Lily
It was late in the afternoon as Jesse neared Chiloquin, and her renewed sense of confidence and boldness about coming back suddenly vanished and she wanted a detour. Coming back felt like the new coat that symbolized her renewed self image, but the stiffness would need time to soften and mold around her body. She turned down the road to Levi's. Based on her experience this was probably not the place to go for encouragement, but her options at this point were limited.
"Hello, again." She said cheerlessly as she approached him where he stood, outside one of the huts. Without a word, but looking intently into her eyes as if reading something, he motioned her to go into his hut. Jesse should have felt excited after her previous failures to connect with him, but she was tired and just wanted to rest. After several minutes, he joined her and said, "Please, sit." There were two large rugs on the ground and a chair. Jesse chose the rug and crossed her legs waiting for him to speak. He sat on the other rug, picked up some beads and started working them. He did this for several minutes while they sat in silence. Then his hands stopped moving and he looked at Jesse. Again, reading something. Then, without any sort of prelude, he began to talk for what would be hours. Jesse did not interupt once.
"It was before the railroad came into the village. The land was rich then, untouched by human hands of any kind. Rivers overflowed with fish, beaver and water fowl, and the forest still innocent of the hostility that would destroy it faster than the chain saws could cut it down. It was a small village at the head of E-UKSHI, the Williamson River, and it was very poor. Much sickness in the families caused much sadness. One family thought it was because they had too many women and not enough men. They had six girls and no boys, but they were skilled at making baskets, tools, beaded necklaces and clothing that the father traded too often for white man's whiskey. He said it was the only good thing that came from the white man. The mother died during the birth of her last child and caring for the family fell to the oldest daughter, Lily. Lily tended to the chores of the family dutifully and spent much time with her grandfather, a true conjurer, who saw early her powers as a shaman. Lily would tell her grandfather of the visions that came to her dreams about their people joining with the white man, but he cautioned her to keep this to herself. Lily's grandfather urged her to spend time in the mountains alone asking the spirits for the power that was within her. She watched and listened to her kinsmen speak of how life was being taken away because of the white man, and Lily would argue and tell them to be peaceful. Her father and the other men would laugh at her, and she would furiously march off into the mountains to sing and pray her fury away. At different times of the year, she began spending much time in the mountains, and one day her grandfather asked her about her time in the woods. She could not lie to him and told him that she had met a white man trapping beaver on the river, and they talked together. Her grandfather listened patiently as Lily told him about the bond that formed between these two unlikely companions. At first, she had been afraid of him until she saw that he, too, was afraid of her, and it seemed sad to her that for no reason they were afraid of each other. She sang to the spirit of the beaver as the man checked his traps along the bank, and asked the beaver to tell her if he was a good man. One day as she sat on the rocks downstream from the trapper, an old beaver swam toward her on the bank where she sat, and lifted its head out of the water, looking at Lily. It then turned away, swimming across the river and went directly into one of the traps. The trapper was watching from upstream and when he got to the trap with the old beaver inside, he set it free. From that moment on, Lily and the trapper became friends, teaching each other their language, talking about their lives, their people, and their dreams. Lily recalled to him the stories her mother, grandmother, and the other women told about animals and spirits, and sang for him many of the songs of her people. The trapper believed Lily as only her grandfather did of the visions in her dreams of the life to come for her people, and shared their concerns that hatred and bitterness would rule their hearts and lives. Each would bring news of the Indian-White man conflicts, and they both feared for the future, holding onto the sacred temple of the mountains with all their might. They prayed together, even though he did not know her god and she did not know his, but they knew there was a god between them and so somewhere a bridge. They saw it was their hearts that made this bridge, linking them, joining them and bringing them together in ways that were beyond what either of their worlds had shown them. This went on for a few years and as Lily blossomed into young womanhood, their bond grew in a new direction. Lily asked her grandfather not to tell her father or anyone, and the grandfather agreed, but cautioned Lily that she would be expected to marry soon and this trapper would not please her father. Despite her grandfather's warning, she
layed with him. She did not care. They loved each other and he wanted to take her away with him, but Lily felt responsible for the younger children and asked him to wait. She longed for the freedom his life offered, but felt bound to the ties of her family. Her visions of prophesy continued and she tried to tell her father what she saw so he could prepare his people, but he would not listen. She told him that they would become angry and lose their spirit and blame the white man for this, but it would not be the fault of the white man. She told him the white man would take over the land and ravage it, but if our people did not forgive this they would become the same as the white man: without honor. She never tired of arguing and took her frustration into the mountains where she found peace, harmony and love with the trapper, as they called on life itself for the healing of both their people. One day she did not return to the village as usual to prepare the evening meal, and the next day she still had not returned. There was much concern in her family and the grandfather told them to stay in the village, and he would go look for her. Late that afternoon, he found his granddaughter sitting on a rock at a stream's edge, chanting while she watched a horse that stood in the midst of what appeared to be a small camp on the other bank. The tears in his granddaughter's eyes and the words of her song told him the story. Over and over she sang, "nu' kam tchi'k mish shleat": I wish I could see you again. The old shaman sat on the ground next to the rock with his granddaughter until the next morning when she stopped singing, and crumpled into a ball of despair and screamed at the spirits. After many hours, the sobbing ceased, and the three walked solemnly back to the village. Lily did not speak to anyone except her grandfather for months, and stayed inside the hut, not sharing in the family chores or helping the other women in the village. The trapper's horse stayed close by her hut at all times, and the shaman forbid anyone to take it away. As Lily lay on her mat day after day, she noticed changes happening to her body that she did not understand. She described these changes to her grandfather and he shook his head sadly, and told her she had a child in her womb. When Lily's father found out he became enraged, and tried to force her out of the village because there was no man to take care of her and she was bringing one more mouth to feed. And it was a white man. Heated arguing went on for months and soon the baby came. The birth was difficult and painful. Afterward, Lily fell into a deep sleep. She woke up alone and called out to her grandfather. "Wa' ka: baby!? Wa'ka!?". He began to sing. She was weak but frantic, and ran screaming from the lodge looking for her baby. Her father told her the baby had died, but she did not believe him because she could see the child alive in her mind. She pleaded with her grandfather to help her understand, but he could only sit with her, singing, deep in trance. The two stayed together for many days inside the lodge and would allow no one inside. He never said a word and she cried until there was nothing left inside of her. After a time, life went on, but Lily was no longer the vibrant,
mischievous, youthful maiden who argued with anyone and took care of everyone. A year or so later, her father arranged for her to marry and she surprised everyone by calmly agreeing. She lost two babies while they were still in her womb and she never shed a tear. One night, she came to her grandfather and whispered to him that it was time for her to go, and she would not be back. He nodded and began to sing. She said quietly, "Weash a-i nu kshukatkal": I carry my offspring with me, for Lily knew she had a child in her womb again and wanted to raise it in the solitude of the mountains, on Yainakshi, Saddle Mountain, the way she and the trapper had planned. He had robbed her of one child, her daughter, who now belonged to life, and all she wanted was to raise her son in peace, away from him. There was no peace in her village. So much hatred and traditions no longer honored. She would show her son the truth of his people: their rituals and traditions; the language; how to live in harmony with nature and open a path to his heart that he could follow in his own time. Lily packed the trapper's horse and began the long journey, high up into the mountains, singing her spirit songs, knowing that she would never again see the life and people she cherished with all her heart."
"By the time the boy was five, he could stay overnight in mountain caves to commune with the spirits. Lily would take him walking in the morning, talking to him of the mystical powers within him that could be retrieved through silent communion. They would sing ancient tribal songs as they walked, and by nightfall wherever they happened to be Lily would instruct the boy to talk to the spirits during the night, and in the morning he would see her again." The boy did not know this, but for the first couple of years, Lily hid close enough all night long to hear him, but he never saw her. "After a while when the boy reached about seven, he would come to his mother and tell her, "I must talk to the spirits tonight," and off they would go into the mountains until he chose a place to stay. She taught him about the plant life; how to hunt; dance; make healing remedies; make his own clothing and shelter; and how to speak both his native language and the language of the white man she had learned from the trapper. Sometimes they would travel together on the horse, and watch the rituals of their village from distant hills. She taught him wokas harvesting rituals and the tedious process of preparing the pond lily for food. In the long, cold days and nights of winter, they worked beads together, made baskets and clothing and spent hours telling and re-telling the myths of their people. At other times they would travel to the rocky peaks above the white man's village, and watch them for several days. When the boy was ten, Lily told him it was time for him to prove his shamanic powers by swimming at night into the depths of Giwash e'ush: Crater Lake. Their people considered it a place of power and danger, renowned as a spirit quest site, yet also feared for the dangerous beings that resided in the lake. Lily asked the boy if he was afraid and he replied, ‘Even if a hungry mountain lion eats my body, I am not gone. And if he is not hungry enough to eat me, but plays with me like a squirrel, than I should heal. This does not make me afraid.' Hearing the wisdom in her son's words, Lily knew it was time to prepare him, and after his adventure in Giwas she spent the next two years teaching him the most important lesson she had to give him. Until now, the boy had not felt pain in his heart and he did not understand when she told him that things may happen to him or he may see things that will cause a pain in his heart. And like the mountains he loved and the storms that passed over them, he should accept these things with an open heart. He nodded without understanding. She told him the story of her life over and over again until he could recite it himself, word for word. His father was a good man and he would welcome him if the boy needed anything. His great grandfather should be his first contact in the Indian village, and Lily encouraged her son to follow his advice without question. He would also instruct him how to approach Lily's father, his grandfather. No matter what, Lily reminded him, be peaceful. He was overjoyed to know he had a sister, but she cautioned him that it may take him a long time to find her, maybe never. At first, he was excited when she finally told him he would go to live in the white man's village, for the things he saw there were curious, but he became confused when she warned him not to live with their people. He must be a bridge, like his name, she told him: between two people and two worlds, but he must stand on the side of the bridge that has the greatest support and that side is the white man's. His ways are not perfect she told him, but neither were
theirs. Her final instructions were, "Be with people peacefully. And remember the answer to every question." He said, "Forgive." The time arrived too soon for Lily, but she kept her sorrow to herself. Lily took the boy to the edge of the ridge overlooking the white man's camp, and held him close to her heart for as long as she could bear, then looked deep into his eyes and said, "You are perfectly, perfectly safe and perfectly, perfectly loved," to which he replied, "As are you." He picked up his pack and deftly made his way down the rocky hillside full of anticipation. At the bottom of the hill he heard some voices, and saw people swimming in the river. Lily felt her heart burst open, then break, and silently turned her faithful steed back toward the high mountains. It was many days without him, but she saw him constantly in her mind and her dreams. One morning, as she was working her way across a ridge picking berries, she thought she heard him crying her name and shook her head at her lunacy. But the horse stamped, snorted and whinnied loud as he raised up on his back legs, and Lily saw her child running toward her across the field. He was sobbing and screaming and it took her a long time to quiet him. He placed his hand on his heart and told his mother, "nxa'mka ni^sh": it aches, it hurts me, because he did not see her. He thought maybe he was going to die and the people he lived with did not understand, so he left. She told him he was not going to die, that death did not hurt as much as life, but what he felt was sadness and he needed to let the sadness pass over him like the water over the rocks in the stream. They sat together a while and she told him he must go back. He argued with her and demanded to know why she could not go with him. She said she loved people and there was deep sorrow in her that she could not be with them, but there was no place for her now except in the mountains. He said he did not think she was right, and still angry, left to return to the village." Lily knew she must go deep into the forest where he could not keep coming back to her, or lead anyone else to her, so when the moon rose Lily and her old friend walked slowly by its shadowy light. At the end of the tenth day she stopped, unpacked the horse and curled up into a ball on the warm ground and moaned and sobbed for days. "The boy became a part of the village life, but kept to himself a lot and preferred going into the mountains to pray rather than running around with the other boys. The Indian family that took him in soon realized his shamanic talents, and told him he must keep these quiet because the white man forbids the rituals. He agreed, so his kinsmen came to him for healing and teachings which he provided in secret. He missed his mother so much he thought the pain would never stop, and many times he went back to their camp walking for miles surrounding it, but knew she had moved away. He began to have many feelings that he had never had before, and wished he could talk to someone. He remembered his mother's words and set out in search of his great grandfather. It took him three days to ride there, but late one afternoon he arrived and began asking for his great grandfather. The two greeted each other warmly, then went into the old shaman's lodge, and stayed there together for many hours talking and singing. The old man was relieved the boy was well and glad to know his granddaughter was alive, but concerned that she had chosen to stay apart from people. As the boy began to leave, a man came toward him yelling at him to get out of the village and go back to the white man's world where he belonged. The shaman tried to silence him and the boy realized it was his grandfather. They stood facing each other, the older man red-faced, swaying and screaming, and the boy's heart flooded with more feelings than he knew existed. All the stories his mother told him rushed into his mind: all the pain he now realized she kept deep inside her; all the heartache she bore because of this man, roared up before him like a trapped and wounded grizzly bear. He deserved a slow, merciless death and nothing better. Lily's son had grown into a strong, young man and could easily have killed him. He saw the place in his heart that wanted to do that: to kill this man that had betrayed his own child. He knew even the old shaman could not stop him. A couple of the other men in the village stood nearby, but the boy knew he could finish the man off quickly and this was far more than he deserved. He felt rage, hatred, and disgust for this man and wanted him to pay for all the pain he caused his mother. She had left the people she loved and forsaken her passionate spirit, living in solitude and isolation. The boy would never have believed it if someone would have told him he could feel this way about another creature. He was surprised at the intensity of his rage and saw for the first time in his life that he did not trust his own instincts. The man continued yelling at him while the old shaman tried to quiet him and take him away, but the man was out of his mind. The boy stepped toward the crazy man, his fists tight and his shoulders back, ready to settle the score. The old shaman tried to shield his son from the angry boy, and a few of the other men came forward as the boy approached his grandfather full of a rage he wanted no part of, but held him like a prisoner in his own body. Face to face, Lily's father finally stopped yelling and the two glared at one another with blood in their eyes for only a moment, then the boy said with more peace than he felt, "She forgave you." Then he turned, jumped on his horse and rode off from the village, tears filling his eyes and flying off his face as he raced into the mountains screaming to the gods to take this fury from him. It was years before the boy had any contact with his family again, and then only because his great grandfather left his body for the final time. At the ceremony for the revered shaman, the boy met his father for the first time, and the two men became friends and shared stories about Lily. During their talk, the boy told his father that a few years back he was working on a house outside the village when an old stallion approached him, and stopped a few feet from him. He looked up from his work and the two stared at each other for a few moments, then he realized he knew the horse. It was Lily's. He told his father that his heart became painful and he asked the horse to take him to her, but the horse would not. He stayed up in the mountains for many days after that singing, praying and weeping for his beloved mother who gave her life for him. The man who had been her husband only for a short time shared his grief for he had known Lily since she was a young girl, and he loved her fire and passion. A few years later, Lily's father summoned his grandson to his deathbed, and told him everything he remembered about Lily's first child, the daughter that he gave to a missionary couple traveling through the area. Lily's son listened intently to the old man, and after he finished said, ‘thank you.' It was a long time before he was able to travel to find his half sister, and even longer to follow the bare threads of information the old man had given him. She saw the beads he wore and showed him a tiny beaded anklet she'd had ever since she could remember, and Lily's son told her that her great grandfather had made it and must have put it on her before Lily's father gave her to the missionary couple. They wrote letters to one another for many years until one day her letters stopped coming. Years went by and Lily's son noticed beaver dams forming on the banks along the river where they had not been for decades. That's when he knew. One afternoon, he went out to Plaik'ni Inn and recognized the fire in her eyes. I removed the beads from around my neck and placed them in your mother's hands." It took Jesse several moments to digest his words before her hands flew to her gaping mouth and her eyes filled with tears.
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