Their small supple forms slipped busily through water at dusk, continually perfecting their burrows, and eating (how they loved to eat) practically anything growing or moving in a slough. Muskrats were everywhere on the slough-dotted reservation.

Thomas was named for the muskrat, wazhashk, the lowly, hardworking, water-loving rodent. His desk pooled with light from the defective lamp that he had rescued and repaired for himself, so that he could read, write, cogitate, and from time to time slap himself awake. He checked the offices, the green-and-white-tiled bathrooms, and ended up back at the machine shop. Refreshed, he stepped through the reinforced doors of the acid washing room, with its rows of numbered beakers, pressure dial, hose, sink, and washing stations. At one point, to keep his blood flowing, he did a short fancy dance, then threw in a Red River jig. He made his inspections with a rigid thoroughness.Īs he moved along, he checked the drilling room, tested every lock, flipped the lights on and off. He got the job because he was reliable and he knocked himself out to do all that he did as perfectly as he could do it. He was smart and honest, but he wasn't young and skinny anymore. Thomas thought it was their sharp eyes-the women of his tribe could spear you with a glance. The government attributed their focus to Indian blood and training in Indian beadwork. They had scored much higher on tests for manual dexterity. This was the first time there had ever been manufacturing jobs near the reservation, and women filled most of these coveted positions. The jewel bearings would be used in Defense Department ordnance and in Bulova watches. The women pasted micro-thin slices of ruby, sapphire, or the lesser jewel, garnet, onto thin upright spindles in preparation for drilling. In this quiet, always quiet expanse, Turtle Mountain women spent their days leaning into the hard light of their task lamps. He picked up the key ring, a company flashlight, and walked the perimeter of the main floor. He caught the apple and put it out on the desktop to admire.

When he took off his padded tractor hat, a crab apple fell from the earflap.

His work jacket went on the chair, his lunch box on the cold windowsill. Thomas Wazhashk removed his thermos from his armpit and set it on the steel desk alongside his scuffed briefcase.

The watchman louise erdrich