Shinnecock Voices: Summer in the North - Part 2

Walking towards the door I could see Allan and Sarah waiting by the truck. Simon pulled open the door leading outside and immediately a cool breeze had flown my dark hair back behind me. I stepped out the door and the sun had begun to warm my bare shoulders despite the breeze.

“Hop in!” Sarah exclaimed, “Don’t worry about bringing anything with you, we’ve got you covered.” Each of us climbed in the truck and within minutes we had arrived at a bulkhead that docked a small-inflated gray raft. An out-house looking hut was situated just before the water, it couldn’t have been more than six-by-six feet and no taller than seven or eight feet. There was no foundation underneath it, so the river could rise and fall without damage.

Sarah handed me a bag that had a wetsuit and boots inside and pointed me to the hut. I gladly took the wetsuit and boots to change, I didn’t want to imagine the temperature of the water here, even if it was considered summertime.

Once inside the raft, I saw the cooler that Allan had prepared with snacks, sandwiches and drinks for the day. Making sure everything was accounted for, Simon then untied the raft from the dock and we waved back to Sarah on the shore.

“If you can’t tell, we’re going rafting!” Simon said, as he bounced into his seat, a fishing stool in the front of the raft.

“This is amazing!” I responded. Looking out over the Tanana River, the fields were a mix of lime green and the deep forest green in crayons. Scattered throughout the fields were yellow and red flowers, and forget-me-nots that complimented the sky’s calming blue. We floated on lke that for an hour, talking about our typical summer activities in between the sounds of the birds surrounding us on the shore.

“I sail this small boat called a Sunfish around our bay and try to race with my brothers and friends when we aren’t working.” I said.

“That sounds like fun. I’ve never sailed anything before, but I know a few people around here who have small boats to go around the lakes.” Simon explained as he cast his fishing lines into the river while Allan rowed, steering the raft.

“I’m going to pull off here, so we can eat some food.” Allan said, putting the oar down inside the raft. They had packed chicken salad sandwiches in the cooler and homemade cookies for dessert with ‘18’ written in icing on each. When I asked when they had prepared all of this, Simon had told me he stayed up late last night to make the cookies, and woke up early this morning to finish decorating them.

“My dad helped me load the cooler and rest of the gear into the raft, but I was the one who launched it and really got it all ready,” he said jokingly.

“You’re so humble,” I laughed and gave him a light shove on the shoulder. Thanking both of them for the food, I told them I couldn’t have imagined doing something like this for my birthday, and I was grateful to spend it here.

After finishing up dessert, Allan asked Simon to show me how to fly-fish before taking us back down the river.

Nervous, because I didn’t want to embarrass myself, I tried to cast delicately on the first try and ended up letting the line out too far. As I tried to gather the line, I dropped the reel and Simon started to laugh. I picked up the reel and shoved it into Simon’s chest, stifling his laughter as he tried to coax me to try again, instead I picked up my lifejacket and headed towards Allan and the raft.

Back on the raft we had gone about another mile down river, passing some small drops before Allan had told me there were some bigger rapids coming up. He told Simon to get the raft to shore so I could walk alongside and meet up with them afterwards. I had wondered to myself how big these rapids really were, that I had to get out of the boat.

“Watch out for some of the bushes. They’ve got a lot of burrs in them and they’re a huge pain.” Allan warned, as I grabbed my water bottle from the boat to take with me. “Just keep your eye out on that path,” he said.

I nodded and started walking along the shoreline, watching them as the made their way towards the rocky waters. After a few minutes, I began to hear Allan yelling at Simon, to watch some of the rocks that they were approaching. I stopped to try and see through some of the trees and watch what was happening. The raft was bouncing all over the foaming brown water and both Simon and Allan were losing some of their balance. I could feel the adrenaline start coursing through my veins, making my hands begin to shake and I hoped nothing would go wrong in the next few moments.

They started to leave my view, I began racing towards another clearing, running through a huge group of bushes to get there. The pathway was on an incline and before I knew it was leaning through the trees to see them. Looking forwards, there was one more rapid thing they needed to get through before it calmed.

“Grab the oar!” Allan screamed over the water.

“I’m trying to, Dad!” Simon responded through gritted teeth as he pulled the oar in the opposite direction to avoid another rock.

Passing one more curve of rocks, there was a swoosh while the raft rocked into the calmer waters.

I began moving again and I was ahead of them, when Allan steered the raft towards me to let me get back on.

Climbing back in, all of my nerves were on edge.

“You didn’t watch the bushes did you?” Allan asked, looking me up and down as he chuckled to himself.

It was then that I felt the sting of some scratches on my face. Wiping at my face with my hand, blood had smeared on my hand.

“We’ll get you cleaned up on the way back down.” Allan reassured me.

Simon glanced up at me and I knew then, at that moment, that my intense concern for his safety was much more than the concern for a friend. I could tell and feel it was mutual.

It was another mile of Simon helping me pull burrs off of me, before I could see Sarah sitting on the hood of the Bronco waiting for us. I jumped out of the boat into the shallows to make it easier for Simon and Allan to maneuver the raft on the trailer.

“Ronnie, can you wind that crank, right there for me?” Allan said, pointing towards the front of the trailer.

Doing as I was told, the crank pulled the slacked line tightly, lifting the raft further up onto the trailer, while Allan tied a tarp over it to keep its contents secure.

Climbing into the back of the truck, Simon and I were crammed in the backseat. With every bump and turn, I tried not to lean too far into him as we drove, but it looked like he didn’t mind. It even seemed like he had edged closer. Before I had time to figure out if that was the case we were back at the house.

Simon and I had put the cooler and oars away, when Allan asked us to get cleaned up and run the dogs before dinner.

After a much needed showering, Simon and I met up outside in the field. There were countless colorful dog toys all over the yard, but a simple tennis ball was all that was needed to grab dogs’ attention.

“I hope your cheek is okay.” Simon said, looking genuinely concerned.

I chuckled and responded, “It’s only a scratch, Simon, I’m not too worried.”

“I just wouldn’t want it to scar,” he mumbled, not thinking I heard him as I had tossed it and watched all 15 dogs except one race to get to it first.

Capri, the all black husky, had stayed seated next to me, completely uninterested in any of the toys surrounding her. In the few weeks I had been here, this was the same behavior she had every time I came outside. Never letting me pet her, she would just sit there by my side.

“Hey you guys, we’re ready,” Evon shouted from the kitchen window to Simon and me. Simon looked and smiled at me differently than usual, and told me to come on. We turned and walked inside together. Everyone was waiting in the living room with a small but warm fire burning. Grandma Sadzi was sitting in her wingback chair in front of the fire holding a gray box in her lap.

“Alright, One…Two… Three – Happy Birthday!” Sarah began and everyone joined in. When everyone had finished giving me all of their blessings, Grandma Sadzi had handed the box to Evon to give to me.

Inside were moose hide moccasin slippers. The openings at the foot were lined with beaver fur and the feet of the dark yellow hide were beaded flowers. There were three two-toned blue flowers: one large in the center, with two smaller flowers on either side. Green leaves were beside them and outlined with paper white beads.

I had looked at everyone in the room, with small tears forming in my eyes. The handmade moccasins were a beautiful gift that reminded me of my mother’s mittens she received during her stay in Alaska. I didn’t know how to thank them all for such an amazing day. I had no words, when I had hugged everyone in thanks for my most memorable birthday. I could feel the care we all had for each other fill the room.

Later that night, Simon knocked a few times before he had entered my room. I had turned around and without any words he pulled me into his arms. I closed my eyes and tilted my head up; I could feel his face on mine. He felt warm and when his hold on me loosened, one hand had lingered on my waist. I pulled back from his embrace so I could look into his brown eyes.

I looked down at, my gaze falling to a flatly wrapped parcel in the palm of his rough hand. I pulled at the sinew that was holding the hide together and unfolded it to find a silver and bone necklace.

“It’s Dentalium bone. It’s a symbol of affection in Athabascan culture. I wanted to give it to you on your birthday.” Simon places it into my hand and kisses me on the cheek, before turning towards the door.

“Happy Birthday, Ronnie. Sleep well.” With that he had left my room.

Summer in the North – Part 3 will continue in a later publication. To learn more about the inspiration behind the short story or the author, Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Roe, head to ndnimpact.com or reach out to ndnimpact@gmail.com.

“Shinnecock Voices” is a monthly column in which citizens of the Shinnecock Nation share stories, opinions and what they’re working on to allow readers an inside view into their incredible community.