On quiet feet Ziibi followed Ajijaak. She did not trust him in this state. She had angered him, and though his anger hurt her, it did not make her shrink from him or reject him. It just made her that much more determined to watch over him. Her mind raced with prayers for him, prayers to keep evil from tempting him to some stupid action. She had listened to the stories of her noko and she knew that there were spirits that tempted young men when defeat had come. In the forest they waited for Ajijaak to humiliate him. Like a small light in a great dark, she ran silently after him. Words came to her mind, “Oh protect the wound of his heart, do not let evil enter in. Meet him, Healing Spirits in the night of his lost hope.”

By the Great Sea she saw him stop. She waited. The air seemed to vibrate with unseen forces. Her throat grew thick and would not let sound pass through it when she tried to shout a warning to him. He turned away from the water and ran to the white cedars. There, the wind sang. There Mikwam appeared, and much to Ziibi’s astonishment Ajijaak saw him. Mikwam howled and howled again. Though Ziibi did not hear the howl of the answering wolf, she suddenly felt a change. Slowly in complicated circles Ajijaak began to dance. It was a beautiful dance of self-surrender. His feet tapped to the rhythm of Ziibi’s heart. His arms moved gracefully like the wings of a great bird. His head wagged from side to side in time with his feet. He was consumed by an inner chant. The Healing Spirits were present.She had never seen anything like this dance before. It seemed choreographed by someone from the Path of Souls. Mikwam continued to howl in measured segments. Far away, caught in the wind and tossed into her ears, she heard the answering howl of another wolf. Deep peace settled over her. Some how it was all right. Her prayers had been heard. Ajijaak was enclosed in a power beyond his home. He was safe, at least for now.

A hand touched her shoulder. Another closed over her mouth before she could gasp out her fear. The hands were familiar. A soft voice said, “You should not be here.” It was Ajijaak’s noko. The old woman took her hands away from Ziibi’s mouth and shoulder. She motioned for her to follow. In complete silence, the blind old woman led Ziibi back to village. The music drifted in the air. Though the sound of the pipes still sang and the gourds still rattled, the drums were silent. Around the fire old men sang. Ziibi heard the high-pitched whine of their voices filter through the birch and oak trees. She thought Ajijaak’s noko was taking her to the others but she did not. She took her to the tent of the female Midewiwin.

No, not this place, she was afraid of this place. Since they had come she had avoided these two women. Deep inside she sensed they had the power to change her life and she did not want her life changed. Her step slowed and her heart began to beat hard. In the faint glow of their smoking fire she saw the gaze of their bright eyes gaze in the dark. Smoke curled around them like spirits of protection. Their ears were alert to the sound of Ziibi and the noko’s coming. They turned their faces in unison to the sound of their step.

Ajijaak’s noko entered the small circle of light that held the women. She said, “I have found her.”

“Thank you, Aamoo.”

The old woman bowed and left Ziibi’s side. Bereft, Ziibi’s eyes went to the ground. Her body trembled. What did these women want with her? Would their tidings be ill or good?

In a soft voice one of the women said, “Do not be afraid child. Come sit by our fire.”

Ziibi did as she was told. Cautiously she raised her eyes to meet the women. Their faces were very similar. Were they sisters? Twins? Ziibi had never seen twins before. They seldom survived in this harsh world.

One had a small scar on her cheek she said, “Yes, we are sisters, but not twins. Did you know you are one of us?

Ziibi nodded.

The one with the smooth cheek asked, “Has your father told you about us?”

Struggling to find her voice Ziibi said, “Only that you are from his family, his cross cousins and that you are greatly respected for your healing powers.”

The women both nodded. “Did he tell you that when you are of age, you will come to live in our village and we will teach you healing and prayer?”

“Yes, if I am approved.”

“Yes, if you are approved. Tomorrow night, they will meet and your father will present you.”

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Ziibi had known about this meeting. It was the most important event of the gathering of the people, but she had not known she would be present at it. No one had told her she would be presented so soon. She thought she still had time. Time to just be a child. Once she was accepted, if she was accepted, her childhood would end. It was too soon.

The scar-cheeked woman said, “It is not too soon. Many things have come to you already and you must be guided before you get lost in the temptations of your own power. Power must be directed properly so it will not do harm to you are to others.”

The smooth cheeked sister said, “I am Mitigomin, and this is my sister, Mitigomizh. Tonight, we will chant for you. We will ask the Great Spirit to guide the Midewwiin to the best choice for you and for the people. Just because we think you have a gift and your father thinks you do too, does not mean that you will be accepted. The will of the Midewiwin will decide your worthiness. Whatever they choose we will abide by. Only they can determine by divine guidance whether or not you would do harm or good as a member of the Midewiwin.”

Insulted Ziibi busted out, “I would not do harm!”

The Mitigomin smiled. “We all do harm, but to be Midewiwin your good must out weigh the harm. What will be entrusted to you if you are chosen is sacred and it must not be abused. So much damage has been done by those who have abused their gifts and the powers they have learned.”

Mitigomizhnsaid, “No man likes to have his heart read out loud to him. A woman must read his heart and ask for guidance in speaking to his hurt. Speaking his hurt to his face only causes him to draw away. A man likes to have his secrets. He does not want his weakness spoken of or even noticed. You must release your hold on him. He must find his own way.”

Though so young Ziibi knew and felt anguish akin to the anguish Ajijaak had felt among the cedars. He had been to her what Miinan had been to him, and now she must release the desire of her soul as well. She could not hold him though she wanted to so badly. To do so, she knew deep within her would do him damage. He had been damaged enough. Her love for him must outweigh her selfishness. It was very hard. She was so young, and yet, she knew that it was what she must do. Silently, with tears filling her eyes she nodded her ascension.

The tent flap opened and her father walked in. He asked, “May I take her home now?”

The Mitigomizh and Mitigomin nodded.

Unexpectedly Mikinak picked up Ziibi. Her tears splashed on his bare shoulder. He held her close. She buried her face in the softness of his neck. He smelled of pipe smoke. As he carried her out she felt the beat of his heart. It was steady and strong. In a soft voice he said, “You will do well, my child. You will do well.”

Her father’s faith in her soothed her. He had never spoken such an affirmation over her. Still, even such sweet words could not take the sting out of what she had just released. She felt hollow, lost, devoid of all she had been.

*

Dressed in his finest clothes, Ajijaak stood very still. On his leggings were sewed copper bells and seashells. His elk loin skin was covered with intricate designs of porcupine quills died in bright reds, blues and yellows. His chest was bare, but his face was painted. On his arms were more copper bells tied to strings. Around his neck was a plate of quills. Behind him was the lodge that had been built to hold the secrets of the Midewiwin. Its walls were thick and it looked like a fortress among the trees. Ziibi shivered inside. Soon she would be in that building, soon she would be presented.

The sound of the drum began to beat calling the people. Ajijaak began to move in time with the drum. His body was not his own, but belonged to the song of the drum, the sacred drum that called all the forces of good and repelled the forces of evil. This was Ajijaak’s first time to lead the dance. As he moved, Ziibi’s fear left her. He was dancing the dance of the howling wolves. He was dancing the dance he danced when he saw Mikwam. Did he see Mikwam now? Ziibi looked around for her guardian, but she did not see him. Her eyes returned to Ajijaak. She noticed the dark circles beneath the paint around his eyes. She saw the heaviness of his step and she understood what it meant to continue to do the work he was created for despite the hollowness of his heart. Her heart was hollow, yet here she stood beside her father, dressed in her best dress to face what ever destiny the Great Spirit had called her to. Her mother was not happy about her being introduced into the Midewiwin and that was to be expected. She had not voiced her protest or her displeasure, but she made it very obvious by her posture and her behavior. As she stood watching, every bit of her mother made clear she did not want her youngest child to be part of Midewiwin.

When the dance had finished, the Midewiwin went inside of the lodge. It smelled of fresh birch bark and cedar. A small fire smoked in the center of the room. The old men took their places first. Their lined faces and gnarled hands testaments to the rigorous lives of prayer and devotion that they had lived. Those next in age sat, then others, then the women. Ziibi remained standing with her father.

The oldest and most powerful Midewiwin, Waaside said in a low voice, “Girl you will be considered for apprenticeship and future practice. All that happens within these walls and all that will be given to you in power, magic and spirit will remain secrets that you will not share until you are permitted to teach the next generation. So now, all that enters your mind and heart will be forever sealed from common knowledge. To share our secrets is to betray all people and the honor of your family. Seal your lips and your mind to the events that are about to take place. Will you swear to do so?”

Ziibi nodded. It was a promise she would keep until the day she died.