Page 11 of Red Hawk's Woman

He followed her, tagged her, but he didn’t at once retreat. Instead, opening his arms, he invited her to touch him back. To this end, he swam around her, leaping to and fro, but always at her arm’s length.

Tentatively, doubtfully, she reached out toward him. She had almost grazed him again when he extended his hands toward her instead. He tickled her.

“No fair.” She laughed, doubling up. “Your arms are longer than mine. Now, no tickling.”

He didn’t understand her words, though he was fairly certain he comprehended exactly what she wanted. Grinning at her, he repeated the action.

“No!” she said, and there was no mistaking the intent of that word. He wasn’t about to end the game, however, not yet, and so he danced around her once again, his arms wide open and tempting her to make him “it.”

“What are you doing?” Her gaze followed him as he swam easily around her.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tugged at one of her curls.

“Stop that,” she ordered sharply. Nonetheless, she was giggling.

He repeated the action.

“Oh, this is not fair. You are bigger than I am and your arms are longer.” She leaped toward him suddenly. He backed away, just in time, his arms still open as he tread water, offering her a clear target.

She laughed, and he joined in with her.

And so it was that the morning hours wore on. Back and forth they played, Red Hawk allowing the beautiful water spirit to win the game of tag. But never more than he.

“Oh, you are too much for me.” She smiled up at him. “Unfortunately, I must pronounce you the winner, though I think you have a terrible advantage over me.” As if to compensate for the inequality, she reached down in the water and pulled off each of her shoes in turn. “Why did I not think of this before now? These awful pantalettes I am wearing get in my way and my boots drag me down, while you have only your breechcloth to restrict you. No wonder you are able to taunt me.”

Taking aim, she threw first one boot at the shoreline, and then the other. Her hurl wasn’t accurate, and one by one, each shoe fell short of the shore, plopping into the water, the hard leather causing them to sink swiftly. At once gallant, Red Hawk propelled himself forward, capturing one shoe, then the other.

She followed, wading right up to him, where she extended her hand, asking for the boots. Slowly he presented the shoes to their owner, his hand lingering over the last boot before dropping his arm to his side.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. Smiling, she held her shoes against her breast and pointed to herself. “Effie. Can you say that? Effie.” Again she indicated herself.

“Eh-h-h—eee,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Close enough. And you are?” She pointed toward him.

Words and gestures aside, he knew instinctively what she asked, but it was beyond his means to tell her what she desired. Somewhat alarmed—for an Indian would never ask another his name—Red Hawk tried to justify her action. She was not from here, he decided. She might not know the protocols of his polite society.

For one, a man never spoke his name aloud. Not only was it a taboo, it was also considered boastful, for names often told of great deeds.

Also, Red Hawk was reluctant to willingly utter the name that the others in the Clan called him. His name was Red Hawk, not Poor Orphan. Even if she wouldn’t understand the words, he could not bring himself to say them.

He gazed away from her, prompting her to try again. Pointing to him, she said, “And you are?”

This time Red Hawk shrugged, and turning away, presented her with his back as he swam toward the middle of the pond. There he waited, motioning her forward, asking her with signs to continue their game.

She shook her head. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name? After we have spent such a remarkable morning together? What am I to call you?”

Red Hawk feigned misunderstanding, saying nothing.

“Oh, very well,” she uttered, clearly exasperated. “It’s not very much to ask, though, is it? I’d just like to know what to say if I’m to address you. Will you be here tomorrow?”

Again, he remained silent, not understanding her words, though he did try to get her to join him once more in the center of the pool.

She shook her head. Spinning away from him, she began to wade closer to the shoreline. “I can’t. Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not because you won’t tell me your name or anything, but my parents might become concerned if I am gone too long. Already I’ve been here a few hours, and so I must return to them. I have enjoyed your company, though.” With a grin that was half apology, she turned to leave the water.

A feeling of loss swept over Red Hawk, and he swam toward her, following her. Coming up behind her, he touched her gently on the shoulder to get her attention, then taking hold of her hand, he guided it to his shoulder, where he allowed her to “tag” him.

Averting his gaze, Red Hawk started to draw back from her, but she held on to him tightly. Curious, his glance met hers, became lost in hers.