Page 16 of Red Hawk's Woman

Instead of the mists of morning taking away one’s vigor, it acted as a catalyst, oftentimes bringing back to mind for each of them that one moment. It is said that in all humanity, there is at least one single instant in a person’s life when all the world’s vectors converge to make a particular time, and everything about it, perfect.

And so it was for these two; their time together, seventeen years earlier, was such a one.

Thus, as Red Hawk trod toward the water, there to engage in his usual morning prayers, he greeted the haze as another might welcome the first rays of golden sunlight. His spirits soared, and opening his arms, he began to sing in the new day, to give his thanks to the Above Ones and to A’pistotooki for the dawn.

“Haiya, haiya, a new day begins.

Haiya, haiya, though the daybreak is murky, my heart is light.

Haiya, haiya, will this be the day that I will learn your secret?

Haiya, haiya, have pity on me, Old Man, Napi.

Haiya, haiya, time grows short, and my people await their freedom.

Haiya, haiya, is there not some clue? Some spirit guide who will help me?

Haiya, haiya, have pity on me, Old Man.

Haiya, haiya, haiya…”

Red Hawk’s voice droned on and on. Always he asked the same thing. Always there was no answer, no sign to point him toward the right path.

Was A’pistotooki, the Creator, listening? It was a difficult thing to determine, for in all these many years, there had been nothing to guide Red Hawk, nothing to show him the path he must take, if he were to aid his people and end their curse. In this quest, Red Hawk was floundering.

Still, the cloudy morning beckoned, and though he meant no dishonor, Red Hawk’s mind wandered off the matter at hand. Perhaps the morning vapors were at fault, for it seemed to him at times as if the mist itself were pulling him in a certain direction.

Where was she? What was she doing?

Had the girl married by now? Did she have young ones? Did she love her husband?

“Ehh-fee,” he said her name aloud.

He had never seen the girl after that one day, though he had stayed by the pool, waiting for her to return. But she had not come back, and he…he had a mission of importance to attend to. Besides, the elders had awaited him. There had been more counseling to be done, rituals to be adhered to, plus there had been Grandfather’s needs to placate. Alas, when the sun had advanced beyond the midday point, Red Hawk had left their lagoon.

Taking in a deep breath, he tried to drag his attention back to the present moment, and looking forward, he smiled, as though she stood before him. Sometimes, the mist simply had that effect on him.

Hunching over, he began to prepare for his daily bath, and he drew off his moccasins and breechcloth that he might stand naked, trusting, before the Creator. Opening his arms in welcome to the early morning fog, he started to sing:

“Thank you for the new day, A’pistotooki,” his voice rang out, though this time he spoke his prayer. “Thank you for your wisdom. But I would ask your pity. I come to you humbly, for you see before you a desperate man. I have but one full winter remaining to discover the way in which to end my people’s curse. And, A’pistotooki, I have no better knowledge as to how to end this enchantment now than I did when I was but twelve years old. As you know, I have sought out the enemy in fight after fight. Always have I shown my foes mercy. I have even abandoned my desire to revenge myself against the Thunderer.

“A’pistotooki, I have little to offer you. My needs are simple. I ask only this. I seek a helper, A’pistotooki. Some sign as to what I must do. Will you not take pity on me and hear my plea?”

Red Hawk paused, but when nothing happened, he continued. “Creator, why do my prayers go ignored? Why is it that in all this time, there has been no sign to guide me, no vision, no teacher pointing me in the right direction? Have I not done all I could? Have I not continued on this path alone? Creator, I am but a simple man. I would ask for a helper, a sign, anything.”

However, as always seemed to happen, there was nothing but the silence of the countryside to respond to him.

“A’pistotooki,” continued Red Hawk, “is it because I was the last choice as a champion? If this be so, I ask your patience. For whether my people desired to have me as their defender or not, I am yet here, and I am doing all I can to help my grandfather’s people. I would see them again, I would be reunited with Grandfather if I could. I yearn for his wisdom. I ask only this: Send me a message, a messenger, anything, so that I might learn how to end the curse of my people. That is all.”

With this said, Red Hawk wasted no time, and he executed a dive out into the middle of the stream, the water little more than shoulder deep. One strong stroke after another, and he could sense the blood beginning to flow within him. At last, he reasoned that he was warm enough to stand on both feet. He reached down and picked up a bit of sand from the riverbed to scrub his arms, face and neck.

This done, he felt clean, and, expecting nothing more than a good rinse, he dove underwater, his strong legs kicking out to propel himself forward. On he swam, out toward the deepest part of the river. It was then that it happened.

Suddenly, he stopped mid-stroke.

It was she. There before him.

Using his hands to keep himself beneath the water’s surface as well as to hold him steady, he stared.