Baby


I had a dream a few days ago:


I found myself as a teenager, surrounded by some very wealthy individuals who lived far from my community. They took a few of us youth in, offering support so we could pursue our education. They provided us with a home where about eight of us could stay and even had a luxurious limousine to drop us off at school.


One day, these privileged folks invited us to join them for breakfast at a grand banquet hall. I was filled with excitement as we arrived; the room was bright, adorned with stunning crystal chandeliers and elegant burgundy velvet chairs. Tables filled with a lavish buffet lay in the center, yet the room was oddly empty despite the buzz of people across the hall at a work convention, chatting, drinking, and smoking.


As I gazed at the food, I headed toward the tables. I reached for a plate next to a beautiful Black girl who was also being supported by these wealthy benefactors. When I reached over, she thought I was trying to take her plate, and understandably, she got upset and told me to grab any other plate.


In that moment, I felt a bit awkward and clumsy, realizing how ridiculous it must have looked. I just wanted a plate close to someone I recognized. I assured her I wasn’t trying to take her food, just the plate next to hers, which was stuck to hers somehow. I ended up giving her a lengthy explanation because I really wanted her to understand.


Through the crowd, I spotted my Uncle Max in the next room. I felt a wave of excitement and made my way to my aunt, who greeted me warmly. Strangely, she didn’t look like my aunt; she appeared white, and even my cousin looked unfamiliar. I asked where Uncle Max was, and though I could see him far away among the people, I couldn’t quite remember what he was doing—perhaps negotiating a fish sale.


My aunt continued to speak, telling me that Uncle Max wanted me to return a baby to the water. I thought this would be simple enough. I made my way through the crowd to find him, and when I did, he greeted me with joy. I assured him that returning the baby would be no issue.


Then, he handed me a small baby whale, about thirty pounds. Leaving the breakfast behind without eating, I set off.


When I stepped outside, it was dark, and I found myself in Prince Rupert. I drove along the waterfront and spotted a cozy area where the water met a small inlet. Ropes marked the entrance, so I ventured down to see if it would be a suitable place to return the whale.


There were children playing in the water, which seemed promising. I approached their mother, who happened to be white, and informed her of my intent. She immediately objected, insisting I couldn’t return the whale to the water. I felt a surge of frustration and responded firmly, “I can do whatever I want. I am First Nations, and it’s racist to say otherwise. I will put the whale back in the water.”


Determined, I walked away, realizing that this wasn’t the best spot for the baby whale. There didn’t seem to be any food nearby for it to eat.


Continuing along the river, I decided to head toward the canneries, perhaps to Port Edward or another nearby location. I found a wharf where I could walk down to the water, and it looked promising with signs of life.


I returned to my car, carried the baby whale back down to the water, and gently placed it in. The water was just as I remembered—not too shallow. I wanted to find some food to throw in for the whale, but what I brought was somewhat disappointing; it was partially cooked from the restaurant’s preparations for the banquet.


When I returned and tossed the food into the water, I was taken aback by the sight of fresh sockeye fillets floating on the surface, filling the water wall to wall. Fish were leaping up, feasting on the offerings.


Though I worried about the baby whale being in the water with larger fish, I reassured myself that it was only natural for it to be there. I could see it eating, but I also feared for its safety given its small size.


As I stood by the water, I noticed people all around throwing heaps of fillets into the water, each contributing to the life below. I was amazed by the abundance of offerings made to the aquatic creatures.


Then, as I leaned closer, a small halibut lunged at me, snapping its sharp teeth in excitement. It seemed to react to my presence, so I respectfully stepped back, observing the fish leap among the filleted remnants.


After a moment of concern for the baby whale, I decided that nature would take its course, and everything would be alright.

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