window of the aging trailer home and peered into
solid black night. The ocean, only fifty feet away, was
impossible to see. Rain needled her face. Suddenly the
wind shifted; fingers of cold air darted through the open
window, scooping and scattering the pile of freshly typed
pages to the floor. Struggling to hold down what was left
of the stack and at the same time close the window, Slakum
muttered. "Damn the rain, damn these people, damn
this isolation!"
For six days the tiny island village of Awah had been
cut off from the world. Fog hanging in the passes meant
no seaplanes and that meant no food in the store and
worse, no mail!
"The mail", she chuckled dryly. Incredible how important
it had become. Like some pigeon in a psych experiment,
she imagined herself trekking back and forth to
the post office. Day after day, back and forth on any
pretext she'd heard a plane, like the pigeon pecking endlessly.
At least she could talk with the postmistress.
That is, until today. Walking through the door, gum
boots wet and squeaking on the muddy floor, Slakum
saw a hand printed sign, "NO MAIL YET TODAY". The
postmistress sat in the back cozily drinking coffee.
Sighing again, Slakum finished picking up the scattered
pages. Her mind wandered back to the first days of
her marriage to Kadah. He was so gentle, strong and
bright; the first lawyer in his tribe. Leaning against the
kitchen counter she thought how new and clear her sight
had seemed, how beautiful were the snow capped mountains
and the Eagles of Alaska soaring against them.
Everything had seemed so good at first. She was confident
that the ways of her own western tribe would unite
here with these strange ocean people. Shaking her head,
she marveled at her naiveté. Surely Kadah had noticed.
He might have cautioned her.
"Scaga, Scaga" they had called her ... witch doctor.
Praying and purifying in the backyard Sweat Lodge,
they had been mocked by the locals and heard the jeers
at the "primitive practices" of the "outside Indians".
Those taunting voices still rang in her ears. The drunks
and Christians calling names escalated to such crowds
that Kadah feared for their safety and came home early
from work one day and took down the lodge. Now only
the bare ground remained. The black hole that had been
the fire pit stared like a sad eye up into the stormy
night.
Now Slakum jumped. Rubbing her chilled arms, she
prayed aloud, ''The Fire! God don't let the fire be out".
Kadah was virtually marooned on the mainland, and the
kindling and wood supply was nearly used up. The few
fragments that remained were soaking wet. The fire
must not die!
Hurrying to the woodstove, Slakum dragged the flannel
cuff of her shirt down over her hand, grabbed the hot
iron handle and threw open the stove door. Plenty of
coals left, 'she groaned with relief. Just then, a gust of
wind burst down the stove pipe spewing a cloud of ash
and dust out the door enveloping her. Coughing and
sputtering, she slammed it ... too late! Smoke alarm
buzzed its wasp voice through the hall and into the room
of the sleeping children. Seizing a big piece of cardboard,
Slakum ran through the trailer opening doors and frantically
waving at the smoke. "Please don't let the kids
wake up," she implored.
For days Slakum waited for a chance to write. Seven
years of course work and research now only weeks from
deadline. If only it weren't for village chores - packing
wood, hauling water, washing clothes by hand. All the
things easy down south were impossible here. She put
the cardboard down and listened. The alarm was silent,
tiny snores were peaceful in the bedroom.
"Only one more chore and I can get back to my writing"
she thought and jumped into her storm coat. Stepping
outside, she ran through the rain to the wood pile. "Good,
there is a big wet chunk left." It could smolder until
morning. She wrestled the slimy cedar into her arms and
turned to go back inside. She screamed! Someone stood
only a few feet away!
Slakum croaked, "Who's there!" Crunching footsteps in
the gravel brought the figure nearer. Oh, it was a child!
Wet shoulders were slouched and small hands thrust
deep in her pockets. The little girl came closer. Slakum
saw she was trembling .
"Ama! What are you doing out in this weather?" Looking
into the tear-filled eyes of the child, she knew. Her
parents must be drinking again.
"The kids are sleeping, dear." Slakum fought her desire
to send the child away. Quickly she added, ''but you better
come in and dry off". Ama nodded and led the way up
the steps. Inside Slakum started jabbing the logs onto
the fire angrily. Impatient, fretting over this delay in her
work, she fumed. "Damn these people". Looking at the
child, cold, wet, probably sad, she thought and felt
ashamed and loving. She heard herself say. "Do you want
some hot cocoa?"
"All right", the small voice chirped. There seemed to be
a new, little tone of hope in it.
As the crackle of cedar fire filled the room in bright
warmth, the cocoa came to a bubble. Slakum poured two
cups and the two of them sat down on the couch. In a
while the little girl began to talk.
They're having Bible study group down at the Church
nearly every night now, and Mrs. Pach is so nice to me
and the rest of the ladies too...
Images of the stout missionary wife filled Slakum's mind
and muffled Ama's voice which seemed far away. The
last thing this child needed was those vipers on her
case...
Adopted at birth, Ama had been given to a couple with
drinking problems. When she was nearly four, the couple
divorced. It was then that the doctors noticed the hazing
of the girl's right eye. The cancer took the vision completely.
And the surgery which saved her life left her with
one glass eye. Recently the mother had remarried, this
time to the biggest drunk in town. With no income for
doctors, the child had to continue wearing an eye fitted
for her more than two years earlier. The other day, Ama
said, she'd turned to see what her teacher wanted and the
eye fell out right in front of everyone. The village kids
squealed with glee. They hated Ama, for her early years
in the city, for her differences and her gentleness. They
were on her like a pack of dogs at the slightest chance.
Today, Slakum had looked out the window when Ama
turned to face her tormenters. Charging into a group of
three, the little girl fought wildly. She lost the fight and
had a big bruise on her face to show for it. But she had
fought. "Maybe now", thought Slakum, "maybe now,
they'll leave her alone". But she doubted it.
Just then, the child's voice pulled Slakum back.
Mrs. Pach says if I pray to Christ and go to Church we
could get saved. My Mom and Dad could quit drinking
and I wouldn't have to worry any more. Sometimes I'm so
afraid for my Mom. She says, 'Ama, don't every leave me.
I'll die if you go'. And I don't know what to do. I wish I
could go live with my first Dad down in Portland. He
wants me to live with him and he's good to me. But I'm
afraid for my Mom. I tell her, "Mom, get a divorce. You
and Al could still be friends. I'll stay with you".
I'm afraid something is going to happen... I can't sleep
at night. They're always fighting ... I prayed like they
told me, but... Tonight they're really fighting. AI pushed
my Mom against the wall and said if he caught her again
... And that's when I left the house. I walked up here,
Beach Way and found this feather. See, it looks just like
yours, so I thought I would come here.
Looking down at the white Eagle feather clutched in the
child's hand, Slakum choked up.
"Ama, come here. Let me hug you," she said. Holding
the girl in her arms, Slakum continued. "Ama, anytime
things are bad at home come over here". She wiped
Ama's tears. Pointing to the feather, she said,
This feather you found, it's really good, Ama.
Indian way, we know it is a gift from Creator.
It's a way of letting you know you are loved.
Most of us wait a long time for such a wonderful
blessing.
You are so young, yet you have this. What can it mean?
The woman and child talked on. Slakum sensed that
the child needed something more. Suddenly she remember
the photographs that had arrived on the last mail
plane.
"Ama, would you like to see the pictures I took of the
rock carvings at Blue Mountain?"
The child nodded. Searching through the piles of books
and papers, Slakum began to think... The petroglyphs.
It was the only real work Slakum had found in the village.
Looking for connections, she had finally found this
ancient, holy site. Most local people had never heard of
the rocks and fewer had ever seen them. That first trip,
as her skiff neared the site, chills swept over Slakum's
body. Without thinking she jumped from the boat,
offered tobacco and feverishly started to chalk in and
photograph. There were hundreds of designs. But there
was barely time for two visits, when fall winds and
storms made the trip over open ocean impossible. Now
only the handful of photographs remained to show for
the high hopes she had had on this discovery.
Shuffling through the photographs, a wave of shame
swept over Slakum. "How dumb can I be?" she thought.
The single most prominent feature of the carvings was,
EYES! In her excitement, Slakum dropped a picture.
Instantly Ama snatched it up. She looked at the photo
for a long time, then asked, "What's this one?"
For the first time Slakum saw a new aspect of the
carving. Photographed upside down, she had not recognized
the design until now. It was Raven with the sun in
his beak! "Anmean, ahmeah," she whispered excitedly,
something is happening! Shaking with a sense of the
presence of spirits, Slakum explained:
Ama... this One is sacred. There is a very old old story
behind it. You see, at one time, the world was in blackness.
The only things that broke the Quiet were waves
pounding argillite shores and the whisper of cockles on
the beach.
In this place, Raven created human beings and the
loneliness was ended. But People were like shadows moving
in the darkness... they were afraid and unhappy.
Raven saw this and wondered how to help the people.
But Raven is a trickster so naturally he thought of a plan
to get light away from the man who had it.
Changing himself into a nettle floating in the stream,
He was swallowed by the Man's daughter, when she came
to drink. Later, she gave birth to a beautiful boy, who was
really Raven. The man, who was no Raven's Grandfather,
came to love the boy very much and really spoiled him.
So when Raven began fussing for the box that the sun
was in, the Grandfather finally relented and let the boy
play with it.
Slowly Raven child slid the lid from the box. LIGHT,
wondrous Light radiated out, penetrating the darkness.
Quickly, the boy changed back into Raven. He seized
the orb of Light in his beak and Flew to the smoke-hole.
But the opening was narrow; he got stuck for a few
moments, and that's how Raven who was white to begin
with, turned Black... from the soot and smoke.
When Raven broke free from the smoke-hole, he flew
with the Light to the beach. Taking the disc, he broke it
on a rock and threw the pieces to the sky. They became
stars, Moon and Sun.
And that's what this rock picture is about. Raven has
two different Eyes on this carving because he Sees two
different ways. One is the regular way and the other is
the Spirit way. Raven is a Spirit Being.
Ama jumped up from the couch. "And me, what about
me? I have two different Eyes! Do you think I could see
like that some time?"
Fighting tears, Slakum answered.
"Child, there is no doubt. There hasn't been a traditional
healer here in a long time. Maybe through you, the
People will See Good again... "
The child interrupted.
"Can I use your phone to call my Dad in Portland? I've
been trying for three days but couldn't get an answer at
his house. I'll call collect."
Slakum nodded assent. As Ama began to dial, Slakum
picked up the cocoa cups, and walked back into the
kitchen. Washing up the dishes, she could hear Ama say:
"Dad? Dad? I'm so glad I got you ... I tried for three
days ... Dad, do you know what my Eyes mean? They
mean I might be a Medicine person some day!"
Hearing the joy in the child's voice, Slakum's heart
filled with pride. She mentally patted herself on the back
for finding the exact right solution to the child's problems.
But just as she began to enjoy her glory, she heard
Ama say:
"How do I know? Dad, this OLD woman told me."
Hands suspended in sudsy water, Slakum heard a
strange sound ... her own laughter! OLD WOMAN?!
Here she was, at 37, filled with triumph and pride - and
this little girl had burst her bubble fast! Slakum laughed
till her shoulders shook. Tears ran down her face . . .
"Raven, you got me good this time!" she chuckled.
Hearing the receiver click down into the phone,
Slakum grinned, composed herself and rounded the corner
into the living room. "Well, "she asked, "What did your
Dad have to say?"
Ama answered: "Well, I told him about the Raven rock
and the Eyes and how I might be a spiritual person."
"What did your Dad say?" Slakum queried.
"He said, 'You know I believe it.''' Ama pulled on her
jacket.
"Where are you going, Ama?"
"I'm going home. They'll be asleep now". Ama grabbed
her feather and the two stepped out into a still night. The .
rain and wind were gone. Bright stars glittered in an
inky sky.
As Ama walked away, Slakum handed the photo to
her. "Keep it; it belongs with you."
Slakum waited and listened to the small feet slapping
the wet earth of the road. When she heard Ama's front
door slam, Slakum climbed back up to the trailer. Standing
on the top step, thinking about the night and her
unexpected promotion to "Elder", she thought she heard
the words of Nana, Kadah's 100 year-old Grandmother:
And the Way the Old People used to tell it
He was a wonderful Bird!
“And I believe it," she said to herself and the cold listening,
night air.
~ A special thanks to Mary Tall Mountain for her
editing and to Viola Morrison, Haida Elder for her help.
