Page 79 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

I laugh because her confession somehow makes us allies. When I get serious again, I notice her watching me. There’s something in her eyes that reminds me of our first encounter at the visitor center. A mixture of fascination and curiosity. Back when she was observing me across the shelves, clutching the can of bear spray like a lifeline. Back when I would have had the opportunity to write a different future for us.

I swallow again and Lou suddenly seems hopelessly lost. Disoriented, she blinks, then looks into the rising, dark smoke and hastily carries on talking.

“He named the animals that came to him according to their temperament. And after living and talking with them for many, many winters, he could suddenly understand their language too… It must have been a significant morning for Delsin: waking up and hearing the forest full of whispers that he understood.” Ours gazes meet again, but this time Lou is not distracted. “Indeed, Delsin felt as if he had awakened to a new world. He ate nuts with the squirrels, sang with the crickets and birds, and walked with the deer. And deep inside him he heard a voice saying: This is you. This is your place. No one laughed at him here, no one stared at him. Every animal spoke to him. At night, he would listen to the stars play, watch his yellow friend the moon, and thank the Great Spirit for finally being home.” She pauses, petting Grey.

“Is that the end?” I ask. It would be a good ending to a sad story, but I want Lou to keep talking. She has never spoken for so long at a time.

I’m relieved when she shakes her head.

“The story goes on,” she explains calmly. “As I said, several winters and summers had passed.”

Excited, I lean back.

“Delsin could have been happy. But eventually, he started longing for a mate.” Another look from Lou darts over to me, shy and fragile. “He wandered back to his tribe’s summer camp, but stayed hidden in the bushes. It seemed everyone there had completely forgotten about him. Nobody talked about him, nobody spoke his name. His father and sister went happily about their daily business. He crept back, head hanging, when he passed the narrow creek that was a tributary of the Big Muddy River and encountered a few young Indian girls drawing fresh water with their wooden buckets. Delsin froze. He spent several days hiding without them noticing him. One, in particular, appealed to him. She always came later than the others and stayed longer. Her name was Istu. That means sugar. Everything about her was sweet. From her full mouth to her straight black hair and shapely breasts, just big enough to fit perfectly in Delsin’s hands. After a few days spent as if in a trance, he returned to the forest. Forgetting the moon and the stars and the animals, he wished more than ever that he wasn’t Delsin. Not to be like that! To be different. To bear a name worthy of Istu. But he knew with all his heart that day would never come. He withdrew, grieved for something he could never have, and grew angry with the Great Spirit. The animals came to comfort him, but in his anger he pushed them away. He renounced his friendship with the moon and from then on was alone again. Another gray, lonely shadow.”

Like me. A faded ghost in the solitude of the Yukon.

“But then one morning when it was very cold, the hoot of an owl woke him. It cried about a mighty army of warriors approaching from the north in an attempt to attack the Lakota tribe. When Delsin heard this, his heart was filled with fear. He thought of Istu’s sweet lips as well as her breasts. He rushed back, a few does at his side telling him the enemy’s plans as they had overheard them during the night. The enemy tribe wanted to encircle the village and raze it to the ground in a single battle. They wanted to steal the winter supplies and keep only the unmarried girls alive.

“Delsin burned with anger when he heard this and ran even faster. He traveled for three days and three nights. When he arrived at his village, no one believed him. They formed a circle around him and pushed him around and laughed at him. His father’s friend, Istu’s father, even wanted to kill him. In his eyes, Delsin had come to bring misfortune upon them all. He stated that maybe Delsin himself might have betrayed their encampment to the army—as revenge for ostracizing him. But his daughter, Istu, stood in front of Delsin and protected him from her father with her arms wide open. In that moment, Delsin realized that Istu’s name transcended her sweet lips. She managed to get the Lakota to listen to him. His father wanted proof of his ability to talk to animals, so Delsin talked to a lame horse and immediately found out the reason for its limp. It had a purulent hoof ulcer, caused by a stone that had gotten stuck in it that was not visible from the outside. The Lakota were stunned. Delsin provided further evidence and the tribe was filled with respect because none of their own had ever spoken to the animals before. They began setting traps and moving their supplies to safety. Women and children were housed with a neighboring tribe, which in turn, provided them with a number of young warriors. So it happened that the enemy army found an empty village and was surrounded.

“Not a single Lakota died, but all enemies fell. It was like a miracle.

“That evening, as the autumn sun reddened the few leaves on the trees, Delsin’s father came and knelt before him. ‘I have always denied that you were my son,’ he said heavily. ‘And I was right. I’m not worthy to be your father. Someone like you comes from the Great Spirit. Today, you saved our tribe. Without you, we would have been lost.’ With those words, everyone else fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

“Delsin’s father said: ‘From today on you shall no longer be called Delsin, son of the Great Spirit, but Silver. Because what is gray? Gray is silver that does not shine. But today you shone, Silver, all of us saw it.’

“Delsin had tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t ashamed. He pulled his father to his feet and said aloud, ‘My name is Delsin: he is like that. If I were not like that, I would never have learned the language of animals and you would have been lost, understand? It was only because I am the way I am that I was able to save you. My mother chose that name well.’

“And so Delsin kept his name. A month later, he married on the banks of the Big Muddy River, now called the Missouri, Istu, whose heart was even sweeter than her mouth or breasts.”

Lou falls silent and this time I instinctively know it must be the end of the story. I float in the bubble created by Lou as if in timeless space. Images of the wild Lakota, the glittering stars, and the gray-skinned boy float past me like memories. Good memories of which there are so few. Memories Lou gave me. I feel like I’m in a river where I would like to be carried along forever. Along with Delsin and his father’s words: Gray is silver that does not shine. I repeat the sentence in my head, but the more I say it to myself, the darker and heavier I feel. Out of reflex, I reach for the coin on my bracelet. A strange numbness rises from my stomach to my throat and settles there. I swallow the lump, only thinking how much I craved words of appreciation as a child. Or for a father’s smile, a kind pat on the back, arms to hold and protect me.

I don’t want to feel like this.

Too dangerous.

The images of the Lakota fade the longer I sit by the fire. At some point, I feel the coolness of the night air on my neck and hear the crackling and cracking of the fire. Smoke billows in erratic gusts from right to left, biting my nose. In the forest, perhaps even near the cliffs, the wolves howl their dark, plaintive song.

I look at Lou. Her face is still at ease, her posture relaxed. I hope it has been good for her to share Jayden’s story with me. Maybe I should ask her to tell me about her life more often. Maybe she can cope better that way.

Before she senses me watching her, I peer into the darkness of the trees and listen to the wolves howling. Suddenly, Lou starts giggling next to me.

“There’s nothing there, Grey,” she scolds affectionately.

I turn to both of them. Grey cocks his head in the air and licks Lou’s fingers, which she generously offers him. He must have woken up to the howling of his own kind.

“Stay with him, I’ll go make the milk.” I get up and am about to go to the RV when I pause for a moment and look at her.

“What is it?” Lou looks up.

“Gray is silver that does not shine. He’s the same, like the light and dark sides of the same thing. Is that why you told me the story?” I had been thinking about it earlier while I was trapped in her dreamy bubble.

Lou looks at me in amazement. “I told it because you wanted me to. If I had wanted to insinuate something with this story, I would have added that Delsin kidnapped Istu when she was fetching water.”

“And how would the story have ended then?”

Lou tilts her head. “I have no idea. That would depend on Delsin.”

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