Ashleigh and Samantha
Somehow we made it back to the bike path. I had no idea where we were going; I had never been so lost in my life. How could we be fifteen minutes from home, and be so totally lost? I just prayed that Ash knew where we were. No way was I calling my dad to come get me, even if I did find a working pay phone.
After a few minutes’ walk, trying to keep Ash upright and moving, we came to the park behind Parliament Hill. Ash giggled as she gave the one finger salute to the House of Commons. I had to admit, they deserved it.
“Fat, middle-aged, white, rich guys. Deciding what’s best for my people. Bastiches!” Ash wasn’t in a happy mood anymore. I wondered what the government had done to her.
I mean, I knew about the blankets infected with smallpox in the seventeen hundreds, and the residential schools they were forced into in the fifties. But Ash was my age, what had they done to her?
We walked a little farther, until she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the cliff under the Canadian Mint’s backside. Then she started laughing. At nothing. Laughing so hard she choked and turned red in the face.
I was pounding h...