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Chapter 20

As we approached the large two-storied brick building occupying an entire block on a street now called Main Avenue, a man exited the store and came to a complete halt, almost blocking our way on the boardwalk. He was a stranger, a thin man with stooped shoulders dressed entirely in black. He reminded me of a Black Crow, a name the Canadian Cree gave Jesuit friars who came among them.

As we grew nearer, he lifted his head, and the impression of a carrion bird was heightened. Small round eyes gleamed as if from an inner light. His nose was so long and hooked, it almost drooped over his bloodless lips. I had thought him old, but as we approached, it was evident he was a man of no more than thirty snows. He had little color to his skin and none to his attire save black.

“Sinful!” he spat in a stentorian voice that took me by surprise. Thunder like that should have come from a big man. “Cover your flesh, young man! Do not flout your nakedness before Christian folk.”