thelma two toes fell through the ice

(Part of the bacon pete series of short stories. As always any and all feedback will be appreciated.)

WARNING: Strong language and content.

thelma two toes fell through the ice crossing pollys gut.

she wasn’t drunk.

thelma two toes didn’t drink anymore.

the ice crossing pollys gut off island road was usually solid enough to walk on that time of year. the ice breakers never came that way and it was just a short walk across to massena point. 

and thelma wasn’t getting fat.

the ice just broke and thelma fell through.

thelma two toes almost drowned right away. her nose and mouth filled up with icy cold water. she sank down deep in the icy water and couldn’t find the hole she fell through. she dragged herself underneath the ice breathing the air between the water and the bottom of the ice for what seemed like forever. a lifetime. luckily she was wearing a good parka. her legs went all numb and she lost her mittens so her hands went all numb too.

it was cold that day.

it was real cold that day.

she should have been at the restaurant sweating in the kitchen but on cold days like this hardly anyone came out so myrna could handle the one or two people who did show up. buckshot would show up. that asshole always showed up for his big breakfast and his pie

that day was blueberry pie.

thelma had fallen through the ice once before. when she was little. her and myrna were crossing from the island to the city and thelma fell through. back then their mom always made them carry a hockey stick in both hands so thelma didn’t fall all the way through. the hockey stick kept her from going all the way. she got frost bite in one foot but they didn’t have to cut off any of her toes.

their grandpa had fallen through and got frost bite and lost three of his toes on one foot. the priest at the residential school wrote his last name as two toes because that’s what everybody on the island called him.

thelma two toes would be lucky if she didn’t lose some toes or some fingers.

thelma two toes would be lucky if she got out of this one alive. she knew all the stories about people who fell through the ice and drowned because they couldn’t find the hole they fell through. that’s why her mother made them carry a hockey stick when they walked across the ice. that’s why everybody was always warning about falling through the ice.

thelma toe toes wished she had a hockey stick now.

some kind of stick.

thelma two toes wished she never stopped carrying that hockey stick or some kind of stick to keep her from falling all the way through the ice.

nobody even knew she was out here at pollys gut on the ice.

not even myrna knew thelma was out here.

it would probably take till spring or even summer before her body floated up and got found by somebody. bodies washed up every year that fell through the ice but thelma always thought they had to be drunk to fall through the ice like that. she always figured you got to know the ice and the places you could cross like pollys gut by the time you grew up. if you lived long enough to grow up. you had to be drunk or stupid to fall through the ice once you grew up.

but here thelma two toes was underneath the ice and she wasn’t drunk. she felt pretty stupid but she wasn’t drunk.

she dragged herself along the ice breathing that thin layer of air and tried to look for the cracks from where she fell in.

thelma remembered her teacher giving them safety tips about falling through the ice like if you were with another person they could pound on the ice so you could find the hole by following the sound. there wasn’t anybody to pound the ice for thelma two toes and there wouldn’t be anybody to look for her around pollys gut.

she was screwed.

thelma was almost definitely going to die.

her fingers were burning from touching the ice. her legs were so numb she could barely get them to move.

her grandpa used to tell stories about the river and how it used to be something to be scared of back before the whitemen built the seaway. how it would break canoes on its rapids in places like long sault and how the breath of the cold north ocean could freeze you to death in minutes if you weren’t careful. how the ice could break for no good reason and the river would swallow you up without anybody even knowing.

but this was the new whiteman’s river.

the seaway.

it was tame. it wasn’t anything like the mighty river that it used to be.

but that wasn’t going to stop it from killing thelma two toes.

-crap. thelma breathed up into the ice. -jesus god crap. jesus god help me.

she thought she felt a crack above her. it was hard to tell with her fingers so numb and burning.

it definitely looked like a crack.

whether or not it was a crack from the hole she fell through was another thing.

thelma took a breath and tried to decide which direction to follow the crack.

a dead sunfish slapped her in the cheek as it washed by her.

thelma decided to follow the sunfish.

one way was as good as the other.

-jesus god. thelma breathed. -jesus god please please help me.

she couldn’t think of the names of any of the old gods to pray to so she hoped jesus was listening.

thelma two toes followed the dead sunfish.

hopefully she had more luck than the fish.

#writing #writer #writers #poetry #poem #poems #poet #JulesDelorme #JulesFDelorme #delormewriting #ScarboroughWritersFightClub #baconpete #baconpeteandotherpeople #akwesasne #cornwall #cornwallisland# #stlawrenceriver #pollysgut #native #indigenous #indigenousstory #indegenousstories #indigenousstorytelling #shortstory #shortstories