Starfish (4 page)

T
HE
C
OLD
• A
NTLERS
• A M
YSTERIOUS
V
ISITOR

THEY RODE
the rest of the afternoon, Corn Poe rambling on about everything under the sun and then some. Lionel had never heard anyone who could talk so much, and he soon found himself drifting in and out of sleep as he rocked across the open prairie, riding on the great horse between Corn Poe and Beatrice.

It was the warmest Lionel had been since he had woken the other morning listening to the drip of the melting icicle. Ice didn't seem to be melting now; if anything, Lionel thought that the air had grown colder. Corn Poe must have agreed because he now rode along in silence, slumped forward and buried in Ulysses's mane. Corn Poe could have been dead for all Lionel knew.

Lionel looked down at the snow that passed beneath them and at Corn Poe's leg dangling from the frayed cuff of the small boy's patched work pants. Lionel thought his exposed skin looked almost blue. Blue, like the Frozen Man.

Thinking about the Frozen Man sent a shudder down Lionel's spine. He ran his fingers across the bear claws in his pocket and thought that if he and Beatrice and Corn Poe didn't get wherever they were going soon, they would all be dead, dead like the Frozen Man.

“You cold?” Beatrice asked over the steady cadence of Ulysses's heavy breathing.

“No, I'm okay,” Lionel lied.

“How much farther?” Corn Poe moaned.

Good, Lionel thought. Corn Poe isn't dead. Lionel didn't want to see any more dead people.

Lionel scanned the horizon and the rolling hills that rose and fell in the distance with greater frequency. He remembered the pictures of the ships that the captain back at the school had shown him, and thought that the hills looked like the barreling waves of water that the tall ships sailed across. The three of them and Ulysses were like a ship rolling along on a sea of endless snow. Up and down, down and up…

“I don't mean to complain, but I don't feel my legs no more,” Corn Poe announced.

They had reached the Milk River hours ago. Then, they had continued toward the setting sun. Excluding the occasional clump of cottonwood, they hadn't seen anything but snow in a long time. Lionel thought that it was as if the entire world had stopped, and it was just Lionel, his sister, and the horse…and now, Corn Poe.

“Maybe we should walk awhile. Give Ulysses a rest.” Beatrice pulled the horse to a stop and slid gracefully from his back. Corn Poe did the same, but his legs gave out and he fell with a plop into a deep snowdrift.

“Boy howdy, this is some of the coldest snow I ever laid eyes on!” Corn Poe proclaimed as he struggled to his feet. He stood there a minute shivering, trying to get the feeling back in his legs.

Lionel slid down and once again scanned the horizon. The past two days raced through his mind, and as he looked around at the snow-covered desolation, he felt again as if he wanted to cry.

“We best keep movin',” Beatrice said.

“How are you plannin' on leadin' that horse without no rope?” Corn Poe asked as he made his way out of the snowdrift.

“He'll follow.” And with that, Beatrice continued. As she walked, Ulysses followed. Horses loved Beatrice and Beatrice loved horses, that much Lionel knew—and now so did Corn Poe.

They walked on, but this proved to be harder than they thought. Ulysses's long legs stepped in and out of the snow with ease compared to the children's shorter legs. They were soon warmer from the movement, but exhausted.

“Damn, I'm hungry,” Corn Poe exclaimed between gasps. He began to look worried and, like Lionel, could have very well been on the verge of tears.

The three struggled up a high riverbank, with Ulysses fighting his way through the snow behind them. when they got to the top of the rise, Lionel thought he saw something moving toward them from the direction of the river. He strained his eyes and saw it again, this time briefly standing on top of the next bluff. It seemed to Lionel that it was a deer with very large antlers looking at them, almost spying on them. Lionel would catch a glimpse, but then it would disappear only to reappear a few feet from where it last appeared, depending on the direction the children moved. Lionel turned and saw that Beatrice had also seen the strange deer in the distance.

Corn Poe continued, oblivious to the foreign presence, “Y'all remember when I said I needed to stretch my legs? well, I reckon they are permanently stretched after this one….”

Beatrice raised a finger to her lips, and Corn Poe's eyes went wide.

“What? what is it?” Corn Poe whispered. Lionel couldn't tell if he was shaking from the cold or trembling with fear.

“Lionel, listen to me. You two stay here. Stand next to Ulysses, all right? Just stand there behind him and don't move.” And then Beatrice was gone.

Beatrice was fast, and if it weren't for the tracks that she left in the snow behind her, Corn Poe and Lionel might have thought that she just vanished. with his gaze, Lionel traced his sister's tracks as they disappeared down the other side of the gully toward the river. He wanted to follow but knew that Beatrice would not stand for that. Something in the way that she had told Corn Poe and Lionel to stay put kept them right where they were.

“What is it?” Corn Poe asked. His lips were now as blue as his legs.

“We saw something. Something over the hill.”

“What in the hell was it? I didn't see nothin'.”

“It looked like a deer to me, but we best keep from talkin',” Lionel answered.

“A deer?” Corn Poe exclaimed, louder than Lionel thought he meant to. “You think we might get us some supper after all?”

Corn Poe's comment about supper hit Lionel like a punch in his empty stomach. He glanced up to the ridge, and there it was again not thirty paces away from them—the antlers, at least. This time the antlers did not disappear but seemed to grow. They were getting closer.

Now Corn Poe saw the antlers. Lionel raised his finger to his lips, but with little result.

“What is that?” Corn Poe said, forgetting to whisper altogether. “That don't look like no deer to me!”

It no longer looked like a deer to Lionel either. As it got closer, it began to look more and more like the body of a man with a deer's head. That was about all that Corn Poe needed to see or could stand. He turned in the opposite direction of the ghostly deer-headed creature and moved as fast as he could through the deep snow.

Lionel was tempted to do the same, but given how little distance Corn Poe was gaining and the adamant instructions from Beatrice, he opted to say put. The figure raised its arms into the air, causing Corn Poe to let out a yelp that would raise the dead.

Then the creature began to speak….

“Ássa und! Póóhsapoot!”

But it spoke in a tongue that neither Corn Poe nor Lionel could understand. Lionel spun around, startling Ulysses.

Corn Poe hadn't made it ten steps when he turned back to Lionel. “Come on, ya idjit! It's gonna kill us!”

Lionel took a few steps back, frantically looking around for Beatrice. No Beatrice. He continued to backpedal as the creature moved down the slope toward them. It spoke again, and although its words sounded familiar, Lionel could not understand what it was saying. Then suddenly, it spoke English.

“Don't be afraid, little one. I'm not here to hurt you,” the creature called.

Lionel found this hard to believe. As it came closer, it became apparent that the creature was definitely some sort of man, but with the deer head it was about the size of Corn Poe's father, Big Bull.

“Cover your ears! Even the sound of its voice could curse ya for life!” Corn Poe screamed as he crawled though the snow behind Lionel. “It's an apparition, I tell ya! A ghost!”

Lionel believed him. The creature didn't have trouble in the snow like Lionel and Corn Poe; as a matter of fact, it seemed to float.

“Hey, I told ya, I ain't gonna hurt ya,” the deer head called out again. Its voice seemed old and cracked.

“How do we know you're telling the truth? Ghostly apparitions from beyond ain't known for honesty!” Corn Poe yelled, struggling through the snow.

Lionel turned. “How would you know?”

“I know! I saw the spirits when my kid sister Viola died! Run!” Corn Poe was out of breath and barely moving. He seemed to be making his situation worse, and Lionel thought he would soon bury himself alive. where was Beatrice?

The creature continued down the hill toward them. Lionel decided to make a stand. He crawled through the snowdrift back to Ulysses's side, back to where Beatrice had told him to stay. He studied the creature as it came closer and concluded that although it was strange, it wasn't a ghost. For starters, Lionel realized that it was not floating above the snow, but wore snowshoes that enabled it to skim easily across the top.

“What in the hell are you children doing way out here in weather like this, anyhow?” the deer head asked, now just ten paces away.

“That ain't no concern of yours!” Corn Poe yelled from his snow hole. He was no longer moving and lay panting in the drift.

“It's getting colder and colder, and here y'all are just out wandering?” the deer head continued. “I'd say that the storm pushed through, but another one's on the way. Helluva time for a stroll.”

Lionel moved closer and saw that the deer head was actually a hood—a hood worn by an old man. The cowl covered the sides of his face and was fashioned from hide and antlers to mimic a deer's head. Beneath the hood, his face was dark with deep creases around his eyes and mouth. Two thick braids with feathers woven into them fell onto his broad shoulders.

“Well, what's it going to be? You gonna run off like your friend over there and hide in a hole like a rabbit, or are ya gonna stand up and tell me what the hell you're doing out here? out here on my land?”

Lionel stood perfectly still.

“What—your tongue froze to the roof of your mouth?”

“No—no, sir. we're out here looking…”

“Looking for what?” the man demanded.

“Well, I—” Lionel was interrupted as Ulysses's ears shot back, and the big horse let out a long, hard whinny. The noise startled Lionel and caused the old man with the deer-antler hood to spin around—and face Beatrice.

Beatrice sat on the back of a large mule. Lionel had never been so happy to see his sister in all his life.

“Say there, just what do you think you're doing?” the man yelled, pulling a large pistol from beneath his heavy coat.

Before he knew what he was doing, Lionel lunged at the man and the gun. “That's just my sister, don't shoot!” Lionel screamed. He hit the old man as hard as he could, but the man easily held him off with his free hand, aiming the pistol at Beatrice.

“If you know what's good for ya, you'll step down from my mule!”

But Beatrice didn't get down from the mule. She chose instead to spur the animal forward and slowly ride it down the snowy slope toward Lionel, the man with the hood, and Ulysses.

“I knew this would come to no good!” Corn Poe yelled from his hole.

The man seemed puzzled and unsure how to react to Beatrice's icy defiance. Beatrice continued forward, and Lionel saw that the mule pulled a travois, and on that sled was the carcass of a small elk.

Beatrice rode right up to them and slid effortlessly from the back of the mule to Ulysses. She then handed the man the mule's reins. He watched Beatrice, a puzzled look still on his face.

“Beatrice?” the man stuttered in disbelief, then spun to face Lionel. “So…you're Lionel. I should have seen it in your eyes. I'm slippin' in my old age, I tell ya.”

Lionel looked up at Beatrice, who sat calmly on Ulysses's back. Beatrice might have been a girl, Lionel thought, but she sure looked like a warrior up there on that great horse.

“Why, this is a surprise! Beatrice, it's been a while, and you…” the man said as he roughly shook Lionel's half-frozen hand, “when I last saw you, hell if you weren't but two foot tall. I'm your grandpa.”

His grandfather's hand felt warm as it engulfed his.

“Why, judgin' from yer hand, you're half froze, boy.”

Lionel heard the word “froze” and instinctively slipped his other hand in his coat pocket, feeling the Frozen Man's bear claws.

“We better get you out of this weather,” their grandfather continued. “I tell ya, another storm's coming.”

Beatrice and Lionel's grandpa pulled his mule's reins tight and circled back to the small hill.

“We ain't too far from my place, so I think it's best we get going. we can talk there. I'll be interested to hear what y'all are doin' way out here and where you got that horse you're on there, Beatrice.”

In a few steps, their grandfather was halfway up the hill.