“Okay, awesome, Mom, I’ll see you in a couple weeks. I love you too.” River put her phone in her pocket and walked back into the house. The whole place smelled of bannock.
Her nokomis poured icing sugar into a tiny bowl. She set jam, honey, butter and a knife on the table. “Pick your evil,” she said. “Mine’s honey. A long time ago we would just dip it in lard.”
“Mmm, did you make piggy rolls too?” River said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“What on heaven’s earth are piggy rolls?” her nokomis asked with a grin. “Or do I want to even know?”
“Ever dirty, Noki!” River laughed. “They’re just hot dog wieners rolled in scone dough and then deep-fried.”
“Oh, yum! I love wieners!”
“Nokomis!” River groaned. She loved her noki’s sense of humour. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to get away with saying things like that.
Eric walked into the kitchen. “Mmmm. Smells good, Mom.”
River and her nokomis looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“What?” Eric looked puzzled.
“Get washed up for lunch, Eric. We’re having bannock with our soup today.”
“Okay, Mother.” Eric’s tone was sarcastic. But his kiss on her cheek was warm.
Grace continued. “So, my girl, how do you feel about the healing circle and sweat lodge? I didn’t want to ask right after. Sometimes you need quiet time after a day like that.”
“Well . . .” River smiled nervously. She placed her palm under her chin. “It was really good. I think it’s exactly what everyone needed. It felt good to be there. Before that, all I felt was anger at those girls.” River paused, and then went on. “I realized a few things. Like how disconnected from my culture, and from myself, I am. I don’t know any of the teachings. So I felt kind of stupid a few times.”
Her nokomis interrupted. “Oh, my girl, don’t feel like that at all. Everyone is on a different path, and in a different place within that learning journey. You’re not judged by how many or how few teachings you know.”
“I know . . . I just — I wish I knew more. But there’s an Elders Tea that I’d like to go to.”
“Oh yes, I go to that once a month too. I find every week is too much for me. I guess I like my alone time too much.”
“The sweat lodge was incredible, Noki. I felt really grounded, literally half naked on the earth. It was surreal.”
Her nokomis said nothing. But she had her all-knowing grin stretching from ear to ear.
“Uh . . . I learned a little more about moon time and stuff,” said River. “And some new songs in the lodge.”
Grace nodded.
“I learned that if you put your mouth close to the ground, you can get some relief from the heat. The earth is so cool.”
Grace nodded a second time.
“And the strangest thing, Noki, was the feeling I had. I can’t really describe it. It just felt like . . . home. Does that make any sense?”
Her nokomis’s eyes were as gentle as the bunnies back on the farm as she said, “It makes perfect sense. When you are connected to the earth, you are close to creation, and connected to your own spirit. You can live in a bunch of different places in the world, River, and you may never call any of them home. The true meaning of home is not your physical place in the world. It’s where you fit in the order of creation. You are part of the earth. You are not separate from it. That’s why physical things don’t really bring people much happiness at all. True happiness comes from the love you feel from the earth and creation.”
“Whatever it is, it feels amazing.”
“It certainly does, my girl. It certainly does.” Her nokomis paused, and then asked, “And now that you are finding your home, are you ready to talk about your ‘stuff’ back home, my girl?”
Eric returned from washing his hands. “I haven’t wanted to upset you, Riv. But can I ask what’s going on with your mom and you?”
“I know. Sorry, guys. I was really trying to forget about it all. And then with everything that has happened here, I feel like I’m this huge burden to everyone. I didn’t want to bring up more drama.” River’s eyes were on the floor.
“It’s okay, my girl, we are both here for you,” Eric said.
“Well, Randy is the reason she’s leaving. He is so abusive, Dad. Verbally and emotionally. He’s not really abusive to me, but I watch a lot of it happen to Mom. He screams and has tantrums like a toddler. He smashes dishes. He’s always mad at me, or about me. And he’s just friggin’ creepy sometimes when my friends are over.”
“Geez, River. You know, growing up witnessing violence is just as bad as being abused directly. It still affects you whether you realize it or not,” Eric warned.
“Yeah,” River said, nodding. “I guess I never really thought of it that way. But, Dad, I’m okay. Really okay. Listening to the others at the youth circle every week, and at the healing circle, kind of forced me to get some perspective. There are young people who are just trying to make it through the day facing whatever horrible challenge it is they have to face. Some kids don’t have a high school in their community so they have to go live with strangers. No wonder they end up in gangs! Some kids live in so much poverty that their main concern is feeding their siblings. It made me realize how privileged I am. I have lived a good life. Now I feel like my move to the rez will be less overwhelming, because I know that I’ll be with Mom, and I’ll be safe.”
Eric and Grace smiled at each other and then at River. “Sounds like you have grown a little in the last few weeks, Riv,” Eric said proudly.
“I guess so,” River responded.
“For the record,” Eric said to River, “I’m sorry you had to go through all this. Just because it may not feel as bad as what others are going through, it can still be tough. You can still ask for help in dealing with stuff. Because before you know it, these little things can become lots of little things, which can then become big problems. Don’t hold anything in, my girl.”
“I know, Dad. Thank you. I journal, you know, as an easier way for me to express myself. Even if it’s just to myself.”
“That’s really wonderful to hear, River,” her nokomis offered. “You know, journaling is like storytelling, and so is art. Our ancestors have expressed themselves for centuries through storytelling. It’s how our culture survived. Indigenous women used to pass the time telling stories, and pass on traditions through art. I think my favourite traditional art is basket making with birch bark. You should come harvesting with me before you go back home.”
“Aww, Noki, what am I going to do without you around all the time?!” whined River. “I learn so much from you every single day. I would love to go harvesting with you.” River sneaked a peek at her cell phone. “What about in the morning, Noki? It’s supposed to be sunny all day tomorrow. Low winds and no chance of rain.”
“How do you know that, River?” Eric asked.
She held up her phone. “I looked it up on the inter-web,” she teased.
As they all laughed, her nokomis said, “It’s a date, my girl!”