[2014] Wildwood Shadows Read online

  I jogged around the fire, changing the jog into a silly dance simply by looking up at the sky and then down at the ground. I had already done a lap and a half before I was about to stop my goofy endeavor. That was when I heard something of a battle cry followed by several men rushing to the fire. Some carried spears and others carried sticks decorated with leather cords, feathers, and paint. I thought for certain that I was about to be sacrificed when they started dancing.

  I stopped only for a moment before I realized that I might have been expected to continue dancing. Before I realized what was happening, I was dancing with another man. We faced each other as he chanted and gyrated before me. I continued dancing, but at a more reserved pace than the Indians around me.

  Another man inserted himself and started dancing before me as well. This man was covered in streaks of paint from his head down to his feet. He smiled as he moved in his wild dance. At no time did I feel like I was supposed to stop, so I continued dancing with these people until a middle-age woman stepped in and brought me a steaming portion of meat on the end of a pointy stick. She then handed me an ear of corn which had been shucked and cooked over a fire. I held it by the partially burned husk and took a bite of the corn. Although it lacked the butter and salt I would typically douse it in, it was good and sweet.

  A cheer came from somewhere in the crowd. Someone else hollered something that I didn’t understand. Then my dad’s voice came from somewhere in the distance telling me to taste the meat. I pulled it close and looked at the large chunk of meat. In the firelight, I could see that it was still very pink in color which turned my stomach. I usually ordered my meat well-done and this unknown chunk of meat was far from it. Unfortunately, I could feel a million eyes on me, so I had no choice. I drew the stick close and took a good size bite. It was soft and undercooked, so chewing it was no problem. I quickly swallowed it, surprised to discover it wasn’t so bad.

  The cheers were much louder now and the dancing stopped. Everyone was now going to where the food was. I shrugged and then took another bite of corn. Just then, my father put an arm around me and pulled me close.

  “I regret sincerely that I didn’t spend enough time with you growing up, Maddox,” he said, “Because I was just standing there a moment ago frightened the whole time that you might mess up and insult them. If I’d known you better, I wouldn’t have been afraid. You accepted the make-up, you danced the dance, and then you enjoyed their food. I’m proud of you, kid. Amazingly proud.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, “Do you have the microwave hooked up yet? This cow might still be mooing.”

  “It’s not cow,” he chuckled, “That’s the bear you and I killed earlier today.”

  “Nice,” I said, “Honestly, it’s not bad.”

  He squeezed me close again and then proceeded over to the other fire where the food was being served. I sat down on a nearby rock and watched the lively people as they conversed and feasted just like any family reunion or holiday party in my own time. I took another bite of the bear meat and chewed it a bit slower this time, savoring the strong flavor of my first kill.

  Seeing the joy in these people made my heart suddenly sink at the thought of my mother. She would now be all alone and without a house. She had lost everything and she deserved none of the punishments she had received over the years. Here I was partying in the past and considering a potential marriage just because my hormones told me I wanted nothing else in life.

  “Don’t do it,” I suddenly heard aloud.

  I turned to see that White Owl had seated himself on the ground next to me. He had a ceramic bowl filled with a mixture of vegetables. He picked up a steaming slice of zucchini or squash and tossed it into his mouth. He blew out, trying to cool the chunk as he chewed it quickly.

  “She says yes to different things all the time and then it changes to ‘no’ later,” he said, “She doesn’t commit to anything, so while you think it’s amazing that such a beautiful girl wants to be yours, by winter, she will have changed her mind.”

  “Maybe so,” I offered, “But what if your sister is a wonderful person? What if it turns out that I eventually return home to learn that I lost my only chance in life to be happy?”

  “You are asking questions about the future to a man who cannot ride the river of time like you do,” he replied, “Do you suffer from the same lack of future knowledge that we do?”

  “In some ways. I don’t know what her future will be like any more than I know my own. I don’t know your future or Grey Wolf’s,” I said, “But you should know that I want a good future for everyone. Your concern for your sister is understandable and I will honor that. And you should know that I miss my mother and I want to make sure she is alright. She might need me still since she is all alone in the world. So as you can see, I really don’t know what I should do.”

  “That settles my heart, Maddox. I’m glad to know that you are thinking about everything instead of just making a sudden decision,” he replied, “Wisdom fades when the heart rules a man. The heart is a good thing, but don’t let it rule you, my friend.”

  I turned to him. The firelight danced across his features as he stared into the fire. He fingered a bean pod for a moment and then tossed it into his mouth.

  “You call me ‘friend’?” I asked.

  “Now that I know you maintain a bit of wisdom… yes, I believe you are a friend.”

  We sat there in silence as we ate. Others joined us at the fireside, all the while talking and laughing like any friendly campfire in my time. I tossed my corncob into the fire, following what I’d seen others do. After most of us were done eating, I was prodded back to dancing with one of the younger Indians – probably the same age as White Owl. I’d come to accept the fact that dancing with other men was normal here. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t seen a single woman dancing around the fire. I was just grateful that there were no slow dances here.

  The dancing and partying lasted well into the night. At one point, I had to ask my father to explain to me how people went to the bathroom around here. And I wasn’t asking about the simple act of urinating on a tree. There were no toilets, outhouses, or toilet paper here, so I was at a loss. He explained it to me and made sure I located a spot with plenty of leaves that were safe for wiping. Apparently, poison ivy or poison oak made for uncomfortable toilet paper.

  I retired to the pitch dark longhouse with my father at a time I would consider midnight. He allowed me to use the flashlight which was nearly worn out by then. I shined my flashlight around the dark room, discovering blanketed lumps throughout where others had already retired. Some subtle snores informed me they were far gone and not even my futuristic light would awaken them. In one instance, my light shone on a naked woman sitting upright on a pile of blankets. Her eyes were closed, so thankfully she hadn’t seen me, but the man beneath her had. He instantly waved me and my flashlight away so we wouldn’t interrupt them. It hadn’t occurred to me until just then that people would still have sex, even if they were forced to share their one-room home with many others. The intense darkness usually made this possible, but here I had come with my modern flashlight.

  My dad whispered for me to aim the flashlight straight down until I found my bed. It was still located where I had last seen it. There would be no further talking as he wished me a good night’s sleep and then found his way to the bed he shared with his wife.

  I lay on the smelly fur bed and drew the stiff leather blanket over me. It had been a warm evening, so the blanket may not have proven necessary. Nevertheless, I used it to protect me from the darkness in an unfamiliar place. Shortly after I closed my eyes, I sank into a dream world filled with cowboys and Indians, battling against each other in the old west.

  Koosko

  I woke up to the sound of two kids whispering near me. I opened my eyes to discover two toddlers kneeling next to my “bed”. The boy, probably around the age of five whispered something I didn’t understand. The girl, maybe one year his junior, then said som
ething that sounded like “Chewbacca”.

  “Let me guess. You are my step-brother and step-sister,” I leaned up on my elbow and offered my hand to shake.

  “Don’t speak things like that aloud, Maddox. There are many who understand what you’re saying and I can’t afford for those things to get out,” Dad said.

  I looked over and saw him leaning up behind his wife who lay awake in front of him. She was pretty enough for an older woman, but I still held a decent amount of animosity toward her as though she were the one who broke my family apart. She merely watched me from her side of the room.

  “So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked.

  “I’m sending you out again with White Owl and Wildwood Shadows. They will show you some basic things you’re going to need to know in this world such as starting a fire, what is safe to eat or drink, and how to find your way around without a compass or street signs,” he said.

  “But don’t you need my help with the generator?” I asked.

  “You would only get in the way, Maddox,” he said, “I don’t mean that in a cruel way at all. The small generator is built already and I’m certain it works, so that will give us the use of power tools today. These people are great at working wood even without power tools, so I expect that we’ll get a lot done in regards to the full size water wheel and the dynamo it will run.”

  “But… what if I’m going back home?” I asked, “I won’t need to know how to build a fire or to drink from rivers.”

  “That’s the question, now isn’t it?” he said, “But until you have the answer to your own question, I’m preparing you for this world. I’ll send someone to get you more clothing from the house, but until then, you’ll be fine to wear what you had on yesterday.”

  And just like that, my father had shut me down. I made sure the shotgun was fully loaded and then strapped it over my shoulder as I made my way out into the shining sun. Wildwood had been waiting outside on a split-log bench. She smiled at me as I started in her direction. She waited until I was seated next to her before she was willing to speak the language of the spirits.

  “I’m taking you to find your grandfather today,” she whispered, “I think I know where he is, so I decided we should go bring him here.”

  “Really?” I asked, “My dad would be excited if we brought him back!”

  “Then let’s go!” she said, rising up from the bench.

  She led the way to a different opening into the woods where it offered us a worn path just like the one that led to the river. Once we were clear of the village, I felt it was safe to talk to her aloud.

  “Where’s White Owl?” I asked, “My dad said he was joining us today.”

  “Yes, he will be along later. He knows where we’re going,” she said, maintaining her focus up ahead.

  She led the way through the winding path and I made sure to follow close behind. She didn’t appear to be in a talking mood today, nor was she holding my hand like she did yesterday. She was playing the role of scout and guide and I was merely the follower.

  We were probably a half mile from the village when we left the dirt path and headed into a portion of the woods where the floor was covered with green plants of enormous heart-shaped leaves. She paused about three steps in and then drew an arrow from her quiver. She pointed with the arrow down at the giant leaves surrounding her feet.

  “Do your best not to damage any of these leaves. Slide your feet beneath them as you walk,” she said.

  I followed her direction as we made our way through the green carpet. Soon, we were walking through dirt and moss again, suffering the wrath of the briars and vines that attempted to block our way.

  “Are you sure this is the way? It doesn’t seem like anyone ever took this route before,” I said.

  “We rarely go to the Cuyahoga Cliffs anymore which is why no one speaks of seeing the White Papa,” she said, “The cliffs have nothing productive to offer us. It’s a haunt for wolves, snakes, and poison ivy.”

  “Are we going to be okay there?” I asked.

  She turned to me and offered one of her beautiful smiles. This one however appeared to be more of a smirk.

  “If White Papa survived there, we surely can,” she said, “Besides, we’ve-”

  She didn’t finish her sentence as she whipped the bow from her shoulder and slotted the arrow she still held onto from earlier. She aimed it at my head, causing me to duck suddenly as she released the arrow. It whistled past my ear and ended in a sharp, wet thwack. I cried out as I fell the rest of the way to the ground, fumbling for my shotgun. Something heavy thudded to the ground behind me. I finally had my shotgun in hand by the time I’d turned to discover an arrow rising from a cheetah. It wasn’t a cheetah of course, but that’s what I had initially thought when I looked upon it.

  Wildwood was at my side poking me with the end of her bow as I struggled to get up. I could now see that it was a bobcat that was every bit as large as me. It might as well have been a cheetah considering the enormity of it. I looked up and saw the wide branch that it must have been perched upon hanging barely ten inches above my head and maybe two feet behind me at the time.

  “You thought I was going to shoot you,” she said.

  “Yes, initially it seemed so,” I replied, staring at the dead cat.

  The sight confused me for a moment. Typically when an animal is killed by an arrow, one would expect to see the feathered end of the arrow protruding from it. Instead, I was looking at the bloodied arrowhead and the shaft rising from its ribcage.

  “Why would I kill you, Maddox?” she asked casually, as though we were discussing our day over dinner.

  “Pfft… how would I know?” I replied, “All I know is that you aimed it at me after you made sure to get me lost in the woods.”

  She laughed as she approached the dead cat. She tugged the arrow out of it and grabbed a few leaves to wipe it off. In spite of her efforts, the arrow kept some of the burgundy color in remembrance of the cat.

  “You formed this opinion based on the fact that I’m six winters past my first childbearing year. I’m the only of my tribe who has reached such an age without accepting a mate and providing grandchildren,” she said, still struggling to get the blood from the feathers, “The cat fell the wrong way, forcing the arrow through its body. I’m surprised the shaft didn’t break.”

  “In my world, people don’t usually have children until they are at least your age today,” I said, “So no, I don’t think you’d shoot me for that reason.”

  “The people in my tribe think something is wrong with me. My own brother believes I’m secretly a man because I enjoy hunting and fighting,” she said, “And since I have not borne any children to the tribe, I must surely be… what’s the word Robert used to describe it… insane! I’m insane!”

  I laughed at this one. She rose from the ground and dropped the bloody leaves. She then handed me the arrow.

  “Nice,” I said, examining it and then handing it back.

  “It’s yours, Maddox,” she said, “You always keep the arrow that saved your life. Place it under your bed and it will bring protection.”

  I looked at it again and then nodded to her with a smile. I looked for a place to carry it and then asked her to keep it in her quiver for now. She agreed since there were no other options.

  “Well, I don’t think you’re insane. I only freaked out because I don’t enjoy it when anyone points a weapon in my direction. People don’t always get killed intentionally you know,” I said.

  “I guess you’re right about that one,” she said, “Well, please let me know the first moment you believe I’m insane. If you tell me to my face, I won’t be offended.”

  She started onward, deeper into the forest while leaving the cat behind us. She would later tell me that she had always wanted an outfit made of bobcat fur. Had we not been headed to the cliffs, she would have skinned it and left the meat for the wolves.

  “You said that you don’t just like to hunt, but that
you also like to fight,” I said as I followed her, “Fight how?”

  “The warchief prepared young people for battle in case we ever found ourselves at war with another tribe. I was his only female student,” she said, “He accepted me for who I was and eventually commended me as one of the best warriors he had ever seen. This proclamation was public, so obviously there were some angry warriors.”

  “So, are you a warrior?” I asked, surprised by such a concept.

  “No, the tribe still will not allow such a thing. The warchief allows it, but I think it’s more like teaching a child the spirit language even though you aren’t allowed to ever use it,” she said.

  “Then what is your position in the tribe?” I asked.

  “A huntress. I am the only one in this generation. We’ve had huntresses in the past, but they are long passed on,” she said, “One was said to have felled two deer with a single arrow. And this was during a harsh winter when the village was experiencing the onset of starvation. I will fell three deer with an arrow one day and show them that I’m not some insane woman.”

  She was now leading the way down a steep incline, forcing us both to hold onto nearby saplings for support. We were then passing through a grassy meadow that allowed the morning sun to pierce through and warm us completely.

  “I believe you can fell three deer with a single arrow,” I said, “It seems you will do whatever it is you set your mind to.”

  She turned to me and stopped. The sky was clear and the sun was halfway to the midday mark, so it shone brightly upon her. Without the benefits of makeup or a shower, she was sincerely beautiful.

  “Now see, that’s what I believe as well! But to the tribe, this means I’m not normal. That something is truly wrong with me. And when it comes to love or accepting a mate, they don’t know how to accept that I was simply waiting for the right person.”

  She approached me and touched her nose to mine.

  “There’s a reason my favorite color was always blue,” she said, her breath against my lips, “The eyes that would one day see me and accept me for who I really am would be that same color.”