Winter of the Wolf Moon

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Two weeks passed. It snowed. I plowed the road. New renters came to stay in the cabins. They drove their snowmobiles on the trails, filling the cold air with noise.

I didn’t spend much time at the Glasgow Inn those two weeks. I chopped some wood. I cleaned up after the snowmobilers. I even got the passenger side window in my truck fixed. Mostly I stayed in my cabin by the woodstove, trying to get warm.

I saw Vinnie’s car by his cabin. But I didn’t see the man himself. Not once.

Until he came knocking on my door. When I opened the door, he was standing there on the walkway I had just shoveled.

“Get your coat on,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

“The hell I am,” I said.

“There’s a ceremony at Garden River,” he said. “She wants you to be there.”

“Who does?”

“Dorothy,” he said. “Who do you think?”

“I thought she was locked away somewhere.”

“She was never locked anywhere,” he said. “She was just getting herself together. Now she’s ready to move on.”

“Where’s she moving on to?” I said. “Last I heard, those DEA agents still wanted to talk to her.”

“They’re not going to,” he said. “She’s not coming back to the United States.”

“She’s in Canada?”

“No, Alex, she’s in Ecuador. Are you coming or not?”

“Take it easy,” I said. I went to get my coat.

“Why’s it so hot in here?” he said.

“I’ve been cold lately,” I said. “Ever since I almost died of hypothermia.”

“All right, all right,” he said. “I hear you.”

“Ecuador, did you say? Where did you come up with that one?”

“Come on, let’s go,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

I followed him to his car. When we got in, I turned the heat up.

“The car’s warm enough,” he said. “You’re gonna suffocate me.”

“That would be a shame.”

He let out a long breath and backed out onto the access road. “She asked me to bring you,” he said. “So I’m bringing you.”

“So drive,” I said.

“I am,” he said.

He drove through Paradise, between piles of snow that were a good seven feet high. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I didn’t say anything back.

When we were on M-28 heading east, he finally cleared his throat. “I know what you did,” he said.

“Do tell.”

“With those drugs,” he said. “The day I go to trial on the assault charge, there’s Maven on the front page of the paper, bunch of bags on a table, those two agents on either side of him. What did you do, give the stuff to Maven directly?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Soon as I get to the courthouse, the public defender tells me the charge has been dropped down to a misdemeanor. I get a fine and a lecture from the judge. That’s it.”

“Lucky you,” I said.

“Just stop it, Alex. I know what you did.”

“Look,” I said. “I still feel like shit, okay? But when I get my strength back, I’m coming over and knocking you on your ass. How am I gonna do that if you’re sitting in jail?”

He laughed. “You’ve been plowing out my driveway, too,” he said.

“When I come over to knock you on your ass,” I said, “I don’t want to get all tired out having to climb over three feet of snow. When I come through your door, I want to be fresh and ready to go.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

“Just a little warning,” I said. “I think I’m almost back to one hundred percent.”

“You know where to find me,” he said.

He kept driving, through the Soo to the International Bridge. It was the first time I had been across since I was arrested. The customs agent asked Vinnie the usual questions, took a look at me, then let us through.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I said.

“Garden River Healing Center,” he said. “It’ll be a quick ceremony. It’s kind of a secret.”

“How come I get to be here?”

“I told you,” he said. “She asked for you.”

“But I’m the enemy.”

“Don’t even start, Alex. You helped her. She wants to thank you.”

“What about all your cousins, the ones who told you not to trust me? Are they going to be there?”

“Some of them.”

“Great,” I said. “This will be a lot of fun.”

“They feel bad about what happened,” he said. “For what that’s worth.”

“It’s worth nothing,” I said. “Exactly nothing.”

“Reminds me,” he said. “I think you probably ended up spending some money. Didn’t you?”

I didn’t say anything.

“You were in the hospital twice,” he said. “That must have cost a lot of money.”

“I’m covered,” I said.

“Not all of it,” he said. “You had to end up paying for some of it

…”

“Vinnie,” I said. “If you’re talking about somebody paying me because of what happened…”

“I’m just saying, Alex. You shouldn’t have to-”

“So help me God,” I said, “if you say one more word about money…”

“All right,” he said. “All right. I’m just saying.”

“Vinnie…”

“No more,” he said. “I’m done.”

He drove all the way through Soo Canada, then east into the forest. A few miles outside the city, we came to the Garden River Reservation. It was another of the Ojibwa tribes, along with the Bay Mills and Sault tribes in Michigan, a few others in Wisconsin and Minnesota. Garden River didn’t have casinos, and they weren’t going to get them. The government of Ontario would soon be opening their own casino in Soo Canada, cutting the Canadian tribes right out of the game.

“All these buildings are white pine,” he said as we drove in. “That’s to honor Chief Shingwaukonce. His name means ‘pine.’ ”

“You don’t say.”

“The healing center we’re going to has thirteen sides, one for each month in the old Ojibwa calendar. The white man stole one of our months, did you know that?”

“I apologize on their behalf,” I said.

“I’ll shut up now,” he said.

“Thank you.”

We parked next to the healing center. There were maybe a dozen cars there. I looked at my watch. It was almost midnight.

When we got out of his car, the snow crunched under out feet as though we were stepping on fine crystal. It was impossibly, inhumanly cold, all the clouds gone from the sky. We could see every star above us, and in the east a full moon burned brightly, casting a blue light on everything below.

“Look at that moon,” Vinnie said.

“It’s a moon, all right.”

He shook his head and led me into the place.

In the center of the healing center there was a round meeting room, with a high tin exhaust pipe rising through the ceiling. Below the pipe there was a large circle where the floor opened up all the way to the ground. There was a great mass of sand there, and after my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see that the sand had been formed into the shape of a turtle. On the turtle’s back was a hearth, also made from sand. The sweet smoke rose and hung in the air before leaving the room through the exhaust pipe. A man stood next to the sand turtle, his shirt decorated with ribbons, red, yellow, black and white.

There were chairs placed in a circle all around the turtle, at least thirty tribal members already sitting. They all looked up at us as we came in. I recognized Dorothy’s parents on the far side of the room.

“I take it they don’t see many white men in here,” I whispered.

“I hope you realize what an honor this is,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“This is a sacred place,” he said as he sat down. “You know, like church? Think you could put a lid on it for a little while?”

I shut up and sat down next to him.

When Dorothy came into the room, I could barely recognize her. Her face was scrubbed clean, her hair pulled back straight as if it were still wet. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, or any of the earrings she had on the night I met her. As she came through the circle and stood next to the man, she caught my eye and gave me a quick smile.

The man unwrapped a clay bowl from a red blanket that was lying at his feet. From the edge of the fire he took an ember and lit whatever was inside the bowl. Dorothy whispered something into his ear, and then he looked up at me. Slowly he walked over to me, carrying the smoking bowl in front of him.

“What’s happening?” I whispered to Vinnie. But it was the medicine man who answered me.

“We call this smudging,” he said. As he held the bowl next to my heart, the smoke rose all around my head and then filled my lungs as I breathed it. “This is Shkodawabuk, or sage,” he said. “It was one of our four medicines. Tobacco is from the east, cedar from the south, sweetgrass from the north and sage from the west.”

I closed my eyes and listened to his words. For the first time in many days, I started to feel warm. Just a little bit.

“We use sage today, because sage is the medicine of purification and rebirth. As the sun sets in the west, the day dies and is reborn again after the night.”

When I opened my eyes again, I looked around at all the men and women, young and old. They were all watching me with quiet faces. Then the medicine man took his bowl to Vinnie, and then on to the next person until he had worked his way through the entire room.

Then he came back to Dorothy and performed the same ritual, enveloping her with the smoke from the bowl. When he finally spoke to the room, his message was brief.

We are many tribes, divided by borders and boundaries, but one people.

Dorothy Parrish has come back to our people, but in a way she never left, because we all belong to each other, and to the Earth.

We welcome her back to us and wish her well on her journey.

When the ceremony was over, the tribal members approached her one by one to hold her hands and give her their best wishes. I stood on the outside of it all, watching her.

When she finally looked over at me, I saw the medicine man look at his watch and say something to her. She nodded and said something in return, and then came over to me.

“Alex,” she said. “Thank you for coming here.”

“You look good,” I said.

“I don’t know what to say. You helped me so much.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” I said.

“I’m sorry about everything that happened to you. I didn’t mean to pull you into the middle of everything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t plan it that way,” I said.

“You know, as soon as I met you, I knew I could trust you. I had been running so long, and I just wanted to stop. I knew you’d do the right thing, no matter what. You know what I mean?”

“I think so,” I said. I looked around the room and lowered my voice a notch. “When you took that bag…”

“I was still trying to decide what to do with it that night. Either take it to the police. Or else give it back to Molinov, ask him to go away and leave me alone. Leave all of us alone.”

“You get points for guts,” I said.

She smiled. “Did you see that moon tonight?”

“Yes, I did.”

“There was a fall moon the night I met you. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” I said. “You called it the wolf moon.”

“Yes,” she said. “The wolf moon, for protecting those close to you.”

“What’s this one called?”

“This is the ice moon,” she said. “For resting until it’s warm again.”

“Sounds like my kind of moon.”

“I should go,” she said. “I hope I see you again some day.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet,” she said. “A reservation somewhere. Here in Canada. I just want to be somewhere where I can have a little peace for a while.”

“I hope you find it,” I said.

“I will. I have my family back now.”

“Hey, you never did tell me your Ojibwa name.”

“It’s Waubun-anung,” she said. “It means ‘Morning Star.’ ”

“That’s a good name,” I said.

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself,” I said. “Morning Star.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek, then left with the medicine man.

Vinnie and I walked back out into the night. We got into the car without saying a word. We drove back through Soo Canada, back over the bridge, into Soo Michigan and then west toward Paradise. The only sound in the car was the steady hum of the heater. “I’ve been thinking about getting a hockey team together again,” he finally said. “Do you want to play?”

“Are you kidding me?” I said.

“You were good in goal,” he said. “We could use you.”

“You are kidding,” I said. “Please tell me you’re making a joke.”

“You should play,” he said. “It’s not good being by yourself all the time. You think too much.”

When we were in Paradise, he asked me if he could buy me a drink at the Glasgow.

“It’s late,” I said.

“Jackie will still be there,” he said. “He’ll let us in.”

“No, thanks,” I said. “Not tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. He dropped me off at my cabin.

“It was good to see her,” I said.

“I’m glad you got the chance,” he said. And then he left.

I stood outside my cabin for a while, breathing in the cold air, looking up at the ice moon.

So now what? Before any of this happened, I had made a vow to myself, of all the things I was going to do when the springtime came. The debts I was going to repay.

I pulled my coat tight around my neck.

Where is all my anger now? Where is the fire? I just feel tired and sore and cold.

Everything hurts. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move.

It hurts to live.

The hell with it. Vinnie’s right. I think too much.

Whatever happens will happen. I’ll make things right again someday, no matter what I have to do, or where I have to go. And this man Molinov, it sounds like he may be hunting the same game. I have a feeling I’ll be running into him again.

But not tonight. Tonight I will close my eyes and feel the smoke touching my face again, the smoke of burning sage with its promise of a new day.

I need to rest. I need to heal myself.

For now, there is nothing to do but sleep under the ice moon.