Passamaquoddy Trial by Fire by kanee

Passamaquoddy Trial by Fire
by
� kanee

Amakehs had spent the morning slicing fish into paper-thin strips and
hanging them to dry. She was conscious of her children's every move
as she worked. The small boy of just beyond four years time played
at her feet and anxiously waited for the opportunity to bring her
another fish from the basket woven by his grandmother. The baby girl
slept on a blanket nearby. Amakehs couldn't help but admire her as
she worked. She was such a pretty, round-faced little baby with eyes
that danced with laughter. She had been filled with joy when Creator
gifted her with a daughter. She would teach her everything she knew
and through her, she would be remembered.

The baby woke hungry, so she stopped working long enough to feed
her. Then she prepared a meal of dried fish, wild rice and berries
for her and the little boy. As she ate, she searched the horizon for
signs of her husband whom she was hoping would return soon. He had
gone to the council that was called because of the strange new
illness that had plagued some of the nearby villages. They would
trade information with other villages and send up smoke for the
healing of those inflicted.

Her son held the tiny birch canoe that his father had lovingly carved
for him to play with. He never let it out of his site. Amakehs
watched him as he pushed it back and forth, perhaps pretending he was
in it, in search of salmon or trout or some adventurous explore, and
it filled her heart with joy to see him playing. His eyes were
bright and intelligent, full of mischief, yet kind and full of love,
just like his father's.

When her husband finally did return, two days later, he seemed gaunt
and withdrawn. His brow was deeply furrowed with worry and as much
as it surprised her, she sensed fear in him. That night when they
lay together beneath the fur, he silently wept and his crushing
embrace seemed a reflection of his fear and foreboding. It was
morning before he was finally able to describe the horror he had
witnessed. There in the warm glow of the dancing, dying embers of
their night fire, he pulled her closer and huskily whispered as he
choked back tears... `I have seen the sickness that some have called
Smallpox. No one is spared, Amakehs. So many of the elders, the
children, men and women... all unrecognizable because their bodies
and faces are covered with grotesque blisters and sores. Some were
crying and screaming with pain.. others were in too much pain to
scream. Children lay dying, their parents beside them, already
gone... the elders lay begging to enter the spirit world. And those
already dead were as many as the stars. There were many fires and
the drums and chanting never ceased. The smell of death and
sickness hung in the air like a thick blanket of evil. Entire
families are gone, Amakehs... with nobody left to tend to them. The
elder's fear that the sickness will find it's way here very soon,
before the next moon. And if it does, our people could be no more.
We must send up smoke, we must ask Grandfather to show us what to
do." Amakehs cried and fought the panic and dread that washed over
her. Pulling their babies closer to cuddle them between them, they
lay together a little longer, their hearts in synch as they silently
prayed for their children to always be as healthy and happy as they
were right now, wanting this moment to never end.

There was much work to be done, as always, and over the next few
days, Amakehs's life seemed to return to a measure of normalcy,
giving her a ghostly, false sense of reality. Many of her people had
gone to help the other villages, to tend to the dead and dying. Some
had stayed behind to tend to the children and to keep their own
village going, as she had done. The tension in the air was
unbearable. Every time some one felt bad or coughed or had a
headache, their families would wait with baited breath to see if the
blisters would appear. Many, many ceremonies were performed in an
effort to stave off the inevitable, to make offerings for the sick,
and to ask for the answers they now had. Two weeks after her husband
had returned from the council, the first cases of Smallpox were
undeniably confirmed. Within another six days of its appearance, ten
from their village were gone.

Amakehs helplessly watched as her friends and family succumbed all
around her. She had never imagined such horror. Families were
disappearing before her eyes. Soon there would be no more. She
imagined her children, and the children they would never have. There
would be no one to remember her and no one to remember her children.
No one would know that they had been here, that they had loved and
worked and played. No one who would look like her or her husband.
Her son would never get to play with the boat his father had carved
for him, and neither would his children. There would be no one to
tell the stories of their lives. It had already been decided amongst
he people. If worse came to worse, those who were inflicted would
leave and go to a neighboring island there to die. In doing so, they
would hopefully stop the spread of the disease and spare the ones
left behind of the same fate. Hopefully, there would be enough left
behind to carry on their bloodlines, their culture, their
traditions... their stories.

When she put her son down to sleep for the night and kissed his
cheek, she tried not to panic when she thought he felt a bit warm.
When he woke in the night crying, saying that his throat was hurting,
she told herself he just needed a drink. When he wouldn't leave
their lodge the next day and play because his legs hurt, she knew....
Grandfather help them..... she knew. And she fought back the nausea
she hoped was only caused by her fear. She wanted to be well enough
to help him make his journey to the spirit world.

Many had already left and many more were preparing to leave as soon
as symptoms appeared. The people were numbed, resigned, determined.
Many merely boarded the canoes that would take them to the island
without ever looking back, knowing they were going there to die,
knowing they would never see their families again. Many sacrificed
themselves, merely going to help the infirmed, knowing they would not
be returning either. An eerie silence fell over the village, people
were too grieved to speak or even to cry. Even the animals were
silent, seeming to sense the gravity of the situation.

When her husband entered the lodge and saw the first blisters had
started to appear on his son`s face, he felt as though his legs would
collapse beneath him. His eyes met his wife's and locked and the
life they would not have together passed between them. The children
their son would not have played in their hearts. They both looked at
their daughter who was sleeping peacefully, then back at each other,
and they knew what had to be done. Her husband picked their sleeping
daughter up off of the floor and wrapped her in the blanket woven
especially for her. Tears were flowing now as he looked at his son
for possibly the last time. He touched his wife's cheek and she held
it there, kissing the palm of his hand. "Thank you for loving me,
Amakehs." She could only manage a nod. He turned towards the door
with the baby, looking back at them both one more time, and then
left, leaving her to make the necessary preparations for the journey
to the island.

She built a travois for him to lie on for the walk to the shore. He
was trembling with chills and fever and she covered him and tried to
make him as comfortable as possible. They had just left the lodge
when he said, "Mommy, wait! My boat!" She went back in and got his
boat and tried to ignore the inside of the lodge, which had been her
home for so many years. She bent down and put the boat in his hand
and covered it back up with the fur, then drug him on the travois the
distance to the shore.

The shoreline was already lined with people waiting for an empty
canoe to travel in. When it came their turn to leave, the boy began
to cry from the pain of having to walk and move. When he saw all the
others, he knew that something sad was happening, but he was too ill
to grasp the reality of it. He became afraid, regardless. He sat in
front of her in the canoe and leaned back against her, his cheek
against hers and cried.

"It's ok, son, it's a brave thing we do today. Close your eyes and
try to sleep and I'll tell you a wonderful story. Once there was a
little boy who became very, very sick. He prayed and prayed to
Creator to make him well. But his Grandfather, who lived in the
Spirit World, heard him and said, "I am lonely and I have no one to
play with. Please come and play with me. I'll teach you how to fly
just like the eagles do!" "Really?!" said the little boy, 'Can
Mommy come with me and play too?" "Sure" said the Grandfather, "She'd
be so sad without you!"

Her son had stopped crying, listened intently, and finally
said, "Mom, can we go play with Grandfather, too? Can we learn to
fly, you and I?"

She ran her hands through his hair and said, 'Sure, son. I don't see
any reason why we couldn't."

"How will we get there, Mom?"

"We'll go to the Island where Grandfather lives. He will come and
get us and take us there."

"Will it hurt, Mom?"

"Son, you are hurting now. But it will soon stop, I promise. As
soon as Grandfather finds us... it will stop."

He closed his eyes and slept. The fear on his face had been replaced
with a peaceful smile. On the far shore she saw them silhouetted
against the horizon... her husband and her daughter. And she wept a
million silent tears, so as not to wake her son. She made sure the
boat was still in his hand and she turned her face from the shoreline
to face their future, which would also become their past.

May 14, 2002

Sea of Sacrifice

Hold my hand my son,
I'll be here by your side.
Wave to dad and sis
And we'll go for a ride.

On a sea of love
and perfect sacrifice,
We will spare them both
of this plague for a price.

It's ok to cry,
It's a brave thing we do.
Yes, you will miss them.
Mom will miss them too.

Let me hold you now,
close your eyes, try to sleep.
Tell you a story
too wonderful to keep

Of a little boy
who became very sick
and prayed to creator,
"Make me well very quick!"

But Grandfather smiled
said, "Come and play with me!
Teach you how to fly
like eagles, just as free!"

"Really!?" said the boy.
"Can Mom come with me, too?"
Grandfather said "Yes,
she'd be sad without you."

"Mom, can we go play?
You and I learn to fly?"
"I suppose we could.
Don't see no reason why."

"How do we get there?"
"Close your eyes and believe.
We'll go to the island
Where grandfather will be."

"Will it hurt mom?"
"Son, you are hurting now.
But it will soon stop.
This to you I avow."

His eyes closed, he slept.
She wept a million tears.
A smile on his face
had replaced all his fears.

Soon they would fly,
Grandfather by their side,
Free as the wind
But for now they had to ride

On a sea of love
and perfect sacrifice.
They would spare them both
of this plague for a price.

5/8/2002

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