SOLOMON
PUPPY WAS the same color as Imogene’s chocolate pudding. It was good color. He whimpered all night but by morning was at ease with chew toys. He played on blanket outside my hut. He would be good guardian for Tula.
Theo sat on back porch in early light, same chair where his mother once watched the sun rise every morning. And where she set coffee on porch for me. Steam from that cup called me to her side. Together we watched a new day birth—for many years did this. Now, her son sits, wounded, confused, missing his mother’s wisdom.
“Morning,” I said.
“I see we have a new family member,” he said nodding at the dog.
“Yes, he will be good now. First night is hard.” I sat on rail. “You climb Neahkahnie?”
“I did,” he said. “Well, almost anyway.”
“Keep trying.”
“I will.”
“The storm comes now,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll order supplies from Portland today and get things ready,” he said.
“Bullets?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of water, food, gasoline, candles . . . ”
“This storm is bigger than that . . . will need to be killed.”
Theo sat in chair and said, “Okay . . . kill somethin’. Why’s everybody talkin’ about storms, anyway?”
“After storm, I will go.”
“Go where?”
“My final journey is near,” I said. “Wolf waits.”
Theo’s face dropped. He stared into rising sun and said, “Final journey?”
The sky was heavy and quiet, hard to read. Sunflowers leaned to ground in search of winter grave, trees were near bare and many birds had flown to next place. Osprey flew to perch above my hut, with tips of feathers spread like long fingers, clutching a fish. She landed and settled fish on limb at her feet.
“The Great Grandfather’s world is beautiful place,” I said.
“It is,” Theo said. He, too, gazed up at bird of prey with her breakfast.
“I will be sorry to leave some things.” I watched osprey pull at skin and swallow Mother Ocean’s gift. “And I will be happy to see my family again.”
“We’re also your family—”
“Yes,” I said. “And you must listen to me.”
“I listen to everything you say. I always have, despite Korea, this collar, I hear you.”
“Then hear me, my journey will end soon. All journeys end.”
Theo’s eyes burned red. He reached out, laid his hand on my arm.
“Do not weep for me at any grave,” I said patting his hand. “I will not be there. I will be the wind, a thousand raindrops, morning sunlight on your face. I will stand on cliffs of Neahkahnie Mountain until the end of time, you and Raven come join me there, then go into the world and live your life. Feed the wolf who hungers most. These things are gifts from the Great Grandfather. Do not waste them. Your time of healing is ended. Your next journey begins now.”