She didn’t particularly want to return to an empty house. Instead she decided to head to Crow Point, where Jenny and Waaboo were still under the watchful eyes of Prophet and Henry Meloux.
As so often in her life, the moment she’d stepped from the trees into the meadow on Crow Point, her mood had brightened. Henry Meloux had told her that there were places where the spirit of the Creator was especially profound, where the sense of peace was especially healing. Annie had understood all her life that Crow Point was one of those places. Still, that didn’t keep Henry’s sanctuary from being violated by those who cared little about what was sacred, as had been demonstrated so pointedly the day before, when Adrian Lewis had tried to kill her there.
In Guatemala, in the chaos of the barrio, she’d often held to the memory of Crow Point, used it to help center herself. But this day, she didn’t feel the peace of the place. There was still so much in her that struggled with the truth of what lay ahead for her, a wall of fear and anger and regret that blocked the peace Crow Point promised.
Even when Henry Meloux came from his cabin and she saw the smile break wide on his ancient face, she didn’t feel the welcome of all that he and that sacred place offered.
“Boozhoo, Granddaughter.”
“Boozhoo, Henry. Where is everyone?”
“Swimming. At least your sister and the little rabbit are. Prophet is keeping watch.”
She heard Waaboo’s cries of delight coming from beyond the rock outcrops that sheltered Meloux’s fire ring.
“When I told our little rabbit that you would be coming, he wanted to speak with you alone.”
She didn’t ask how the old Mide understood that she would be visiting. If she did, she knew he would simply say something like “The woods whispered it to me.” Which, Annie accepted, was probably true.
“Go on,” Meloux said. “If he wants to speak to you, he must have something important to share.”
When she reached the fire ring, Annie found Prophet sitting on one of the long sections of sawed log around the ring that reminded her of church pews. Through a broad gap in the birch trees that lined the shore of Iron Lake, Jenny and Waaboo were clearly visible, splashing in the water. Prophet held a book in his hands, which he closed when Annie appeared. She saw that it was A House Made of Dawn. She also saw Meloux’s old Remington leaning next to him on the log.
“He likes to spend a lot of time in the lake,” Prophet said. “Instead of Waaboo, he should be called Nigig.”
Which Annie knew meant Otter.
“Henry said Waaboo wanted to talk to me.”
“He’s been troubled lately.”
“That’s pretty understandable. He’s been shot at.”
Prophet shook his head. “Something else.”
“Any idea what?”
“He keeps it to himself. There’s a lot going on in that young brain of his. Sit.” Prophet nodded at the place beside him. When she was seated, he said, “What is good is also a kind of magnet for what is not.”
She gave him a confused look.
“Two poles attracting. Crow Point, for example.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve wondered how a place like this, where the spirit of the Creator is so strong, can also be a place where things like yesterday occur. That man almost killed you. I know there have been other incidents here. I was a part of one. And I’ve been thinking how these things could be in a place like this. Henry, in his way, seemed to understand my question. He was the one who told me that what is good is also a kind of magnet for what is not.”
“Ah,” Annie said. “That sounds like Henry.”
“Waaboo is like that,” Prophet said. “I suspect that until he’s a grown-up, he’ll need protection from what isn’t good. I think he’s beginning to understand that.”
Annie watched the child playing, and her heart went out to him. Poor kid, she thought.
And poor Jenny.
They came from the water, Waaboo running, his skin wet and tanned and glistening with droplets under the morning sun as if he were wearing diamonds. He was smiling broadly, but when he saw Annie, his face changed, grew serious.
Jenny was right behind him. “Henry said you’d be coming,” she told her sister. Two towels had been laid out on one of the trunk sections. Jenny gave a towel to her son and took the other for herself.
“Everyone else has gone somewhere. It felt pretty lonely in the house. I thought I’d hang out here for a while.” Annie smiled at Waaboo. “I have it on good authority that you’d like to talk with me.”
Waaboo had toweled off, and now he nodded. “Alone,” he said.
“Come on, Prophet,” Jenny said. “I’ll head back and start putting together some lunch for us all.”
Prophet stood and lifted his rifle. “I won’t be far,” he promised Waaboo, then he followed Jenny.
“Come and sit,” Annie said, patting the log beside her. When the boy was seated, she said, “So, what is it you want to talk to me about?”
He said, almost apologetically, “You’re dying.”
She was surprised. “Did Henry tell you that?”
“No. But it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re scared.” He closed his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them, he said, “And mad. Is it because you’re dying?”
