Night of the Full Moon Read Free

Together we named the flowers: lilacs and bluebells and the Maiden’s Blush roses. Every few minutes Mama would squeeze my hand so tightly it hurt.
    Papa must have ridden hard, because it wasn’t long before I heard the LaBelles’ wagon coming up our trail. The LaBelles were the first family we had met when we came to Saginaw. When we put up our cabin, Mr. LaBelle had helped us.
    Mrs. LaBelle, as tall and scrawny as a heron, marched in. She was all business, but you could see her gentleness in the way sheput her hand on Mama’s forehead. “Vinnie, don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve seen to more births than I can remember. Rob, spread a blanket in front of the fire to warm. Libby, you’re a good girl to have taken care of your mother. Now you must keep from getting underfoot. You can play outside until we call you.”
    “Papa,” I said, “tonight will be the full moon. Today is the naming day for Fawn’s little brother. Can’t we go?”
    “I couldn’t leave your mother, Libby. You must see that.”
    I hung at the doorway. If I just looked disappointed enough I was sure Papa would change his mind.
    Instead he became angry. “For shame, Libby! How can you think of your own selfish pleasure at a time like this?”
    Papa was right. I was cold-hearted. I should have been thinking of poor Mama. Only it seemed very hard to me to have to miss something I had looked forward to so much. Mama says I get my stubbornnessfrom Papa. I was determined to go to the naming day. Fawn had told me there would be games and a feast. I said, “The wild blackberries on the other side of the pond are ripe.” I added in what I hoped was a saintly voice, “I’ll take the bucket and pick some for Mama.”
    “That’s a good, thoughtful girl,” Papa said. But I could tell that his mind was on following Mrs. LaBelle’s commands.
    As soon as I was outside I ran in the opposite direction of the pond. I headed for the pine woods and the trail that led to the Indian camp. Even though I had never gone to the camp by myself, Fawn had often come from there to visit me, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t do the same. The path was a cushion of pine needles. Even my running made no noise. Soon I was out of the cool woods and in the meadow. Trees were scarce and the sun hot. When I came to a patch of wild blackberries, I hid the pail in a hollow tree. I would stop to pick some on my way back.

4
    A T THE Indian camp there were all kinds of wonderful things to see. The Indians were gathered in the clearing in front of their wigwams. Some of the children were watching the Indian men dancing to the beat of a drum, while others were playing ball or wrestling. Everyone was dressed up. The men had painted their faces in stripes and patches of yellow and red and wrapped their heads in bright cloths. They looked like magical birds. The women wore necklaces and earbobs of silver and beads. Even thechildren’s moccasins were embroidered with beaded flowers and leaves.
    Fawn was looking for me. “Where are your mother and father?” she asked.
    “Mama is having the baby,” I said. Luckily Fawn did not question me more.
    I hung back. Although everyone was friendly, suddenly I felt out of place. I tried to explain to Fawn. “Everybody looks so dressed up. I don’t fit in.”
    Fawn smiled. “Come to our wigwam.” She ran ahead of me. By the time I caught up with her, she had tumbled all the clothes from a large basket.
    “Here is my other dress,” she said. “Here are a pair of moccasins. And here is my ribbon I said you could have.” Hastily I threw off my shift and slipped into Fawn’s dress and moccasins. Fawn braided my hair with the ribbon and hung a necklace of beads around my neck. I longed to see myself in a mirror, but there was no mirror in the wigwam. We looked for Fawn’s mama. Menisikwe was dressed in a bright calico shiftembroidered with beads and fringed leggings sewn with ribbons. When she saw me, she threw up her hands.