Keeper'n Me (28 page)

See, our way's simple. Us we see power in everythin' except ourselves. Them trees an' rocks an' things are all blessed with power comin' in. Us we gotta look for it. So we go to the land an' see where the real power is. Get humble an' respectful in the middle of it all. Pray'n ask for help. It's the start of findin' your own power. Seein' you got none but knowin' where to go to connect up to it. Simple, eh? If you ain't got no power you gotta connect up to the power source. Plug in. Hmmpfh. Don't ask me where that came from. Me I can't even plug in at home. Some of us Indyuns ain't never gonna have no power on accounta the hydro lines don't reach that far. Heh, heh, heh
.

That's why me I say the land is a feelin'. You go out there and stand in the middle of it an' you're gonna feel it. You're gonna feel it. That's why all them city people are always headin' to the country every chance they get. Somethin' deep inside 'em's hungry for that feelin'. Lost it lots of them and want it back. Us we got it all the time. Learn it early. Keep it inside us. Then no
matter where we go we always got that feelin' in us. City, town, don't matter. We got that connected-up feelin' workin' inside us. That feelin' of power that we looked for an' found
.

They were waiting around on the dock trying to look casual when I started back across White Dog Lake. I made real good time coming back so it was about an hour before sundown but they were still hanging around trying not to look like they were scanning the lake every minute or so. Keeper'n Ma, my brothers and sister, Gilbert, Charlie and even old Doc Tacknyk were crowded onto that little dock. By the time I reached them they were all smiles.

“Couldn't tell if it was you or not,” my uncle Charlie was saying. “Kinda got skinny out there. Maybe we shoulda give you a couple of hand grenades.”

“What the hell for?” I asked.

“Easier huntin',” he said, to wild laughter all around.

“Doesn't look all too malnourished to me,” Doc said, reaching down to ease the canoe against the dock. “Must have been the ten pounds of groceries he carried in with him!”

“Yeah, amazin' how long that frozen fish stays froze,” my uncle Charlie said, winking at me as he reached for my pack.

“Didn't have no frozen fish,” Ma said, kinda pouty-like. “My boy knows where to camp to have regular food all the time, that's all. Where'd you set up anyway, my boy? Downtown Minaki?”

Everyone laughed but I could tell they were all pretty relieved that I'd made it back on time and okay. Keeper was grinning away and letting the family pretty much have their greetings first and he winked at me too while Jane grabbed me up in another of her big wraparound hugs.

“Prouda ya, bro',” she said and wiped a little tear from her eye.

“Yep. Bagga antlers. Lookin' pretty jake,” Jackie said before hugging me too.

I asked, “What's jake?”

“Jake's the cool, hip, together, you know?” Stanley said, rubbing his hand through my hair. “Lookin' jake's the way you wanna look when you go out on the town. Except maybe right now you'd consider havin' a bath before you hit town tonight!”

“Hmmpfh,” Ma said, hugging me and giving me a real big kiss on the cheek. “Nuffa this talk. Boy could use hot tea, stew an' bannock, an' me I got some goin' right now.”

We laughed and walked into Ma's where a big pot of stew was simmering on the stove and a bannock the size of a seat cushion was waiting on the table. There wasn't much talk for a while as we all filled up bowls and headed out to where Jackie had a fire going right away. As I looked around at those people I sure was glad to be home and real grateful to have been met by all of them.

“Did ya find it?” Jackie asked, over the rim of his teacup.

“Hey-yuh. Right where you said it would be.”

“How was it? Standin'?”

“Kaween. Down. Not much left anymore really. Just a big pile of rotted logs with trees and stuff growing up out of it.”

“Figgers.”

“Someday I wanna go there too me,” Ma said, looking out across the lake towards that first portage. “Someday maybe you take me there, my boy?”

“Sure, Ma. I'll be back there lots.”

“How did it feel, Garnet, being away off by yourself for the first time?” Doc Tacknyk asked. “I know the first time I was out there alone I felt very intimidated.”

“Yeah. Me too at first. That first night felt like I was a thousand miles away from anybody. After that though it was okay. Felt like home.”

“Was your home,” Uncle Charlie said. “Long time ago when you were just crawlin' around. Couldn't even talk then. Just howled lots you.”

“Hey-yuh,” said my uncle Joe through a big mouthful of stew and bannock. “Always gonna be Raven land there. Our footprints all over that area. Now yours are there too. It's your home again now.”

“Well, that's how it felt, all right. Like I'd been there not all that long ago. In fact, I could almost swear that I knew where I was going all the time. Like I knew what and where everything was. Weird.”

“Not weird,” Ma said. “Not weird. First thing you learned from your grampa an' your father was that land.”

I sat down on a log with Jane, who put her arm
around me and her head against my chest. Stanley and Jackie came across and sat down there too looking at Ma, who was sitting on her favorite stump with a big mug of tea.

“First present you ever got from them two was the land, my boy. See, us we were always fightin' over who was gonna take care of you when you were still a carryin'-around baby. Us women, we wanted to be around you all the time, breastfeedin' an all that. Me'n your granny'n your aunties we wanted you close. But them two wanted you around 'em too. So we'd all the time be fightin' over who got to take care of you for the day. Lotta the time they won out.

“Your grampa or your dad'd strap you to their chest an' head off into the bush to work the line. You'd be all wrapped up warm'n safe in that cradleboard an' they'd walk around all day with you on their chest. All that time they were walkin' through that bush they'd be talkin' to you even though you were so small and couldn't understand nothin'. Still they talked to you.

“When they seen a bear in the bush they'd tell you his name. Mukwa. Then they'd tell you all about that mukwa. Where he went, what he done all day, what he liked to eat'n where you should look for him. Everythin'. An' they'd call your name out to that bear too before he disappeared. They'd say, this is my son. His name's Garnet Raven an' he's Anishanabe. Then they'd tell you that the bear was your brother and you didn't have to be afraid of him. Same thing with fox, raccoon, weasel.
Introduced you to each other. Same thing with water, tree, rock, fish, everythin' out there. Plants, insects, all of it. Told you all of it was your relative an' the land was always gonna be your home.

“Introduced you to the world that way, my boy. Told you everythin' an' introduced you to all of it. So that whenever you went there anytime in your life, you'd never feel like a stranger. Days'n days they carried you around till you met everythin'. They introduced you to the world. Gave it to you as a gift.

“But even though you were too young to understand, somewhere inside you it stuck. Never went away all this time. Reason you could see all that'n know all about it. Same with all you kids. That's the way we did things back then. It's our tradition. Introduce you to the world. It's our way.”

No one said a word for the longest time. Right then and right there I chose to believe it and believe that it took an awful lotta love for someone to take the time to offer the world as a gift. To take you around and introduce you to it all. Explain it, give it size, give it direction. And my heart swelled knowing I was loved that much. Still was too, judging by the way everyone was looking at me.

“Wow,” said Jane. “I didn't know that, Ma. That's really cool.”

“Cool ain't the word, sister,” Stanley said. “Strong maybe.”

“Dad told me about it one time,” Jackie said, looking up at the sky. “Told me it was what I should do one day
if I ever had any kids of my own. Told me it was my responsibility.”

“That's right,” Keeper said really quietly, “that's right. It's your responsibility. First, though, it's your responsibility to get to know that world yourself. Reach out, touch it, feel it, get to know it, be a part of it. Find yourself in it. Find it in you. The only time you can give it away's when it's part of you. That's what our way's all about. Feelin' that universe inside and givin' it to someone else sometime.”

“That's very beautiful,” Doc Tacknyk said, “and very, very true. Makes me wish I was an Indian.”

“Hmmpfh,” Keeper said. “Some Indyun you'd make. First time we had you out to smoke fish you had to ask me which end you were supposed to light!”

We all laughed. As I sat there on that log with my brothers and sister, looking across at the fire throwing big shadows on the face of our mother, I thought of how something that started way back in that bush a long time ago had been rekindled like a fire inside me and I knew suddenly that in our own ways, in our own time, we all of us are firekeepers like Keeper talks about, lighting the fires of love and home and family for each other. Firekeepers. A responsibility and an honor.

“Ever hear what happened the first time Keeper cleaned a fish?” Doc was saying.

“No,” Jackie said. “What happened the first time Keeper cleaned a fish?”

“He started crying because he couldn't find the ears and he wanted to make sure he scrubbed behind them too!”

Would have made a good Indian after all, that Doc.

“It's a gift,” Keeper was saying the next morning after we'd prayed and sung and I told him about the eagle feather. “Big gift. Bird wants to honor you for what you done there. Left that for you to remind you all the time what you done. Help you remember the teachin's that come from it.”

I was busy getting breakfast ready and he was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the stove, smoking his pipe and watching me. When I caught his eye he winked at me and smiled real big.

“So … see anythin' special out there?” he said, sly-like and slow.

“Kaween. Nothin' special.” I handed him his dish full of bacon and eggs.

“Hmmpfh. Thought maybe you seen somethin'.”

“Like what?”

“Don't know. Somethin'.”

“You mean, like a vision?”

“Maybe. Vision. Dream. Strange animal. Somethin'.”

“Well, I did have a kind of strange dream one night. Night before I did the ceremony.”

“Hmmpfh,” he said with a mouthful of bannock. “Kinda dream?”

While he ate I told him about the dream of the eagles. He watched me all through the telling and his
eyes moved between surprise and understanding. When he finished he relit his pipe and rocked slowly in his chair while I finished my breakfast. It was quiet for a long time.

“So what do you think it means?”

“Hmmpfh. Hard sometimes to tell with dreams. Sometimes you gotta live with 'em for a long time, goin' back over 'em and over 'em. More gets shown that way. Deeper meanin's, bigger teachin's, more messages. Still, there's somethin' big there. Somethin' big.”

“Like what?”

“Well, eagle's a strong symbol. Water's a strong symbol. Paddlin' alone's a strong sign too. Lots there. Gonna take you long time to sort it all out for yourself, but dreams work that way. Always gonna be more there the longer you look. But here's what I think one big part is.

“See, you went out there lookin' to link up with yourself. Go home, find somethin' there maybe. Somethin' you been missin' you don't even know the name of. Somethin' you figure you lost might never get back. So you find that old cabin. Sit there. Thoughts go way back. Kinda start feelin' part of that old cabin even though it's only a pile of logs now. Kinda feelin' like home inside. Fall asleep, start dreamin'. When you were runnin' at the start was like your life before you come home. Always runnin' lookin' for shelter. Someplace safe. That canoe's kinda like your shelter. Our way. The Indyun way. Anishanabe. What you always were. You found it here an' you're workin' hard at lookin' for more. Feelin' kinda
safe but wantin' more. The calm water means you're trustin' your surroundings. Me, us, this place. That's how you are when the eagles let you find them.”

“Let me find 'em?”

“Hey-yuh. Let you find 'em. See, us we're always thinkin' we're discoverin' something out there. Truth is nature's allowin' us to see her secrets. Them birds were waitin' till you found 'em. Wanted to give you a message.”

“I didn't hear no message.”

“Two eagles turnin' into an old man and old woman means the grandfathers'n grandmothers are lookin' out for you. Long as you stay in that canoe they're always gonna show you which direction to take. That's why they flew off one way together. You gotta live with that dream for a while, try'n remember which direction they flew. Go talk to a teacher then. They'll tell you all about that direction. What it means. What kinda work you gotta do. What kinda journey you gotta take.”

“Grandfathers'n grandmothers?”

“Hey-yuh. See, that old cabin gave you back big sense of where you come from. Never had that before. Got a little bit from bein' around here but not so much as you got there. Grandfathers'n grandmothers mean them that went before. Ancestors. Spirit world ancestors. Always lookin' out for you now on accounta you were brave enough to go look for them'n yourself too. Also means tradition. The old way. Indyun way. Follow tradition where it leads and you'll never be lost again. That's what it means.”