s home, talking about the good ol’ days.