Those You Hold
“Well, you can stop. I’m right here.” “No. I don’t believe it’s you.” “Who else would I be?” “No,” he dug farther. “I know what you are.” “So, what am I?” she asked. “I saw you in a dream.” He tilted his head back. The sky was alight with stars. “Always the dreams.” He turned and took a headlamp from his pack and continued to dig.
on scraps instead of what is rightfully ours only to be told we’re living on handouts. Is that why you left?” She is staring at him. “You’re right, but I also went to school to learn to write. What I really learned is that the outside world is no place for “Indians,” not the ones who want to remain traditional. I thought I’d come back here to save the stories of our Elders before it all disappears, but instead I’m an outcast. There is no place for me here. I’m as lost as you are.” He walked over to some tinder he’d piled earlier. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a lighter. Grandpa left me this five years ago. He peered at her to see if she would respond to his thoughts. She remained still.
“I’m your sister.”
“Hey, isn’t that the lighter Grandpa gave you?” she asked with a devious smile.
“ok, then tell me something only you or I would know.”
Travis lit the pile and it burst into a quick fire.
What did we nickname Aunt Claire after she came back from Hyder?”
“Can you come closer?” he said.
“Too easy. Ever-Claire,” Travis said. “Do not listen to him, Grandson. It is not the one you know who speaks to you.” Tseets-yu’s voice said. “Remember what I taught you. Otter can see your thoughts and will use them against you.” “Why did you leave me, Travis?” she asked. “I didn’t leave. I went to…. Just fuck off and let me find her.” “Why don’t you believe it’s me? I’m tired of the world. I know you’re tired of the way we’ve lost touch with who we are. I know it makes you furious to see our people living
She stepped toward him and he kicked the fire at her. The embers singed her and she slipped into the water. “We never called him Grandpa, and Sophia bought me this lighter before I left for university,” he said. The otter swam away and did not look back. Travis continued to dig until he hit something springy—the soles of Sophia’s brown Columbia hikers. He buried her in a circular rock grave, with a prayer, and left the two-way radio gps tracker with a letter in a plastic bag at the foot of her grave. He walked north, away from civilization. ( )
Sunset Summit Miles Boulton