A dark presence seemed to rest over their home. Some evil spirit had been stirred or offended and as hard as Ajijaak tried he could figure out what he had done wrong. Since the birth of their baby, Wiinizik had retreated into a silent, listless place. She spoke seldom, did not cry or laugh. Faithfully she ate and fed the baby, but she slept a lot. Misko-amik was not doing well either. The pain from the cold was in his bones and he could not find relief. He did not sleep well. His wakefulness did help Ajijaak attend the baby, though. Misko-amik would wake him and tell him it was time for the baby to feed. The baby slept between them. He would nudge Wiinizik awake and she would give her breast to the baby. The baby would nurse contentedly. He was a contented child who seldom fretted. Which was fortunate considering all that his mother seemed unable to do. The baby delighted in his mother’s nearness.

Presently Ajijaak held the baby while Wiinizik slept. He longed to speak gentle words to his son, but he could not. He wondered what name his son would be given. He prayed it was a good name that would speak well of his future. He was such a beautiful child. His long black lashes framed eyes as dark as night. His skin was the color of sand and his limbs were growing strong and fat. Ajijaak could think of many names for his child, but he was not the one who would name him. Wiinizik had chosen an uncle of hers to name their child. When they reached their sugar bush, she would ask him to name their baby. Until the time a name was given the baby was known simply as Baby or Son. Once they asked the uncle they would have to wait until he had dreamed a dream that revealed the name of their child. It might take a year or more. It did not matter. The child Ajijaak held in his arms held the future in his small body. He was man in seed form, waiting to be watered by the experiences of life. Ajijaak looked into the bright dark eyes of his son, and wondered what thoughts formed behind those eyes. Did he dream already? He cuddled his son close and looked with concern at his woman. He was very worried about her. She needed medicine. Perhaps one of her aunts would have medicine to stop this sleeping sickness. He had heard his noko speak of women who lost their will to live, after giving life.

Rapped in his furs Misko-amik, sat by the fire. He was in much pain. He could see the concern in Ajijaak’s eyes, yet he remained silent. He was waiting; waiting for the question Ajijaak would ask when he was ready to hear the answer.

With the baby still in his arms Ajijaak went to the old man. He sat down and thrust his head in Wiinizik’s direction. He shifted the baby to one arm and wrote symbols in the ashes.

The time had come. Ajijaak saw Misko-amik brace himself. Fear filled him.The words he was about to hear would be hard.

In a low voice Misko-amik began, “When you first came to us, I knew you were the one. The one who would make drums and also learn the history and re-record it. I did not know that you would come to harbor my granddaughter’s heart. If I had, I would have sent you away. The women in my family do not bear children well, and it is a curse upon us. My sisters each succumbed to this curse. After giving life, their own life began to ebb until the flow of it stopped all together. When my woman and I had our first child, he was a boy and there was no danger in loosing him to sickness. He is still living. Our second child was a girl and she was such a happy child, I did not believe she would catch the sickness. I was wrong. After my daughter gave birth to Wiinizik. Her life began to ebb. Her man left her and found solace in another. One day she went out into the forest and did not return. We never found her. When I journey the Path of Souls I will know whether she is in this world or the other. Soon,” he took in a jagged breath, “soon, I will know.”

Ajijaak looked at his beautiful Wiinizik. He would not be able to bear it if she just disappeared one day. They must get medicine for her. His noko would know what she needed. They would go to his family’s sugar bush. He signed his plans to the old man.

Misko-amik nodded. “Yes, you should take her there. Your noko is wise. Perhaps she can cure her. I have heard that Mikinak is a good medicine man, perhaps he too, will be able to help.”

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Ajijaak folded his arms out and took one hand and began to raise it. They would leave at first light in the morning.

The old man nodded, but there was something in his gesture that troubled Ajijaak.

*

The next morning Ajijaak was awakened by the cries of his son. Morning light filtered through the edges of the doorflap. It was late. Misko-amik was usually awake by now. He placed his son at his mother’s breast and went to the pile of furs where Misko-amik lay sleeping. He crouched down beside the old man. No breath came out his nostrils. Alarmed Ajijaak knelt down and listened to his heart. It was silent.

Slowly Ajijaak stood.

Wiinizik, who had not spoken in two days asked, “What is it?”

Ajijaak turned, wishing he had the power of speech. To say the words would be faster than signing them out. He moved his hands to form Misko-amik’s spirit leaving his body.

Wiinizik’s face did not change expression. She nodded, turned her attention back to her baby and closed her eyes.

When the baby was fed, and rocked back to sleep, Wiinizik got up from her pallet and went to her grandfather’s body. She said, “Go get me some water so I may bathe and prepare my grandfather for his final journey.”

Ajijaak did as he was told. The wonder of seeing her up, gave his heart a small bubble of hope. He took a large birch bark basket and filled it with the snow, and then he placed the snow in the watertight basket Wiinizik had rigged high over the fire. He went outside and got more snow.

When there was enough water in the basket, Ajijaak tried to help Wiinizik, but she would not let him.She said, “It is not fitting for a man to prepare the dead. I can do this.” With an edge in her voice she added, “I will do this.”

Knowing she was right, Ajijaak went to the pallet where his son slept. His long dark lashes fanned against his round cheeks. He was a healthy baby, and must stay so. His health depended on that of his mother. How would this loss affect Wiinizik? Her face remained expressionless as she bathed her grandfather.She neatly braided his gray hair and plucked all his facial hair. With trembling fingers she pulled his best buckskins onto his old body. Ajijaak leapt up to help her, but she motioned for him to remain where he was. Next she placed her grandfather’s drum making tools beside him along with his best knife, his bone pencil and his favorite fishing basket. He would need these things on his journey to the Land of Souls. Her eyes were tearless. Usually women wailed and keened as they made these preparations. The silence was worse than such racket. It frightened, Ajijaak.

With her knife, Wiinizik cut off a lock of Misko-amik’s hair. She wrapped it in a sheet of thin birch bark. She put it in the bag she wore around her neck. Then she motioned for Ajijaak and the baby to join her. If Misko-amik had died in summer, his other relations would be beside him too, but here…here there was only the three of them.

Ajijaak did not know what would happen next. It was not customary for a woman to speak words over the dead. Doing so might give Misko-amik a bad start down the Path of Souls.

Beyond the door flap, a voice shouted, “I have come.”

Wiinizik was not disturbed by the voice, but Ajijaak was. He started to stand but Wiinizik placed her hand on his shoulder and made him sit still. She called, “Thank you for coming.”

Tensely Ajijaak waited for someone to enter, but no one did.

Outside the man began chant:

Our brother, you leave us,

Our brother, you are leaving,

Our brother, your spirit

Our brother, on the Path of Souls

Our brother, to the Land of Souls you are bound. (Ojibway Ceremonies, by Basil Johnston 1982, Bison Books, pgs.133-134)

The voice swung from the chant to a song like voice. “Misko-amik you are still among us waiting to journey far, far to the Land of Souls. There you will know no sickness, or envy, or anger, or hunger. It is a land of peace, where only men and women who walked in peace enter. You our brother were a man of peace. A man of kindness. You used your dreams and your gifts for the good of your family and your people. The drums you have made will echo long in our land. They will remind us of who we are, we are the people.”

Wiinizik began to keen. Her cries mingled with the words the unseen voice spoke. A sense of peace began to steal through Ajijaak. It was good that her grief come out. His noko had taught him that grief supressed poisoned the living.

When the voice had ceased, so did Wiinizik. She went to her pallet and lay down completely spent. She held out her arms for her child and Ajijaak placed the baby in them. He needed to go out to prepare the grave, but he was afraid to leave her. He lingered waiting, unsure of what to do. Aware of him Wiinizik said, “He will begin the grave. Do not leave me yet, Ajijaak, I am afraid.”

He went to her and scooped her and the baby into his arms. Against his cheek, Wiinizik whispered, “How could Nimishoomis go now? I need him so much now.”

Ajijaak did not know.