Red Willow River

By Yehati Antone

Pronunciation Guide:

• Skanio - Ska-knee-oh
• Hawimem - Ha-wee-mem
• Yawaksis - Yah-wuks-sis

Skanio ran along the frozen lake with the other kids, laughing and jumping around as the delicate snowflakes crushed and melted against warm skin. It was another day of frost and light snow in the village of Red Willow, the skies dull and cold. The wind blew softly but coldly. A firm reminder that winter wasn’t over yet. Skanio loved this time of year, since he could throw the little snowballs he created at his friends, go hunting with his father, and go dogsledding. The other kids always liked this time of year as well, but something felt off about this winter.

Skanio came to an abrupt stop when he felt someone — or something — blow past him. He whipped around but saw no one, nothing but the flakes of snow and the frosted woods along the lake. It became eerily quiet for a moment when his friends stopped laughing. One of his friends, Hawimem, came up beside him but before she could say anything, a loud voice echoed:

“Children! Come on, it’s getting cold!” It was one of the mothers, the one no one wanted to mess with. The butterfly dancer with the colourful shawl, but everyone knew she wasn’t as nice as her shawl looked.

Hawimem tugged at Skanio’s arm, “Come on, Ska,” she urged. “I don’t think you want to collect firewood when it’ll be really freezing tonight.”

Skanio nodded and laughed. “I’d just freeze like the lake, I swear.” He turned away from the woods and walked back with her, hurrying up a little as the snow started to dampen his hair. They bid farewell and Skanio rushed into his family teepee, where warmth was waiting with open arms.

“Is it cold out there, Fox?” his mother asked, walking over and taking his damp fur robe off.

“Oh yeah,” he said, slowing his heavy breathing. “I’m so glad it's warm in here.” His mother took off the rest of the furs: the leg warmers, the pelt hat, and everything else that would make him overheat in the warmth of the teepee. Skanio gave his mother a quick kiss and went to sit down next to his father, who was cutting up cooked bison for supper.

“Help cut this up, will you, Fox?” his father said with a small smile, moving aside so Skanio could finish. “I need to get more firewood.” He gestured to the fire, which was slowly losing its life. “You remember how to be safe with that knife?”

Skanio nodded. “Yeah. It’s cold out there, Dad.” His father nodded as he pulled on his heavy fur robe and started to step out of the teepee. “Oh Dad!” His father poked his head back inside. “I felt something weird out there, like someone shoving me but there was no one there.”

“Hush, Skanio,” his mother piped up. “Let your father go.”

“I felt it though!” He tried to say something more to his father but he was already gone. His mother came over to him and patted his head. “Mom, it’s true. I —”

“Hush, my boy. Cut up the supper.” She kissed his forehead. “If it bothers you in sleep, we’ll smudge and go see The Dreamkeepers.”

Skanion nodded, though his tongue was full of words he wanted to get out. He pushed it down however and picked up the knife, beginning to cut up the rest of the meat. It could really be nothing, he supposed.

The night went on as usual: supper, smudge, storytelling, and finally settling down for sleep. Sleep didn’t come very easy to Skanio, as he expected. He laid under the blanket of warmth, its arms nice but nearly suffocating. His sister kicked him occasionally, having a wonderful sleep despite her tossing and turning. He tried to count deer in his head, but that only kept him awake.

It took minutes, maybe even hours for him to fall into a fitful sleep. He tossed and turned, sweating under the fur, head throbbing from the heat. No nice dreams came to him that night. The Creator sent his spirits down to mess with him and it ended in a nightmare where Skanio was frozen while oversized wolves jumped around him. A girl was watching all this from afar; a girl dressed in the colours of the river and snow who looked soaked and exhausted. Skanio tried to call out to her, but his mouth wouldn’t work as his tongue felt heavy. The atmosphere was so wrong, everything felt hot and fuzzy, but also so realistic. It was almost too real. When he woke up, he was disoriented, sweat soaked, and his throat was scratchy.

The morning went on as any morning did: breakfast, a run around the frosted fields, and preparation for a hunt. When Skanio’s discomfort was noticed by his mother however, the morning shifted. She took his hand into hers and took him to see The Dreamkeepers.

The Dreamkeepers were in a teepee of their own, a bit further away from the families as they kept the spirits and dreams happy and home in the Spirit World. They were two sisters, one older and one younger. They knew the meanings of dreams that were passed down from their father, the previous keeper with his brother.

Their teepee was dimmer than most with cedar and sage burning low in the abalone shells. It made Skanio feel calmer and like he could fathom his dream and explain it. When he saw the sisters, shrouded in their mystery and shadow and the moon, they smiled.

“What has your boy brought us, Yawaksis?” the older dreamkeeper asked, her colourful shawl draped across her shoulders; a shower of reds and yellows and blues across her.

“He hasn’t told me yet, but I can see it on his face that he’s shaken,” Yawaksis, his mother, said. “Will you two help?”

The younger keeper chimed in, chipper despite the shadows she wore. “Of course!” She came over to Skanio and bent down to his level. “Now dear, what troubles you?”

Skanio looked at the ground as he explained, now feeling a bit foolish. Even so, he told The Dreamkeepers. Telling them about the wind that wasn’t wind, the fitful rest, the dream of wolves, the river covered girl in his dream. The two women listened and so did his mother. They listened intently, nodding and frowning deeply as he got to the part about the exhausted girl. When he finished, his mother had turned away, looking at the walls of the teepee while the two keepers frowned with sadness in their eyes, the younger one now standing with her sister again.

“Do you know what it means?” he asked after a moment of silence.

The older keeper nodded solemnly and cleared her throat. “Yes, I know what it means,” she replied softly. “A spirit is hungry and I know who she is.” She turned to her younger sister, almost asking for permission before turning back to Skanio. “A girl who looks soaked and exhausted? I know her. That was… She drowned in the lake after falling through a hole in the lake for ice fishing. It wasn’t a big hole, but the ice around it had cracked, and…” She shook her head. “She was the Wolf Mother’s daughter. You would’ve only been a baby when she was taken to the Spirit World.”

Skanio was quiet for a moment. He knew about the spirits and knew the Wolf Mother; That was his grandmother and that girl would’ve been his aunt. He turned to his mother. She wouldn’t look at any of them.

“You knew…?” he asked hesitantly.

His mother wiped her face and looked back at him, her eyes teary. She knelt down and pulled him into her arms, her head on his small shoulder. Skanio hugged her tightly, his heart breaking to see his mother cry. The keepers spoke quietly to each other and the younger one left. His mother didn’t let go of him and Skanio didn’t let go of her.

“We will host the feast tomorrow to send her back to The Creator,” the older Dreamkeeper said, and when they were ready, Skanio and his mother left the teepee.

The next day was a difficult one. Families gathered around Skanio and his family, bringing their own dishes to the feast to help. Hawimem waved at Skanio from where she stood with her family and Skanio smiled before pressing close to his mother. His mother looked down at him, smiling despite the relapse of grief in her eyes.

“Thank you, my boy,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You heard your aunt’s restlessness and listened to her.” She looked into his eyes. “She would have loved you.”

Skanio smiled and hugged her, and over her shoulder, a girl stood; river coloured and shrouded in winter. Standing by the lake was his aunt, no longer exhausted. He smiled at her and she smiled back.