That night, the medicine man climbed to the top of a high hill in search of advice from friendly spirits on how to cover the entire earth with leather. He slept. In a dream vision he was shown the answer to his problem. Amid flashes of lightning, he tore down the steep hillside, howling louder than the big chief at times, as jagged rocks wounded his bare feet and legs. He did not stop until he was safely inside his lodge. He worked all night. The warriors who were to send him on the shadow trail came for him just before noon the next day. He was surrounded by the war-club armed guards and he was clutching something rolled in a piece of deerskin tightly to his heart. His cheerful smile surprised those who saw him pass. ‘He is brave!' said the men. ‘Yes, he is very brave!' said the women.
The chief was waiting just outside his lodge. Before the medicine man could be led away, he asked if he could say a few words to the chief. 'Speak!' said the chief, sorry to lose a clever medicine man that was very good at most kinds of magic.
The medicine man quickly knelt beside the chief. He unrolled two strange objects and slipped one of them on each foot of the chief. The chief seemed to be wearing a pair of bear's hairless feet, instead of bare feet. He was puzzled at first as he looked at the elk-hide handcraft of his medicine man. 'Great chief,' the medicine man exclaimed joyfully, 'I have found a way to cover the earth with leather! For you, O chief, from now on the earth will always be covered with leather.' And so it was.”
The cave was quiet. From the dark, David said sleepily, “I like that story.” No one said anything more and the fire burned low as they all slipped into dreams of moccasins and Christmas. Outside, a light snow began to fall.
The Death of Falling Water
“To say goodbye to her was almost more than I could bear. She taught us so much, gave us such hope and loved us so deeply in those few short months. She renewed my trust in others and imbued a sense of joy in the simple act of living. After all that we had seen, life was a challenge, enjoying the process seemed impossible, but Madge saw things differently. She lived her life on her terms. She was kind, down to earth, and loved us well. If I live to be a hundred, I doubt I could be as special and as wonderful as that old woman was to us. In the end, I can say only this, she became Grandmother Falling Water, and we honor her memory to this day. She reminded us that the world was not all death and hate and violence. She taught us, she loved us, and we will carry her stories and lessons with us forever.” – Jess’s Journal
One evening, in late January, they gathered around for a story and Madge sat silent for several moments. She had been tired that day, sleeping longer into the morning than usual in the past few weeks and eating less each day. As she sat there silently, Jess was struck by how old Madge looked. When they had arrived, she had not wanted to ask the old woman’s age. It would be rude, so she held her tongue. Tina had not been held to the same social norm and had asked her loudly one day if she were a hundred years old. Madge had laughed and shook her head, never answering the little girl. As they sat there waiting for Madge to begin her story, Jess thought that Madge looked older that evening than she had ever seen her look before. The moment passed, and the old woman looked around, smiled at the children surrounding her and the tiny baby in her arms, cleared her throat and began to speak...
“What is the meaning of life? Why is it that people grow old and die?
Although he was young, those questions troubled the mind of Little One. He asked the elders about them, but their answers did not satisfy him. Eventually, after asking and asking, he knew there was only one thing to do. He would have to seek the answers in his dreams.
Little One rose early in the morning and prayed to Wah-Kon-Tah for help. Then he walked away from the village, across the prairie and toward the hills. He took nothing with him, no food and no water. He was looking for a place where none of his people would see him, a place where a vision could come to him.
Little One walked a long way. Each night he camped in a different place, hoping that it would be the right one to give him a dream that could answer his questions. But no such dream came to him.
At last he came to a hill that rose above the land like the breast of a young maiden. A spring burst from the rocks near the base of a great elm tree. It was a beautiful place that seemed to be filled with the power of Wah-Kon-Tah. Little One sat down by the base of that elm tree and waited as the sun set. But though he slept, again no sign was given to him.
When he woke the next morning, he was weak with hunger. “I must go back home,” he thought. He was filled with despair, but his thoughts were of his parents. He had been gone a long time. Even though it was expected that a young man would seek guidance alone in this fashion, Little One knew they would be worried. "If I do not return while I still have the strength to walk," he said, "I will die here and my family may never find my body."
Little One began to follow a small stream that was fed by a spring. It flowed out of the hills in the direction of his village, and he trusted it to lead him home. He walked and walked until he was not far from his village. But as he walked along that stream, he stumbled and fell among the roots of an old willow tree. Little One clung to the roots of the willow tree. Although he tried to rise, his legs were too weak.
"Grandfather," he said to the willow tree, "It is not possible for me to go on."
Then the ancient willow spoke to him. "Little One," it said, "all the Little Ones always cling to me for support as they walk along the great path of life. See the base of my trunk, which sends forth roots that hold me firm in the earth. They are the sign of my old age. They are darkened and wrinkled with age, but they are still strong. Their strength comes from relying on the earth. When the Little Ones use me as a symbol, they will not fail to see old age as they travel along the path of life."
Those words gave strength to Little One's spirit. He stood again and began to walk. Soon his own village was in sight, and as he sat down to rest for a moment in the grass of the prairie, looking at his village, another vision came to him. He saw before him the figure of an old man. The old man was strangely familiar, even though Little One had never seen him before.
"Look upon me," the old man said. "What do you see?"
"I see an old man whose face is wrinkled with age," Little One said.
"Look upon me again," the old man said.
Then Little One looked, and as he looked, the lesson shown him by the willow tree filled his heart. "I see an aged man in sacred clothing," Little One said, "The white down of the eagle adorns his head. I see an aged man with the stem of the pipe between his lips. You are firm and rooted to the earth like the ancient willow. I see you standing among the days that are peaceful and beautiful. I see you standing as you will stand in your lodge, my grandfather."
The ancient man smiled. Little One had seen truly. "My young brother," the old man said, "your mind is fixed upon the days that are peaceful and beautiful." And then he was gone.
Now Little One's heart was filled with peace, and as he walked into the village, his mind was troubled no longer with those questions about the meaning of life. For he knew that the old man he had seen was himself. The ancient man was Little One as he would be when he became an elder, filled with that great peace and wisdom which would give strength to all of the people.
From that day on, Little One began to spend more time listening to the words his elders spoke, and of all the young men in the village, he was the happiest and the most content.
This was one of the longest stories Madge had ever shared and she looked exhausted at the end. Usually her stories were short or often funny. As she finished she looked down at the ground and tears formed in her eyes. “I have not been entirely honest with you, Little Ones. I told you I came back here to this cave to continue my work, but that isn’t the full truth.” She paused and stroked Jacob’s sleeping face as he lay cuddled in her arms. “In the weeks before fighting broke out in the city I was not feeling well. I’d lost a lot of weight. No matter how much I tried, I could barely b
ring myself to eat.
I underwent a series of tests and the doctors found cancer. They said it was just a matter of time. They told me it was too advanced, and that it had metastasized throughout my organs and they could do nothing for me. They gave me six months, and told me to call my children. Then things turned bad in the world, and,” she shrugged, “I came here. I tried several herbal remedies and things improved. I felt better, my appetite returned and I felt younger than I had in years.”
She smiled at them, taking in the young, worried faces looking at her in the crackling firelight. “I came out here to die, not to continue my work. Then all of you came and you made me feel so alive. You have made these past few months a joy and a gift at the end of an old woman’s life.”
Jess’s voice broke as she choked the words out, “You’re dying?”
Madge laughed, clear and clean, and the sound bounced and rolled through the cave magnifying and expanding, “Oh Mi’-na, from the moment we are born we begin to die. My moment will come soon, far sooner than yours, and it will be on my terms and through my choice. I could have stayed there, gotten the treatments that would have robbed me of my hair, turned the food I ate to dust in my mouth. I could have survived with a few less organs than I currently have. But I have lived a long time and I am satisfied with how I have lived it. I have loved, and been loved. Given birth and raised my children. Taught and learned much about my people and my history.”
She smiled at them again, tears flowing freely down her lined cheeks, “I thought I had seen everything and done everything I wanted to do, and then you came. And these weeks and months have been a beautiful finish to a well-lived life.” Tina crept close, nestled against her right arm, and Madge hugged her close. “But I can feel it in my body, eating away at me, killing me with each day that passes. I don’t think it will be much longer, a month, maybe two. Forgive me children, for I asked you to stay not just for your safety, but for my own selfish needs. I did not want to die alone, even here, in the home of my ancestors. I wanted someone to be here at the end. You have seen far too much death, and I ask too much of you, I know I do.”
They were all in tears and Jess reached out and held the old woman’s hand. “We won’t leave you Grandmother. We won’t leave you alone, I promise.” She said it with conviction and David nodded nearby, looking at the ground as he tried to hide his tears.
Madge had not been far off when she said the end would come soon. After that night in January her condition worsened quickly. They had all made such progress in storing food and supplies in the months before winter that one less hand in chores was not missed. However, Jacob had grown used to hours in Madge’s wizened arms. He looked for her, even from the wraps of Jess’s sling and whimpered fretfully.
He was teething, and this did not help his mood. Jess solved this by moving her cot right next to Madge’s, so the baby lay between them at night and close to Madge during the day. This brightened his mood and Madge’s as well. She would smile with joy when she opened her eyes and saw him there just inches from her.
Madge would sleep all night, wake for breakfast, then nap again until lunch, and often again until dinner. She touched very little of the food and only smiled and shook her head when Jess or David attempted to feed her more. Slowly she shrank in size until her bones jutted prominently. She now looked every inch of her Osage heritage with the hawkish nose, high cheekbones and long limbs. David stayed by her side constantly, as did Tina, and they listened to her stories now told at a mere whisper. It was as if she was attempting to fill their heads with every piece of knowledge she had and they were just as intent on memorizing it.
Jess sat by her side one day and wrote down the names of Madge’s children, along with birth dates (as well as Madge’s failing memory could remember them), last known locations and promised to do her best to contact them. They deserved to know what had happened to their mother and the good that she had done for others in the last months of her life.
January slipped into February and as that month drew to a close, it became obvious that the old woman would soon be gone. Her skin was pale and mottled, clammy to the touch. Her breath came in short gasps, and no food or water had passed her lips in over two days. The children had seen heartache and pain and the ugliness of death. Far too much for their short lives, but somehow, this ending was different.
Madge had said she wanted to die on her terms, and she did, surrounded by people who had come to love her and care for her deeply. They stayed awake through the long night and as the rays of the sun pierced through the woven hangings at the front of the cave, Dr. Madeleine Falling Water gave one last, soft gasp and left the world, with all of them by her side, their hands holding hers, tears streaking their faces. Quincy howled mournfully.
That afternoon, Jess and David wrapped the old woman’s body in deerskin, sewed it shut, and laid her on the ground a few feet away from the thong tree. The ground was still frozen, and there was no way they could dig a deep enough hole, so they gathered stones and made a cairn. When it was done and the sun was slipping down through the trees, the group gathered and stood at the heap of stones, silently for a few moments. Jess spoke first, reciting a poem Madge had taught her just days before.
“The Track of the sun
across the Sky
leaves its shining message,
Illuminating,
Strengthening,
Warming,
us who are here,
showing us we are not alone,
we are yet alive!
And this fire......
Our fire.....
Shall never die”
Tina had discovered some tiny yellow flowers poking up from the snow and she solemnly placed them on the pile of stones. David cleared his throat and began to recite the last story Madge had ever told him...
“A young man wanted to become a respected elder, so he went to an elder and the elder told him, ‘You must learn to count to 100.’ Simple enough, the young man thought.
One day a homeless and dirty old woman limped into town. Some people looked at her and turned away. Others stared and whispered behind their hands.
The young man felt sorry for the old woman. He approached her and said, ‘Grandmother, come in, rest.’ He put his arm around her shoulders and took her into his home. He welcomed her, offered her water, and when she had rested and drank some water, he gave her soup.
He called to his mother and sisters, ‘Help Grandmother wash and change. Put her in one of your buckskin dress and give her those new moccasins.’ The mother and sisters bathed the old woman, washed her hair and braided it, dressed her in new clothes.
Then the family invited her to live with them, to join the family.
Later the young man brought her to the elder and introduced her saying, ‘Grandmother has a new family.’
The elder asked, ‘Is that the old homeless woman? You did this?’ When the young man nodded the elder said, ‘That is one.’”
“Thank you, Grandmother, for the lesson and the reminder that there is good in this world.” David said clearly, despite the tears slipping down his face, “Look for the day that I learn to count to one hundred.”
They could think of nothing more to say. Returning to the cave felt surreal, the heart of this place was gone without old Madge. They ate dinner quietly and Tina fell asleep huddled in David’s lap. She had cried off and on all day and was worn out. Jess had wrapped Jacob up and laid him on her cot where he would probably stay until the sun rose. She looked over at David, his face was morose and he stared off in the direction of the cave entrance. It struck Jess that he looked older, more grown up. “When’s your birthday?”
“Huh?” He seemed startled to hear her speak.
“When’s your birthday?”
“April 4th, I’ll be twelve.” He seemed a little surprised at the thought. His thoughts drifted to his parents, dead for nearly a year now. He had turned eleven and not even really thought about it. They hadn’t exactly been payi
ng attention to calendars at the time it had rolled by last year.
He thought a minute more, “Tina turned four in January. The 11th, I think.” He looked embarrassed and somewhat guilty, “I didn’t remember her birthday.”
Jess stirred the coals of the fire, “I guess I never really asked or thought about it before, myself. I turned sixteen exactly two weeks after Jacob was born. I was so damn tired those first few weeks it’s entirely possible that I slept right through it.”
She paused, let the silence deepen and then said, “Adults would say you and I are both still kids, y’know. But we aren’t. We’ve seen too much awful shit to be kids anymore.” She spoke to him as an equal, more than she ever had before.
David nodded slowly, watching her; he wondered where this was heading. Then it dawned on him and he knew. “You think it might be safe now.”
“Huh?” Jess looked confused for a moment, “Oh. Hell, I don’t know. It’s been nearly six months, that’s one heck of a cold trail. They’ve probably forgotten all about us by now. Besides,” She gave a smoldering log a sharp, angry shove, “It isn’t two teenage girls anymore, so we don’t fit the description on that paper.”
“You still do.” It was a fact, her hair was beautiful. Long, deep curls and golden blond, – it was hard to forget hair like that.
“I could cut it short. And then I’ll dye it with some of those damn walnut shells that made our fingers black for a week.” She grinned, “Can’t do much about my eyes, but lots of people have blue eyes.”
David grinned back, “Can I help cut it?” The look of horror in her eyes at the thought of him cutting her hair made him laugh for the first time in days.
The Tennessee Four
“The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.”- Alexander Solzhenitsyn
The Storm: War's End, #1 Page 25
