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The Echo Makers
Chapter 8. Night Spirits

Chapter 8. Night Spirits

First, Ajijaak had felt eyes upon him, the eyes of a wolf. His heightened sense of smell had not registered wolf. He turned. The rising moon shone on a small form. Ziibi! How tiny she was, out here all alone. How had she come to be here? It was not safe. She stood very still, but he could see she was struggling to control her trembling body. Her eyes that reflected the moon, held a steady trusting light. She knew he would not hurt her. He put his net and bucket down. With the communal hand language he signed, “Why are you here?”

For some reason the little girl grasped the air at her side as if she were holding onto something. She looked down and nodded at some unseen entity. When she looked at Ajijaak, she cleared her throat. With face raised and eyes wide she licked her lips. Sudden fear grasped Ajijaak. The child had come for some purpose. If she thought something was important and needed to be communicated, she did not hold her tongue. Fear creeped through him. He waited for her answer, but she remained silent. Let her remain silent. He turned from her and picked up his net and bucket. His hope was that he would escort her home in silence. Before he could go to her, she came to him. Her small hand wrapped around his wrist. In it was the same power he had felt when her father, Mikinaak, had applied the ashes to his body before he had gone off to dream. Only, he had not dreamed.

Quietly, Ziibi asked, “Do you know why you did not dream?”

He did not. In his desperation he shook his head.

With eyes full of moonlight, Ziibi told him, “You did not dream because your mind and heart are too full of my sister. You must set aside what your desire and seek what is required of you.”

Though the words had been spoken by a child the voice within them was ancient. Ziibi did not look real in the light of Grandmother Moon. She looked more spirit than human. Was she right, was this why he had not dreamed?

The small hand let go of his wrist. Ziibi muttered something, and headed back down the trail alone. Remembering himself, Ajijaak ran after her. It was not safe for her to be out alone. Though encumbered by his fishing gear he soon caught up with her. She grinned at him and scoffed, “Ha, I let you catch me!” She darted away.

How swift she was, even in the dark. Though he could not keep up with her, though he tried. She was so sure footed, not once did she stumble in the shadows, but he did several times. Ahead of her he thought he saw a sliver wolf running. It was only some weird reflection of the moon, at east this is what he told himself. Truth was, he could feel the presence of spirits wandering, dancing along beside the running child. When at last they reached the village, Ziibi glanced back at him. She stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared into her house.

Ajijaak cast a wary eye around the sleeping village. At least Ziibi was now home safe. With catch in hand, he made his way home. Once there, it was too dark to gut the fish. He went to the old pine and grasped the loose rope that hung from a branch. He tied one end to the bucket strap, and then hoisted it high into the tree. It was cold enough to keep the fish fresh until morning when his mother would make a fine breakfast of his catch. He may not dream and he may not speak, but he was a good fisherman and an even better hunter. No matter what he would provide for his family, as long as he breathed his mother and his noko would not go hungry.

*

The next morning, Ajijaak overslept. When he woke he smelled the sweet aroma of roasting fish. His mother had made his favorite food. Catfish fillet’s stuffed and rolled with maple sugar and mint leaves roasted on the fire. He pushed he robes off and went outside. His mother smiled at him, as did his Noko. She said, “The fish is very good.”

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He nodded his thanks and took the bark platter and the hot de-boned fish. The flesh was flaky and sweetened just right. He smiled lopsidedly as he stuffed his mouth. Crabs boiled in a pot on the fire. They would be made into his favorite soup. His mother was a skilled cook and particular about her dishes. His eyes wandered across the village and then he saw her. Her saw her long black braid shining white as it reflected the sun. He saw her shy eyes dart in his direction. He stopped chewing to watch and wait. Was she about to go to the Great Sea? She turned; no she was going to the river to gather reeds. Behind her Ziibi ran. She saw Ajijaak and once again stuck her tongue out him. Her expression was so comical he could not help himself he smiled at her. The smile she returned to him was as radiant as the sun. She skipped and grabbed her sister’s hand. What he would do to hold her sister’s hand. Ziibi’s words from the night before echoed in his mind. “You must seek what is required of you.” What was required of him? He felt his noko’s unseeing eyes on him. He turned to her and waited for her to speak. She did not, she merely shook her head. He wondered what Noko saw behind her sightless eyes. How much did she sense? Did she know he did not dream, that his life was without vision?

The rest of the day, Ajijaak pursued easy tasks. He carved sticks with the sharp knife he had fashioned from the rib bone of a moose. It sliced through the bark easily. The sticks whittled and notched would form the base to prop a large rock. On one stick he would lay dried berries. When a squirrel or rabbit came to eat them they would trip the sticks and the stone would fall on them killing them. This method, did no damage to the skin, and he would give it to his mother to make him a skin hat or a pouch depending on what he caught. As he worked a new idea came to him. What if he made a big trap? A trap so big he could catch one of the bears that lived in a den up river. To catch and kill a bear would make him a man in the eyes of the village. But he could not do it alone. He would need to form a hunting party. Who? His cousin and his uncle, would that be enough? They had a long canoe that could carry a bear. It was stout and held their entire family. Was now the time to trap a bear? He would have to ask his uncle. He set aside his tools and walked to his uncle’s house. Uncle Ogaa was in his usual spot with back pressed against an oak tree repairing arrows. His uncle looked up at him with concerned eyes. Did he suspect he had not dreamed? He would not ask, he never would ask. Dreams were sacred and belonged only to the dreamed.

With the supple movements of his hands, Ajijaak spoke in the communal language of signs. He pointed from his uncle to himself, felled and invisible tree with an invisible ax and made the sign for bear.

Uncle Ogaa smiled. Perhaps he thought this was part of what what Ajijaak had dreamed. He said, “Yes, we can do that. In a few suns. You are still recovering from your quest. When you are fully recovered, we will go. Now get back home and sharpen your spears.”

Ajijaak bowed and smiled his thanks. He set off down the path toward home. He hoped for another glimpse of Miinan. Thought, he could not see her, he heard her voice as she sang at her work. The sweetness of it caused him to stop where he was and just listen.

Ziibi came bursting out of the bush. Fiercely she said, “You are slow of foot and slow of mind. Have you forgotten what I said already?” Her lips were stained with blueberry juice. Her teeth were purple as was her tongue. The sight of her caused laughter to tickle in his throat. He squelched the laughter because he knew it would make her mad. Still, his eyes shone with his amusement. Ziibi’s tiny brown hands went to her narrow hips. She looked up at him and cocked her head. “So you think I am funny?”

He nodded. Against his better judgement, his laughter rolled out of him. It made a strange whistling sound deep in his throat. It rose high and loud. It was the only remnant of the speech he once possessed. The angry look on Ziibi’s face dissolved into a smile. She said, “Your laughter sounds like the song of the wind in the reeds. It is a happy sound.” Her bright eyes shone up at him, she seemed pleased with herself.

Her noko’s voice called, “Ziibi, where are you?”

Ziibi gave him one last smile and ran back to her noko.