Free Totem by Jennifer Maruno Page A

beach.
    â€œHiding out in that cave was a big mistake,” Ernie said.
    Jonny knew Ernie wasn’t happy living in the village. He couldn’t use the two-pronged fishing spear with the same skill as the other boys. His slingshot wasn’t the right kind of weapon for a mountain goat or big-horned sheep. His success with the harpoon wasn’t any better than the youngest girl.
    â€œWe must have passed through some kind of gap in time,” Ernie said. He grabbed a handful of stones and threw them toward the waves in anger. “I’m going back.”
    â€œHow are you going to do that?” Jonny asked. “We don’t know what caused it. How do you know it will happen again?”
    Ernie put his head in his hands. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I’ll just go to the cave and wait. Maybe one day I’ll wake up and find myself where I should be.”
    Jonny never wanted to go back. For the first time in his life he didn’t feel lonely, out of place, or hungry. “Good luck.”
    Kalaku had fastened several saplings together with cedar ropes to make a skid. Tommy-Two and the chief’s wife loaded it with his payment for the pole. They stacked baskets filled with berry cakes and smoked salmon onto a wooden box filled with oil. On top of that went finely woven wool leggings and tunics, a cedar-bark robe, and a fur cape. Kalaku wore a new wide-brimmed hat with a band of copper disks. His new pendant of abalone shell caught the sun and sparkled like his eyes.
    Silver Cloud appeared at his side wearing a coat of bear fur. She carried a large lidded basket and a string of several small ones. “I am coming to harvest medicine,” she said.
    Kalaku placed his bundle of carving tools on top with care. Jonny did the same. They fastened it all into place with cedar ropes.
    Ernie kept himself busy fixing a pelt. After making small cuts on the feet of a marmot, he drew the pelt up over its head like a priest removing his cassock. Then he sheathed it over a pointed branch frame. His face remained rigid as he watched them cover the sled with large furs. He did not wave when they left.
    The winds from the northeast churned the powdery snow as the three of them made their way along the beach. Each, slightly bent into the whistling air, helped to pull the laden sled. When they entered the forest, the trail was treacherous with roots and fallen branches trapped by ice. Jonny was thankful for his new bear-paw shoes, a gift from Tommy-Two.
    They picked their way around the remains of a tree fallen across the trail. Silver Cloud broke off parts and piled it on the sled. Soon their only light came from the moon as they followed the frozen sandy track that led through the gorse and twisted stunted roots of windswept trees. When the path dwindled to a mere thread of sand they stopped in front of a small snow-covered hill, Jonny felt chilled to the bone. He looked about. There was no village, no building, not even a tent in sight.
    Kalaku brushed the snow from his shoulders and removed his cape. Silver Cloud did the same. To Jonny’s surprise, they pushed aside a heavy bough of spruce.
    â€œInside,” he said.
    Jonny removed his blanket and shook it before creeping into a surprisingly warm shelter. As his nose filled with the fragrance of warm earth, he looked about in wonder. The walls and ceiling were saplings, lashed together with cedar fibre. Frozen sod filled the cracks.
    Silver Cloud knelt beside a circle of stones and removed a small mound of hard clay from her cloak. She rapped it on a fire pit rock and cracked it open, like a large nut. The two halves of the shell fell apart, exposing some hot coals. She tipped the hot coals inside onto the dry grass in the stone circle and a small fire soon flamed. The little hut grew even more pungent with the smell of grass and cedar.
    After unpacking the sled, Jonny collapsed on a bed of evergreen boughs. That night, swaddled in