When Breaks the Dawn (Canadian West) (12 page)

I did not turn him away. He came in and took his place at the table, and I brought him a few books to look at while I finished my morning tasks.

He buried himself in the books and paid no attention to me.

“What about Susie?” I asked him. “If we are having class again, shouldn’t she be here, and Wawasee?”

“They come—maybe,” said Jim, afraid I might change my mind.

“But they don’t know about it,” I continued.

“You bang bell,” responded Jim, solving that dilemma.

I smiled to myself and went to “bang bell.”

After a few moments Wawasee appeared. Tucked in his parka was his beloved scribbler. He proudly showed it to me, every page filled with his drawings. They were very well done, and I marveled that a child of his age, with no training or guidance, could accomplish such beautiful and skilled artwork.

I settled him at the table and assigned him to draw the illustrations on some more word cards. Then I listened to Jim’s reading lesson. He was doing well.

The morning passed and Susie did not appear. I was concerned about her, and after the two boys had gone home and I had eaten my lunch and cleared the table, I decided to go over to Susie’s cabin and see how things were going.

Susie’s mother, Maggie, still lay on the bed in the corner along with her twins. They both looked fine, though one cried vigorously while the other slept through it all.

There was much commotion and confusion in the cabin. An elderly couple was moving in. The woman was going to care for Maggie and the babies, and as the old man also needed her care, she had brought him with her.

Susie had been sent to gather some firewood to keep the fire burning. I thought of the wood supply beside the cabin we used as our schoolhouse. Once we had stopped having classes in the schoolroom, the people of the village had taken advantage of the wood supply and helped themselves. I supposed there would be little left by now.

With two more people moving into the cabin, I wondered where they would sleep. It was already crowded with the family which presently occupied it. Besides Susie, Maggie had two small boys and now there were also the new twins.

I went over to the bedside to talk to Maggie. She still seemed weak. She smiled at me though and nodded her head at each baby.

“Two,” she said to me. I smiled in return.

“How are you, Maggie?” I asked her.

“Not good,” she said, shaking her head; then her face brightened. “But soon.”

“I’ll have the sergeant drop by to see you. He might have some medicine to make you strong faster,” I promised, wondering even as I said it if Wynn had any kind of tonic or vitamins.

“That good,” she said. She lay for a minute and then went on, “Susie hear bell. Want to go. I need today. Now Too Many come. But Susie might go stay with other family in big village. No room here.”

Maggie’s face looked sorrowful at the thought.

“What do you mean?” I asked, horrified at what I thought she meant.

“No room,” Maggie repeated.

I looked about me. She was right. There was no room to put another bed on the floor, yet somehow, two more would need to be squeezed in.

Without even stopping to think or to draw a breath, I said, “I have room. I’ll keep her at my house; then she won’t need to go to the big village, and she will be able to come and see you and help gather your wood, and—”

“That is good,” agreed Maggie. “You take.”

I could hardly wait for Susie to return from her wood gathering so I could tell her the good news.
She was coming to stay with me; she could continue with her classes,
I rejoiced. She would not need to leave her village or her people.

Susie received the news with quiet joy. Except for the shine in her eyes, I would not have thought she heard me.

She did not tell her mother goodbye, but I noticed their eyes exchange a glance, and I knew that both mother and daughter felt the parting. Susie would be near, so she would be able to return home each day to help in the household tasks and to visit her mother.

We started for our cabin, Susie carrying all she owned in a tiny bundle. I wondered how anyone, even a small girl, could survive with so few belongings.

As we walked silently across the clearing, the sun shone brightly from a cloudless sky, the kind of a day that lends itself to snow blindness because of the intense glare of the winter snow. I saw Susie squinting against it, and I supposed I squinted, too.

Won’t Wynn be surprised when he comes home tonight,
I thought. There was not a doubt in my mind but what Wynn would heartily approve of my actions. I was sure he would take in the whole village if he felt it would be for their good.

Kip welcomed Susie with generous wags of his tail. Perhaps he had missed her at class today. She placed her small bundle on the floor and threw her arms around his neck.

“I am going to live with you, Silver One,” she said, calling him by his Indian name.

Kip seemed to like the arrangement. His whole body waved with his enthusiasm.

It was then I noticed a little skipping of my heart.
The cabin won’t seem so empty now when Wynn is away.
It would be filled with the voice of a child.

EIGHTEEN

Susie

It did make a difference to have Susie in our home. Where it had been quiet and empty before, it now became filled with laughter and childish games. Susie was a bright little thing who loved to chatter and laugh. Kip was her playmate. They romped together on the rug and furniture, and sometimes I was tempted to admonish them to be quiet and still. Then I would think of the house as it used to be, and how it would be again when Susie left us, and I would hold back the command.

Susie’s grasp of English broadened quickly. She loved my books. When I was busy she would pore over them, trying to sound out the words. When I was free she would ask me to read to her, which didn’t take too much coaxing because I loved it as much as she did.

I was careful to send her home for a portion of each day. While she was gone I worked quickly at whatever needed to be done so that when she returned I would be free to spend my time with her.

Some days I dressed warmly and went with her to the woods to help her gather the wood supply for her cabin. We always took Kip along, and he loved the romp through the snow. It was good for all of us, and we returned home with rosy cheeks and shining eyes, delighted by the things we had seen in the forest.

We didn’t neglect Susie’s schoolwork. In fact, I guess we advanced it. We both loved the excitement of learning. Susie shared with me many things about her people, and I told her many things about mine. She was a real help to me in understanding the ways of the Indians, and I had a wonderful chance to learn more of their language.

Though Susie would laugh at my attempts to pronounce some of the strange words, she was a good little teacher and would have me repeat the word over and over until I got it right. In my heart I hoped for the day when she would be standing in front of a classroom, teaching her own people. I was sure now that Wynn and Nimmie were right. One or two of these dear children could open the door to a new world for the entire tribe. Perhaps Susie, with her quick mind and love for laughter, would be the key to that door.

Wynn loved Susie too. At first she was shy around him. She respected the lawman, and perhaps even liked him, but she held back, a gentle smile showing only in her dark eyes.

Kip was certainly not shy. Whenever Wynn returned home, Kip met him at the door with joyous yips and wagging tail. Wynn was hardly allowed to remove his heavy winter wraps before Kip expected a tussle. Wynn would take the big, silver-tipped, furry head between his hands and press his face against the dog’s fluffy coat. Then the two of them would rock back and forth, and often end up rolling on the floor.

Susie watched it all at first, her eyes round with astonishment. I’m sure she had never seen such goings-on before, not with a grown-up. Occasionally Kip would look her direction and whimper, as if inviting her to join them. Then Susie would turn away and come to me to see if I had some task I might wish her to do.

After Kip had been satisfied, Wynn would come to me. At first we weren’t sure how we should conduct ourselves in Susie’s presence. We felt she was probably not used to seeing an embrace and welcoming kiss among adults in the way we were accustomed. Should we, for Susie’s sake, restrain ourselves? We tried that for one day. But we missed it so, we decided that Susie probably could adjust to our way of showing affection. So when Wynn came to the stove to see what was cooking, we embraced and greeted one another with a kiss just as we always had done.

At first we noticed Susie’s big black eyes upon us, but as the days went by she seemed to accept it as part of the strange rituals of our household.

Wynn never failed to turn to the little girl with a question about her day. At first she was shy and hesitant, but gradually she became more open. They even shared Indian words I did not yet know. He would ask her a question in her own language and she would answer him, a twinkle in her eyes. This exchange was often followed with laughter, and I took pleasure in their private little jokes.

Susie was quick to observe. When Wynn came in and removed his winter things, he also took off his heavy boots and put on lighter, more comfortable footwear. He sat in the one big chair before the fire to remove the boots. Then he walked, stockingfooted, to our bedroom to get his slippers. Each night his little ritual was the same. Until one evening when Susie changed it.

Wynn had lowered his tired body into his chair and was tugging at the heavy boots. He sat for a moment relaxing the strained muscles, and then rose to go to the bedroom, but there was Susie, standing in front of him, his slippers in her outstretched hand.

Wynn’s eyes first showed surprise, and then he beamed at her. He reached out—not for the slippers but for the little girl. He pulled her to him and hugged her close. Susie did not pull back.

I wondered as I watched if this was the first time Susie had been hugged by a man. Her own father would have been a very busy trapper, often gone from the home and not accustomed to showing his love in this way, though no one could doubt that Indian fathers did love their children. Often they were seen talking and playing with them, their eyes aglow with pride and joy. I often thought as I watched, that had they been called upon to do so, I’m sure they would have given their lives for their children without a moment’s hesitation.

But here was little Susie getting a warm hug. Would she understand it?

“Thank you, my girl,” Wynn was saying. And then he said a few words in the Indian dialect and Susie giggled. Wynn released her and put on his slippers. Susie’s eyes never left his face.

“Seeing as I didn’t have to walk
all
the way to the bedroom to get my slippers, there might be time for a short story before Elizabeth calls us for supper,” Wynn said with a nod toward the small stack of books.

Susie’s smile grew broader and she ran for her favorite. I inobtrusively postponed supper a little. Wynn lifted Susie up onto his knee and soon both of them were completely absorbed in the story. As I watched them, tears brimmed in my eyes. This was as it should be. This was what I wanted to give to Wynn—a child, a child of his own to love and care for and cuddle. Instinctively I had known Wynn would make a good father. I had been right. I could see it clearly now in the way that he held Susie.

We were a real family now. Wynn, me and Susie. There was a family feeling in our small cabin. We had been happy together, Wynn and I, but a child was what we needed to make our life complete.

I looked at Wynn and the little girl on his knee. Their eyes were riveted to the pages of the storybook. My heart sang a little song. I loved Susie so much and I knew with certainty that she loved me in return. It was such fun to romp through the snow, to make cookies, to teach her how to embroider, to help her make a rag doll … There were so many things we had done together in the short time since Susie had come to us. I thought ahead to all the things I still wanted to share with her.

And then a flash of insight shocked me back to reality.

I faced the fact that Susie would not be with us long. I would love to keep her. I knew Wynn would love to keep her. My heart ached as I formed the words,
But she is not truly ours,
though my mind cried out against the fact. She belonged to another family. I knew this would not change, nor would I change it if I could. Susie loved her family. Her family loved her. Ultimately she belonged with them.

I must daily remind myself of that and do nothing that would make it any harder for Susie when she returned to her own home. My deep love must protect her
from
my love. It seemed like a strange enigma, but I knew that it was true. It would be so easy to pretend Susie was mine. To take over her life. To try to make her white instead of Indian.

We would love her. We both would love her. But we—and especially I—must be conscious of who she was and preserve and keep that for her, at the same time expanding her world. It would not be easy, but I would try with all my heart.

Susie will eventually go home,
I must always remember that. Perhaps by that time I would be expecting our own child. Susie would be deeply missed, but it would help to know that someone, some other little one, was on the way to fill the emptiness.

I waited for the story to end and then called them both for supper. We bowed our heads for the evening grace and Susie reached out for a hand from each of us, our custom when praying together.

I held the little hand in mine and said my own quiet prayer as Wynn prayed aloud. I prayed for Susie, our dear little girl. I would always think of her as ours. Uniquely ours. And yet not. I prayed that God would give me daily wisdom. I prayed for her salvation. I prayed for the salvation of her mother and family. Without that, Susie did not have much chance when she went back home.

My thinking changed as I sat there bowed in prayer. I saw clearly that if I wanted to affect Susie’s life for good, then I had to work with her whole family. I must do more. I must reach out. I needed God’s help and direction.