Starfish (5 page)

“And you best fetch your rabbit friend over there. He might be interested to see how us ghosts are livin' in this here modern age.”

A B
ELLY
F
ULL
• R
ECOUNTING THE
E
SCAPE
• B
UFFALO
R
OBE
• N
API THE
O
LD
M
AN
• L
IONEL'S
D
REAM

THE FIRE
in Grandpa's cabin on the Milk River danced around the cast-iron cauldron that hung in the stone fireplace.

“There's more stew in there, boy,” Grandpa reminded Lionel as he threw a small piece of birch wood onto the fire.

A strong north wind whipped at the tiny cabin, a last-ditch effort to extend winter just one storm longer. Lionel was tired, and his stomach had never been this full.

Corn Poe slept next to Lionel, and from the sound of his snoring, slept soundly. The small boy hadn't moved since he had finished his third helping of stew and collapsed in front of the fire, rubbing his thin, pale legs. Now Lionel lay wrapped in a thick buffalo robe, listening to Corn Poe's heavy, labored breathing and Beatrice's retelling of their escape from the boarding school and the soldiers' outpost. It had all happened so fast.

As Beatrice told of the Frozen Man and how the soldiers had laughed and stolen from him, Grandpa's face looked first sad and then angry. But he didn't say anything. Not a word.

Beatrice went on about the priest, and that all she wanted to do was to pray like her mother used to. Beatrice told Grandpa that she wanted to learn these prayers, not the prayers that the government made for them. Then Beatrice told Grandpa about Sergeant Haskell Jenkins and Private Samuel Lumpkin and how they held her under the freezing water and tried to cut her hair with the sheep shears.

Lionel stared at the fire, but all he could see was Jenkins's snarling smirk and the darker-than-midnight black leather of his coarse eye patch.

Beatrice told Grandpa how she drove the sheep shears through Jenkins's hand and that she was worried because she did not feel bad about it…not in the least. She told him that Jenkins deserved it and she would do it again, or worse, if given the opportunity. Then Beatrice told Grandpa about Lionel, and Ulysses the great horse.

Grandpa leaned over and smoothed Lionel's hair with his big hand. Lionel felt happy wrapped in the buffalo robe, lying before the fire with a belly full of food, listening to his sister. But Lionel also had a feeling that everything had suddenly changed.

Grandpa sat back in his rocking chair by the fire to pack and light his pipe.

“Well, the government can't be too happy. I wonder how long it will take them to figure out that you'd come and try to find me,” Grandpa said after a while. “The snow helps, but they're coming.”

Grandpa took a long draw on his pipe. He released a swirl of smoke that hung in the rafters. “They are definitely coming.”

“I'm sorry, but let 'em come,” Beatrice said almost without emotion. “They can't catch me. I'm never going back.”

Grandpa took another draw; Lionel and Beatrice listened to the low crackling burn of its embers. Rings of smoke followed and drifted about the room amid the fire's dancing light.

Lionel shifted and felt the bear claws dig into his side. He was ashamed to show them to anyone, but wondered if his grandfather could tell him if the Frozen Man might need the claws wherever it was he had gone.

Lionel broke the silence. “Grandpa?”

“Yes, Lionel?”

“Where did the Frozen Man go?”

“Where did he go?” their grandfather asked, leaning farther back in his rocker.

“Yes, I don't understand. At the school they said that—”

“Ah well, at school,” Grandpa interrupted, “people say a lot of things; and me, I wouldn't even know where to start.”

“At the beginning,” Lionel answered.

“Listen to him, will you?” Their grandfather laughed, exhaling a large cloud from his pipe. “It's a long story, but maybe you're right. To get to the end, it just might be better to start at the beginning.”

Lionel lost his grandfather's face for a moment in the smoke.

“But this was a long time ago. Back in the days of Napi, Napi the old Man.”

“Napi?” Beatrice asked, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

Their grandfather hesitated. “It's late. You two should sleep and let me think about what has happened.”

Beatrice watched their grandfather with a solemn expression on her face. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Okay, okay, but just for a bit, now. You two need to join your friend there and get some sleep.”

The children lay back in front of the fire.

“From the start. way back, eh? Let's see,” their grandfather began, “when I was a boy, the old ones used to say that there was a time when everything, this whole world, was covered with water. This was before the time of this land.”

Lionel stared into the dancing firelight, trying to imagine what it would be like to ride a horse under that much water.

“Waves rose and fell, crashed and churned, but nothing…only water.” Their grandfather sat forward with a creak of his rocker. “Well, almost nothing.

“Way out, in the midst of this vast sea, there was a raft and there was an old Man on the raft—well, a Spirit, really, a powerful Spirit. The Spirit's name was Napi, and he spent his days picking up various animals that had been left to fend for themselves across the great floods.

“One day Napi saw that he had collected many animals and that the raft was crowded. He thought that he must find a place where they could all live, so he told the Beaver to swim down to the bottom and bring him some mud. Napi thought that he could use the mud to make some land. So, the Beaver dove into the swirling waters.

“The Beaver was down a long time but then burst to the surface, gasping for breath. ‘No matter how deep…no matter how hard I swam…I could not reach the bottom,' he panted.

“The old Man then sent the Loon, then the otter, but the water was still too deep. Napi asked all of the animals, ‘Do any of you think that you can reach the bottom?' All the animals were silent, all except for a small Muskrat.”

Lionel looked over at Corn Poe with heavy-lidded eyes.

“‘I will dive to the bottom and bring back the mud to you,' the Muskrat announced.

“‘You?' asked the Beaver. The Muskrat answered by diving off the raft and into the deep water.

“The Muskrat was also gone for a long time. The old Man figured he must'a drowned, but just when the old Man had given up all hope, the Muskrat appeared, floating, just about dead, on the horizon. The old Man pulled the tiny Muskrat onto the raft and saw that there was mud between his claws. The Muskrat had made it to the bottom.

“Napi dried the mud from the Muskrat's paw and spread it across the surface of the water, and there, land was formed. So, old Man and the animals said goodbye to the raft and traveled across the land, the old Man creating things as he saw fit. He told the rivers where to run and the trees, bushes, and flowers where they should grow. He carried with him a pocketful of boulders and stones so that he could build the mountains. He told the grass to grow on the plains, and the berries and roots to grow by the rivers.”

Lionel felt his eyes closing. His grandfather's voice sounded more distant.

“When the old Man was done, he gathered the animals and told them, ‘Go live on this land. Drink from these rivers and eat this grass, these berries and roots.'

“The animals thanked the old Man and did as he asked them to do. Some of the animals went to the rolling prairie and some to the mountains…”

Lionel fell asleep dreaming that he stood on the edge of the plains, a great woods at his back. The prairie now churned in a sea of swirling grass before him. He looked from the woods to a small raft as it crested a distant wave out on the rolling hills. Corn Poe, Beatrice, and his grandfather were on the raft, drifting farther and farther away from Lionel; drifting and soon disappearing to somewhere on the far side of the horizon.

E
ARLY
M
ORNING
• B
EATRICE'S
F
EATHER
• S
UPPLIES
• C
ORN
P
OE'S
D
EPARTURE
• L
ISTEN

LIONEL WOKE
to the sound of Corn Poe's voice. “Hell, I may have to grow my hair out,” Corn Poe said. “Then you could wrap mine just like that.”

Lionel lifted the heavy buffalo robe and sat up. His body was stiff, but he felt rested and somehow, once again hungry. He turned to see Beatrice sitting on the corner of the fireplace and Grandpa still in his rocker by her side.

Beatrice looked different. She looked more like Grandpa than she had when Lionel had fallen asleep. Strips of red and blue flannel were woven into her long, thick braids, and one of their grandfather's hunting knives hung from a beaded belt that was cinched at her waist. Lionel wondered if perhaps his dream were true and that Beatrice had changed on the far side of the horizon, and then returned.

“I'll lend you this until you and young Lionel there find your own way,” Grandpa was saying as he tied a long feather from a red-tailed hawk's wing into Beatrice's braid.

Beatrice smiled, and Lionel thought that it was the first time he had seen her smile since before they had left the boarding school. Lionel ran his hand across his closely cropped hair.

“Don't you worry. You're next. It just might take a while before we can get to it, eh, boy?” Grandpa stood to stoke the coals from the previous night. “I think we best get moving.”

Lionel saw through the cabin's small frosted windows that it was still dark. He slipped back into his clothes and crossed to the door.

“Get some water on your way back,” Grandpa called after Lionel. “It's good to see you up on your feet. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake.”

Lionel smiled, opened the cabin's door, and stepped out onto the fresh-fallen snow. He stood for a moment looking up at the faded stars and full moon that still hung in the far corners of the clear, early-morning sky. The air was cold and dry, and Lionel could feel it filling his lungs as he walked past the small stable to the outhouse.

Ulysses stood in a stall next to Grandpa's mule. He snorted to the air as Lionel passed.

“I'll get to you, don't worry about that,” Lionel said, his voice cracking with his first words of the day.

Lionel continued to the outhouse, looking to the river, confused by what his grandfather had told him about Napi the old Man creating the land. The Brothers and priest at the school had told Lionel that the world, the entire world, was created by someone else, not Napi the old Man, and that it had taken six days. He wondered how two different people could create the same world on which they walked and rode across every day. He still wondered what had happened to the Frozen Man.

When Lionel retuned to the warmth of the cabin, he heard the snap, popping sound of bacon. Corn Poe sat by the fire with a long fork in his hand.

“Hey, there. That's for all of us,” Grandpa shouted across the room as Corn Poe tried to blow on a piece of sizzling bacon that was already in his mouth.

Grandpa stood over a wooden table with Beatrice at his side, looking at a large map. “The river will lead you up into the Mountain, but remember there are many twists and turns. once you get to the base of the Mountain, a stream will join the river. You must follow this stream north. The stream will take you to the valley and then the meadow.”

Lionel glanced around the room. Small bundles made of heavy canvas lay about in preparation for travel. There was grain for Ulysses, a collection of small pots and pans, preserved vegetables in glass jars, canned fruit, salt pork, jerked venison, and various items of heavy wool clothes. The buffalo robe that Lionel slept in was also tied into a tight bundle and sitting next to the supplies.

“Where are we going?” Lionel asked.

“Into the Mountain,” Grandpa replied, and went about his work.

They ate a large breakfast of eggs, slab bacon, and canned pears; then Grandpa told Lionel to go out and tend to Ulysses because they had a long ride ahead of them.

Lionel stepped back out into the morning thinking about what his grandfather said. Into the Mountain? where was that?

Lionel could see the first hints of light in the eastern sky. He fed Ulysses, then led him to the river where the great horse drank. Lionel scanned the horizon, hoping to catch a glimpse of the three hawks and the eagle that circled his memory of their grandfather's cabin, but the sky was empty except for the low snow clouds that hung in the distance.

Lionel turned back to the cabin and wondered if, wherever they were headed, he would ever see Grandpa's place again. He hoped that if he did return, he could come live with Grandpa instead of at the boarding school. Lionel liked school but thought that living with his grandfather would be better and something that, at the very least, he should try. He thought about what his sister had said and felt that he too would like to learn about the ways of the old People.

Lionel's thoughts were interrupted by Grandpa, Beatrice, and Corn Poe, who gathered with the bundles around Ulysses. Grandpa instructed Beatrice how to tie the supplies to the back of the horse. Then he handed her a long rifle wrapped in buckskin and a wooden box filled with ammunition.

“I want you to be careful with this. Kill only what you'll eat.”

Corn Poe stood back, inspecting the horse and its newly configured load. The small boy was quiet this morning, and Lionel thought that the cold must be taking its toll on him.

“I don't see how we're all gonna fit with all this here junk you got tied all over,” Corn Poe said, more to Grandpa than anyone else.

“You're right about that. I think you'll be coming with me,” Grandpa said as he double-checked the lashings. “We'll wander for a while to throw off them government boys, and then I'll get you back to your home.”

“But…I thought…” Corn Poe stammered.

“Well, you thought wrong. It's too cold to be wanderin' about unless you have to. Until we straighten this all out, these two don't have a choice. You do, and I'm making it for you,” Grandpa said with a wink. “Besides, we're on a mission of our own.”

Grandpa spun Ulysses around and lifted Lionel onto his back. Lionel's legs were stiff, as if he'd just gotten off the horse moments before.

“Now, me and the Corn Poe's wanderin' won't throw them for long, but it should help. You're going to need every little bit of a lead we can give. Hell, to be honest with ya, if you can make it to the Mountain, I doubt you'll see any of them soldiers until well into the thaw. Maybe not even till summer.”

Beatrice slipped up behind Lionel, and Grandpa threw the buffalo robe around them.

“Now, Beatrice, it might be cold out there in the open, but I want you to walk in the shallows of the river when you can for the first half of the day. It'll be harder for them to track you from the river, and this big fellow looks like he can handle it.”

Grandpa slipped a rawhide harness over Ulysses's head.

“From the looks of things, you should get some more snow this afternoon. That'll help. You hide out until you hear from me. I'll bring this one back by the Boss Ribs' place and see what I can find out, and then, once some of the excitement has worn off, I'll come and find ya with more supplies and some sorta plan.”

Beatrice took the reins in her hands and turned Ulysses toward the river.

“Now, I want you two to pay attention. Be aware of what's around you and watch. That school and them government men tried to kill that in ya. You've got to find and listen to it. Listen to the animals, the wind, the mountains. we may not speak the same language no more, but they're talkin' to ya. It's up to you if you choose to listen.”

Grandpa took a long braid of twisted sweet grass from his jacket and lit the end. He raised it high above his head and began to sing. The smoke swirled above him and lay flat on the cold morning air. Corn Poe stood at his side watching Grandpa's every move as Beatrice urged Ulysses past them and into the shallow icy water of the river.