I guess you could call them the Littlest Mojo because they were on the road again. It was too late Zigs had slipped out in the momentary confusion in order to avoid being recognized. Out of the darkness of silence, a frail almost speckled voice eked out, “Where have you been all my life?” It was if someone had pulled a Pendleton blanket over the doorway to a bedroom. The group let out a collective gasp and then the room fell darkly silent. Geyaabi na gegoo? Hrrrmm…” (Ok! My name is Love. Let’s get started, eh?”Īfter a few rounds of pitiful introductions and the excitement of when a mouse ran right through the centre of their circle, it was finally time for Zigs to fess up. Washing down the crumbs with dank coffee, Zigs heard the meeting called to order: Their right hand clutched the Styrofoam cup while the left brought a sweaty hand up to their mouth to deposit what was left of a day old sugar cookie. Zigs (as they were affectionately known) circled the church basement anxiously waiting for the meeting to start. Zigidiwin Ndizhnikaaz ( My Name is Love ) Zhaabdiis loves Jibwens, but Jibwens does not love Zhaabdiis. “1990 Midnight Madness Relay Team Dabbing Champs” “1985 Treaty 3 Spotlight Special Dabbing Champs” “1982 Woman’s All Around Dabbing Champion” “1979 Northwestern Ontario Singles Dabbing Champion” I bet they’re all cha real good at giving hand jobs too. Her living room is full of framed photos and newspapers clippings of women in her family who have won all sorts of prestigious dabbing championships throughout the years. Jibwens comes from a long line of bingo dabbing champions. Fierce bingo dabbing is good conditioning for hand jobs it would seem. This might be because she had just spent the night with her hand in the same position around a bingo dabber: up and down, up and down through a flurry of numbers, false “BINNNGOOOOO!!!!!” alarms and break-opens.

That very night, Jibwens won the Bonanza and she came home and gave Zhaabdiis a hand job with so much fury and precision. After his hands and knees could no longer take it, he resigned to gluing a leaf onto a three-leaf clover just so Jibwens would have something lucky to take with her to bingo. One time he spent three hours outside on the lawn in front of the band office looking for a four-leaf clover to give to Jibwens. Zhaabdiis loves Jibwens so therefore Zhaabdiis loves bingo. It’s just the way the rows upon rows of bingo sheets smell the second they’ve been ripped from the top of the pile by some sausage-fingered volunteer who is probably going to go home and finger his girlfriend before he even washes those filthy hands. Zhaabdis loves Jibwens but Jibwens does not love Zhaabdiis. Geraldine King – Fiction Zhaabdis Minwaa Jibwens ( Zhaabdiis and Jibwens )

Bingo dabber letter l