places.
“Look well, and the story will tell itself,” he advised, studying two pairs of entangled antlers that pointed skyward. “Two moose fought here for the right to father the next generation. Their antlers became entangled and one of them died from a broken neck. See? The other could have died slowly from thirst. But I think not. Look at Crooked Ear.”
The young wolf was whining softly while snuffling his nose deep into the ground.
“I think that wolves found this trapped moose and they ended his life swiftly. Crooked Ear can smell them! Perhaps they were part of his family.
“And look at these tiny teeth marks on the bones! A mouse has gnawed here. The strong bones of the moose have passed even into the frail body of a mouse! The mouse will be eaten by an owl or a hawk or maybe even a wolf. And eventually the bleached bones that remain here will become part of the earth, enriching it and allowing it to grow grass that another generation of grazing animals. Everything in death returns to give life to others. A bird has even made a nest here in the crook of the antlers.”
Half asleep and half awake, Red Wolf watched strands of hair unravel from the abandoned nest and flutter in the breeze. The hair was long and dark like his mother’s. He wondered if it had been hers.
He opened his eyes and the crate closed in on him again. He was a prisoner. Fresh tears stung his sore eyes. He wondered if Crooked Ear had indeed been able to smell his family in the soil around the moose antlers. He hoped so. He wished that he had something to snuffle, something that would give him the faintest trace of his mother. He had nothing.
The light started to fade and a deer mouse darted though a gap between the boards. It paused, sat back on its haunches, and raised one dainty forepaw. Its delicate ears trembled and its long whiskers twitched, as though it was weighing the scent of danger against the aroma of food. Red Wolf breathed softly. The mouse scurried over his boot and up his leg. It gnawed anxiously at the crust of bread. Red Wolf longed to touch it, to stroke its velvety coat, to feel its warmth, but when he gingerly stretched out a hand, the mouse scampered away.
Reaching inside his coverall and deep into his trouser pocket, his fingers rubbed the wolf pendant. In a moment of inspiration he took the lace from his left boot, threaded it through the hole in the pendant and tied it around his neck. With the pendant tucked carefully inside his clothing and nestled against his chest, he felt better. Silently he prayed, Brother wolf, help me get away from here. But his prayer was answered by feelings of home that were almost too much for him to bear.
As darkness fell, cold seeped into his bones. He tucked himself into a ball, warming his hands under his armpits. Far off in the distance he heard the lonely howl of a wolf. He threw back his head and, as loud as he dared, howled a reply.
CHAPTER NINE
By the end of the first term Red Wolf had made a transition in language. Instead of translating English to Anishnaabemowin in his head, he now thought in English. He was stunned when he woke up one morning and realized that his dream had even been in English. He understood most of the instructions he was given throughout the day and many of the words in the lessons, although the concepts were confusing, especially in the religious studies classes. And due to the code of silence that was enforced for so much of the day, he had limited his opportunity to practice speaking the new language.
It was a school tradition that the Grade One class performed the pageant on Christmas Eve. Red Wolf didn’t understand what it was all about. Weeks ahead of time, Master Evans picked children to play the different roles. He chose the smallest boy in the class to be Mary. The boy was dressed in a blue robe and wore a sheet draped over his head, tied with a cord so it flowed over his shoulders and back. Master Evans announced that the biggest boy in the class would play the part of Joseph, but then changed his mind when he realized that Henry was the biggest boy. He gave the Joseph costume to the second biggest boy instead. Henry was not in the play, at least not dressed up as an actor. He had a special job as Master Evans’ assistant, working behind the scenes.
The three best boys in the class were selected as wise men. Their outfits were colourful and grand, with trailing cloaks, sparkling necklaces, and shiny crowns covered in glass beads. Red Wolf wished he were a wise man. He couldn’t stop wondering what gifts were inside the carved wooden boxes they carried. His own robe was simple and dull, coarse and itchy, and loosely tied at the waist with twine, but his headband reminded him of those worn by The People, and he went barefoot! It felt nice compared to the school uniform.
On the evening of the big show the children went to the barn. A silver star had been hung from the roof on a long piece of wire, and it glittered in the light from the lanterns. One of the cow stalls had been thoroughly cleaned and fresh straw strewn over the stone floor. A feed trough, so new you could smell the pine, was positioned in the middle of the stall, and a white baby doll, wrapped in a shawl, lay in the trough on an overflowing bed of hay.
The curious cows in the neighbouring stalls poked their heads over the dividing wall. Red Wolf was mesmerized. One, called Jersey, had a coat the colour of the forest floor in autumn, big brown eyes, large furry ears, and a wet black nose. She reminded Red Wolf of a deer. He stifled a laugh when her long pink tongue reached out to lick her own nostrils. Red Wolf stuck out his own tongue and stretched it upward. It didn’t go as far as his nose.
One grade at a time, the children came to the barn to see the show. Mary, in the blue robe, sat on a stool behind the feed trough and obeyed Master Evans’ directions to look down lovingly at the doll in the hay. Joseph stood next to the boy in blue and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. In response to Master Evans’ cue, Red Wolf led the shepherds excitedly down the barn aisle and through the open door of the stall. They each knelt at the feed trough and peered adoringly into the face of the doll, then regrouped on the right side of Joseph. Finally, the three wise men marched regally down the barn aisle and bowed respectfully in front of the feed trough. They put their gifts worshipfully on the ground, then stood on the left side of Joseph in what Master Evans called a balanced stage.
The actors then stood quietly while all of the children in the grade had the opportunity to look through the stall door at the scene, or peer over the wall if they were tall enough. Red Wolf felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at him. Then everyone sang the song that the entire school had spent weeks learning.
Away in a manger no crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay
(The silver star twinkled and twirled in the moving air … right over the feed trough.)
The little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay.
The cattle are lowing
(The cows mooed, as if on cue.)
The baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
(The boy in the blue robe picked up the doll and rocked it in his arms.)
I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
(The shepherds and wise men stared at the doll with smiles pasted on their faces.)
And stay by my side, until morning is nigh.
At the end of the song, Father Thomas beamed and the teacher ushered his class back to the school building, humming as he went. The wise men picked up their gift boxes and retreated to the far end of the barn, followed by the shepherds, where they all awaited the arrival of the next grade.
It
