“Yes, but I can’t find him by the lake where he normally hangs out,” Caleb said. “I’m worried about him, and I don’t really know what to do.”
“I suspect he doesn’t want to be found right now, not after what happened.”
“What happened?” Caleb asked.
“Joshua’s mother hurt him, so he ran off. He is probably hiding somewhere at the village. He is afraid of people to begin with, and I’m worried that this will probably set things back for him.”
“Well, I have to find him, for Pukawiss. I promised, and I don’t intend to disappoint him. It sounds like he’s had too much of that already.”
“Indeed. That’s good of you. But consider doing it for Pywacky as well.”
Caleb was taken aback by the comment. He hadn’t considered doing this for Pywacky. But Gentle Eagle was right, of course. The poor creature needed someone on his side right now. And Caleb could find it in his heart to help out both Joshua and Pywacky at the same time.
Black Crow walked outside the Trading Post to join the gang at the picnic table. He had been running things inside, but no tourists had shown up due to the dreadful weather. He was getting restless and needed something to do.
“Black Crow,” Gentle Eagle called. “I have an important task for you.”
“Really?” Black Crow asked. He looked cautious, having just finished up the unpleasant task of tracking down Joshua’s mother.
“Yes, it will take all your knowledge and talents to accomplish this.”
“Yes, of course, anything!” he said, visibly excited this time.
“I need you to help Caleb find Pywacky.”
“Oh,” he muttered under his breath.
Caleb couldn’t help but feel the visible contempt. But he didn’t care. This was about helping someone else. Any ally was a welcome one, even someone as obviously bitter as Black Crow.
THE THREE boys arrived at Manitou River early in the afternoon, their clothes completely drenched from the unremitting rain. As they stepped onto the stones that lined the riverbed, Joshua immediately saw a beautiful ray of light breaching the dark clouds. It offered a brief respite from the relentless downpour and a glimmer of hope that their entire journey wouldn’t be marred by it. The river roared with life as it flowed rapidly downstream, having been replenished by the vibrant storm.
Mokwa tore off his wet shirt and tied it around his waist. It was a bit chilly out, Joshua thought while eyeing Mokwa, but hardly any worse than wearing a soaking wet T-shirt. So Joshua followed Mokwa’s lead. Little Deer kept his shirt on, clearly more concerned with figuring out their next step than with his own personal comfort.
It occurred to Joshua that in the several months he had known Little Deer, he was never all that affected by physical discomfort. Hot, cold, wet, or dry, these all just seemed like abstract concepts to Little Deer. He had to be bothered by the weather, he just didn’t show it. His legendary stoicism made him pleasant enough to be around during a bad situation, never overreacting to anything and never panicking. Instead, he calmly and objectively assessed each situation, observing it patiently, before offering the best possible solution.
Thinking about personal discomfort made Joshua realize how thirsty he was. He grabbed a bottle of water from his backpack, screwed the top off, and chugged the water down, attempting to satisfy his unquenchable thirst.
“Bro, stop!” Mokwa urged.
Joshua wiped his mouth innocently. “What?” he said, not understanding the problem.
“Dude, we need to save the water for an emergency situation.”
“I’m thirsty now. This is an emergency,” Joshua said.
“I’m not saying don’t drink the water. I’m saying don’t drink that water.”
“What water should I drink?”
“Bro, we are surrounded by fresh water. It’s been raining all day.”
Joshua looked quizzically at the rushing water. “But the river water could get us sick,” he objected.
“Not the river water. Follow me.”
Mokwa brought Joshua over to the tree line and showed Joshua several large leaves with indentations large enough to hold fresh water. “All you got to do is collect a few of these.” Mokwa grabbed a small birchbark cup from his backpack and placed it under one of the leaves as a demonstration. He twisted the leaf to the side, and a tiny amount of water poured into his container. After doing that with a few wet leaves, he handed it to Joshua. “One glass of fresh water.”
Joshua took the birchbark cup and eyed the water cautiously. “Ick, floaties,” he said as he saw tiny pieces of insect leftovers floating on the water.
“Oh my God, Pukawiss, don’t be such a girl.” Mokwa grabbed the cup and put it up to his mouth, instinctively eyeing it before scarfing it down. As he noticed the insects, he bore a disgusted expression and promptly handed the container to Little Deer. “Okay, so maybe we can drink a little bit of the bottled water now.”
Joshua smiled and instantly gulped down the rest of his bottled water.
Little Deer sipped the birchbark container Mokwa had handed to him without saying a word.
Mokwa gave him a questioning glance.
“What?” Little Deer said. “I’ve had worse.”
Mokwa quickly lost interest in the discussion as he observed the sunlight shining on two fallen trees by the river. “Over there,” he said, visibly excited as he pointed out the logs that had washed up on shore. Joshua and Little Deer followed their leader as he guided them to the crude “lounge chairs.” Upon arriving, Mokwa rolled his wet T-shirt into a ball and then took off his pants and added them to the pile. Soon he had a makeshift pillow. He placed the wet lump on the fallen trees, and laid the rest of his body down on the log as though it was a lawn chair, apparently undeterred by the wet, rough, and uneven bark. “Ah, paradise,” Mokwa said, closing his eyes and resting his hands behind his head. A few more beams of light engulfed him, drying off his drenched body.
“You have an overactive imagination,” Little Deer said to Mokwa.
“Hey, don’t ruin my vacation,” Mokwa said, his eyes still closed. Water occasionally sprayed him as the river crashed into the rocks surrounding the fallen trees.
Joshua had forgotten how uninhibited Mokwa could be, and he had learned over the summer to simply give in to it. Joshua stripped down to his boxers and likewise created a pillow with his clothes. He instantly felt the cold sting of the northern winds on his wet body. But he ignored the physical discomfort in favor of the far more satisfying emotional euphoria he felt as he lay on a log in his boxers next to Mokwa. The log, though rough and uncomfortable, was surprisingly warm. Rays of sunlight caressed his soaked body, convincing him of the desirability of the plan. “I wish I brought my sunglasses,” Joshua said, getting into the spirit of things.
“Right on, bro,” Mokwa replied.
Little Deer sat on a nearby rock protruding from the water and gazed into the fast-moving river as if uninterested in napping.
“So, when are you going to dream?” Mokwa said, as if expecting the visions to pour from Joshua at any moment.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Joshua said apologetically. “I can’t just turn them on and off.”
“Lame,” Mokwa said automatically.
“The manitous work in mysterious ways,” Little Deer added.
“When I was at camp, my dreams were so vivid,” Joshua reflected, suddenly feeling like opening up.
“What exactly did you dream about at camp?” Mokwa asked. He started to drift off as he asked it.
“I dreamt about some kid who had been murdered by some bullies many decades ago.” Joshua himself was drifting off as he said it. Unguarded, he realized he had come across as rather gruesome. But it didn’t matter now. He wanted Mokwa and Little Deer to know all of the horrific details of that terrible week. He had been keeping some of it inside, desperately trying to bury it. But he needed to get it out. And who better to talk to than his most trusted friends, his brothers?
<
br /> “Damn, Pukawiss, that’s pretty intense,” Mokwa replied, struggling to focus. “How do you know it really happened, though? I mean, how can you tell when it’s just a dream?”
“I saw the murdered boy’s face in a picture from the same time period. It was just as I had dreamt it. Exactly.”
“Well, Pukawiss, that’s good enough for me. You got some mad dream power. I’d follow you anywhere.” Mokwa’s voice trailed off a bit, exhaustion overcoming him while he enjoyed the inviting warmth of the sun.
“Me too,” Little Deer said as he continued to gaze into the river.
“Well, not like off a cliff or anything,” Mokwa muttered.
“Me too,” Little Deer agreed.
“I don’t think I can sleep now,” Joshua said.
“Just a power nap,” Mokwa said. “Just a pow….” Mokwa drifted off to sleep, unable to finish his words.
Joshua laughed inside as he turned his head and caught a glance of Mokwa. His bright red Mohawk looked like a sopping wet raccoon tail hugging the log, having been drenched by the rain. And Mokwa looked so vulnerable, so exposed, in his boxers. A flood of potent emotions came rushing back to Joshua. This time his feelings were not just of the warmth and comfort of being with friends and brothers. This was his full blown crush, all over again, the one that had made him hopelessly despondent for much of the summer. Wanting the impossible, the unavailable… there was nothing worse. But who wouldn’t want Mokwa? Joshua thought, as he peeked at Mokwa’s slim body glistening in the sun.
A rush of guilt suddenly overcame him. He had fallen hopelessly in love with Cody at summer camp. He even ran away from home to protect him from harm. His thoughts for Mokwa felt almost like a betrayal. Or maybe his thoughts toward Cody were a betrayal of Mokwa. Joshua sighed as he contemplated the agonizing dilemma brought about by the torturous emotion that was love. But things really weren’t that complicated. He could never be with Cody again, period. No matter how he felt about him. His dreams had warned him of that. Cody was hundreds of miles away anyway. But Mokwa, he was right there in front him. Of course, in a very different sense, Mokwa was also hundreds of miles away. He was hopelessly in love with Jenny, after all. I’m so done with love, Joshua thought as he drifted off to sleep.
“WELL, THIS must be beneath you,” Caleb said to Black Crow, trying to make conversation as the two walked up the trail to the lake. The trail was wet and mushy, thanks to the downpour, and the fresh smell of wet mulch permeated the air.
“What’s beneath me?” Black Crow said, sounding aggravated.
“Well, tracking a cat.”
Black Crow looked taken aback by the comment. “That poor little thing? I’d do anything for him. I was there when that witch threw him to the ground. You could see the complete confusion in his eyes. Just when he was coming to trust people again, Christianity reared its ugly head.”
Caleb was surprised at the accusation. He was certainly used to people being critical of his religion. In fact, no one was more critical of it than he was. But he didn’t see the relevance of Christianity to this situation. He decided to press for clarification, but at the same time he didn’t want to offend Black Crow. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to tolerate seekers, Caleb sensed. “It’s terrible what she did, but I’m not sure it has anything to do with Christianity,” he finally said.
“Of course you wouldn’t, you’re one of those missionaries.” His disdain was obvious.
“I’m a Christian, but I’m here more to learn. Not to teach.”
Black Crow feigned laughter. “Well that’s a new one for me,” he said, sounding aggravated.
Caleb smiled. “I’m hearing that a lot lately.”
But Black Crow evidently was not amused. “So you don’t see what being a Christian has to do with hurting a poor defenseless creature?”
“No, quite the opposite. A Christian would never harm God’s creation like that,” Caleb insisted.
Black Crow slowed his aggressive pace through the woods, finally coming to a complete stop. He shot Caleb an incredulous glance. “Your religion has taught for centuries that animals don’t have souls,” he accused. “They don’t even have an afterlife. They just move, like robots. It’s as though you don’t even grant that they are living things.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Caleb said, embarrassed. But Black Crow was right. Christianity had denied for centuries that animals had souls. And lacking them, there really was no sin in harming an animal. He could see where Black Crow was going with this, and it started to bother him.
“I don’t think it’s complicated at all. When you teach that everything exists to serve the greed of humans, the willful torture of an innocent creature simply carries no harm in it.”
“Christians may teach that, but it’s not what the Bible says,” Caleb replied, preparing to give his own spin on the subject. “I can’t stomach any kind of abuse, and I consider it anti-Christian, whether it’s against humans or any other part of creation.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Black Crow said in his usual gruff demeanor. “I know your Bible.” He started to hike again up the trail, while continuing the debate. “Everyone here on the Rez knows that book. Believe me, we hear it all the time. In Genesis it clearly states that God gave humankind dominion over his creation, does it not?”
“The word dominion has been wrongly translated,” Caleb argued. “In the original Hebrew, the word actually means stewardship. That means we are called to take care of God’s creation, not lord over it, and certainly not abuse it.”
“This is why you can’t argue with Christians,” Black Crow said, visibly frustrated. “You listen to one absolute truth from one Christian, and an entirely contradictory one from another. Maybe you should all get your stories straight before denouncing everyone else’s faith.”
Caleb let Black Crow have the argument. He didn’t know how to counter it anyway. He simply brought things back to where they had started. “So if you think that cat is worthy of you wasting all morning trying to find it, why were you so disappointed that Gentle Eagle asked you to help me do it?”
“Like a typical Christian, you misunderstood even that. I was honored Gentle Eagle trusted me to find the cat. I was disappointed that I had to be with you.”
“Oh, I see,” Caleb said, a bit hurt by the harsh sentiment.
“Don’t worry,” Black Crow said. “You’re starting to grow on me.”
Caleb smiled. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately as well. I’m a honeybee, it seems.”
“What?” Black Crow asked, baffled by the comparison.
“Never mind,” Caleb said. “Let’s just find that poor cat.”
JOSHUA OPENED his eyes and saw something unusual about the rushing river water. It moved faster than it had been prior to his dozing off. It was as though someone had pressed fast-forward on nature. The dark clouds, likewise, hurried across the sky. And the weather had changed. It was warm out all of sudden. He saw that Mokwa and Little Deer both lay fast asleep next to him. He sensed it was about to start pouring again.
Eeeh eeeeeh, he heard a strange squealing noise announce from the dark canopy of trees behind him. He turned, instantly noticing the dark silhouette of a small humanoid figure, standing perfectly still, staring directly at Joshua.
“Help, help,” the dark figure cried. “It’s me, Joshua. Your father.”
Joshua was transfixed by the strange creature. Its voice sounded identical to that of his father, but the dark figure looked nothing like him. It stood only two, maybe three feet tall at best. Unless his father had become a dwarf, this thing was something else entirely, something that could mimic his father’s voice.
“Find me,” it called again. Then it raised up one of its odd, spindly hands and emitted a loud buzzing noise. Joshua saw that its hand had six fingers, with five curled up and one extending forward, pointing to the river. Joshua turned toward the river, trying to make out what the strange creature was pointing to.
He spotted a canoe floating quickly down the river, riding the fast-moving currents, splashing up and down as it was pushed effortlessly by the rushing water. It had no occupants and was at the complete mercy of the river.
“I don’t get it,” Joshua called out to the figure. “What are you showing me?”
There was no answer from the dark silhouette.
Joshua turned back around just in time to catch the creature taking off toward a giant rock embedded in the river. As the creature approached, it walked right through the rock as though it were nothing but a mirage. The strange creature never emerged from the other side.
“Time is running out!” the voice warned, this time coming from inside the rock. The buzzing sound returned, becoming progressively louder. Joshua covered his ears, shielding them from the intense noise.
“A canoe!” Little Deer shouted, loud enough to awaken both Joshua and Mokwa.
The sun was still out, though menacing clouds surrounded it, as though preparing for another deluge.
“Little Deer, you ruined a perfect dream,” Mokwa said as he propped himself up on the log. “It was about Jenny.” He lay back down and closed his eyes again. “Mmmm, Jenny.”
Joshua was a bit more attentive, as he saw the canoe Little Deer was pointing toward wash up on the shore before them. It looked just like the one from his dream. What does it mean? he wondered, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all.
“Bro, I know that look,” Mokwa said as he opened his eyes and gazed at Joshua. “You had a dream, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Joshua said. “And you’re not going to believe it.”
“Oh, do tell,” he said, getting up to give Joshua his full attention.
JOSHUA NEEDED a moment to process his strange dream, but Mokwa was being rather impatient. Joshua couldn’t blame him. Mokwa had confidently led the group through the torrential rain for the past couple of hours based solely on the premise that Joshua would eventually get some kind of sign. Mokwa had put a lot of faith in him, and it was time for Joshua to deliver.
Onwaachige the Dreamer Page 15