Free The Winter People by Bret Tallent

always said that Johnny was a "Puwarat", the possessor of
supernatural power.  But the Ute had always been superstitious and his
grandfather was a full blooded Ute.  It wasn’t that Johnny didn't realize that
he was slightly more gifted than others, he just didn't believe in the Ute
legends the way his grandfather did.  It’s not that he wasn't proud of his
heritage either.  He was simply rational and realistic.
    Johnny still loved
listening to Faywah's stories though, they were entrancing.  When he would tell
his stories of the Ute past, they would pull Johnny into them.  He would become
a part of their history, living it as the old man told it.  As his
grandfather's soft voice spoke in the old tongue each word or phrase would have
a hypnotic effect.  It was a combination of the language, the story, and his
grandfather's retelling of it.
    Johnny could
actually smell the smoke from a large central fire.  He could feel its warmth
on his face as his body swayed to the rhythmic chimes of Faywah's voice.  Then
he could see faces, dozens of faces around the huge fire.  All captivated by
the speaker, all weathered and hard.  These were proud faces with the
distinctive features that marked the Ute tribe.  Their eyes ablaze with the
reflective glow of the fire, their stomachs full with venison.
    Behind them were
the darkness of the woods and the cold snows of winter.  These stories were
told only in the winter, when the snows were deep.  Otherwise, something bad
might befall them.  They were mostly stories of incredible beasts or the
bravery of a Ute warrior against some Puwarat creature, but always they were of
incredible danger.  The favorite story of his grandfather was of the
"People Eaters", the ancient race of cannibalistic Ogres that preyed
upon the Ute in the dead of winter.  Then, he would always end his story with,
"I tell the truth and I do not know if it is a lie or not."
    Johnny didn't
believe they were Ogres of course, more likely just a tribe of cannibalistic
Indians that the Ute had fought once long ago.  But he still loved to hear
about them.  And, the truth was that the story even frightened him a little. 
Something left over from his childhood, he thought.  When he had heard it for
the first time he'd had nightmares for a month.  He could see Ogres in his
dreams.  Huge creatures that he was sure could not have been of this earth. 
For surely the Sinawaf could not have made such a beast to share this planet
with us.
     
    ***
    Johnny had pulled
off his parka, gloves, and face mask then slipped out of his snow boots.  He
padded quietly out of the entryway in stocking feet.  Before him was the main
room of the Ranger Station.  It was a fairly modern unit that looked like a
rustic log cabin from the outside.  Although Johnny always felt that it looked
like it had been made of Lincoln Logs.  The main room contained their radio
station, a large wooden table with six chairs, and a stone fireplace.  The
floors throughout the building were all hardwood, and were a bit cold to wake
up to in the winter months.  Hence, the men all ran around in socks and even
slept in them.
    At the table sat Clayton
Mead and Ted Frazier, the other two Rangers at the station.  Ted had just
relieved Johnny tonight for the next week and in the morning he would go home
to his grandfather.  Ted was amiable, tall and slender.  He was a gentle Texan
with a quiet side and preferred to avoid confrontation.  A near impossibility
with Clayton, Johnny thought.  In the five years that Ted had been a Ranger
there, Johnny had gone fishing with him a few times.  Ted kept pretty much to
himself.  He and his wife did couple things with a few other couples they'd met
since moving here.
    Mostly with
couples in Steamboat, Johnny guessed.  Copper Creek was not exactly a social
vortex.  But, Johnny got along with Ted well enough and that's all that
mattered to him.  He didn't have much use for Clayton though.  He was a