Long Snows Moon (12 page)

“May I?” Devon asked, taking the bottle and
wine opener from her.

“I saw my mother open one with a butter knife
once,” Jameson smiled.

“I’ve opened one against a wall with nothing
but a towel,” Devon said. “I guess necessity is the mother of
invention, right?” She removed the cork without a crumble and
handed the bottle back. “That was a good wisdomism, huh?”

“Yes very good. I wish I’d written all of my
mother’s sayings down.” She perched on the coffee table with an ice
pack on Devon’s ankle. “She used to say things like, ‘fly high and
you can see more clearly’.”

Devon took a generous sip of her wine. “I
seem to have heard that today,” Devon muttered. “You don’t have to
hold that all night. It’s numb. Come sit next to me. There is a big
black bird out there stealing your mother’s lines.”

“She is highly quotable. How does your head
feel?”

“Whatever was in that tea of yours really
worked and the heat from your hands brought the swelling in my
ankle down immediately. What did you do on me, energy healing?
Reiki?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Jameson you are magical and I am awestruck
by your talents. Thank you again for rescuing us.”

“My pleasure.” Jameson smiled. “I’m glad
you’re going to stay. Look at Moon. She is out for the night. You
both need to rest. I want to be sure you are both in good condition
before you get on the road again, and no more drinking and
driving.”

She topped off Devon’s glass.

“That’s one way to get me to stay.”

“It’s settled then.”

“Is that your bedroom?” Devon referred to the
room behind the divider.

“That was my mother’s room. It is my art
studio now. This has always been my bedroom. I set it up as a
living room because it is more functional this way. The couch pulls
out into a bed. You can sleep here. It’s really comfy.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“I have a cot I’ll set up for myself in the
other room.”

Devon narrowed her eyes. “You can’t be this
nice.”

Jameson shrugged off the compliment and
sipped her wine.

“So Berry, the puppy I met when we were
fourteen, was Moon’s mother? Isn’t that some strange shit? I know
you don’t believe in coincidence, but, come on, it’s weird.”

“It’s not strange. Our lives go in a circle,
joining end-to-end and continuing. Sometimes you are able to see
the joins but sometimes where the circle meets is vague.”

“Is that the kind of thing your mother used
to say?” Devon asked.

Jameson laughed. “Yes, actually it is.”

“So since she passed you’ve live out here all
alone?”

“Most of the time.”

“And sometimes she stays with you?” Devon
asked, reaching over Moon and picking up a framed photograph from
the end table.

Jameson said. “Our visits are rare. People
grow apart and realize they were never together, at all.” She took
the photo from Devon and put it face down.

“That’s for damn sure,” Devon agreed. “I know
that firsthand. It breaks my heart to think of you out here all by
yourself.”

“Why?” Jameson asked.

“I don’t know why,” Devon said. “My own
loneliness, maybe projection.”

“I’m used to being alone.”

“Me, too,” Devon admitted, avoiding Jameson’s
eyes.

“This wine is good.” She slid down onto the
couch. “It’s nice out here. Peaceful. Listen to that, wow. Listen
to the wilderness out there.”

“Yes, it lulls me to sleep every night.”

“I love the way the moon winks in through
that high window over there. I love it here,” Devon whispered.

“You do?”

“I love it.”

Jameson stroked Devon’s hair and watched her
face in the candle’s glow. They talked about mundane things.

Devon finished her wine and rested her head
on Jameson’s lap, her legs draped over Moon’s dozing body. She
gazed up at Jameson and stroked her braids.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she breathed.
“And I can’t believe you are wearing your hair in braids.”

Jameson laughed, only when I exercise. She
touched Devon’s face, tracing the outline of her lips with her
forefinger.

“What does this mean?” Devon asked. She felt
a warm glow wash over her. She stared into Jameson’s glistening
eyes. “What does this mean?” she repeated, taking Jameson’s hand
and kissing it.

“When two souls are meant to unite physical
form is irrelevant. It is society that imposes limitations.”
Jameson breathed. “The moon and the trees and the animals don’t
care. They observe with delight the blessed union of souls.”

“That was beautiful,” Devon muttered as she
met Jameson’s kiss.

When they pulled away Devon stared up at
Jameson’s wild eyes and whispered, “Tell me what you thought about
the day we met and tell me about your mother.”

Otherwise known as the greatest day of my
life?” Jameson said. “I can show you, close your eyes and let me
take you on a relaxation meditation. Imagine the day we met, the
climate, the time of day. See me, the greenhouse and the wolf
puppies. Relax and breathe.”

Devon obeyed. She took three deeps breaths
and let Jameson guide her.

“
Smell the flowers blooming in the
greenhouse, see the puppies, see me.”

* * * *

When the girl named Shadow Wolf was gone
Jameson went back to check on the puppies. She put the escapee back
inside and closed the door. Doc Jo Jo would scold her if the
puppies escaped and tunneled their way into ‘no man’s land’. Behind
the greenhouse, in a perfect and tidy fifty-foot-by-fifty-foot
square, was her mother’s herb garden. A place no one but Doc Jo Jo
entered. It was a place where her mother experimented with her
hybrid plants. She had a recent and long awaited victory when one
of her experiments began to cultivate. To ensure their safety, Doc
erected a six-foot privacy fence composed of wood elaborately woven
through with chicken wire to enclose the area. On the gate was a
heavy padlock and Doc Jo Jo wore the only key on the chain around
her neck. The garden was Doc Jo Jo’s pride. She would spend hours
weeding and fussing over her plants while Jameson tended the store.
She would dry the plants and use their roots and leaves for
ointments, creams and various teas. She sold them in the shop along
with her own blend of tobacco.

Her customers knew her well, and trusted her.
Her regulars found her to be eccentric in light of the tepee shaped
store but inspired by her deep connection to Mother Earth. She
often did lecture circuits on her hybrid plant research and the
Native American mythology. The local tribes knew her for what she
was, a medicine woman. They still came to her for healing of the
spirit as well as the body. To Jameson she was Doc Jo Jo, Mom, or
Crazy Plant Woman. She was a teacher and a joyous companion. She
was tireless in her patience and infinite in her knowledge.
Nevertheless, she was a perfectionist who was obsessed with her
life’s work, a hybrid herb that was still in its elementary stages
of development. The plant liked direct sunlight and lots of water.
Regrettably, many of the animals that inhabited the nearby woods
found the plant irresistible. Doc Jo Jo, consumed with keeping the
critters out and her new plant safe, summoned him for
protection.

Jameson knew he was still out there, watching
her. She sensed him in the woods beyond the garden, camouflaged in
the tangle of trees. She sought his yellow eyes. She had given him
a simple signal that said all was fine and not to worry about his
young. She gave him another signal now and he came to her.

Her gaze did not falter as Two Stars
approached her. He loped along the edge of the garden and stopped
at the green house door. She knew she must never show him fear. He
was a wolf after all, not a loving pet like Ducks, but a wild and
untamable creature. He liked Jameson and often nuzzled her and
allowed her to stroke his matted head. He smelled to high heaven,
he had some burrs on his legs, and it appeared one was bleeding.
Jameson took a piece of the meat her mother kept in the greenhouse
refrigerator and offered it to him hoping he would come in, hoping
he would stay. She wanted to get some ointment on the cut and to
snip off the biting burrs.

Two Stars fixated on the meat and moved
toward her, his head bent low, but by no means acquiescent. He
limped, and as he got closer, Jameson saw that his hind leg was
torn. A flap of skin hung like a pink tongue and was matted with
dirt. He stopped and greeted his young as they pounced at him and
nipped at his feet. He moved past them for the meat. Jameson placed
it on the ground before her. Two Stars snatched it and limped from
the greenhouse back into the woods.

“You’re going to get him killed, child,” her
mother said, appearing in the doorway.

“Why do you say that?” Jameson asked.

“If you feed him from your hand you make him
see people as bearing food. He could get shot if he approaches
someone.”

“He avoids people, you know that,” Jameson
told her.

“The other wolves won’t tolerate him if they
know he doesn’t hunt for his own food. They will think of him as
weak. Perhaps he is a lone wolf and has no pack to protect
him.”

“The other wolves won’t let him in their
pack? That’s not nice,” Jameson, pouted. “Why?”

“Perhaps he won’t succumb to the hierarchy or
is too impatient to wait his turn to become the alpha wolf.”

“I think it’s because he loves Ducks and the
other wolves don’t like that.”

“You believe prejudice and judgment exists in
the animal world as in our own?”

“Yes, I do,” Jameson, declared. “And I think
Two Stars is the king of all the wolf packs, that’s why he’s not in
just one.”

Doc Jo Jo nodded, moved by her daughter’s
insight. “Do you see what you just learned from Two Stars? Perhaps
that was his purpose, to teach you about hierarchy and humility.
Meanwhile, toss the meat into the woods next time as I do. Trust me
it’s safer for all concerned. Besides, you fed him our dinner,” her
mother laughed. “The wolf is fed but we’ll go to bed hungry
tonight.”

“That hunk of meat wasn’t our dinner. You got
it for Ducks and Two Stars,” Jameson giggled. “You said we’re
having spaghetti tonight at the Italian restaurant in town.”

“Did I say that? I can’t remember,” her
mother teased.

“You said it, you know you did,” Jameson said
hugging her.

“How are the pups doing?” Doc Jo Jo asked,
stroking her daughter’s untidy braids.

“These pups really favor Ducks, especially
Berry. They don't look as wolfy as the last litter. Thank you for
letting me keep her.”

“I’m glad she makes you happy. She will be a
longtime companion, train her well and with a stern hand.”

“I will,” Jameson promised.

“Did you make a new friend today?”

“Yes, Devon. She doesn't realize she has two
mothers.”

Her mother smiled. “Talk about a stern hand,
huh?”

“The dark haired mom is aggressive and wants
to control Devon because she is afraid of what she might become,”
Jameson nodded. “The other mom is natural and easy. She looks
familiar to me. I think she has been to the store before. Well,
they sometimes argue over the girl on how to raise her. It confuses
Devon and makes her mad.”

“Devon seemed taken by Ducks,” Doc Jo Jo
noted.

“She loved the puppies. She has no fear of
wolves.”

“I’ll bet she’d be afraid of Two Stars.”

“Nope, she met him and wasn't afraid. He
liked her, too.”

Jameson knew he watched them from the woods.
“I wish Two Stars could come live with us. I worry about where he
sleeps and if he’s scared in the dark.”

“He sleeps with his ear against the breast of
his mother earth,” Doc Jo Jo philosophized. “The dark holds no fear
for him as it might hold for you.”

“But his leg is torn and bleeding.”

“I’ll dress it tomorrow. It is getting late.
Let’s get inside and get washed up for dinner.”

“I gave Devon my arrowhead.”

“You did? I thought you said you’d never give
up your first carving.”

“I know, but I was compelled to give it to
her.”

“Compelled?” Doc Jo Jo grinned.

“Yes, she needs it for courage and balance
and for drunkenness.”

“Drunkenness? She couldn’t have been more
than thirteen or fourteen.”

“Later on,” Jameson replied. “When she’s
grown.”

“I see.”

“Plus it’s her mineral totem.”

“Very good, my dear. All of my nagging has
paid off since you are studying some of your father’s books.”

“He knew a lot about Native spirituality for
a white man.”

“He studied hard and learned well. He was
accepted into the Buffalo Tribe right before he died, the first
white man they ever welcomed.”

“I know. I wish I remembered him more.”

“He lives in here,” her mother touched her
heart, “and in here,” she touched Jameson’s heart.

“I know,” Jameson smiled. “I have one of his
books under my pillow and it has his picture on the back. I kiss it
every night before I go to sleep.”

“I know, so do I.” Doc Jo Jo hugged her
daughter. Jameson noticed that her mother blinked back sudden
tears. “Run along and get cleaned up, we don’t want to be out all
night. I need my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” Jameson told her,
reaching out and wiping a tear from her cheek.

Joann Jordan took her daughter’s hands. “You
are the most precious thing your father gave me, so wise beyond
your years.”

“You’ll never love another man,” Jameson
knew.

“No I won’t,” her mother agreed. “There will
never be another man in my life.”

“There will never be another man in mine,
either,” Jameson said as she bounded up the stairs.

Doc Jo Jo smiled to herself as she closed her
eyes. Jameson felt her mother peer into her future. She heard her
sigh.