So Long Been Dreaming (33 page)

Flowering Moon, sun-turning 7

The planting is over. It was a nice change to play with the children on the beach today. The water in the lake is already warm enough for a swim. Sleek and I played with them for hours in the shallows by the shore. Her face relaxed; she looked younger and seemed so happy, and that made me happy too. Maybe she and the others can adjust to our ways after all.

Flowering Moon, sun-turning 9

Jimtalbot rubs his fourth finger when he thinks no one is looking. Like the others he was forced to give up everything from his past, including the narrow gold ring that used to be on that finger. Just now when I went out to relieve myself, I heard someone sobbing quietly in the shadows under the te’an tree. When I went to investigate, I saw Jimtalbot. I sat down beside him and took his hand. “What’s so wrong?” I asked him. He sniffed and tried to pull his hand out of mine, but I held on and repeated my question.

“Nothing really – I’ll be all right . . . I was just thinking about home – and my dead wife. She was visiting her mother in Toronto when it happened. The whole eastern part of the country was annihilated, from what Dra’hada told me.”

“Such thoughts are more than nothing, Jimtalbot. I can’t imagine losing so much; it must be terrible. I think you and the others are very brave.”

He shook his head; I could see the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes by the lantern light. “Not brave at all. Your
Benefactors
gave us no choice.”

There was such harshness to his voice when he said those words that I shivered and wrapped my shawl tighter around my shoulders. “They are your Benefactors too,” I pointed out to him. “Would you rather have had them leave you to die?”

He was silent for a long time. Finally he said, “I don’t know, Qwalshina. It is all so different here – I don’t know if I have the courage to live in this place.”

Surprised by his confession, I raised his hand to my lips and kissed it. “Surely you can; we are all here to love and help you. You aren’t alone here – and if you wish a new wife –”

At that point, he disentangled his hand from mine and stood up. “Thank you for your concern, Qwalshina. You are very kind. I think I shall go back to my bed now. Good night.”

I went back to my own bed with a troubled heart. The little ring was such a small memento. Did we do right to make them give up everything? Our Benefactors advised it, but. . . .

Flowering Moon, sun-turning 25

Last night, there was an argument down by the beach that ended with Sand Walker and one of the new men being injured. Everyone is so upset today, and Dra’hada was furious when he heard about it. He told me that such violence wouldn’t be tolerated. Why can’t the new ones see how lucky they are? These people were saved from death; why are they so angry? I don’t understand them. I wish they’d never been brought here.

No, that isn’t true; we need them. . . .

Korn-Growing Moon, sun-turning 11

I had to make a difficult decision yesterday about Sleek. Her baby was suffering. She would shout and curse the babe more often than she would feed or care for the boy. Today the women’s council came to take the baby away. She cursed us in the vilest terms. Judging by her behaviour later, however, I think she is secretly relieved to be rid of the child. The council gave the little one to Aunty Shell to foster. Granny Night Wind says the boy is doing better already.

I look at Sleek’s hard eyes and I wonder what is wrong with her. Can’t she feel any emotion but anger? How could she be so indifferent to her own child’s welfare? I remember how it was when we lost my oldest daughter’s first born. Poor unfortunate mite – we were all distraught when he had to be culled.

Korn-Growing Moon, sun-turning 16

Our medicine woman, Granny Night Wind, thinks we will have a good crop this harvest season. Tallav’Wahir, we live in harmony with Her cycles. She feeds us, Her spirit helpers protect us, and in return we bury our shit and our dead in her rich gray soil so that She can absorb our essence, swallow our memories, and enfold us in the oneness of Her living soul. My daughter Tukta’s face comes into my mind – she is so young, and so happy. Will the land love and bless her, make her one of Her favoured ones? Oh, I pray it will be so.

Berry Moon, sun-turning 2

There was a great bonfire down on the beach last night. We baked fish on sticks, and ate berries cooked with sweet dumplings till our bellies grew hard and round. In the long green twilight, we played running games. Then someone brought out a drum and that started everyone singing and dancing. Our Twace and two boys in my cousin Rain’s compound can drum very well. I danced till I thought I would fall over from exhaustion. Later Tree, Sun Fire, and I crept off to a quiet place by the spring where we made sweet love under the stars. Some time during the night Tree’s unmarried brother Sand Walker joined us and that was good too.

Berry Moon, sun-turning 9

When I was working at my loom this evening Sleek came over unexpectedly and sat down beside me. She seemed curious, and maybe a little interested. None of my other children have the talent to be a master weaver. It would be a shame for the family to lose such a skill when I become too old for the craft. Some of our Benefactors pay high prices for our art back on their Homeworld. I let her watch for a time, then I asked, “Would you like me to show you how to do this?” She shrugged, but didn’t get up and leave. Best not frighten her away, I thought, so I just continued on with my work.

After a while she volunteered, “My grandmother used to weave – it looked something like that.”

Startled, I stopped my work and turned to face her. “Really? That’s very interesting. What kind of things did she make?”

“I don’t remember exactly; I was pretty young when she died. . . . I remember one thing she made, though. It had bright colours; I used to tangle my fingers in its long fringes.” She smiled at the memory, and added, “It was probably something ceremonial, a dance cape maybe. A lot of the old women in our tribe used to make them for the potlatch ceremonies.”

“Pot-a-latch.” My tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar word. “Was this a ceremony of your people held to honour the Earth Mother?”

“I don’t know; my mom never took me to one.”

I went back to my weaving at that point. I could see she was becoming nervous by my questioning.
Be careful, Qwalshina, or you will frighten her away
, I told myself. But inwardly I smiled as I twined the yarn back and forth between the rope strands on the loom. Truly our Benefactors are wise. Dra’hada knew how much I was missing Tukta, and gave me a new daughter of the same racial stock as my own. At that moment I felt very good about knowing that. It made me feel a little closer to her.

On impulse I asked her, “How old are you?”

She seemed startled by my question, and her eyes narrowed with suspicion at first, then she relaxed. “The lizards didn’t tell you?”

“No. I never asked our Benefactors. Is your age a secret? Would you tell me?”

She gave me another shrug. “No secret. Eighteen. Why?”

“I was just curious.” Eighteen. I forced myself to go back to my weaving.
Gently, gently, Qwalshina
, I told myself. “You are about the age of my third daughter. She got married recently and moved to another village. I miss her. I’m glad you are here to take her place.”

Sleek snorted. “I don’t have much use for
mothers
, so don’t get your hopes up about making me your new daughter – or teaching me that silly string stuff either.”

She made me angry then, and I allowed my evil tongue to say something cutting in return. “Maybe if you had been more willing to be
mothered
you could have done a better job of being a mother yourself, instead of abusing your baby.”

Sleek jerked back as if I’d slapped her – which in a way I had. I saw the hurt in her eyes for just a moment and then it was gone, replaced by her habitual sullen anger. She stood up and glared down at me with such contempt that it made my bones shiver. “You people make me sick,” she spat back.

“You think you’re so wonderful and know what’s best for everyone, don’t you? Well, let me tell you about
my
mother. She was a drunk who let her boyfriends fuck me whenever they wanted; then told me it was my fault for being a slut. I never wanted to be a mother – fuck mothers – all mothers. Who needs any of you?”