Spirit of the Lake

by Paty Jager

  She rubbed the tears from her cheeks. Her angry gaze stared into his eyes never wavering.

  “I have witnessed the evil which creeps into our valley.”

  Lepít

  (2)

  “What is the evil you have seen?” Wewukiye asked, leaning back from the intensity in her eyes.

  “The so-yá-po. He is evil. He takes everything in this valley he admires.” She wrapped her arms around her body as though to keep it from being pulled from her.

  “He is not good for the Nimiipuu, this I also believe.” He had yet to see the good of allowing the men the color of antelope to enter the valley. They grazed their animals and set up camps and eventually homes.

  Her eyes took on a gleam, hatred shooting from their dark depths. “Our leaders do not see this. They say, ‘do not make trouble.’” She sat up. “I have never made trouble nor said a cruel word against anyone, yet they hold me as a troublemaker for telling them the truth.”

  “What is the truth?” The minute he asked, the anger in her eyes faded to fear.

  “I do not wish to remember.” Her voice lost its tenacity and her shoulders drooped. She pulled the blanket tighter, shutting him out.

  Knowing she did not wish to be touched, he nonetheless reached out, tipping her face up to peer into his eyes. “Are the bruises on your body the reason you do not wish to remember?”

  Her cheeks darkened, shame and revulsion sprang into her eyes. She tried to pull her face from his scrutiny, but he held firm.

  “You do not have to tell me what happened. Only who is the man who would do such to a maiden.”

  “Evil Eyes.” She spat the words.

  “He is a White man?”

  She nodded her head slightly.

  “Which one?”

  “The one they call Two Eyes, who takes meals at the fire of our chief. The one who says he can give the Nimiipuu fair trade for their horses. The one who secretly plans to take over the Nimiipuu country.”

  Wewukiye had not seen a man take meals with Joseph, but had heard of a so-yá-po making himself friends with the Lake Nimiipuu.

  “This man. How does he look?”

  “His hair is the color of dead grass.”

  Wewukiye stared into her eyes. “Is that why you fought me so hard at first? You thought I was he?” Her cheeks colored, and he knew he touched on the truth. “I do not hold that against you. He was not kind.”

  The fear faded in her eyes. She stared at him. “Your hair is the color of moonbeams. Now in the light of day, I do not see the slightest resemblance.”

  His heart quickened at her kind words. Why, he didn’t know. Emotions such as these were unknown in his spirit world. Her words should not have moved him.

  “And your eyes…are different.” She closed hers and swallowed. “I will never be able to look at another such as he and not see the evil.” Her eyelids opened. “You can tell he is evil looking into his different eyes.”

  “How are they different?”

  She shivered. “One is brown and one is blue.”

  Hatred, something he rarely harbored, flashed hot and bright in his gut. A man such as she described matched a spirit he dealt with many, many summers past. Back in the time before horses and anyone had seen a man with light skin. Surely this could not be the same spirit. Why would he return to this earth as a so-yá-po? And why would he want the Nimiipuu valley?

  He shook off the coincidence and watched the maiden whose name he didn’t know.

  “I am Wewukiye, and you are?” he prompted.

  “Dove.” She bent her head and peeked up at him. “How is it I have not seen you around the village?”

  Ah, the question he had dreaded. He could not tell her the truth. He was forbidden to allow a mortal to discover his presence.

  “I am of another band of Nimiipuu. I was passing through and saw you.”

  She blushed at the mention of their meeting.

  “Then you will be moving on?”

  Did he catch disappointment in her voice?

  “When I have completed my mission.” He hated telling half-truths to Dove, but he could not tell her he was the spirit of the lake. He was forbidden to a mortal his presence.

  He wished to keep the conversation light, but he needed to learn more about Evil Eyes, and why her people would not listen to her.

  “I do not wish to bring you more discomfort, but I must know all about Evil Eyes and why you are living alone in this cave.” She glanced down at her wringing hands. “It is the only way I can find a way to help.” Her head jerked up, and she watched him, her eyes seeking acceptance.

  “Do you wish to be back with your people?” he asked. He created a spectacular sight as a bull elk, but knew his man form while less elegant, still remained regal and domineering. He knew these qualities would get him the answers he sought and hopefully help the maiden watching him through sad eyes.

  “My people and the country we live in warms my heart and feeds my existence.” Her spine stiffened and the conviction in her words left little doubt to her reverence.

  “Then why were you determined to end your life?”

  His blunt question nearly knocked Dove backwards. Why indeed was she so determined to end her life? Jutting out her chin, she peered into his soft blue eyes.

  “If what I live for no longer has faith in me, and my country will soon be taken from me and my people, why would I wish to exist in such a place?” She watched him, struggling to read the emotions hidden in the planes of his face. He had practiced well the art of not letting others read his emotions.

  Tendrils of heat spiraled through her the longer her gaze lingered on his form. His blue eyes, straight nose, high cheekbones, and square chin showed his strength of character. His full bottom lip and curved upper lip softened his look. Giving one to think he would laugh easily.

  “To fight the ones pushing you from your home. To prove to your people you are faithful only to them.”

  His words shrunk her confidence. She had run from her obligations, hiding from her people. Due to her impulsive behavior, she had taken the cowardly way out. For this, shame would forever clothe her.

  Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Why had she not thought of these things? Because you act before thinking.

  He reached toward her. She leaned back. Her encounter with Evil Eyes remained too fresh in her memory to allow a man close. Even one she instinctively knew would not harm her.

  “I did not mean to make you sad. You must become strong. If you are the only one who knows Evil Eyes’s plans, you must find a way to reveal it to the leaders.”

  Dove nodded her head. She knew this was so, but how? “How do I do such a thing? When I told them”—she choked on the bitterness bobbing in her throat—“they would not listen. They said I made it up.” Anger gave her purpose. “The bruises on my body are proof I did not make this up.” She hit her stomach. “The evil seed growing within me is not made up.” The day she should have gone to the menstruation lodge she knew Evil Eyes had placed a seed within her. What warrior would want her, knowing she carried the seed of an evil so-yá-po?

  Wewukiye stepped forward. “You are sure there is a seed growing?” His curiosity and acceptance rather than revulsion surprised her.

  “Y-yes. My time has not come as it should.” A woman did not speak of this matter with a man, yet, he stood calmly in front of her, watching her as though they talked of the seasons.

  “There is your proof.” He stated and pointed to her belly.

  “I do not understand?”

  “When the baby comes out with hair the color of dead grass and two different colored eyes, your people cannot disbelieve you. The proof will be in front of them.” His announcement skittered excitement across her skin.

  Would the child growing within her vindicate her? Could she endure the stares and the accusations she was a troublemaker until the child was born?

  “How?” Could she survive living among the nonbelievers and suffer the birth alone?


  “How what?”

  “How can I live that long on my own and bring the child forth by myself?” A thought hit her. “What if he does not come out with hair the color of dead grass and different eyes? What if he looks like me?” Could she carry this child knowing how it was conceived? Her body shook remembering the pain and roughness of the man’s hands on her. “How can I bring a healthy child into the world when I feel nothing but revulsion at it?”

  “If this man is as evil as you say, his difference will be his undoing. You will not be alone. I have a friend in the village who will take you in.”

  “Who? I thought you were just passing through, how do you know someone of my village?”

  “We are family.”

  “Who is your family?”

  “Pe`tuqu`swise.”

  “Crazy One?” Here she thought this man could help her. If he believed Crazy One capable of helping her, he must be as mad as the old woman.

  “She is as quick as in her younger days,” he said, defending the woman.

  “She walks around picking at people and muttering questions.”

  “Have you stopped to listen to those questions? They carry great insight.”

  Dove shook her head. She wanted a better option than living with a crazy woman. But could think of none other than what she had already tried.

  “You only have to live with her until the child is born,” he said as though reading her thoughts. “Once you have proof, your family will take you back.”

  Even though at this moment she did not wish for a mate, she could not help the sadness which filled her knowing she would never be loved by another. She did not want to exist with a man to be used for children and to take care of him. She yearned for a mate who would hold her and create safety, something she had lost since the attack.

  He tipped her head up. She had not realized how tall he stood until this moment. Her head tipped back, and she gazed up into his eyes. The blue darkened as his gaze explored her face.

  “Do not be fearful,” he said, his touch soft as a feather against her skin.

  She closed her eyes. The concern in his weakened her. Once Evil Eyes was exposed, she could hope her life would go back to normal. But did anyone ever get over being violated and bringing a child you did not want into the world?

  This man would not understand. How could he? He would never bear an unwanted child nor be forced to shame. His strength and gender kept him safe and invincible.

  She swallowed the resentment crawling up her throat and opened her eyes. “I know I will never have the life I had before. Not only the child growing within me will change who I am, but the facts I will tell the leaders will also change me.” She pulled back from his warm hand and glared at him. “It will be hard to sway the leaders without proof of Evil Eyes’s deeds. However, you have given me no choice by pulling me from the lake and making me understand things clearly.”

  For the first time since they met his lips curved into a smile, and his eyes flickered with humor for a brief moment.

  “Good, use anger to move you forward. The battle should not be with yourself, but with those who are harming the Nimiipuu.” His smiled vanished. “You do realize it will be a battle? The Lake Nimiipuu leaders have tried to keep peace with the so-yá-po to instill the safety of the people. Bringing out the evil in the one they trust will not be easy.”

  He took her hand, dropping it hastily when she flinched. “I will help you disgrace the Evil Eyes and with the coming of your child.” He peered into her eyes. “You will not be alone through this.”

  Mita

  (3)

  Dove’s heart quickened. He would not let her do this alone. His statement and unguarded affirmation in his eyes lifted her spirits.

  “Qe`ci`yew`yew. Thank you,” she whispered, overcome with gratitude.

  Wewukiye’s heart pattered in his chest. He liked being alone, but having told this woman he would not leave her had lightened her load. He had helped mortals over the years at a distance. His existence was for that purpose alone. Helping this mortal and experiencing her gratitude humbled him beyond words.

  “Come. Crazy One will be waiting for us.” He reached out for her hand.

  Dove pulled her hand back. “How do you know she is waiting for us?”

  “We have been meeting at this time since I have arrived.”

  She cast suspicious eyes to him. “Why do you not go to the village?”

  “It is by her request we meet outside the village.” He shrugged, biding for time to decide how to explain his relationship to Crazy One. She was his niece, yet as a mortal she had aged while, though he was hundreds of years old, he looked younger than Crazy One. “As my elder I do as she wishes.”

  He reached to help her up, fear and distrust flickered in her eyes. He pulled his hand back allowing her to stand on her own. Time would have to pass before she would feel comfortable being touched by a man. His blood boiled thinking of the pain and torment the so-yá-po gave her. He doubted he’d be able to contain his anger should he meet this man.

  He followed the small woman out of the cave and wondered at her ability to survive such an ordeal. Her strength glowed in her determination to end her life and her vengeance to make her people see the so-yá-po for the truth. How could she believe taking her life would help anything? He and Crazy One would help her see her worth.

  She stopped. “Why do I lead when I do not know where I am going?” Her baffled expression made him laugh.

  “I do not know. You left the cave ahead of me, so I followed.”

  She motioned with her hand for him to pass. He tipped his head and walked by, directing his feet to the meadow where he and Crazy One met on a regular basis. She was the last of his brother’s children.

  He entered the meadow and held his breath. Though he trusted Crazy One, she did not know his identity was unknown to the woman behind him.

  “How is my uncle?” she asked as he walked up and embraced her.

  “Fine.”

  “Why is this maiden with you? Does she know?” The old woman’s gnarled fingers plucked at imaginary objects on his shoulder.

  Wewukiye watched Dove scan the woman and listen intently.

  “No,” he said, gazing into Crazy One’s eyes and speaking with more than his voice.

  The woman nodded and tipped her head toward Dove. “Is she staying away from the village?”

  “I have come to ask if you would keep her in your lodge.”

  Dove stepped sideways out of his vision, but he sensed her retreat. She would not tolerate forceful restraint. He peered into her eyes, holding her with his gaze.

  “Dove has learned something important and is being kept silent to preserve peace.” He never took his gaze from the young woman staring back at him. Fear and uncertainty swirled in her eyes, but he wouldn’t let her go. She must remain, not only for her people, but for herself.

  “Is it of the so-yá-po?” Crazy One stepped beside Dove, slipping her arm around the maiden’s arm. Wewukiye mentally thanked his niece.

  “Yes.” He watched Dove. “Crazy One needs to know everything to be able to help.” The shame and uncertainty in Dove’s eyes angered him. He could not fathom how one man could touch a woman and bring fear to her.

  “You are with child?” Crazy One nodded her head, picking at nothing on Dove’s dress. They both stared at the old woman.

  “How do you know?” Dove asked, trying to pull away.

  “Are they starting rumors?” Crazy One shook her head. “Are you running from shame?” The old woman’s eyes glistened. “Am I believing the words of those who hide or the words of a good girl?”

  Dove sobbed and threw her arms around the woman. Crazy or not, the woman believed in her. She finally found someone who did not look at her as though she were the evil instead of the man who brought all this upon her.

  “Will you help her? Be her friend and listen to her truths and believe?” Wewukiye asked.

  The sincerity in his eye
s and the husky concern in his voice warmed Dove’s heart and told her she had two people who believed in her.

  “Am I not crazy?” The old woman laughed loudly, opening her mouth and showing the dark spaces where her teeth once stood.

  Dove studied the woman and wondered if given the old woman’s name she was stable enough to help. Her thoughts must have penetrated the old woman’s laughter.

  “Can I keep you safe? Can I feed you? Can I help with the child?” She nodded her head. The woman put her arm around Dove and walked them both out of the meadow.

  “Crazy One knows how to contact me. If you need anything, I will be around.” Wewukiye’s strong voice followed her down the trail back to the village.

  How would she face her family and the rest? What would they think when she returned with Crazy One to live in her lodge? A shiver of doubt rippled across her skin.

  “Are you well?” the woman asked, walking determinedly down the mountain to the village.

  Dove’s throat tightened. She couldn’t utter a word for the anxiety tightening her muscles and wearing away at her good sense.

  “What will we find?” the woman said. “What does it matter? Are you going to prove them wrong? Am I going to help?” The old woman squeezed her shoulders, and they stepped out of the trees.

  Teepees and lodges dotted the ground all the way to the edge of the lake where the sweat lodge stood. Dove glanced around at her summer home. Chills of apprehension knotted her stomach. The last time she set foot in her village no one would listen to what she said. Everyone, even her family, looked upon her as though she’d tried to stab them with a knife.

  She shook away her doubts and boldly stepped toward the village. A few women glanced up from tanning hides and drying fish. When they spotted Crazy One at her side, they started nudging one another with elbows. Crazy One led her past her family’s lodge. Dove dared not look. If she saw any recrimination on her mother’s face, she knew her newfound courage would zip away like the dragonfly.

  “Dove?” Her mother’s voice stopped her feet. What was she to say or do? Her mother had sided with the leaders, even after seeing the bruises on her body. No one believed her about the White man. Willow had glared at her daughter with disapproval.