by JR Green
Mintikwa came upon the tallest of the towers. He stood at its base, peering upwards, marveling at the dizzying heights of the structure. A crow appeared. Soon a second materialized, and then a third. They slowly drifted away from its tip and circled together against an unwavering blue sky. Mintikwa circled around the broad base of the building. As he completed the loop, he came upon a gash in its side. It was big enough to walk through. Mintikwa was feeling especially bold in the noon sun, so he stepped into the darkness.
Something cracked and popped under his feet as he walked. It looked like sheets of ice. He reached down and touched a piece of it. The surface was smooth but not cold as ice should be, so he decided it wasn’t what he thought it was. He had never seen anything like it. Now, as he stepped, he did his best to avoid it. It made too much noise.
Mintikwa came upon a latticework of the red-ochre material. The stuff seemed to crop up more and more all the time. He moved in close and found that it stretched upward, pinched between four walls of stone. Mintikwa leaned in and peered up. The red-ochre latticework formed a path upward for as far as he could see. For all he knew, it went all the way to the top. Mintikwa pondered the possibility of going up there. He touched the red rock-like material. Some of it flaked onto the floor. He stepped onto the path. It creaked under his weight but then fell silent. It was a long path, circling around endlessly. The air within the giant house was very still. For the first time since passing the boundary on the river, Mintikwa thought of the supposed ghosts. If there were any ghosts in Eddytown, they were surely here. This place felt haunted, inhabited by amorphous beings, seemingly cross about something from their past or everything. Mintikwa couldn’t say whether it was his imagination running away, but he felt their presence. Once long ago, they walked this path.
Despite the eerie space, Mintikwa’s curiosity about what it was like up there won out. He decided to chance it and began to climb. The lattice of brown, flaking rock creaked with each step. The path was dark. The four stone walls, perfect in their smoothness, were oppressive. From time to time, Mintikwa paused to rest his legs, but also for a reprieve from the creaking noise of his footsteps. He climbed on. The path twisted continuously as it went up. Soon Mintikwa realized that at each turn, there was a door. As he climbed, he found some of them open. He paused and peered through. The space within stretched on, deeply shadowed. They were like caves steeped in silence, for the most part, occasionally pierced by the call of a bird or other small animal. Their voices echoed from the catacomb walls. At one of the open doors, Mintikwa paused and then stepped inside. The light came in along the sides and dimly illuminated the vast open area. It was deathly quiet. Mintikwa closed his eyes. He sensed that at one time, the space was full of people.
A vision flashed before his mind. Somehow it came to him that they didn’t live here, that when they were in this place. They were far away from their families and the homes they loved. Mintikwa tried to focus on what occupied their time while they were here. Images flashed before his mind of their tasks and voices. Other strange sounds came to his ears. He opened his eyes. Ghosts passed before him. For the most part, they seemed reluctant to be here. Some even seemed to suffer and cry out silently for relief. Were they prisoners? Were they slaves?
Mintikwa shuddered. These people were too alien for him to know. He backed away and entered the pathway to the sky again.
Occasionally, he came upon a crack or a hole in the wall, through which he caught glimpses of the view outside, giving him a sense of the distance to the ground. It was unnerving and, at the same time, exhilarating. He went on like this for the better part of the afternoon. Just as he began to wonder if the path was endless, he circled one last time and came to a stone wall. One door stood closed. Mintikwa pushed against it, but the barrier wouldn’t budge. He pressed harder, bearing against it with all his strength. Finally, the door swung open, and daylight burst into the dim space. Mintikwa stepped through.
At first, he was blinded. But as his eyes adjusted, he realized that he had climbed to the very tip of the building. He walked out onto a flat surface. He was reminded of his dream, the branchless trees with their tops cut off. His vision had come true. Now he stood upon one. Mintikwa walked on. He eased closer to the edge. He grew anxious as more and more of the ground came into view. From up here, the building looked twice as tall as it did below! Strangely, the edge drew him on. The closer he got, the more he felt like he was falling. What drew him to the edge? Was it the sensation of falling without the deadly consequences? Mintikwa climbed trees back home for the same reason. He stopped about four paces from the edge. He was close enough to see the ground directly below. It was mesmerizing to see from so far up. Nothing else in the world compared. Mintikwa realized that he had climbed higher than anyone among his people. He looked to the heavens. With both hands, Mintikwa reached up. He closed his eyes and felt the air and imagined he was touching the sky.
A keen sense of what this place was about fell over Mintikwa then. Mintikwa opened his eyes and surveyed the stone village below. His awareness was not so much about its purpose. That was still a mystery. What he sensed was about what happened to it and all its towering companions soaring above paths as straight as arrows. Mintikwa sensed that it had all been overwhelmed by something sinister, incessant, pervasive, and relentless. Something with agency had consumed this town and everything in it, save the stone and the strange red rock. Then it was abandoned, very suddenly in fact. Mintikwa wasn’t sure how, but he knew without a doubt that it happened just as he imagined.
Mintikwa looked to the horizon and turned about slowly, taking in the great circle formed by the four directions. He stopped when he saw the river. He settled into tracing its course with his eyes. He started downstream and memorized each turn, remembering what each was like. He followed it to the point where he left the river, at the bridge. Mintikwa gazed upstream, to unknown territory. For a moment, he felt like he was back at the sweat lodge, reading the map. He traced the river for as far as he could see. On the horizon, he found the cove. He recognized it as his destination, Pouch of the Panther, the place of their emergence. From his position in the sky, he could see the goal of his vision seeking. Relief washed over him as he realized that it would soon be over.
A figure emerged from the building directly across from him. Mintikwa ducked into the shadows.
Soulless, he thought. Perhaps they had moved from the south to settle here before the people could.
Mintikwa peered around to get another look at him. He quickly realized this was not one of the Dark Ones. But how could that be? Another human? None existed, he thought, at least in this world. All the people of the last age were destroyed. But who was this man? Was he from home? Mintikwa strained to see. He didn’t look anything like any of his people. In fact, his features were very different. Mintikwa had a strange thought. He began to wonder if this man were from the fifth world, or perhaps Mintikwa had returned to it himself.
A huge beast emerged from the building. Mintikwa gasped and took a step back, despite the great distance between him and the creature.
The man reached for the strange animal. It did not back away but instead moved forward. A cord dangled from the animal’s nose. The man reached for it and then called to the beast. Mintikwa realized the rope was fastened on its head so that the man could lead it. Then they both were walking together between the strange buildings.
The creature had a familiarity about it. Mintikwa realized it was like a deer in that it had hooves. It sniffed around the ground as it walked. The man and the deer-like animal crossed into a cluster of grass growing from the stone. The beast stopped and tugged at a tuft of grass, pulled it free, and then began to chew.
The strange man touched the creature on the back, lifted his foot, and slid it into a loop near the beast’s belly. Mintikwa hadn’t seen it until now. Then he hoisted himself onto the back of the animal. Mintikwa almost cried out loud. Thankfully he caught himself before it left his lips. The strange m
an was on top of this creature!
He made a clicking sound and prodded the animal in the ribs. Then it took off running over the stone river with the man on its back.
They disappeared.
Mintikwa was thunderstruck. What strange place is this? Perhaps he had passed into another world. Mintikwa looked about at the cavernous towers. Maybe this wasn’t Eddytown, after all.
The strange man made his hackles rise. Mintikwa backed off carefully, trying not to make a sound. When he was far enough away, he sprinted for the river. He crossed the bridge and climbed back down the bank, and got in his canoe. He paddled on, eyeing the bridge until it was out of sight and far behind him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MINTIKWA’S JOURNEY WAS complete. He found Eddytown. Though the mystery had only deepened with the discovery, mainly what was this sister town with its strange structures? There was no mention of it in the stories. Though his curiosity burned, he knew it was now time to draw his vision seeking to a close. Today he would find the cove from his dream. He knew it lay just ahead because he had seen it from the top of the stone tower. He would burn sage and tobacco at the cove and sing and dance until he could no longer stand. With luck, he would have the vision he had been seeking. Then he could go home!
Far to the east, in primordial woods untouched by the hand of humankind for a millennium, rainwater trickled from the hills and coalesced into the headwaters of a stream. The entropic waters finally joined together into a creek that coursed as clear as quartz over bedrock and gravel. It twitched and writhed like a serpent on its way west toward the people’s river. As it reached the water, it surged into Wildcat Cove.
Mintikwa walked near the cove. He trudged through the shallows, his feet barely escaping its porous surface. As he made for the confluence, he alternated between sprinting over the wet sand and wading across the final, shallow courses of the creek.
Finally, he came upon the source of what had drawn him, the cove where the creek emptied into the river, the place of their emergence.
He looked out over the river. He turned, and he traced the swerving creek as it made its way from the forest. This is it, he thought. What a perfect place for his totem spirit to reveal itself, so near the water. Would it be Buffalo Fish? Otter? Might Beaver make another appearance? Perhaps it was not the right place for Beaver before. Or it might be Hawk? Hawk did hunt above the waters. Could it be the river itself? Mintikwa often felt the river did have a presence of its own. It seemed to watch over him. A totem didn’t have to be an animal. It might be a tree! Sycamore loved the river as much as he did.
Mintikwa set up camp. He took his pack from his canoe. Like he had done with Willow, he cleaned away all the twigs, the rocks, and the fallen leaves from the sand around him. But this time, he took out the arrow that Willow had given him. He set it in front of him. He carefully brushed away the bugs. When the area was clear, he smoothed out the sand and drew a big circle, then he eased down within the circle.
Mintikwa pulled out the two sacred bundles, the sage and the tobacco. He took out flint and stone and struck them together until sparks shot out into the sacred plants. He continued to hit until there was a shower of sparks. When the sage took fire and began to smolder, Mintikwa leaned in and blew on the bundle. Soon the tips glowed red. He nudged the tobacco bundle into the embers as he puffed, and it took fire too.
With the tendrils of smoke rising to the sky, Mintikwa began to sing. He took up the arrow in his hands and waved it about as he sang. He thanked the manitou for seeing him to Eddytown. He asked for guidance.
He sang all afternoon and into the evening. When he became sleepy, he began to dance to stir his blood. He danced until he collapsed. He rested until he had the energy to stand again. Night had fallen. He sang until the night bugs thrummed all around him. He sang until they grew quiet again. He felt dawn approaching just outside the blackness, and he still sang. He couldn’t remember the moment he stopped because, in the next instant, he was asleep.
The following day, as soon as he awoke, he walked to the beach and waded into the river. There he washed and splashed water on his face. He dove into the water and sank to the riverbed. He opened his eyes and followed the rows of mussels as they stretched into the depths.
He thought about his dream. He had plenty of dreams but no vision. Mintikwa remembered the red willow bark. Perhaps it would bring his manitou. He decided he would try. Mintikwa surfaced and waded out of the water.
He set up the sage and tobacco. He brought out the arrow Willow gave him. And this time, he added the red willow bark. Tendrils of smoke rose up from the beach. The air was heavy. The smoke diffused and hovered. It eased out over the river. The scent of sage, tobacco and red willow hung on the air.
The waters of the cove began to swirl. Whirlpools began to form all across the river.
This must be the sign he had been waiting for! But whirlpools? Why did it have to be whirlpools?
Mintikwa quickly grew alarmed. He took a step backward. He eyed his canoe, fearing that it might be lost. He was just a moment away from leaping in, paddling out of the cove, and heading straight for home.
The water splashed and rose above the riverbank. It tossed his canoe into a stand of cattails.
Underwater Panther emerged from the cove.
He did so just long enough to make his presence known. Immediately Mintikwa knew. He was stunned, unable to move. He was terrified, but the physical appearance of Underwater Panther burned into his eyes. This was impossible! He knew of no one who had actually seen this creature. Only storytellers described the god. The beast had the arms and legs and head of a giant panther, but all along his back, he had scales that shimmered as brilliant copper. On top of his head grew a magnificent pair of horns, and his tail swished heavily in the water, easily reaching from one bank of the river to the other. After only a few moments, Mintikwa saw steam rise from his back. He was quickly gathering fire to him. Seeing this, Mintikwa felt the power of the spirit. Here before him was a creator and destroyer of worlds, and he was witness to the workings of gods. Humbled, he grew fearful.
Sensitive to his powers, the Panther submerged again. The waters swept in, filling the space he left behind. After a time, the god of the underworld lifted his head.
He greeted Mintikwa.
“Do not be afraid,” the spirit said, now speaking the language of his people. “I offer you help.”
Mintikwa was mistrustful of the spirit, for he knew that he was a trickster and a very dangerous being who held no great love for his people. Why would Underwater Panther help them? Mintikwa found himself wishing he had taken Beaver as a totem spirit and gone home.
However, despite his fear, he mustered his courage and questioned the beast.
“Why help us?” he asked directly.
The god of the underworld went down, and the top of his head sizzled as it dipped underwater. Mintikwa could hear the Panther growl. Soon the surface of the river trembled.
Mintikwa sat quietly, full of fear, but held onto hope that Underwater Panther hadn’t decided to end him here and now.
A moment later, the spirit settled down. The water grew calm.
“You have overcome me with your fasting, your singing, and your burnt offerings,” the creature admitted. “Come near. I will not harm you. I sense you are here for answers.”
Mintikwa thought of his conversation with his mother. He felt guilty for only wanting to see the ancient village, and he felt the need to help his people. Would the manitou help them? His mother said it wouldn’t hurt to ask. But to ask Underwater Panther? Likely this thought hadn’t entered his mother’s mind. Mintikwa drew up his courage.
“What question do you have?” The Panther asked again.
Mintikwa formed the words, but they stuck in his throat. He tried again, struggling to force them out of his mouth. It was several agonizing moments before he finally blurted out what he so much wanted to say.
“Fish are scarce,” Mintikwa said, much too loudl
y. “Our game too,” he stammered on. “Crops wither. The people go hungry. We know it is time to divide, to form a new village. Should we go south? Or return to the land of our ancestors here in the north?” Mintikwa asked. “Will there be food at Eddytown?”
“If you do as you have always done, your luck will be the same at Eddytown. But the answer to your hunger is in the river.”
This was puzzling to Mintikwa. Already it seemed the god was speaking in riddles. “But how can the answer be in the river if the fish are gone?” he protested.
“The fish are not the answer,” the Panther said. “In fact, you must stop eating them. They need time to recover.” He was sizzling again. As he ducked underwater, steam wafted from his nose and drifted along his back.
What would happen if this god remained in the world for long? Mintikwa imagined the creature pulling himself out onto the bank of the river to sun himself. He shuddered at the thought.
The Panther emerged again.
Mintikwa considered the god’s words. He had no idea how the river could provide for them if there were no food in the river.
The Panther lurched backward and settled into the water. Again steam rose skyward.
Mintikwa shouted above the loud sizzling of the water.
“What do you mean the answer is in the river? How can that be?”
“You know better than anyone,” Underwater Panther said. “You have already prepared the way.”
“Me?” Mintikwa asked.
“You,” the Panther said. “Mintikwa.”
All at once, without any further coaxing, the solution finally hit him. He felt relief mixed with trepidation, considering the idea of trying to convince the people of what he now knew.
