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Authors: Janet Cooper

BOOK: Another Chance
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Happy to get her foot out of the swamp her loose lips had dug for her, she said, "Yes
. Senseless actions are reprehensible regardless of who is responsible."

"My daughter is right," Benjamin said
. "All violence is appalling."

White Owl nodded
then turned toward the pyramid. "Silver Wolf, I see you have selected an oak. You chose well," White Owl said, his gaze never straying from the grave.

"I am pleased that you approve
." Luke glanced at Sarah, then Benjamin. "Beginning tomorrow, I will strip the bark and begin carving the deeds of my father on the pole."

A small boy careened into Luke's legs
. His actions reminded Sarah of her neighbor's boy and her real life. When would she see her friends again? A small lump filled her throat.

"
NoX han,
" the lad said.

Luke took the child's hand
. "We have guests. You must speak English."

The child frowned
.

"May I p
resent my son, Little Turtle?" Luke made the introductions.

Her heart dropped as disappointment overwhelmed her
. "And thy wife?" she asked, almost fearing the answer.

He glanced at the heavens
. "With the stars."

"I am sorry
."
How terrible to have lost a wife and a father,
she thought.

"It was a long time ago
." Luke said, in the expressionless tone he used so often.

Luke fit her image of the stoic Indian
.
Did he ever relax and let his emotions show? she wondered. Had his marriage been a political one? Did the Lenape do that? Or had he married for love?

She glanced at White Owl and saw tears running down his face
. The old man made no effort to wipe them away, yet Luke's eyes remained dry. If his grandfather showed his emotion, why didn't Luke?

"
NoX han
, father?" Little Turtle asked. His small face scrunched up with worry.

"Yes, my son?" Luke replied solemnly
.

"Why is
KitanitohunX'han
crying?"

Hunkering down, Luke took his son's hands and looked directly into the boy's rich, bark-colored eyes
. "As you know, your grandfather was murdered by soldiers and is buried beneath these stones. Great-grandfather is showing his grief. Lenape men may show their emotion."

Tears formed and trickled down the child's face
. He threw his slender arms around his father's neck and sobbed. Luke lifted Little Turtle and held him securely in his arms.

Sarah
wondered if seeing his great-grandfather cry and hearing his father's words may have given the boy permission to release the emotions building inside. To her, the boy sounded as if a huge dam of emotion had ruptured.

The compassion and love Luke showed to his son contrasted sharply with the impassive face
Sarah had previously seen and come to expect from this Lenape.

Luke rubbed the lad's back in a gentle, calming fashion, turning away slightly from the burial mound
. "
XhanXhan's
heart will soon begin its journey to the sky. In less than half a moon cycle, it will soar to the heavens." Luke pointed to the sky where, as yet, no stars shone. Little Turtle glanced up. "On clear nights, you will see him shining above us. Then he will help to light our way at night and will keep us safe."

The story Luke told pleased
Sarah. Thoughts of her parents’ death and Sarah's fear of never seeing them again resurfaced.
How much more comforting to look into the dark heavens and see a loved one lighting up the night sky.
She wished someone had narrated a similar tale to her as a child.

While he spoke, Luke had looked at
Sarah. Had she imagined it, or had he silently called out to her? Did he long to have someone to share his grief, to help him, to comfort him? She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him against her breast. Instead, she sent her prayers. Again, a mask covered his face. Sarah chided herself for conjuring such a fantasy.

Silver Wolf
had stared at her. He sensed her compassion, her desire to help. Why should she understand? He closed his eyes and recalled his wife's image, asking her to help him with their son. Even as he did, he realized that when Clear Water was alive, she would never have thought he needed her support.

Between his sobs, Little Turtle asked, "Why is grandfather buried here and not in the graveyard with my mother?"

His great-grandfather took the boy in his arms. "The blood of his body has been spilled here. He will remain with it."

Wolf looked at the last two members of his family
, the oldest and the youngest. The line was incomplete. It had been broken, and so had their hearts. He wanted to hold his remaining family tight against him, but with the whites looking on, he restrained himself. Only retribution, paid in blood by those responsible, would salve this grief.

"The British have always been our enemies
."  White Owl spat out the words as he lowered Little Turtle. "They have oppressed us consistently, stolen our lands, and killed many of our people." Bitterness showed as his ebony eyes flashed with anger and his jaw tightened. "Now, they have murdered the last of my children. Only vengeance will bring peace to our land."

"And I shall be your instrument," Wolf said
.

Although he tried to hide his disapproval,
Sarah sensed Benjamin tensing beside her.
Would he speak out?
She studied him closely. His lips remained closed, but he stepped back as if to distance himself from the violence being planned.

White Owl wrenched the fringe off his buckskin jacket and screamed aloud
. Next, he bent, picking up a piece of charcoal and began streaking his face. When he had finished, he began to paint the boy. "The mask I place on you is to show the sorrow that we experience at the death of one we love, but whose name we do not speak."

Wolf found a charred chunk of wood a
nd proceeded to recover the boy’s neck and arms.

"We will wear black on our skin while we grieve
. In less than half a moon cycle, Little Turtle, your
XhanXhan
becomes one with the lights in the sky. Although we will no longer mark our bodies, our souls wear black until he can be avenged."

All during this time,
Sarah had stood off to the side. Perhaps in their grief, Luke and White Owl had forgotten their guests, until she saw Luke's face and realized he wanted her to witness what was happening. Earlier, she had sensed his reluctance, yet now his willingness to allow her to observe his rituals pleased her. He was a very difficult man to understand. She looked at the fresh black imprint on his face, and realized what she had thought earlier was dirt was a sign of mourning.

White Owl faced Luke
. "Did you give each of our people a gift of remembrance?"

"I chose to wait until you returned," he replied
.

The older man nodded
. "We will dispense them at the feast.” Turning toward Benjamin and Sarah, he added, "If you will excuse me, I must prepare for our ceremony."

"Of course,"
Sarah said.

Benjamin nodded
.

The old Lenape
walked away.

"If thou will show me where I am staying," Benjamin said, "I should like to wash up before eating
."

"Little Turtle, will you take the Stones to their rooms?" Luke asked
. "While you are there, please ask Bowl-Woman to help you change."

"I can do that myself," the child said, in a very proud voice
.

"Yes, you can, but she will help
."

"Might I stay here?"
Sarah replied. Luke looked at her. "Unless thou prefers otherwise," she continued quietly.

"It matters not to me," Luke said
. Turning to his son, he said, "Please take Mr. Stone. Please ask Bowl-Woman for a shirt for me and have her bring the gifts." He leaned closer and whispered to his son.

The boy frowned at
Sarah then nodded to his father. 

As Benjamin and Little Turtle walked away,
Sarah thought
, For some reason, that child doesn't like me. How strange. Usually, I get along well with kids, especially boys.
She shrugged.

"Is anything wrong?" Luke asked
.

"No
." She pushed her concern aside, but couldn't resist asking, "Why did thou shave thy head?"

"Lenape braves normally wear their hair long
. When we go on the war path, we leave only a small lock of hair on the crown of our heads."

The word warpath had startled
Sarah, but she tried not to show her inner battle. She must have failed because he added, "By leaving only a tuft of hair on top my enemy has less to grab." His face showed little emotion, but his eyes appeared to gleam.

She shivered at his words
. "Thy people are going on the war path?"

CHAPTER FOUR

 

"We will destroy the soldiers who raided, murdered and violated our people and our land," he said, his voice a deadly calm
.

The sky had darkened as if joining the Lenape in their sorrow
.
Would rain come or would just the mantle of heavy, gray clouds cover the land?
she wondered. Sarah thoughts shook her. She broke her gaze and stared at the burial mound. Torches formed a boundary at the rear of the area and lit up the monument. An old woman approached. A closed cape-like garment hung to her waist. Shells and small glass beads decorated the front and embroidered borders graced the hem. From her waist to her knees, she had wrapped a buckskin skirt. She held it in place with a wampum belt. Beneath this, she wore leggings, also trimmed with embroidery. On her ankles and wrists, tiny silver bells dangled and rang softly as she walked. Her long hair, streaked with gray, had been pulled back, then rolled up and secured with a net bag of some type. She carried a basket filled with corn, squash, and pumpkin that she placed in front of the long oak log. When she had arranged the vegetables to suit her, she sat, faced the monument and wailed.

Sarah
jumped. The mournful sound broke the silence that had surrounded the grave.

"My people tear their clothes, blacken their faces and cry as they lament the dead," Luke said, a testiness in his tone
.

"They did that in the Bible,"
Sarah stated nonchalantly, for he had come full circle, back to the resentment she'd earlier sensed and heard. She intended to let him know, in a gentle manner, that the rites of his people intrigued, but did not appall her.

He glanced at her
.

She smiled encouragingly
.

"The food we place before the monument will help nourish the spirit-essence as it prepares for the long journey to the sky
." Luke kept his attention focused on Sarah as if waiting for her to show her revulsion at this custom.

"What a wonderful gift," she said
with sincerity.

His features softened
. "To our people, it is.

Sarah
observed the old woman once more.

Wolf looked at her from the corner of his eye
.
She sounded sincere,
he thought. Still, what did she really think about his people's burial rites? Was the ceremony offending her white beliefs? From her actions, he thought not, but what did her feelings mattered to him. He did worry her response might offend his grandfather. So far, he admitted, she had behaved well for an outsider.

While they spoke, the woman’s chanting increased in volume
. Her voice sealed the early evening activities with sadness and melancholy. Soon, other men, women and children appeared, all dressed in a similar fashion. They dropped rush mats on the ground, forming an open circle. The burial monument became one segment, and the people completed the ring. In the center, a large fire burned giving light to the inside enclosure.

Benjamin and Little Turtle returned during this time
. The boy handed a buckskin shirt trimmed with beads and small shells to Luke. When he slipped it on, Sarah felt a sense of disappointment. He glanced at her. She flushed, sensing he had read her mind. Luke led them to cushions of woven straw that directly faced the gravel mound. He placed Benjamin on the far left and Sarah next to him. The small boy squatted between Luke and White Owl. In profile, the three Keenans resembled one another. Little Turtle straightened his back and mimicked his father and great-grandfather.
What a handsome boy he was. Surely, they could be friends.

Unable to contain her curiosity,
Sarah asked, "What is happening now?"

"We honor my father by having a feast in his name
."

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