Angel Kisses.

Tonight, after dinner, Bajczyk (Pronounced Bye Check) and I took a lap around the outside of the village. We walked the east shore near the lagoon first and then plodded along the ocean side, like a couple of old geezers out for some fresh air.

It was cool though. We weren’t even 30 seconds in to our adventure before we were joined by a couple of kids. A boy and a girl asked if they could go with us and after we said yes, we learned that they would both be in my classroom in 2 short days. Jennifer rode her bike through every puddle. Wearing his Dwight Howard jersey with pride, Jacob smiled a a bright smile with every word.

Along the lagoon we ran in to a few other groups of kids here and there. ByeCheck fist bumped everyone. I learned to follow suit. A boat came storming across the lagoon and we met a couple of men that were returning from checking on the water line. They reported good news. The lines are clean and pumping water to fill the tank like they’re supposed to. Both men had a gentle demeanor but a firm handshake. We continued on.

A hundred yard up the shore a couple of boys, neither older than 3, wanted to show us the decaying fish head that they were playing with. It had no eyes. They told us thirteen times. As we rounded the north end of the village, up near where the Bowhead Whale rib bones welcome visitors, Jennifer and Jacob each took a trip down the gravel hill on the bike. I think I’ll visit the hill again once the snow flies.

Shortly after that, we made it to the Chukchi Sea side, where a group of older boys paused on their Honda to catch up with their old teacher and meet the new guy. I was glad to meet the older boys because until now, it’s seemed like I’ve been followed by a pint-sized Paparazzi every time I step out of the trailer. The older dudes perked up when Wild Bill introduced me as their new Coach. That’s when things got serious. The young men offered handshakes and formal introductions. They were on their way to take a couple of pot shots at a seal they saw near the North Channel. The .22 was loaded and tucked precariously near the front fender but who am I to judge? It was good for me to finally reach a different demographic. 

From there our walkabout tribe grew tenfold.

I think the word got out. 4^th & 5^th graders came out of the woodwork. As we exchanged pleasantries our pace slowed exponentially. Names that I had plastered on desks and in to seating charts over the last few days, now belonged to faces. Questions flew just as fast as I could deflect them. I wanted to keep a little air of mystery about my info for Wednesday. If I answered everything they were asking, I’d have to re-plan my whole first two days.

I did have to reply openly when one little girl asked, “Do you have a Honey?” (That’s village talk for Woman, Wife, are ya hitched? Spoken for?) I showed her my ring and told her she was too young. She didn’t get my humor and asked again at which point I cut my losses and told her, “Yes.”

Where are you from?

Where is MooseJaw, Saskatchewan?

Do you know my brother?

What’s your Dad’s name?

Have you ever shot a moose? (I’m wearing my MooseJaw shirt. They must love it.)

How old are you?

Is Bajczyk your Dad?

I tried to deflect or even ignore. I did tell them that I’d answer more questions on Wednesday. I told them I wanted to know more about them but that we’d have to wait and take it slow.

And then some girl asked about my spots…, “Why do you have spots?”

I asked if her she had any idea what they were.

“They look like chicken pox. Where did all of those spots on your arms come from?” – was her response.

I guess I hadn’t thought about my freckles at all since I walked off the plane. I mean, there’s been a lot to think about really. And since I’m getting older and being a freckle-faced red-head is just who I am – it doesn’t define me – I’d kind of forgot about my freckles.

“Angel kisses. My grandma says that they’re Angel Kisses.”

After a pause and a look around to the crowd of her peers listening intently, she was good with that.

And we finished our walk.