Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
by
Alexandre Trudeau
Bare tree trunks are black against white snow. A faint amber
glow moves through the forest. It is a smouldering torch
carried by a huddled form. A WOMAN advances on snowshoes. She
is panting faintly. Each steps whooshes as it settles into
heavy snow.
WOMAN
(softly)
Wabooz. Niineta. Gishiime.
(Hare. It’s me. Little sister.)
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nikedam gaazo. Daga ondaashaan.
Ninaadamawaa. Niinaadamawaa.
(I know you’re hiding. But please
come out. I need your help. We
really need your help.)
BOY (O.S.)
(crying)
Nimaama! Nimaama!
(Mummy! Mummy!)
The woman arrives in the clearing around the wigwam and calls
out to the boy inside-
WOMAN
Gego babaamenim, Kitchi. Nimaama
niwe.
(It’s alright, Kitchi. Mummy’s
back.)
BOY(O.S.)
(wimpering)
Aandi giin?
(Where were you?)
WOMAN
Nimaama gawessa nibaa.
Ninaadagoodoo.
(Couldn’t sleep. Was out checking
the traps.
BOY (O.S.)
Nimbakade, nimaama.
(I’m hungry, mummy.)
WOMAN
Nikedam. Geniin, Kitchi.
Nimaadizekwe.
(I know. Me too, Kitchi. Try and
sleep. There will be something for
breakfast.)
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nadaaw imbaaba babiinzikawaagan.
(Get your father’s coat.)
Seated beside the fire, she has the man’s tunic in her hands.
With a clam shell, she’s slicing through the seams of the fur
collar to remove it from the moosehide.
WOMAN
Noos ma’iingan, miikawaadad
waabishkadowe apigwayawegwaajigan,
daga naabem giiyosewinini ondaas?
(Papa Wolf, who helped me make this
collar so beautiful, can you please
tell the husband who caught you to
come back?)
She touches her own hair. It’s dry and brittle. Frowning, she
clutches a bunch of it and shears through it with the shell,
casting it into a basket with disgust.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ma’iingan, dibaajimotaw niinizisan
aakomaagwad zaka'amaw? En’ ma’iigan
giwaabishkadowe. Dibaajimotawiin
Ahanu!
(Wolf, can you tell him that my
long hair will now be bitter smoke
as it feeds the fire? Oh yes wolf,
your beautiful fur too. You tell
Ahanu!)
With the shell, she scrapes the thick fur from the collar and
puts into the basket. Then over her shoulder, the boy coughs
with difficulty.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
(doing her best to smile)
Kitchi, wiiba naboob ashwii.
(Kitchi, food is almost ready.)
She finds her shell blade again, picks it up and touches its
dull edge with displeasure.
Using both hands, she holds the shell’s curved edge against a
smooth rock by the fire and patiently grinds it to a sharp
blade, spitting on it for lubrication.
She folds the strip of hide along its edge. Inserting the
sharpened shell into the fold, she slices off a long piece of
leather. Then folds the ribbon of hide and cuts off small
pieces, tossing them into a birchbark pot of boiling liquid
by the fire.
Sitting still for a moment, she can hear the wind outside.
She looks at a crack in the bark roof above and grabs some
loose fur to stuff into the gaps, then settles back down.
CUT TO:
The light is dim. She lies between her child and the dying
fire. She rises slightly to push the tip of a biggish log
into the embers with a foot.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Wabooz! Gimikanniin!
(Hare! You found me!)
As if with new energy, she grabs once more her tattered cloak
from the litter, drapes it over her shoulders, then picks up
a smouldering log from the fire, stuffs a big handful of
loose fur into her tunic and crouches to whisper to her boy
before heading out.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Kitchi, wabooz niitagwen. Gaween
gabaya'ii.
(Kitchi, just fetching the hare
from the snare. I won’t be long.)
BOY
(weakly)
Mino nimaama.
(Okay mama.)
5.
Her fire stick planted in the snow beside her, she finishes
lashing up her second snowshoe. She picks up her torch,
locates the plaintive cries again and heads towards them.
WOMAN
(almost singing)
Wabooz, gishiime izhaa.
(Hare, your sister’s coming.)
CUT TO:
CUT TO:
She slows as she nears her snare. All is quiet. A light snow
has begun to fall. She grabs a handful of loose fur from her
tunic and sprinkles it onto the smouldering log. She holds
the log far from her head as it billows out a pungent and
disagreeable smoke, then flares up.
CUT TO:
She begins moving towards him angrily, then stops. The man
has his back to her. He’s in a low squat and seems to be
rummaging, eating maybe.
WOMAN
(first as a stunned
whisper)
Ninaabem?
(Husband?)
(then louder)
Ninaabem?
(Husband?)
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ahanu? Ninaabem?
(Ahanu? Husband?)
WOMAN (CONT’D)
(now plaintive and
concerned)
Ahanu?
She grabs some fur to flare her torch. In the brighter light,
she gets a good look at him. He’s all bent over and dirty.
His face and hands are covered in dirt and blood. She’s
suddenly terrified.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
(in horror and sadness)
Ahanuuu.
CUT TO:
7.
She bursts out of the woods and scrambles towards the wigwam.
For a moment, she races about in a panic, almost stumbling on
her snowshoes, then steadies herself. She plants her torch in
the ground, then using all her strength, she pulls an old
tanning rack from the ground and plants it into the wigwam’s
slotted entrance, blocking it.
She turns back to the forest to see him erupt into the
clearing. She quickly grabs her smouldering torch as it
approaches.
WOMAN
Niin Opichi. Niin giwiiw, Ahanu!
(It’s Opichi, it’s your wife,
Ahanu!)
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ahanu! Gaween!
(Ahanu! No!)
Just then her torch begins billowing acrid smoke and flares
up. It recoils in horror at the smell of the burnt fur.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nimaanendam, nabem!
(I’m so sorry, husband!)
She winds up and clubs him with all her might. Again and
again, she strikes, screaming all along.
BOY (O.S.)
Nimaama?
(Mummy?)
Pure anguish at the sound of her child, then shock and horror
as the monster begins to move again.
8.
Roaring like a demon, the fiend looms over the small boy who
cowers to the far side of the wigwam near a man’s summer
satchel and new mittens. The boy is holding a man’s pipe up
over his head as if to placate the monster.
BOY
Gaween, imbaabaa! Gaween!
(No daddy! No!)
The fiend pauses for a moment at the sight and sound of the
boy, then bellows long and low.
She suddenly leaps onto the beast’s back. But it grabs a hold
of her and with a quick twist and a shake, it sends her
flying. She lands near the fire, rolls across the ground and
knocks the basket of fur over into the embers.
9.
WOMAN
(in pain and fear)
Kitchi, gii’! Gii’!
(Kitchi, run! Run!)
But the fiend then turns towards her. In pain, she tries to
pull herself away. But it lumbers up to her and grabs a hold
of her leg, bringing it to its mouth to eat.
WOMAN (CONT’D)
Gaween!
(No!)
She kicks frantically at its face with her other leg. But to
no avail, it merely swats her foot away, then sinks it teeth
into her calf. She screams.
Suddenly she notices the pile of loose fur by the fire. With
her bare hands, she quickly rakes some embers onto it then
casts the smouldering pile onto the fiend’s head.
But she meets it with a pot of boiling stew in the face. The
fiend seems blinded.
The wigwam is now on fire both inside and out. Still wailing,
the creature inside charges against the sides of the wigwam,
jolting the whole structure.
10.
CUT TO:
BOY
(in extreme anguish)
Imbaabaaaa!
(Daddy!)
BOY (CONT’D)
Nimaama, genishiwiin!
(Mama, you killed him!)
WOMAN
(ferociously)
Gaween! Imbaaba nibo! A’aw Windigo!
(No! Your father’s gone! That was
the Windigo!)