Evening, shack

In shack, before boarding return bus:

-this mouth breather shows up, wants to sign me off on dozer. I am like fuck off, I am trying to fix it.

Gerry, Trey junior, apparently, decided to be useful and annoyed mechanics.

- we walked shovel from Aurora to here, 18 hours, we stop , spray and repeat.

Ken, who has a long French last name – "you don’t want my sisters. French. Very hairy."

5-00 pm, late, we take off for Rundle. Don't take Ridge, take Atlas, two feet of mud on Ridge. Half an hour to aerodrome bus departure, we stuck near Apollo road, mud as high as bus stairs. Call six fifty, they tell us – politely – to fuck off. Guess it's steak tonight. Livid discussion who are we going to eat first.

- JD, brown meat back on the menu

- Better have flaha ready

Dick facetimes with wife - we decided to eat the brown guy

- Andre Lavoie? Nick is Lemon Ray

- There is actual law in Alberta about cannibalism in wild situations

- There is law in Medicine Hat if they throw you it of town they have to provide you with a horse and saddle

Dick screams at the back of the bus, into open window, smoking- I want to go home, FUCK YOU, MINE!!

- Farmer John is coming

- I am glad he’s trying

John is using forks on loader, when he gets stuck himself, then pulls us out.

Aerodrome

I feel something is ending, was worried. On morning run, horn on Mack got stuck, we drove on Ridge, everyone was looking at us. Now can’t find my phone.

Carl: wouldn’t your wife be worried that you gone incognito

- she never calls me

Everyone laughs. Carl mumbles to himself - sounds exactly like my ex.

Average three divorces.

In a moment of agitation I speak and Ken is surprised as if I changed. There I feel it, there that is it, I’m with my boys.

Crew catches eleven and I am all alone in Rundle waiting area. Song plays in my head.

"You give your hand to me, and then you say hello,

And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so"

Coffee machine broke, Leedco mech tells me this cup stud is broken. I respond –not surprised, everything is broken at Fort Firewood. We laugh heartlly – perhaps, its fly day or shared knowledge how fucked up everything is and yet it works. I sit at Rundle waiting for aerodrome shuttle. I will arrive home by 11 pm, kiss my sleeping kids.

A row of younger men sit on benches in front of me, jeans,boots,tattoos, mustaches, CAT caps – two play by sending sun flashes. I used to be wary of this kind, now I see - breakups, aging ten years faster, and 20 more years of this, for few lucky ones.

- We’re going to aerodrome, if you pay extra, we’ll go to Vegas, this guy is paying (driver points to front seat)

In airport pit, I approach a group of big, burly men, every embodiment of Canadian working class. Last smoke Jun gave me broke in half.

- Anyone can spot me, I show them two halves.

Sure – all. I take Fox’s, he offers lighter too. John, smug D10 guy, Fox, Gerry, John the 6013 hoe, couple of faces I don’t know. "Buddy, you’re a wreck, did Luke run you all day." All laugh. I look at myself later in airport washroom. I am as beat-up and dirty as everyone.

- Boarding, group 2. See you on the other side, guys fist bump each other, until next shift.

This week in Calgary, we have reached our three year milestone and we’ll apply for Canadian citizenship.

When I come back in seven days, mysterious Mr. Lavoie may or may come down see me. With safety biased against me, odds are not spectacular but I’ll take my chances to become haul truck driver. If I fail, I am out in the wind again.

I am gonna see if there’s any spark left between me and my wife, or was there any to begin with. Ten years.

I walk on the field towards WestJet flight to Calgary. I salute to biker looking field attendant with large headphones, he salutes back.

- Copy, 8024

- Mike

- your reverse signal is on

- No, I am parked, see four ways, oh sorry

- Ten-four

The End

Fort Fireweed, August 2025.