Leaving Deer Lake

We pack the butchered caribou
in three boxes lined with styrofoam
and tinfoil. In one we've buried the
antlers. If they find the antlers
they may charge us $250. That's the
antler fee at Deer Lake airport.
It's an airport where you have to
wait while they x-ray your checked
luggage. We watch the big antler
box full of frozen meat get x-rayed.
No trouble. I've had to find in
Corner Brook an export permit to
bring the meat. But no one at the
airport wants to look at it, so
I mail it to a friend. I like
writing letters in airports. I
carry envelopes and stamps. I usually
have a glue stick as well, in case
I need to stick something on a
postcard. I like collages in the mail.
All flights out of Deer Lake seem
to land in Halifax, that's progress
for you. And we wait, drinking coffee
from Brisket, a miserable chain of
airport restaurants if ever there was.
I'm still using my Starbucks card
that I received a year ago from
some literary festival. But airport
Starbucks won't accept the card.
We end up waiting at Pearson for
another plane to leave our Gate.
Such is the state of Air Canada
these days. And all this to say,
twelve hours after that frozen
caribou left my parents' chest freezer,
we pile its still-frozen cuts into
our Toronto chest freezer. The antlers
are intact.