[2014] Wildwood Shadows

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[2014] Wildwood Shadows Page 15

by Scott McElhaney


  I immediately searched the surrounding area for some dried wood. In an environment where man hadn’t staked his claim and started developing it, fallen trees, limbs, and branches were commonplace and easy to locate. No park rangers came around to clean up, so every time a tree died or was damaged by the weather, it forever stayed where it fell. Nature was left to send in the termites and the bugs, or in some cases, the grass, vines, and weeds simply covered it all up. I’d already discovered that some small hills were really just buried trees covered by nature.

  I returned to our little campsite to discover that Wildwood had laid out one of the fur blankets from the backpack. This would, I assumed, serve as our bed for the night. I laid out some wood, building a nice little campfire. She recommended I grab some more wood and some leaves so we could keep the fire going all night. When I gave her a look of confusion, she explained that the fire and the smoke would keep the animals and some of the insects away.

  It didn’t take me long to return with a couple nice limbs. She already had a small fire started and asked me to dump the dried leaves on it before the fire burned out. It grew to self-sustaining a few minutes later. We snapped the limbs into more manageable portions and set them alongside the fire so we could add it when needed.

  The sun had finally set and our fire was going beautifully strong. We sat there, enjoying each other’s company and watching the fire. I was feeling jumpy tonight which started with the hoot of an owl nearby. The first time it called out, I grabbed the shotgun and chambered a round. Wildwood laughed at me and reminded me that owls didn’t eat people. I explained that I thought it was something larger, but she continued to poke fun at my nerves. She was in a playful mood as we both were probably exhausted, so she started giving me goofy Indian names.

  “How about Jumpy Thunder?” she said, “Or Owl Hunter.”

  “No, I need a good Indian name,” I laughed, “And why ‘Jumpy Thunder’?”

  “Well,” she seemed to think on it for a moment, “We all called you Thunder when we heard about your thunder bow from Corn Stalk. So that was the first name you were secretly christened with. And as far as ‘Jumpy’, do you need to really ask?”

  I laughed again, pushing her with my shoulder, “That owl was loud! I never heard such a thing before.”

  “Well, had you shot it, we could have called you Owl Hunter,” she said, “And that wouldn’t be a good name, by the way. You never kill an owl. They announce when the good spirits are nearby.”

  “So, if you introduced me as Owl Hunter, everyone would pretty much leave me alone,” I said.

  “Exactly. So if we eventually find this village and there are many young and available women among the tribe, I will tell them that this is your name,” she said.

  “Really!” I pushed her and then she pushed back, “You think I’d ever find someone I wanted in this world more than you?”

  “Hey, Indian women are beautiful,” she said, “You don’t know what you’re getting into by officially becoming Shawnee.”

  “But what if you’re more than just beautiful?” I asked, “What if I just love everything about you?”

  “Well then, I guess that would mean that maybe we could give you a good Indian name,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

  “What about your name? How did you get the name Wildwood Shadows?”

  She grabbed a branch and added it to the fire. The nearby owl offered its approval with a hoot.

  “I wanted to be a hunter ever since I was real young. I was probably just a girl of five summers when I became adept at sinking my arrow into my targets,” she said, drawing her legs up, “But as I told you, no one really wanted to accept the idea of a huntress even though it wasn’t unheard of. My mom continued to try to teach me all about farming and how to locate and identify herbs all around us. I listened and learned from her, but all the while, I went out with my bow and arrow and brought home rabbits and squirrels,

  “It was around harvest time… autumn of course, when I snuck out and followed a hunting party into the woods. Again, I was very young. But since I knew I wasn’t allowed to go out with them, I remained hidden. I was, and am, great at keeping myself hidden if I don’t want to be seen. I could follow you through the woods all day and you’d never know I was there.”

  I nodded, seeing the pride in her face. She was very confident in her abilities and I had seen enough to know she was probably very accurate in her self-assessment.

  “Anyway, it was during that hunting trip that a giant buck had gotten the best of them. Someone had released an arrow and hit the thing in the neck. It was a strong hit, so the arrow went all the way through, but it didn’t hit anything vital. That buck turned on them and then charged. Someone else shot it dead on, right at the base of its throat, but again, that didn’t do anything other than probably hinder its breathing and future eating,

  “So here I was, hiding in the shadows as I watched the most frightening hunting experience of my life. This buck had a rack of antlers on its head that could have shredded any man in its path. Imagine thirty sharp knives perched on the head of an enormous deer. The hunting party never even saw me as they passed me by running for their lives. At this point, I realized that I was about to die. I had no choice but to kill the animal or be killed. To my pleasant surprise, the buck hadn’t seen me at all as he gave chase. Just as I drew the arrow back and aimed it, the buck was passing me by and it was merely a breath away from shredding one of the elder hunters. I released my arrow and it was right on target. That buck didn’t get a single moment to ponder what had happened because my arrow had cleanly pierced its heart. It crashed to the ground, much to the surprise of all the other hunters,

  “A moment later, they returned and found one of my small hawk-feather arrows in the side of the beast. That’s when they finally looked to the shadows and saw me standing there shaking. I was still trying to figure out why I wasn’t dead. To them, I was a miniature heroine, but to me, I was just someone frightened enough to fight instead of dying. When we all returned to the village, they told the story to everyone. It was told and retold a hundred times and through it all, I was a ghost who knew how to use the long shadows of forest, or the wildwood, to conceal myself. I got that name because the story got more and more amazing as it was retold, so even now, I became the girl who could follow a hunting party for days without being discovered in the wildwood shadows. In reality, I think I only followed them for maybe half a day, but I guess it was still amazing in their eyes.”

  “Well, that was amazing!” I said, truly awed by her story, “And I’ve only known you for a short while and I don’t think you’ve ever missed what you were aiming for. Remember the bobcat?”

  She turned to me and offered the kind of smile you give a child who doesn’t really understand something.

  “Of course I remember the bobcat. But my name isn’t about the accuracy of my arrows or even my skills as a hunter. My name speaks of the fact that I am good at not being seen. I’ve always been good at not being seen and even up until we left the village, I tried to always remain in the shadows. I didn’t want people to notice me because when that happened, I lost the advantage. I always had to have the advantage.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  I found a small stick near my feet that was no wider than my pinky. I poked it into the fire, letting the flames lick the end of it until it caught fire. I then held it near me, allowing it to burn like a sideways candle.

  “I didn’t want to be a woman who eventually belonged to a man one day. That’s all that it seemed I was being groomed for. All of my childhood was wrapped around being good with animal hides and food preparation. It was all about preparing me to take care of children. I learned all about how to bandage a wound or what broths would calm a cough or a sore throat. And all the while, it was being decided who I would love one day,” she said, watching my stick as it slowly burned, “I was being led along in a life I didn’t want. My only escape was to hide in the shadows.”

/>   “That makes sense to me,” I said, “It doesn’t sound like you were like the other girls anyway and no one seemed to take notice of that.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking all my life,” she said; a bit of anger rising up in her tone, “Even when I earned my name, it was because I saved a bunch of hunters with my bow and arrow. I was a huntress back then and I’ve always been one! Why didn’t they ever listen? Why didn’t they listen about Rain Walker? And now I’m the one who gets banished?”

  I could see tears forming in her eyes now. I put my arm around her and drew her to me. I tossed the stick into the fire and then held her. It truly was unfair. I imagined what it would be like for my mother to kick me out of the house and tell me that I was basically dead to her. If I were as strong as Wildwood, I’d probably be able to hide my hurt for a little while, but eventually it would come out.

  “Time Traveler,” she muttered.

  “What?” I asked, confused by her choice of modern words.

  “That should be your Shawnee name. You are a man who doesn’t travel from far lands, but instead, you travel from far times,” she said.

  I had to think about that for a moment. The name or the term “time traveler” was so boring and basic to a world who had movies like “Back to the Future” or “The Time Machine”. To call someone by the name of Time Traveler would almost sound corny in my world, but in hers, it was beyond curious. Such a concept would invoke questions and even spark the imagination of those who could grasp such an idea. Time Traveler was a name no one else would have and even if they did, it wouldn’t make sense to these people.

  “I like it,” I said, “It’s a name that accurately defines me. Besides, Maddox is my middle name and I don’t really like that. Especially since I’ve been using it to hide my identity for my father’s purposes.”

  “You don’t like Maddox? I’m sorry,” she said, pulling out of my embrace.

  “I never told you or anyone else, so there’s nothing wrong with you using that. My name is really Charlie, but I’d rather have an Indian name if I’m going to be living as a Shawnee from now on.”

  “Then from now on, you are Time Traveler,” she said.

  I pulled her to me again and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I like it,” I said, “And as long as you are mine, you are free to decide whatever you want in life. No one is going to make decisions for you anymore. Besides, I like the fact that you are an amazing huntress because that means I’ll never go hungry.”

  “See? Now is it any wonder that I want no one else in this life except for you?” she said, “You have the exact mindset of the man I always wanted. And all my life, I thought I’d never find that man.”

  “Well here I am and I’m all yours,” I said with a chuckle.

  She leaned into me, forcing me down onto the fur blanket beneath her. Her lips covered mine as her hand reached to tug my shirt off. I was never going to grow tired of this woman.

  Hiini

  Sometime during the night, the air grew cooler and one of us grabbed the other animal hide and covered us both up. I was known for doing many things at night without realizing it, so it could very well have been me. Sleepwalking and sleep talking were always a possibility. In this case, it may have been sleep-covering.

  We woke early in the morning and this time I blamed the birds. There had to be a hundred birds surrounding us, all of them singing, chirping, tweeting, and squealing at the same time. How did people in ancient times sleep until noon if they so decided? I knew that’s what I wanted at the moment. By the looks of the sun barely creeping over the horizon, I’d be lucky if it was even seven o’clock.

  Wildwood was in her usual energized mode. She was packing things up before I even forced myself into the sitting position. The fire was already nothing but ash. I was now hungry and thirsty, but I had already discovered that breakfast didn’t seem to be part of this world. I dragged myself to the creek and drank a few cupped handfuls of water. Then I got dressed and loaded myself up with all the stuff I carried each day.

  “Someone looks angry this morning,” Wildwood prodded.

  “I am angry,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes, “I’m angry at all that noise!”

  I pointed toward the trees where most of the bird sounds were coming from. They continued on in their morning concert.

  “Seriously! Do they need to be that noisy before the sun rises?” I asked a little more curtly than I intended.

  She looked at me and laughed. Then she turned around and started up the hill in the direction we would be headed today.

  “For real! Don’t you ever want to sleep all the way until the sun is high in the sky?” I asked.

  “No! Imagine how much time would have been wasted. We’re going to get less and less daylight as winter heads our way,” she said, “By the time the sun is high in the sky, I hope to be at the lakes already.”

  I groaned, wondering how someone could be so vibrant first thing in the morning. I would have never thought that a world without alarm clocks, schools, or timecards would find a way to draw people out of bed in the early morning.

  “You need to learn to not be so bitter in the morning. Otherwise I’m going to avoid you until midday,” she said.

  “I’ll work on it,” I replied.

  As the sun made its way up the morning sky, we put more distance between us and my father. Most of the morning had been spent navigating dense forests again, much like the land surrounding the other village. It was around midday when we discovered a portion of farmed land. The corn grew in neat rows, encompassing an area about four times the size of my yard back home.

  Wildwood broke off an ear of corn and handed it to me. She then broke off one for herself. I had figured we were going to go somewhere and cook it, but then she shucked the ear and started eating it raw. I was so hungry that I didn’t even question what she was doing. I did the same thing and it was delicious, sweet, and crunchy. We each ate two more ears a piece and then hid the cobs in the brush nearby.

  “Does this mean there is a village nearby?” I asked.

  “It might not be close,” she said, “We plant our food anywhere that the sunlight is best. Sometimes that can be as far as a day’s walk from the village. Oftentimes, we have our food growing in several places at the same time.”

  After our lunch, I relieved myself in the woods and then we continued onward toward the lakes. It couldn’t have been an hour later before we discovered the first of the many Portage Lakes. It was a large lake that initially looked to be oval in shape, but then looking past an overhanging tree, we saw that it was connected to another large lake spanning the horizon to the right. The dangling branches of the angled tree were partially covering an inlet of about ten meters in width.

  The lake and the surrounding area showed no signs of human life. There wasn’t so much as a hunter or a fisherman nearby. Nor were there any of the longhouses or those dome-shaped houses. Wildwood must have known what I was thinking, so she pointed to the sky at the right. I saw a bird with a wide wingspan circling over the tree tops. I said as much, but then she told me I was looking in the wrong area. That’s when I saw just a thin wisp of smoke rising.

  “How did you even see that?” I asked.

  “When searching for people, always scan the skies for smoke,” she said.

  “How far would you say that is?” I asked.

  “I’d guess they are living on that other lake that we can’t fully see. If you look at the edge of the forest over there, you’ll also see a path leading into the woods,” she said, pointing toward a spot where grass didn’t grow.

  “You would make for a deadly warrior in my world,” I said, “It’s like you could track your enemy, hide in the shadows, and kill them at your leisure. In my world, that’s called a SEAL team sniper.”

  “Well, I’m definitely going to be a warrior one day if the need arises,” she said, “Though honestly I hope it never does.”

  We dropped down the hill that led to the l
ake. The high grass went all the way to the water’s edge, offering no beach of gravel or sand for easy travel. Moments later, we found a trail of trampled grass and dry earth. Wildwood stopped suddenly and looked to the woods up ahead. I stopped beside her trying to see what she was looking at.

  She called something out in the Shawnee language. I looked closer at the woods, trying to see who it was that she was talking to. She said several more words and then an Indian seemed to appear suddenly from the shadows. Two others came into view, all young men of similar age to the two of us. Their clothing was very similar to those of our village. There were no giant feathery head-dresses or war paint as I’d always expected to see thanks to television. These were just shirtless young men with pants made of animal hide and necklaces made from various items.

  One called something to us and then another spoke several sentences as a follow-up. The words seemed like questions to me rather than any sort of challenge. Wildwood replied with a long speech. One of the Indians gestured for us to follow him. We proceeded on toward the path into the woods. As beautiful as Wildwood was, I was grateful to see that all eyes were on me instead of on her. I knew it had something to do with my jeans or my white skin and blue eyes, but I’d prefer to be the subject of their curiosity over their desire for my lovely wife.

  Wiikano

  We were led silently through the woods along a winding trail that seemed like a mile long. Then, before I realized where we’d ended up, we found ourselves faced with a whole village hidden beneath the forest canopy. I had been expecting to leave the woods before we came across any homes. Instead, we were still surrounded by forest on all sides when we came upon several of the dome-like structures.

  A campfire was burning in front of one of the houses in spite of the fact that it was hot outside and still midday. No one was cooking on it, so I didn’t understand the purpose. The village seemed deserted for the most part with the exception of some kids and an older woman. The kids didn’t make any effort to hide their curiosity about me as their eyes followed me the whole way. The older woman merely spoke a few words to the guys who led us along and then motioned toward the bark-encased hut to her right.

 

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