“‘There were a bunch of reasons I brought you kids here.’ He sighed and stared out the window. ‘Some kind of birds working out there. Crossbills?’ His jaw moved. He started to speak a few times. ‘Pandora’s box.’ He chuckled. He glanced down at his rough swollen hands. ‘To the Eskimos the land was everything. They knew the land.’ His hands gripped each other. ‘I think I was thinking that there wasn’t time left… to let you grow up and find your own wilderness. City,’ he rubbed his ears. ‘It’s everything about insulating you from the earth. I didn’t want to work some job just to afford to get out to the wilderness once in a while. You can’t have both. I like life close to the earth. It’s alive. The city made me feel wrapped up and a long way from myself. Heck, maybe I’ve just been selfish!’ He smiled his big beautiful straight-teeth smile. He worked his sock back on and folded the cuffs of his pants into his socks. I glanced away, faintly embarrassed—nobody since George Washington did that with their socks.
He rose and fiddled with the draft on the stove. ‘A part of you maybe is goigng to always be across the river from other people. You might be in for hard times. People believe in the city. They call it ‘the real world.’ Won’t be surprised if you’re not able to do that.’ He sounded curious, not sorry.
-from Seth Kantner’s Ordinary Wolves
