War of the Eagles by Eric Walters Page B

tastes even better than it smells,” she responded, taking a seat across from him.
    â€œCoffee, sir?” I asked.
    â€œPlease, Jed,” he said motioning to me to sit. “I think I can help myself.” He got up from his seat and walked to the kitchen where my Mom kept the big coffee urn.
    He had no sooner left when the door to the mess hall opened. George Star peeked his head in the door. It had been a couple of years since I’d seen him and he was a lot older than I remembered.
    â€œNaomi! Jed! What a surprise to see you two here,” he said as he came into the room. He moved slowly with a limp.
    â€œGood to see you, George. Major Brown told us you were coming,” my mother said. “I’m the cook around here and Jed helps out and does a little hunting.”
    â€œThe major … that’s the fella I’m looking for.”
    â€œHe’s in the kitchen, getting himself a coffee. Want one?”
    â€œSure, that would be nice.”
    â€œWhat you want in it?” she asked.
    â€œBlack, lots of sugar.”
    â€œHey, Major!” my mother yelled. “Can you bring another coffee … black … plenty of sugar!” She turned to George. “How’s the family?”
    â€œCan’t complain. Oldest grandson hurt his leg some working over in the cannery, but most are doing good. And how’s your family?”
    â€œWe’re all well. Mom is doing well, busy like always.”
    â€œYou make sure you say hello to her for me. Wise woman. I hope you listen to her stories, Jed. You’ll learn a lot about our people, a lot about yourself,” he said.
    I liked listening to my Naani’s stories, but I didn’t understand how he figured I could learn anything about myself from them.
    â€œThere’s some chill in the air this morning. When November starts this way it’s going to be a cold winter ahead,” George said.
    â€œThat’s just what Naani was saying,” I added.
    Major Brown came back into the room carrying two coffees. I caught the look of surprise and then saw his face transform. His smile vanished and he put on his “Major” face. His steps became shorter and sharper and he straightened his back.
    â€œThanks, Major Brown,” my mother said. “That second coffee’s for George here. You two haven’t met, have you?”
    â€œNo, we haven’t,” Major Brown replied, extending his hand to shake.
    George rose slightly from his chair and shook hands.
    â€œGood to meet you, Major. I’m George Star. Thanks for the coffee,” he said as he raised the mug to his mouth.
    â€œDo you think there might be some space alongside that coffee for a slice of pie?” my mother asked.
    â€œI think there might.”
    My mother rose from her seat. I got up as well. I went to the corner to start getting things ready for the supper rush.
    â€œThe commander left. You are almost an hour late,”
    Major Brown stated formally.
    George shrugged his shoulders.
    Mom returned with two pieces of pie. She put a gen–erous slice in front of George and a smaller, second one by the major. Both thanked her and she disappeared back into the kitchen.
    â€œBad scene in Rupert last night,” George commented.
    â€œDefinitely. A number of my men, as well as a number of others, including some Tsimshian, were hurt. I think we have to do something before somebody gets more seriously hurt or even killed,” Major Brown said.
    â€œMakes sense. Do you have any ideas?”
    â€œI would like you to talk to the Indians about not drinking. It is against the law.”
    â€œIf you don’t want ‘em to drink any, you shouldn’t sell ‘em any.”
    â€œI cannot control all of the bars and hotels and moonshiners in Prince Rupert, Mr. Star,” the major answered curtly.
    George took another long sip from his coffee. “I was just hoping you could control your men. The biggest