Salt Read Free Page B

carry home, after drying out here in the sun all day.
    The weather’s good: warm, but not too hot, no rain, not many
    flies or mosquitoes. Black and orange butterflies
    all around us, like flying flowers,
    and others, deep purple-
    blue, the color
    of the
    sky
    on a half-moon night.
    Here’s where we left the cattails.
    What? Who did this? Why are all these hornets
    flying everywhere, so lost
    and angry?

JAMES
    What happened to your face? Ma asks. Don’t want her to know about the cattails.
    Hornet nest, I say—maybe that’ll be enough. But she keeps asking questions
    until she figures out what happened. Like I expect, she says, You’ll have to
    go back and cut new cattails . Then: I’ll go with you. As we walk, Molly laughs
    at the butterflies fluttering around her, the wind blowing through her hair.
    Could’ve been a good time. No hornets—no Isaac. But when we get to where
    the cattails are, Anikwa is already there with his family, studying the tracks
    around the broken reeds. My moccasins and Isaac’s boots—the same size.
    They look at my feet. Do they notice that it’s Isaac’s muddy tracks, not mine,
    that ruined all their cattails? Anikwa’s grandma looks at me like she can
    see my thoughts. She searches around, picks some plants, takes my face
    in her hands, and presses leaves on all the hornet stings—cool on my hot skin.
    I don’t look at her. (Sometimes I’m glad she can’t talk English.) I watch
    to see what Anikwa does—then take out my knife and start cutting cattails.

SALT CRYSTALS SHINE
    Sunlight travels
    through the sky
    as water flows
    within the earth
    dissolving salt,
    carrying it on.
    When salty water
    surfaces to light,
    salt crystals shine,
    a jeweled ring
    around this shallow
    pool of brine.

ANIKWA
    The longhouse
    is finished. Now we’re helping
    Kwaahkwa’s family put the roof on their log
    house, and stuff the cracks with moss.
    Soon it will be time to bring in
    our corn and dry it
    for the winter.
    If we dry enough corn
    and fish and meat; if snow doesn’t
    come too soon, or last too long; if no one
    gets sick this year—maybe we will all survive until
    next summer. Today lots of friends and relatives from
    other villages are coming. We’ll have games—
    lacrosse and tossball—food and music,
    stories, dancing. Come on, Toontwa,
    let’s get plenty of firewood,
    so the fire will last
    all night long.
    This time,
    he comes running,
    glad to help, because he knows
    the longer we keep the fire burning, the more
    time we’ll have with our friends
    and cousins.

JAMES
    I have my snares in my pocket, and I know exactly where to set them.
    I’m heading out the door, when Ma says, Wait a minute, James . What?
    She’s always glad to see me snare some rabbits. She likes rabbit meat,
    and she needs a few more skins to make a coat and hat for Molly.
    She hesitates. Maybe you should stay inside the stockade today, she says.
    But, Ma, I argue, there’s no rabbits inside the stockade! She frowns.
    Well, something’s been eating my cabbages. See what you catch in my garden.
    I tried that already. Everyone knows, rabbits like to stay on their trails.
    Yesterday, one hopped down the river trail and looked right at me,
    like a challenge. I won’t go far, I say. I promise! She’s thinking about it.
    I’ll pick some blackberries, I add. All right, she finally says. But don’t go
    farther than the berry patch. And … let me know if you see anything unusual.
    I’m out the door, through the stockade gate, and halfway to the trail
    before I stop to wonder what Ma means by “anything unusual.”

ANIKWA
    Kwaahkwa is our
    best lacrosse player, but he sure
    likes to tease the little kids. Toontwa, he says,
    you call that a stick? That little twig
    with an acorn on the end?
    Toontwa is proud
    of his stick.
    He worked hard
    on it, and I helped him.
    What do you