by Sharon Sala
Suwanee reeled as if she’d been slapped. Her head dropped as her heart broke. It was as she feared. He hated himself, which meant he would also hate her now.
Tyhen heard this and was enraged. This was not the brother she knew, lashing out at innocent people without care for how it hurt them.
She walked away from Wolf Moon, grabbed Evan by the shoulders, and shook him where he stood.
“Stop talking!” she cried. “You talk crazy from the grief. You have both used the spinning cube more than once without harming yourselves. You have no way of knowing if anything has happened to him. You are not in charge of what your heart feels, and you do not sacrifice yourself just because your brother’s world did not turn as he would like.”
“Turn loose of me,” Evan said, and pushed out of her arms.
“Then grow up!” Tyhen shouted.
He glared.
She glared back.
Yuma was stuck between them without knowing what to say without making it all worse.
But it was Suwanee who finally brought him to his senses. Broken in spirit she turned away, took three steps and fainted.
Everyone jumped to catch her, but it was too late. She hit the ground with a thud.
The sound hit Evan like a blow to the gut. What had he done? What if she lost the baby? That would be his fault, too.
He picked her up in his arms.
“Do you have a healer?” he asked.
“We have many,” Wolf Moon said.
“Send one of them to the lodge of Sees With One.”
Tyhen felt for Suwanee’s heartbeat. It was steady.
“She is okay. She just fainted,” Tyhen said.
“She has a baby in her belly,” Evan said. “I need to make sure she is okay.”
“Let me have her,” Tyhen said. “I can get her down faster.”
Evan hesitated, then handed her over and started running, intent on getting there as fast as he could.
Tyhen went straight up and then flew down to the village with the tiny woman in her arms and straight to the lodge where Evan had been sent.
The old man was standing outside when they arrived.
“What happened?” he asked.
“She fainted.”
The old man frowned. “I do not know that word.”
“She got upset and fell to the ground and did not get up,” Tyhen muttered.
The old man felt of her forehead and then frowned.
“She will wake up soon I think.”
“Do you know a healer?” she asked.
“I am one,” he said. “Come inside.”
Tyhen carried the tiny woman inside the lodge and gently laid her down on the sleeping robes.
A few minutes later Evan entered the lodge too out of breath to speak, and with Yuma at his heels.
Tyhen glared at Evan.
“Sit down and do not talk until you have something wise to say, and when she wakes up you apologize, and then you do it again every day for the rest of your life. She has left everything she knows for you. She will grow big with your baby inside her with no one to explain what is happening to her body. If we do not mess this up, nothing is wrong with Adam other than the fact that he chose to live a life out of your shadow.”
Evan was more than ten years older than her, but right now he felt like a child who had done something foolish—something bad—and was afraid he would not be able to make it right.
“I will. I promise. I am sorry. It was a shock.”
She took a deep breath and then shook her head.
“I can only imagine how you feel,” she said softly. “I am so sorry that he chose this, but you have to honor the fact that it was his choice.”
Evan nodded, but he was already focusing on Sees With One who was tending to his woman.
“She is not injured?”
“No.”
“Why doesn’t she wake up?”
“Maybe she does not want to,” the old man said, then walked out of the lodge.
“Now’s your time to start talking,” Tyhen said. “Give her a reason to wake up.”
She turned around and walked into Yuma’s arms, so heartbroken that another one was missing from what was left of her family. He led her out of the lodge, leaving Evan alone to make his peace.
Evan didn’t waste a moment as he took her by the hand and held it to his cheek.
“My love, I am so sorry. I spoke harsh words to you that you did not deserve. I was wrong to be angry. Wake up. Please wake up. You are my life.”
He watched her eyelids flutter and breathed a slow sigh of relief. He sat motionless, waiting for her eyes to open, and when they finally did, he saw his reflection in her gaze.
“Are you alright? Do you hurt? I am so sorry.”
Suwanee lifted her arms.
He pulled her into his lap and then rocked her where they sat, telling her over and over of his regret until she had heard enough and put her hand over his mouth to stop his talking.
“I did not sleep just because you hurt my feelings. I think it happened because I carry your child and I ran all the way up the mountain. The world began to spin and I fell asleep.”
He held her that much tighter.
“I know about the baby. I am so happy.”
She nodded. “So am I. We will have a fine strong son like you. I know.”
Evan sighed. “One I hope who has more patience and a calmer heart.”
“I am so sorry your brother left,” she whispered.
Evan shrugged. “I knew he was unhappy, and you were only part of it. He did not know how to hunt. He knew nothing about living this life. He felt like he was useless.”
She sighed. “This life is hard but he could have learned.”
Evan shook his head.
“He didn’t want to and now he’s gone. It is as Tyhen said. It was his choice.”
“We will have a baby,” Suwanee said.
Evan smiled. “Yes, we will.”
She snuggled closer within his embrace, grateful that the hate was gone from his face. She never wanted to see that again.
Chapter Twenty
Spring had come to the village. The forest around them was alive with new growth. Baby-green leaves trembled and shook from the incoming sea breezes, the air was warm—the cloudless sky a shade of true blue.
The sea was churning with froth on the lips of the waves—a sign of an incoming storm. The chains of small islands beyond the bay were wreathed in swarms of the sea birds that roosted there.
More than a third of the villagers were now living in cabins and grateful for the solid walls and a roof that did not sway in the wind or leak rain. The introduction of furniture was yet another innovation that had yet to catch on, except for the beds. While the women liked the comfort of a table to prepare the food, they still chose to sit on the floor cross-legged to eat and visit. But they did enjoy what the New Ones called beds, and sleeping off the floor on a surface piled high with warm skins and furs.
Children over the age of five summers went to school for half a day. They were learning what the New Ones called math. The concept of numbers was interesting, even to the adults, and they were learning along with their children. But they didn’t understand the need for learning the languages of strangers that may never come to their shores.
It wasn’t until Evan told them that the languages were a powerful tool, a kind of magic. That if they knew what was being said, then the strangers would never be able to overpower them, or use deceit to take what was theirs. After that, even the adults came to sit in on the classes.
The women were taught that by crushing shells that littered their beaches by the thousands to mix with the mud and grass they used to chink between the logs that it would turn the chinking into a kind of cement, making it less receptive to bein
g washed away by the rains.
Lola longed for a place to plant a garden, but quickly accepted that with the abundance of deer and elk, it would most likely be eaten before it could be harvested. She tried not to dwell on those precious seeds she’d sheltered for so many months on their march.
Aaron, who was thriving in a fishing environment, had put on weight to the point he was nearly back to his former size. He kept his long hair tied back at the nape of his neck and his body was getting brown again from long days in the sun.
Yet while he was satisfied with the place they had settled in this world, he felt bad for Lola and wanted to see her happy. He thought for several days as to how she could make her garden before he remembered greenhouses. While they had no way to replicate the plastic or windows that had been on them in the days before Firewalker, he got an idea of how to adapt it, and with a few friends, they went to work.
As trees were cut down to build new houses, they began reclaiming the land around it until he had a large, fully cleared field close to their cabin. They dug out tree stumps and carried out rocks until it was ready to till and plant.
After that he began building what looked like the walls of a log cabin, but much longer with much slimmer, taller trees, and without chinking the spaces between. To the New Ones, it resembled a fence made of welded pipe, like the ranchers used to pen their animals before Firewalker.
Aaron made it high so that deer and elk could not lean over it to eat what was growing, and wide and long to accommodate more than one garden.
Lola was ecstatic and often worked hand in hand with the men carrying logs and setting them in place. She put Dakotah at work lopping off the tiny branches and twigs Aaron left on the fencing just so nothing would be tempted to come eat off the leaves. She went to bed each night thinking about what she would plant first and where she would plant it.
Like all of the other children, Dakotah went to the school, and when he wasn’t helping Aaron in the afternoon, he made himself available to Tyhen so that he could be closer to the baby. He was still the single source of instant comfort to the child and wondered about the day when he would see her face.
Everyone was in a state of change, including Tyhen. Her body was big and her steps were slower. She hadn’t flown in weeks and was patiently awaiting her baby’s birth.
At night Yuma held her in his arms and listened to her talk about her day and wondering about the New Ones who’d gone with other tribes, wondering how they fared.
He heard the fear in her voice when she spoke of having the baby without her mother at her side. He had not forgotten what she’d said to Evan the day Adam disappeared, and how she’d confronted him about putting any of the blame onto his wife, reminding him that she’d left everything she knew to be with him and for him to never forget that fact.
It had touched him deeply, knowing that she was talking about herself when she’d said it. Because he could not bear to see her sad, every night when he kissed her goodnight and then wrapped her up in his arms with his hand on her belly, he promised both his wife and his daughter that they would not face this journey on their own.
Content with her life and the man who had been given back to her, she welcomed each day, believing that the worst was over.
***
Tyhen stood in the doorway of their two room log cabin, watching how the morning sunlight turned the ocean into sparkling gold and letting the wind have its way with her hair.
She wore a loose deerskin shift, her feet were bare, her hair unfettered and hanging down the middle of her back. Her belly was heavy, her movements slow and methodical. Although spring had come to the village, she felt like a bear waking up from its winter sleep, wanting to roar from a hungry belly and yet cranky because it was awake.
The baby was kicking. She had been kicking for days now. Tyhen thought she must be trying to kick her way out. She laid a hand on her belly, absently rubbing in a slow, steady circle, as if trying to calm the constant turmoil within, and then laughed aloud as a little foot suddenly kicked hard against her palm.
“Ow, little girl. That almost hurt. What are you trying to tell me?”
I see what you see. What is it?
“Do you mean the ocean?”
It moves. Is it alive?
Tyhen narrowed her eyes against the sun’s glare, trying to look at it as her daughter saw without understanding what it was, and then realized she was right. With the constant motion of ebb and flow, the birds diving to pluck a fish from beneath the surface and the dolphins swimming just offshore, it did look alive.
“The ocean is water, which is not alive, but it is alive with what is in it.”
I am ready.
Tyhen’s heart skipped a beat.
“To be born?”
Will it hurt?
Tyhen rubbed her belly more, wishing she could touch her to reassure her she would be fine.
“You leave the work to me. All you have to do is keep moving and then it will be over.”
A storm comes.
“I know. The sea looks angry.”
I am the wind. I come with it tonight.
Tyhen shivered with anxious anticipation.
“I will be ready,” she promised, and kept rubbing her belly until the baby settled and she kicked her no more.
Satisfied that her days of waiting would be over, she walked outside a few steps until she could see Yuma down at the beach.
The men of the village were building yet another boat to go with the two they’d built during the winter. The lives of the Paint Clan were changing and, by tomorrow, another Windwalker would be born.
***
Suwanee moved slowly, burdened by the huge weight of her belly. Being small, she knew this would not be easy, but she had not been prepared for Evan’s news. Two moons ago he said there were two babies inside her belly and that she must lie down often and let him worry about doing what needed to be done. He even talked a girl older than Dakotah to come a few hours every day, and do for Suwanee what she could no longer do for herself. In exchange, he would pay her with the hide of his next elk.
It made Suwanee the talk of the village. Not only was she going to have two babies, but she had someone doing her daily chores, and the woman doing it was going to get a most prized hide for her trouble.
It was, quite likely, the first instance of ‘hired help’ in this new world, but it would not be the last.
***
Yuma glanced up from the beach and saw Tyhen watching them from above. He stopped and lifted an arm in greeting, but either she didn’t see or she was lost in thought. Either way, her stillness made him uneasy and after a quick glance at the angle of the sun, he called a halt to their work.
“I think a storm is coming,” he said, as he picked up his tools to carry back to the cabin. “I say this is enough work on the new boat for today. I will hunt later.”
The men didn’t argue. Physical work every day was an anomaly for warriors. They used to spend their time making new spears or shaping stones for new axes. All the rest had been women’s work. Now they were hot and tired each day and ready for something to eat.
Yuma started up the path toward home with haste, anxious to see if Tyhen was well.
He felt pride as he glanced up at their cabin. They had done a lot of work in a short time. The small area around the house had been cleared of rocks and brush and he had built a roofed porch over the front door so that she could sit out and watch the ocean, even if it rained. He remembered the flowers in his mother’s garden and made a point to look for flowering bushes in the forest so that he could transplant them around the porch. It would look pretty and be as near to the floral Eden of Naaki Chava that he could create.
As he neared the house he felt the wind behind him push harder than before. He turned to look at the sky. It was changing. More clouds were there now and in the far d
istance across the water he could see darkness. It was the storm. It would likely take a few hours to get here, but tonight it would rain and the wind would blow and he was most grateful not to be riding it out beneath lodge poles and deerskin.
In a hurry, he ran the last few yards to the house, laid his work tools on the porch, and then leaped the steps and went inside.
Tyhen was going through the things she had been preparing for the baby. When she heard his footsteps, she turned with a smile.
“I saw you at the beach. That will be another fine boat when it is done.”
He went to her, laid a hand on her belly, slid the other beneath her hair and pulled her to him, feeling the race of her blood against one hand and the kick of the baby with the other.
He leaned in and kissed her slowly, with a lingering ache. It had been a long time since they had been together, although he didn’t mind. It was but a passing thing in their lives. Right now, the baby was more important than soothing his lust.
“She wants out,” he said.
Tyhen laid her hands over his. They held the child together, but it would be the last time there was a barrier between them.
“The baby comes with the wind,” she said.
Yuma’s heart skipped a beat as his thoughts slid to Tyhen. As powerful as she was, she would still suffer as all women suffered, bringing a child into the world. Suddenly he was a little bit afraid.
“Are you ready? Is there anything you need for me to do?”
She smiled. “We will eat something now. Afterward you will tell Lola and Willow. Tell them to come before the storm begins so neither will get wet.”
Yuma’s heart was pounding.
“I should tell them now,” he said.
“I do not want them underfoot until they are needed,” she said.
“I want this time to myself. Right now, we eat. There is meat from what we roasted in the fireplace last night. I made bread this morning after you left.”
She pointed to the circles of baked flat bread. The Cherokee made flour from wild potatoes, pounding them into a kind of flour and then mixing it with water and baking it on a stone. Yesterday Dakotah had brought her a handful of small black berries. He told her they were mostly sweet, which made her laugh. She could tell by the purple stains on his fingers and lips that they had been sweet enough for him to eat.
