Short Story

At sunrise, I watched her walk to the river to wash her face. Our camp was located right outside of a wooded area and very near to the river. Rain had not come for many days. We waited but it did not come. The night before we had come through dense woodland to arrive where we had seen the birds dive. All three tepee's were erected before sunset and the fire was sparked in the minutes following the sun's gentle descent.

I saw her looking at her face in the solemn waters this morning. She seemed to always pause after washing up. Her slow, reflective movements told me that she was looking at more than just her face. She was looking at her past. And as I expected, she began singing her sad song. I could see her chest rise and fall rapidly as she forced the sorrow to stay inside. But the pain was unyeilding and the tears fell copiously from her eyes.

She saw me watching and stood quickly with her head held high in the air. The tears were swept away with one stroke of her previously clenched hands. She walked back to camp and sat near the fire as the older women baked cod over the fire. The women did not acknowledge her but still she sat erect with her spirit in tact.

It had been 7 months since she stepped into her father's tepee to announce that she was with child. Her father, Spirit Eagle, accepted her announcment and granted her permission to bring her baby into the world. She kept her excitement close to her heart and did not release it until she had left her father's tent. The older women read the future when they saw her face.

But three months ago, her child released it's spirit from it's body. She knew it almost immediately. Even before she realized that she was not feeling movement anymore, she felt an emptiness. The child's lifeless body was delivered on a frigid morning when no animals were yet stirring. Her mournful cries could be heard all across the camp. When they brought his body to the edge of the wood for the burial, she did not go. Saying goodbye to her young one was intolerable.

After watching her at the river this morning, I think I understand why she pauses. She believes that one day she will wash her face and the pain will be washed away with all the dirt. And when she sees her reflection and realizes that the pain is still there, she weeps.