横浜市鶴見区に密着した地域型のスワンアカデミー英会話教室。未就園児から大人まで、3人までのグループレッスン、個人レッスン、セミプライベートレッスン、オンラインレッスン

Keelut opened his eyes and through a blur tried to make out his surroundings. He was covered with a dirty blanket and next to him was some native girl, fat and pockmarked. She must have looked better last night but after drinking whiskey like he did, they all looked good. The place smelled like farts. In the corner he could hear Morton Jenson snoring, turning his head he could see he was with an equally repulsive woman. In the other corner of the shack they occupied, slept Tobias Smith, alone. Even native whores thought he was ugly. It was just the three of them now. Rodgers had drowned two weeks before, not that Keelut really cared, his plan would work just as well with Jenson and Smith. He rubbed his temples, his tongue felt as if it were covered in fur. The hangover he was feeling didn’t improve his mood in anyway. He roughly shook the girl laying next to him with little regard on how she might be feeling. “Hey, get me some food, I’m hungry,” said Keelut. The girl pushed him away and continued to sleep. A swift kick made her open her eyes and sit up. “I said get me some food!” he growled. The girl nodded and quickly scurried away to do his bidding. Jenson cracked one eye open and raised himself up on one elbow. “Hey Keelut, what are ya yelling about over there?” “I’m hungry.” “Well, tell that bitch you’re with to get ya somethin’ to eat.” “I did,” said Keelut simply. Jenson shrugged his shoulders and laid down again. Best not to rile Keelut this early in the morning, he knew that from experience, oh yes he did. Keelut found the bottle he’d been drinking from the night before and seeing that it was still a quarter full, finished it off, best way to start the day as far as he was concerned. His life thus far had been one that contained no notable accomplishments, even he would admit that, but it wasn’t his fault. He had been unlucky, anyone who knew him would agree to that. It wasn’t his fault Ahnah refused him, it wasn’t his fault that Peter took his wife and the leadership of his band he was as much a victim as anybody, but that would soon change. He would show that sniveling band of Peter’s who should be in charge. They would learn. Feeling pressure on his bladder he went outside to pee. Opening the door of the shed he and the others occupied he was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight which forced him to stop and shield his eyes before moving on. Finding a dirty bank of snow, he pulled his penis out and relieved himself, the release of the fluid made him feel better and a little light headed. That done his eyes adjusted to the outside and he looked about. This trading post wasn’t much different from any of the others he’d been to. One main building, it served as quarters for the trader and a place to hold the goods bartered for and exchanged. An outlying shed or two like the one emerged from, which served various purposes. In the back was an accumulated pile of garbage, pieces of broken sleds, bits of iron, old paper, dirty wools, discarded pieces of food and bone, worthless skins rotting with age. At the moment, the only sled and dogs there, was what Keelut and his companions had stolen from further down the coast when the opportunity presented itself. They didn’t care about the family they had taken it from, why should they? It was enough for their purposes, it would due for the period it was required. Wondering what had happened to the girl he’d sent for food, he went into the main building of the trading post in search of her. The door creaked when he opened it, letting the post trader, a heavyset balding Dane with a drooping moustache by the name of Lars, know he was there. Keelut looked around, on the shelves were various canned goods and assorted items. Peaches, beans, salted meat, jarred pickles and onions. There were blankets, traps, guns and ammunition, knives, kettles, pots and pans, kerosene, oil, sugar, salt and pepper. There were furs, belts, boots and cloth, whiskey and syrup, all the riches of the world. But Keelut wasn’t concerned about those things at the moment. He was hungry, a primitive priority that overruled anything else at that particular moment, the need to fill his belly, raw hunger. He was looking for the girl. “What do you want?” asked the Dane watching the Eskimo with suspicion. “Keelut hungry,” he said lapsing into poor English, “girl bring Keelut food.” Lars shook his head and yawned, “The girl is busy.” “I’m hungry.” “The girl is busy, I told you.” Keelut banged his fist down on a table in the room, “Make her no busy!” he yelled, thinking he could intimidate the European as he had others and have his way. The Dane pulled out a large wooden club and slammed it down hard on the counter before him, fire in his eyes. “You listen to me you filthy fucking Indian, you don’t make demands, she not your property! She work for me!” Keelut gave the Dane a savage look. He wanted to kill this outsider who spoke to him in such a disrespectful way. “Now,” continued Lars, “I want you and those two fools you came with, out of here today, I don’t want you here.” Keelut sneered at the trader, “We will leave, do not eat your fucking food!” he spit on the wooden floor. “But you will be sorry, many sorry.” He left the building slamming the door for effect, he could hear the trader laughing as he stomped toward the shack and roused the men traveling with him. “Get up!” he shouted, “We leave.” “Where we going?” asked Smith. Jenson stood up pulling on his trousers. “Tobias, shut the hell up!” “Well, Gosh Morton, I was just askin’, that’s all.” “Shut up Tobias, we’re leaving.” “Ok, ok, but I gotta pee first,” said Smith. Keelut shook his head and walked outside to the sled they were using, the trader was right about one thing they were fools. It didn’t take him long to hitch up the dogs, afterwards he smoked a cigarette while he waited for the others, he had time to think. Time was running out, he could feel it. He’d have hurry his plans to accomplish what he wanted…his revenge against all those who plotted against him, who pushed him into the situation he was in. They would pay. Jenson and Smith approached the sled, their faces reflecting the drinking from the night before. “We’re ready Keelut,” said Jenson. “Hey Keelut, where we going?” asked Smith again. Jenson expected Keelut to answer in anger if anything at all and was surprised when he heard the Inuit speak in a quiet voice. “That way Tobias,” he said pointing to the southwest, “to the place of the Strong one.” They traveled for ten days, taking little rest on the way. Jenson and Smith knew better than to ask questions, Keelut would share with them when he was ready and considering they were strangers in a strange land, they had little choice in the matter. On the afternoon of the tenth day, they arrived at their destination, a camp of about 60 men and their women folk. Jenson could see that these Eskimos were different. They weren’t the docile natives accepting hardship as it came their way, but a harder group of people, heavily armed used to causing hardship for others. These were renegades. Keelut was obviously known and greeted by some, while Jenson and Smith were looked on with suspicion. They did not make new friends easily, they had little need to, there were no guests in this camp, only those who were supposed to be there and those that weren’t. “Wait,” said Keelut without turning around and entered a tent, leaving his companions with the sled. Inside the tent it was dark and it took a few moments for Keelut’s eyes to adjust, when they did his sight fell upon a dirty little man with long greasy hair and a permanent frown. He was called Lak, the leader of the renegades. “Well Keelut, do you know things?” Keelut nodded, “Yes Lak. Ahnah spoke of a ship, in the cold places among the heavy ice and men with dogs and sleds, Peter is moving the band farther that way.” “How will you know the ship?” “Whaling ships don’t normally carry sleds or a lot of dogs, one, two at the most. From what Ahnah told me before, these men would be travelers so their ship will carry these things and there are…other things.” “Can you find this ship?” asked Lak. “Yes, I think I know where it might be.” “And you think it will be soon?” “Yes,” said Keelut, “I feel it. Ahnah is Angakkug and known. All her life she’s waited for this ship. It will be soon.” “What of Peter’s band?” Peter’s band, Keelut stiffened at the reference. It should be his band, his people. He controlled himself and answered the renegade leader. “They are weak, no match for you Lak, together we can take what we want.” Lak smiled, “together” was a concept that he found somewhat foreign, the small man was leader because of it. “Guns?” asked Lak. “The Dane trader has them, it won’t be difficult.” “And you believe we can take this ship?” “Yes, the whole ship!” said Keelut with excitement, “the outsiders have many and this one will provide. All people will know you and you will have more power, you will have a ship!” Lak smiled, he was no fool, like Keelut, he too had an agenda of his own. The people that needed to know him did, he did not require that the whole world do so. “Alright Keelut, but if you are wrong, if you cross me…” he didn’t say anymore. He didn’t need to. Keelut looked away. To cross Lak, no not even Keelut would do that. He knew what he wanted, and Lak’s wrath was not it. “Leave me Keelut, I must think. There is shelter and food for you and the outsiders. Go now, we will speak again.” Keelut left in silence. He was hungry.