The old man was quiet for a time, then spoke slowly. “All things possess a spirit of their own, but there is a greater spirit that runs through all things. We are separate but we are connected. Do you see?”
“I think so,” Jenny said.
“When your child knelt among the blueberry bushes, the ground he touched connected him with the spirit beneath, I believe. He spoke with this spirit. She told him that she was lost and sad and looking for the way to the next world. She also told him that there was another lost spirit. I believe that spirit must be nearby.”
“We were hoping you might help him understand a bit more about who these spirits are.”
“He told me that the spirit who spoke with him was called Tacicala.”
“Tacicala?” Jenny said.
“In the language of the Lakota, it means Fawn,” the old man said.
“Why Lakota?”
“Not all Indians are Anishinaabe.”
“And the other spirit?” Annie said.
The old man shook his head. “This was not revealed to him.”
“You should be careful about all this,” Maria said.
“What do you mean?” Jenny asked.
“I knew a girl in Guatemala,” Maria said. “In the time of our civil war, when so many loved ones disappeared. People came to her, because if she held a thing of value from the missing person, she could tell that person’s fate. It was a heavy burden for her.”
“What happened to her?”
Maria hesitated, then said, “Men came to her village. They took her away. She became one of the many who just disappeared.”
“That can’t happen here,” Jenny said fiercely. “This isn’t Guatemala.” To Meloux, she said, “Is there something we should do?”
“What is given to us by the Great Mystery we do not always understand or accept. Waaboo does not yet understand the full truth of what he has been given. Someday he will.” The old man smiled. “But he is not afraid, your little rabbit.”
“Mom!” Waaboo called from the doorway of Prophet’s cabin. “Come quick!”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see. Come on.”
Jenny rose. “Thank you, Henry.”
When Jenny had gone, Maria said, “I did not mean to upset her. But in my experience, special people are often at great risk.”
“Tell me about your experience,” the old man said.
“I have been a nurse for many years and visited many places in my country. People with gifts—of kindness, of wisdom, of special sight, of deep spiritual belief—these are the ones that those who are bent on oppressing target first. That is the truth of things. At least, where I come from.”
“It is the truth everywhere,” the old man said.
“Is Waaboo in danger?” Annie asked.
“He is surrounded by love. There is no better protection. But…” Meloux looked toward Prophet’s cabin. “He should be watched over carefully.” The old man turned his face to Annie. In the sunlight, he seemed to glow like the filament in a light bulb. “You have not come home.”
Annie looked at him with confusion. “I’m here.”
“Your heart is not.”
“There’s a lot going on.”
The old man looked from Annie to Maria and spoke to them both.
“The path through life is difficult enough to walk as one spirit. To walk this path as a person of two spirits, that can be a great challenge. But if you want the path you walk to lead you to ninoododadiwin”—he smiled at Maria—“in our language, it means harmony. If you want to walk the path toward ninoododadiwin, there is only one way. That is the way of love.”
He let silence follow his words, which Annie had heard as a blessing, and she loved the old man for it.
“But there is something else to talk about,” the old man said. “Yes?”
His eyes settled on Annie, and she felt as if he were looking all the way down into her soul and could see the darkness there. She hardened, told her herself not to yield, and held to silence.
At last, Meloux nodded. “Very well. But I am always here.”
Waaboo rushed from Prophet’s cabin, bringing with him two bowls. He handed one to Meloux. “For you, Mishomis.” The other he gave to Annie. “Mom says you two can share.”
In each bowl was a bit of freshly made blueberry maple syrup and a spoon.
“Prophet wants you to tell me if you like it.”
