Long Snows Moon

by Stacey Darlington

  “I see.”

  “Plus it’s her mineral totem.”

  “Very good, my dear. All of my nagging has paid off since you are studying some of your father’s books.”

  “He knew a lot about Native spirituality for a white man.”

  “He studied hard and learned well. He was accepted into the Buffalo Tribe right before he died, the first white man they ever welcomed.”

  “I know. I wish I remembered him more.”

  “He lives in here,” her mother touched her heart, “and in here,” she touched Jameson’s heart.

  “I know,” Jameson smiled. “I have one of his books under my pillow and it has his picture on the back. I kiss it every night before I go to sleep.”

  “I know, so do I.” Doc Jo Jo hugged her daughter. Jameson noticed that her mother blinked back sudden tears. “Run along and get cleaned up, we don’t want to be out all night. I need my beauty sleep.”

  “You’re already beautiful,” Jameson told her, reaching out and wiping a tear from her cheek.

  Joann Jordan took her daughter’s hands. “You are the most precious thing your father gave me, so wise beyond your years.”

  “You’ll never love another man,” Jameson knew.

  “No I won’t,” her mother agreed. “There will never be another man in my life.”

  “There will never be another man in mine, either,” Jameson said as she bounded up the stairs.

  Doc Jo Jo smiled to herself as she closed her eyes. Jameson felt her mother peer into her future. She heard her sigh.

  She called down to her mother, “Don’t be sad, I will be okay alone, Mom.”

  * * * *

  Jameson refilled their glasses of wine. “As you can see, you made an impression on me.”

  “I was right about you,” Devon smirked. “You are a mind reader as was your mother.”

  “We are seers, or intuitives. It is ironic that I can’t see what is close to me.”

  “What couldn’t you see?”

  “That my mother had suffered with cancer for years.”

  * * * *

  “I can’t believe nothing can be done,” Jameson stated. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before now. I wasted a year away at school that I could have been here taking care of you.”

  “I don’t need taking care of,” her mother shrugged. “And don’t tell me you’re quitting college. No, Ma’am, I won’t hear that.”

  “I’m not going back. I’m not leaving you.” Jameson sobbed. “Why you? You’re so good.”

  “Death is a fickle fate. You can’t wager on it, you will always lose. You know no one gets out alive. Life comes with a death sentence.”

  “Mom, stop it. No Doc Jo Jo wisdomism is going to work this time, so forget it. Don’t even try to make this okay.”

  Joann Jordan scooped up her daughter. “I wanted to tell you, but I knew the truth would be revealed when the time was right,” her mother soothed. “I knew you’d see.”

  Jameson had seen when they closed up shop for the night. She watched Doc Jo Jo work on the nightly receipts. Jameson had an uneasy feeling. The shadows from her mother’s desk lamp were long and menacing. The air in the store was heavy and too sweet from incense and oils. She left the store by way of the kitchen, grabbed her cigarettes, and stepped out into the night.

  That was when she noticed the owl perched on the greenhouse roof. It stared at her with its bored, hooded eyes. The owl with its power to extract secrets, the bringer of prophesies. Jameson had seen the owl a few times over the course of the years as it was her mother’s totem, but it had been years since it was so close to the house and longer since it returned Jameson’s curious gaze.

  It glowered at Jameson with its cynical eyes, watching her. Even inside, Jameson tried to shake the owl’s deliberate, judicious look. She peered out the kitchen window and saw the owl still watching.

  Jameson decided she would ask her mother what it meant. She found her in the store, still seated at her small and cluttered desk. Approaching her Jameson observed the way her mother’s face looked by the light of the desk lamp. Newly infused with owl energy Jameson was able to see. The mirth left her mother’s eyes and worry turned her happy mouth downward. The ‘intellect’ furrow between her brows deepened and the light in her eyes was not as bright.

  The cancer was terminal as was Jameson’s sorrow.

  “I can’t lose you,” Jameson sobbed.

  “Dry your eyes, my dear. Let us celebrate life today. You get us a bottle of wine. I have a nice Chardonnay in the fridge.”

  “What’s going to happen?” Jameson asked.

  “You’ll finish college, of course, and I’ve put some money aside for you.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Jameson blurted.

  “I’m not doing any radiation treatments, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t believe in it, you know that.”

  “What do you believe in,” Jameson screamed, “this bullshit?” She grabbed a package of dried herbs and tore it open, littering the floor. “How about this, maybe this can cure you.” Jameson crashed a bottle of Doc Jo Jo’s hand bottled ointment on the ground.

  Berry began to bark, agitated by Jameson’s rare temper.

  Jameson dropped to her knees and hugged her dog. “Sorry, Berry, sshh, it’s all right. Nobody is upset. Where are your beautiful babies?”

  Berry yowled and the two remaining pups crawled out from under the shelf where Doc Jo Jo displayed her homemade beef jerky.

  “That reminds me, I have some people coming tonight for one of the pups,” Doc Jo Jo said. She tore off three pieces of jerky and fed one to each of the puppies and the big piece to Berry.

  Two puppies remained the first-born, and the runt.

  Jameson cuddled the puppies. “I wonder who is leaving tonight. I’ll bet it’s you,” she cooed to Long Snows Moon. “If you’re not sold tonight I’m keeping you for myself.”

  Her mother gave her a chiding look. “You can’t even keep Berry at the dorm, let alone another.”

  “I’m not going back,” Jameson stated. “I’m staying here with you.”

  Joann Jordan looked at her child, now a woman, and laughed for the first time in a long time.

  “You’re not going back to school? What do you plan to do with your life?”

  “I’ll run the store,” Jameson stated.

  “All by yourself?”

  “How hard can it be? I have been working here all my life. Half of the inventory comes from these.” She waved her hands in front of Doc Jo Jo’s face.

  “What about your education?”

  “As long as I have my five senses I will never stop learning.”

  “Six,” Joann Jordan corrected her.

  “Right,” Jameson nodded.

  “You are telling me when I cross over you are going to stay here in a place that has caused you endless humiliation?” Doc Jo Jo asked.

  “When I was a kid in school I was embarrassed that I lived in a tepee shaped store, but now I don’t give a damn. This place is the final detail left of my father, a place he created with his own hands.”

  Doc Jo Jo laughed, reminiscing, “We lived in an actual tent while we built this place, right out there where the greenhouse is. You know, you were conceived in that very tent.”

  “In that tent, yes, I know that,” Jameson rolled her eyes. “Spare me the details and don’t try to detour. I have to run the store. Who better than me to carry on your work? Who else is going to heal the weak and infirm in four states simultaneously?”

  Doc Jo Jo studied her daughter for a dramatic moment, searched her eyes for truth and her manner for sincerity.

  “I mean it, Mom I’m not going back to school. I’m not leaving you,” Jameson declared.

  “Very well, you do have a lot to learn and not a lot of time to do it,” Doc Jo Jo conceded, going to the kitchen and getting the wine from the fridge. “Would you grab the wineglasses,
please? And a butter knife.”

  “How much time do you have?” Jameson asked, removing the glasses with a shaking hand.

  Doc Jo Jo shrugged and sat at the table. “Two weeks, two months, two years, be quiet now, it is lesson time.”

  Jameson was obedient. She slid into the chair at the wide wooden table in the center of the kitchen. She waited for her mother’s instructions as she had as a child. She observed her mother remove the cork using the butter knife.

  “That’s cool,” Jameson said. “But, we do have a corkscrew, you know.”

  “I know,” Doc Jo Jo explained. “The medicine I practice is much like the manner in which I opened this wine. It may be rustic and elementary, but it works. That is the premise of the things you call bullshit, my herbs, my teas.”

  “I didn’t mean that, I was upset.”

  Doc Jo Jo held up her hand. “I know why you said it, but I know that on some level you also believe it. In time, your skepticism will fade.” Doc Jo Jo poured them each a glass of wine. She sipped hers.

  “We are from the earth and to the earth we return,” she toasted, raising her glass. “It’s all the emotional stuff that binds us to our mortal bodies.”

  “I understand your beliefs, and I share them for the most part, but why won’t you at least try to heal yourself? It is your life’s work. Use your curing crosses, or whatever you have in your medicine woman arsenal. I don’t understand why you’re giving up.”

  Jameson slumped in the chair across the table from her mother and gulped her wine.

  “I’m not giving up, that’s the part you don’t understand.”

  “Explain it, please.”

  “My spirit is alive and well, but my body is tired. My case is extreme, and to be honest, I no longer have the mental fortitude to cure myself even if I did have the time, which I do not. I have come to terms with the method of my death and in this knowledge is solace. I am tired. I have done good work here. I made a wonderful daughter and I’ve helped many people.” She shrugged. “You can’t live forever.”

  The tears rolled down Jameson’s face. “I can’t take this,” she sobbed.

  “You are dreading the loss right now instead of relishing the moment.”

  “Relishing what? The moment my mother tells me she is dying?”

  “The moment we are in right now. It holds the lucid, prevailing knowledge of us again meeting. I promise you that. Remember this table, this wine, and these tears. Remember me when we meet again.” Doc Jo Jo’s eyes filled with tears.

  Jameson got up and hugged her mother. “Don’t fear, my blessed mother, I’ll see you through to the other side.”

  Doc Jo Jo returned the hug. “Now that’s what I needed to hear, my child.”

  The bell above the door jingled and they released one another.

  “I love you, Mom,” Jameson said.

  “Me too.”

  “I’m taking Berry for a walk. I will be back when they’re gone. I hope they don’t take Long Snows Moon, I want her.”

  “They have the choice. They drove a long way for their new pet. Let them at least have an option.”

  “I guess,” Jameson said. She whistled and Berry came tramping into the kitchen. Jameson snatched her leash from its hook by the back door.

  “Jameson,” her mother said. “I have been sick for a long time. I managed to keep my cancer in remission for ten years, but my hall pass has expired. I want you to know that Joann Jordan doesn’t go down without a fight.”

  “What are you saying?” Jameson asked in awe. “You found a cure for cancer?”

  Doc Jo Jo’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “A provisional reprieve,” she smiled and left the kitchen, greeting her customers.

  They burst into Elk’s Pass Sundries like a couple of schoolgirls ditching class. Claire and Analise entered the store delirious from their weekend skiing and intoxicated by one another. Jameson recognized them immediately.

  “This place,” Analise exclaimed, “it’s as charming as I remembered.”

  “Welcome to Elk's Pass Sundries,” Doc said as she and Jameson emerged from the kitchen.

  “Hello there, we are here to buy the puppy for my daughter.”

  “I've been expecting you,” Doc said. “Let me round up the pups.”

  Jameson stomped upstairs as she glowered at the women.

  “Look, Claire, this painting is magnificent. I have to get it for Devon.” She rushed to huge canvas on an easel by the west windows. “It’s marvelous.”

  “Isn’t it?” Doc Jo Jo agreed. “My daughter painted it. She finished it yesterday.”

  “Is it for sale?”

  “Everything’s for sale at Elk’s Pass Sundries.”

  “Is it a wolf?” Claire asked, joining Analise at the easel.

  “It is Shawnodese,” Doc Jo Jo said.

  “It’s good.” Claire admired it over the rim of her eyeglasses. “Does she study?”

  Doc Jo Jo sighed. “We’ll see.”

  “Oh, Claire, there they are,” Analise cried as she spied the puppies peeking from behind the counter. “Look at the white one. Is it a girl?”

  “They’re both female,” Doc Jo Jo told her.

  “We have to get Devon this one, don’t you think, Claire?” Analise asked, scooping up Long Snows Moon. “Or this little black one with the blue eyes. It would match Devon's eyes and hair.”

  “Accessorizing with an animal? Delightful!” Claire laughed.

  Jameson watched them from the loft. “They aren't accessories.”

  Claire wrinkled her nose at Jameson. “You're right. Get her the white one, Analise. She went off to the nether of the store and called out, “Bubble gum soda!”

  “I want one!” Analise shouted. “We’ll take this puppy, and the painting please.”

  “I’ll get the papers together.” Doc Jo Jo rummaged through her desk drawer.

  “How much is the painting?” Analise asked.

  “What is it worth to you?” Doc Jo Jo asked.

  “Oh, I couldn’t say,” Analise faltered. “It is so lovely and unusual. Besides, how could I put a price on your daughter’s work?”

  Jameson studied Analise as she descended the stairs to defend her art, remembering their first meeting. Jameson knew their lives would connect once more as they passed each other on the wheel.

  The paint was barely dry and wasn't even framed yet. She'd painted it for Devon and for her it would be free. Not for them.

  “The painting is fifteen hundred dollars,” she announced.

  “What?” Claire asked. “That’s rather steep for this rudimentary level.”

  “Claire!” Analise said.

  “Well, it’s true. Look at the color palette. It’s absurd. Moreover, what is it? A wolf … a dog? What?”

  “Art is subjective and opinions are ego driven vomit,” Jameson said, as she stood beside her painting.

  Analise laughed and poked Claire. “Did you hear that? Oh, that was fabulous. I will have to remember that.”

  A wise grin tugged at Doc Jo Jo’s mouth. Jameson knew her mother was close to laughing. They both knew that Claire walked without purpose through her life. She looked but did not see.

  “The painting is fifteen hundred dollars. Take it or leave it,” Jameson retorted. “I want a few minutes alone with the puppy before you take her.” She snatched Long Snows Moon from Analise.

  Jameson knew Doc Jo Jo felt no reason to apologize for her daughter’s rare display of rudeness. She had just received some terrible news.

  Doc Jo Jo shrugged at Analise. “It’s her painting.”

  “That’s fine, it’s worth it.”

  “And the dog? How much is the little beast?” Claire asked.

  “Two thousand,” Jameson said.

  “I guess we’re paying for her art lessons,” Claire retorted as she placed the soda bottles by the register.

  “Claire, please,” Analise scowled.

  “I’ll throw in the drinks for free,” Doc Jo Jo said w
ith a wink. “Here you go. The pedigree papers, a pamphlet I have personally created on the care and maintenance of your new puppy, as well as some information on the wolf hybrid. They are a rare and wonderful breed, if not an exercise in patience. They require a firm hand, so if you find, for any reason, you are unable to manage or care for this animal I would appreciate if you would bring her back.”

  “For a full refund?” Claire asked.

  “Sure,” Doc Jo Jo chuckled.

  Jameson whispered to the puppy, “Keep her safe and bring her home.”

  Long Snows Moon licked her nose.

  “I hope your daughter loves this animal. She is special.” She handed her back to Analise.

  “She never stopped talking about you,” Analise whispered as she cuddled the pup. “You have grown into a beauty.” She cast a poignant glance at the locket Jameson wore.

  “Will you tell her I said hello and I painted it for her?”

  Analise shook her head. “No, I'm sorry, I can't tell her, she is on a different path. I think hearing that will make her falter. She must stay on course. She must procreate our family. This puppy is part of her wedding dowry.” She held Moon close as she backed away, her face a mask of regret. “I'm sorry.”

  Dowry or bribe? Her lie felt like a slap. Jameson rushed upstairs to the safety of her loft to hide her pain and rage.

  Her eyes went black as she watched Claire cart the enormous canvas. Doc Jo Jo scurried to open the door.

  Claire howled, not unlike a wolf. Standing on the deck before them was a wolf. Claire backed away and stumbled over her own feet. Her ass hit the ground with a thud and the painting fell on top of her.

  “Make it go away!” Claire screamed.

  Doc Jo Jo moved the painting and helped her up. “It's okay,” Doc Jo Jo kicked the door closed and cast Jameson a chiding look.

  Jameson shrugged innocently.

  “Come with me, you skinned your elbow. Let me apply some cream.”

  Doc Jo Jo led Claire through the store into the kitchen. Jameson heard Claire wail when Doc applied the balm. Served her right. She needed to learn respect.

  “Analise! Where are you?” Claire hollered.

  Analise was on the porch, kneeling next to Two Stars, running her fingers through his fur as if it were made of mink.