by Janie DeVos
“And do the women take part in this black drink?” I asked. I was beginning to think we’d arrived at a very bad time.
Max smiled knowingly. “Only if they want to, kaccv hokte. Only if they want to.”
“Max! Max!” The shouting came from one of the men tending the bonfire. He hurried over to the four of us. He was short, squat, and the color of burnished caramel. His smile seemed to take up the entire lower half of his face, and when I looked over at Max, I saw that he was smiling just as broadly. He quickly dismounted and hurried over to the man. They reached out with their right hands and clasped each other’s forearms, while resting their free hands on each other’s shoulders. They began speaking in the Muskogean language but switched over to English, which Max had obviously asked the man to do.
“Ah, Max, I’ve prayed so often to the Great Spirit that you would come back to us, and here you are!” He pumped Max’s arm enthusiastically. “And right at the Green Corn Festival! Now, if that isn’t the Spirit’s hand at work, I don’t know what is!”
Max chuckled. “Ah, Uncle Jay, it’s good to be with you again. It’s been—what, five years?”
“Seems like more!” Uncle Jay said before turning his attention to us. “Welcome, welcome! If you’ve come with Max, then you’re family, and you’re welcome here for as long as you choose to stay.”
“Thank you,” Ivy, Moses, and I said softy and almost in unison. Though we were all a bit overwhelmed and unsure of our footing in this unfamiliar culture, I knew I was humbly grateful that this man had welcomed us so warmly and without question; I knew that Ivy and Moses had to be feeling the same relief. I let out a long breath and loosened my grip on Maggie’s reins. From the looks of the red crescent-shaped marks imprinted in my skin, I realized that I’d been holding the reins tightly for some time. Maggie was my comfort and a means of escape. I prayed there’d be no reason for any of us to feel as if we had to escape again, and I prayed that the rest of the tribe would be as welcoming as Uncle Jay.
Chapter 34
Into the Inner Circle
Immediately upon our arrival, the chief was informed, and we were summoned to a long chickee. Uncle Jay accompanied us, and we were brought before Chief Kitisci Haasi, which, I was told, meant Red Sun. His tribal council was gathered around him, and they watched us through waves of thick smoke emanating from several pipes. They showed very little expression but listened intently as both Jay and Max spoke in the low, guttural-sounding Muskogean language.
Finally, Moses was told to step forward. In broken English, Chief Red Sun asked him his ancestors’ clan’s name.
“My great-grandmother was a member of the Turtle Clan,” he softly declared, though his jutting chin gave away the pride that he obviously felt in his heritage.
The chief responded in his own language and everyone laughed. Max chuckled too, then nodded at the chief and turned to Moses. “He wants to know if it is your wish to stay. If it is, the Seminole Tribe will gladly welcome a brother of one of their own, as well as your woman. He said, ‘Tell the Black Seminole that he is permitted to stay. And so is his woman with skin as white as an alligator’s belly.’”
Moses bowed slightly to the chief and confirmed it was their wish to stay and thanked him; then Max translated for him. The chief spoke for several minutes with Max, but their conversation was not translated for us. Finally, Max told us everything had been settled and it was time to leave. We softly and humbly thanked the chief and bid everyone a good night. We were immediately fed and then shown to the chickees where we would be staying. As we walked, I saw Max leading Tom’s and Rayne’s horses over to the chief’s long house, and I knew that a deal had been made.
While we stayed in the village for the better part of the next three days, I became caught up in the various activities, games, dances, and meals of the Green Corn Festival. I realized that taking part in these rituals was a great privilege, which reassured me about Ivy staying and made me more than grateful to the Seminoles for accepting my sister and Moses.
The women were in the midst of preparing an elaborate feast to break a day of fasting for the men, and Ivy was helping. A couple of the women knew English, and they patiently explained what food was being served and how to prepare it. It was important that Ivy start learning the Seminoles’ ways. She seemed willing and eager to learn, and the women seemed just as eager to teach her. They were excited to learn that she was a very capable medicine woman and had saved Max’s life. The knowledge and skill that Ivy possessed made her an invaluable asset to the community, and without question, her status among the people would be high.
Ivy was engrossed in making a vegetable soup, so I took the opportunity to slip away and get a bath. I had wanted to earlier in the day, but the men had been taking their ceremonial one. This was the final step in the cleansing process after fasting and drinking the purgative “black drink.” Max had taken part in the ceremony, and I hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.
The creek ran parallel to the village. In the midafternoon sun, the dark blue water sparkled and shimmered as a breeze ruffled its surface. Though most of the men had returned to the village, there were still a few who lingered, enjoying every last minute of a day that was intended to restore the body, both inside and out. Among the stragglers was Max. The upper half of his body was out of the creek as he lay back against its bank, supported by his arms, which were outstretched to either side of him. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed as he raised his face toward the sun. A young man swam by and intentionally splashed him. Max said something to the young man, though I couldn’t hear what it was. It made the young man laugh and swim away. As he did, he spotted me above the bank and said something to Max. Max looked toward me. Embarrassed at being there when there were no other women around, I quickly raised my hand and started to walk away, but as I did, I heard Max call my name. I turned to see him lift himself onto the bank and then walk toward me.
He wore nothing but a breechcloth, and his hair was loose and damp. As he got closer, I could see the water droplets on his body reflected by the sun as they made slow trails down his bronze skin, working their way around his well-muscled chest and arms and on down to his strong, defined stomach.
The wound on the upper part of Max’s chest was healing beautifully. Gone were the red streaks that had spread out from the bullet hole when it was infected. What remained was the small clean line of Ivy’s neat stitching. He was whole again and he looked wild in every sense of the word: free, strong, agile…and beautiful. He seemed pleased that I was watching him. About ten yards from me, he stopped at a tree and retrieved the long tunic he’d been wearing. We had all been given customary Seminole garb; I felt a little self-conscience in clothing so unfamiliar to me, but the layered patchwork skirt and lightweight short shirt I was dressed in were more comfortable than anything I’d ever worn. My hair had also been styled in the traditional Seminole topknot, which allowed a soft breeze to cool my neck and offered some relief from the heat of late July.
“Were you looking for me?” Max asked as he pulled his tunic over his head. “Or did you come to bathe?”
“Bathe.”
“Come with me,” he said, picking up the pace. “I know a spot where you’ll have plenty of privacy.”
Obviously, he knew this village well. “Max, you told Uncle Jay it’d been five years since you were last here. I thought you said you’d been to this part of Florida before—hunting or tracking, or something—but many of these people know you and were so happy to see you, like you’re the prodigal son returning home.”
Max nodded in understanding. “In a way I am. My mother’s family were Creeks, and originally from Georgia,” he explained. “After a while, some ended up in Alabama, and some came down here. My mother and Uncle Jay were brought here by their parents, but when their mother died, my mother went to live with her grandmother in Alabama, and Jay stayed here. I know it’s c
onfusing, but so is the Seminole history. The Seminoles were actually formed from an alliance between the Creeks, the Miccosukees, and several others. After I lost my family, I spent a lot of time down here. They were the only family I had left—well, the only family I knew, anyway. So I came and I went. And each time I left, they wished me well and welcomed me home when I returned.”
“They’re good people, Max.”
“Yes.”
We came to a place on the creek where a sandbar had actually created a natural bridge from bank to bank, but the middle of the bar had been dug out to allow the water to freely flow through. However, if one took a long enough leap, a person could jump from one side of the bar to the other.
“I’m going to jump across and then you follow.” Without giving me a second to object, he took off at a run across the bar, then leaped high into the air, and made a clean landing on the other half of the bar. “Now you,” he yelled.
Laughing, I hiked my skirt up and took off running. I jumped at just the right moment and landed on the other side, and then I followed him away from the creek and up through a thin line of pines. When we came out on the other side, I saw a small crystal-clear spring. The clarity and color of the spring reminded me of those back home.
“Your bath awaits.” Max bowed.
“No gators? No snakes?” I asked, looking around and feeling quite vulnerable.
“I’ll guard you with my life,” he declared, and sat on the grass, where he immediately removed his tunic, lay back, closed his eyes, and allowed the sun to finish drying him.
“You’ll be asleep in two minutes.” I laughed. “I’m going to strip down to my underclothes, so close your eyes until I get in.”
“They’re already closed,” He laughed.
I hurriedly disrobed down to my chemise and drawers, and then I sat down on the edge of the natural pool. I tested the water by first sticking my feet into it, and finding that it was refreshingly cool, I eagerly shoved myself off the bank. The spring was only about twelve feet deep, with a white sandy bottom and ribbons of seagrass floating like banners in a parade.
Suddenly, I heard a muffled splash and saw a mass of white bubbles as Max shot down into the water. Facing me near the bottom, he reached out and took my hands, and then we kicked our way to the surface. Laughing, we swam around the perfect little pool, playfully splashing each other, diving down into the cool depths, and talking about pleasant things for a change. There was no more talk about how to outfox trackers or how to go about finding my sister and what to do if and when we did. The place was perfect, as was the day, and all too quickly the time came when I needed to get back to the village to help set out the meal.
Swimming over to the edge and climbing out, I suddenly realized that my soaked cotton underclothes left nothing to the imagination. I quickly knelt in the grass to gather up my clothes. Max’s hands came to rest on the tops of my shoulders. He had knelt behind me. Max leaned in and kissed my bare neck and then licked my skin. The heat of his tongue against my cooled skin caused me to shiver. It made me want more of him, and Max knew it.
Gently, he laid me back on the grass, and then he lay down beside me. Bringing his face just inches from mine, Max began speaking in his native language, and though I couldn’t understand the words he whispered against my lips in his low, deep voice, the look in his dark blue eyes was explanation enough. I’d seen that fire before, when we were tracking Ivy and Moses, and we’d kissed. Now there was a deeper longing, a greater intensity, but also some vulnerability.
He brushed back my hair as he gazed at my face, smiling softly as he did, as if he was pleased with what he saw. Finally, Max covered my mouth with his, tasting me deeply and hungrily with his tongue, speaking in a language that every soul is intrinsically familiar with. And I answered.
Chapter 35
Unbreakable Bonds
We didn’t stay much longer at the spring. Things were getting out of control—we were getting out of control—and I knew I needed to stop it. I told him that I needed to get back to help the women with the feast, but we both knew it was far more than that. As we walked back to the village, I brought up the subject that had been in the back of my mind since we’d arrived.
“Max, when were you thinking we could leave for home?”
There was silence for several seconds before he answered, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was giving the question some thought or if he was angry that this was utmost on my mind. But he had to realize that this surreal existence which we’d been thrust into was temporary.
There was no doubt that I had deep feelings for Max—deeper than I wanted to even think about—and if I didn’t return to Jacksonville in a hurry, I was afraid things would spin out of control. The life I’d been living for several days was not permanent as it was for Ivy. Nor was Max the man I was committed to sharing my life with. I would honor the promises I’d made. I felt guilty that I had such intense feelings for Max. They were totally inappropriate, and so was my behavior. I needed to get back to David, to the newspaper, to the world that I belonged to. This one belonged to Ivy and Moses now—and to Max.
Suddenly, I felt very alone. I just hoped that feeling would evaporate once I was steaming down the St. Johns, with Jacksonville visible in the distance, and David standing at the harbor awaiting my return. I hoped he was waiting for my return. I knew that David would be upset once he found out that I’d taken off after Ivy. But I prayed that he would understand how dire the situation was and that I’d had no other choice than to try to intervene before my sister and Moses were destroyed.
“We’ll leave after breakfast in the morning,” Max said as he picked up the pace. “Have your things packed, and we’ll go as soon as we’ve eaten.” He was all business, and I was a little taken aback by his matter-of-factness. Both of our moods had changed as soon as the word home was mentioned. Max was once again the hunter and trader standing by the racks at the general store in Silver Springs.
“All right.” I nodded. “That’ll give me a chance to talk to Ivy and tell her good-bye.” I started to tear up but fought back my emotions. They were flooding to the surface as I faced the harsh reality of saying good-bye to my twin sister. Unlike my leaving home to go to Jacksonville, this Seminole settlement was a place where I’d probably never return to. And whether Ivy would ever be able to return home remained to be seen. I knew there wasn’t a chance of it happening while my father was alive, and he was not an old man yet. However, if he kept drinking, his demise would come sooner rather than later. The sad truth was that either way it worked out, there was no winning.
The village was quiet. There were a few women working at a long table that had been set up in the cleared area in the center of the settlement. They were decorating it with various flowers, greenery, and raw ears of corn; it was obvious that this would be the table of honor for the enormous meal that would take place as one of the final events of the Green Corn Festival. There were smaller tables, and they were decorated, too, but not as elaborately.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“It’s nearly time for the feast, so the women are preparing the food while everyone else is either resting or dressing. After we eat, there will be a final dance, and the chief will thank the Great Spirit for another fine harvest of corn. Any others who care to speak can, and then the festival will end.”
“I’m going to see if I can find Ivy. Will I see you for dinner?”
“Yes,” Max said as he turned off in the direction of his uncle’s chickee.
When I entered the small chickee where Ivy and I had been staying, I found her slipping into a beautiful red-and-white multilayered skirt. It wasn’t the usual one that she’d been wearing, and I commented on how lovely it looked on her. Then, before I took the time to get dressed, I asked her if we could talk. She laughed and said she was about to ask me the same thing. Hiking up our skirts, we sat cross-legged on t
he bed, just as we had as children.
Ivy smiled as I took her hands. “You go first.”
I got right to the point. “Max and I are leaving tomorrow.”
My sister’s smile faded. “I knew it’d be soon, Eve, but I just wouldn’t let myself think about it.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at the bed as her eyes filled, and I pulled her to me.
“You’re going to be fine, Ivy.” My eyes were as full as hers were. “You’re a survivor. Besides, I’ve never known you to want to live the same kind of life as everyone else.” I lifted her chin up so that I could look her in the eye. “I think you’ll be happy with these people, or I wouldn’t leave you here.”
“Where would you take me?” She laughed, wiping tears away. “Our old home isn’t my home anymore.”
“Well then, we would just make ourselves a new one somewhere, wouldn’t we? But, I think you’ve found that special ‘home’ place here. A home is not so much about where it is as much as it’s about feeling wanted and appreciated, and I believe you’ve found exactly that among these good people, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, squeezing my hands. “I honestly do.”
“Ivy, I haven’t been fair to you these last few years, and I’m sorry.”
My sister looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“I should have been more supportive about your choice of work as a healer. I should have encouraged you and helped you more.”
Ivy scoffed. “You never did anything to try to stop me or to make me feel like I was making a poor choice, Eve. That’s ridiculous.”
