“Here they come,” Jenny said.
Daniel saw them, too. The old man, a little bent and using his staff. The strong, erect figure of Prophet. And between them, the young boy who, along with his mother, took up almost all the room in Daniel’s heart.
When Waaboo saw his father, he ran ahead.
“Guess what I’ve been doing!”
“I heard. Tracking.”
“Come on, Daddy. Let’s go into the woods and I’ll track you.”
Meloux had reached them and he said, “I think you have had enough practice for one day, Little Rabbit.” Meloux eyed Daniel and said, “And I think your father has had a full day of tracking, too.”
“Will you stay for supper?” Prophet asked. “We’ve got plenty.”
“Miigwech,” Daniel said.
“Can I go swimming again?” Waaboo asked.
“It will take me a while to put the meal together,” Prophet said. “I’ll call you.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jenny told her son. “Coming, Daniel?”
“I’d like to talk to Henry.”
Waaboo hurried off toward the lake with Jenny trying to keep up.
They sat on the bench in front of Meloux’s cabin with the late afternoon sun resting on the treetops to the west, casting all of Crow Point in a saffron light. To Daniel, this had always been a place of peace, but at the moment, he didn’t feel that peace inside him.
“You spent the day tracking in your own way,” Meloux said. “What did you find?”
“A woman whose heart has been broken too many times.”
“That is the blessing of the heart. It can be broken again and again and still it heals.”
“But so much pain, Uncle Henry. So much loss. Our people carry it like a great stone.”
“And yet we walk strong.”
“Not all of us.”
“You cannot lift up every person who stumbles and falls, Daniel English.”
“Not every person, maybe. But I ought to be able to help those I know about.”
“And so?”
“Uncle Henry, I’d like to take Waaboo back to the blueberry patch.”
“To what end?”
“If the spirit of Fawn Blacksmith hasn’t begun to walk the Path of Souls yet, maybe there’s more to learn that might help us understand what happened to her.”
“I have never seen anything more fierce than a mother bear protecting her cub.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will when you suggest this to your wife.”
“I’m asking for your help.”
“I am afraid of mother bears, too.”
“Like you said, Uncle Henry, I can’t help everyone, but I can help some. Maybe help this girl’s spirit find rest. Maybe help her grandmother find closure. Maybe keep some other lost girl from being grabbed by predators.”
“Your ambition is noble. But Mother Bear will be ferocious.”
“That’s why I’d like your help. Jenny may not listen to me, but she might listen to you.”
The old man thought this over, then gave a nod. He sat back against the side of his cabin and closed his eyes. In the late golden light of the day, his face was like a warm fire. “I will talk to her with you.”
“That will help, I’m sure, Uncle Henry. Chi miigwech.”
“I am old. I am ready for death. If it is at the hands of an angry she-bear, so be it.”
“No,” Jenny said. “Absolutely not.”
“It might help.”
