LAKE OF THE SWANS
Book 2 of 3
Chapter 46
Not an hour had passed after the tug-of-war when Ellie pushed her head under John’s arm. The problem was that her head was too big to fit under John’s arm. Still, she had somehow gotten it under there, hiding her eyes.
“What’s she doing?” asked Laureal.
“She does this sometimes,” his arm out like that of a scarecrow, hanging at the elbow, leaving only the giant’s ears visible from his front.
“What does it mean?”
“She’s overwhelmed.”
With four children on her back and a gaggle of others ready to climb her legs like bugs if allowed, Ellie had been bearing children round and round in little circles all morning.”
Laureal stroked the giant’s neck, “Ellie, you’re such a good sport.” And turning to John, “Should we take her home?”
“Probably.”
Laureal lifted her eyes to the children on Ellie’s back. Four altogether in a row, three boys and one girl, their happy little smiles worth more than all the gold in the earth. She and John had been left alone with them and eight other children.
“What are we to do?” turning to John.
“For now…I think we’re stuck with them.”
“Do you want us to leave?” asked the eldest girl.
“Oh, no, Elsa! Not at all! But I do think we need to take Ellie home. Hey! How would you like to play with some puppies?”
“Oh, can we?” Sophie cried eagerly, having not yet received permission to share the puppies with other children.
“Shouldn’t we ask your grandmother first?” John asked, suddenly concerned.
“Nope,” shaking her head defiantly, “she’ll only say, ‘no.’”
“Last time I checked, ‘no’ still meant no.”
“The puppies are ready, and this is the perfect opportunity.”
“We should at least ask their parents.”
“John, they’re only puppies!”
“Yeah...wolf puppies.”
In the big tent, the elders adjourned to get some fresh air. As they exited, Elkhart came alongside Emma, “I think I’ll take a stroll, stretch my legs and clear my mind. Would you be so kind, Emma, as to honor me with your company?”
Perhaps the Matriarch accepted the offer for political reasons. Then again, perhaps not. Whatever the reason, Emma and Rutin set out side by side on a well-worn path into a grove of quaking aspens, whispering with a hundred thousand leaves in the breeze. Leaving the campgrounds, they went through the woods behind the Emerson’s backyard meadow, then around the backside of the monolith where, shaded by trees, the path ran between large boulders crusted in moss and lichens. They crossed a sunlit glade bright with green grass and wildflowers. Then, into the woods along the lakeshore where song-birds sang from every tree, or so it seemed. At last, they gained a pebbly beach several hundred yards north of the monolith and campground where, side by side, they gazed on the sparkling lake.
“I had planned on visiting you this spring,” Rutin began, turning to Emma, “I’d hoped to persuade you to come and join us. I felt sure that if you and Engle agreed to come, then other clans would follow. Then I heard the bad news, and, at that moment, my hopes were dashed. At least, that was my first reaction…selfish man that I am. But then I inquired about your state of affairs, and I was told you were here at the Lake of the Swans. I was taken by surprise all over again, but in a very different way.”
“When one door closes, the Great Spirit opens another.”
“Indeed, and I am glad you came, Emma.”
“As am I, Rutin.”
Rutin smiled warmly. Emma turned her eyes to the lake, “We very nearly came last year but put it off…as you know.”
“Well, the word is out now. The Emerson clan has risen from the ashes…and they’re at the Lake of the Swans.”
Emma returned her eyes to Elkhart. She knew his reputation as a single-minded man on a mission. She knew he was always aimed straight at his objective, even when taking an angle. He and his band of warriors had spent the spring and early summer traveling from clan to clan, his goal to persuade the clans to attend the rendezvous and join the cause.
“Rutin.”
“Yes.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing.”
“Thank you, Emma,” smiling, showing off straight rows of teeth. Then, as his smile faded, “This spring, as I traveled about, everyone was willing to listen, and talk, and complain…lots of complaining, but when it comes to actually stepping out on a limb, well, I guess I can’t blame folks for being wary.”
“Well, with regard to today,” Emma began, “after what we witnessed, perhaps it is as you suggested…the Great Spirit has given us a kick in the pants.” She shot him a wry smile.
Rutin chuckled, albeit somewhat painfully. Then, squatting to the shoreline, he picked up a rock and slung it out over the water, “I am not one to take wild gambles, but life’s a gamble, and like my grandfather used to say, ‘the path is only as difficult as it is full of promise.’”
Emma watched as the rock skipped once, twice, three times. “I haven’t skipped rocks in forever,” squatting and searching for a fitting candidate.
Perhaps it is telling that, in the absence of danger from crocodiles, riptides, and the like, teenagers around the world find no greater pleasure than jumping from a high rock into water. And presently at the monolith, that was precisely the case. Up and down they went in summer sunshine, over and over again: Cody and Rowe, Jacques, Dexter, Carla, and Lars. The teens had left the camp events for a swim break and, climbing to one of the monolith’s many ledges, Rowe looked towards the campgrounds, where, partially obstructed by birch and pines, she happened to glimpse the Emerson backyard meadow where John, Laureal, and the children played with the puppies. The pups had been off limits to all but herself and a few others, and being cute as they were, playing with the children, it was only natural that Rowe wanted to take part in the fun.
It had taken some doing for John and Laureal to get all thirteen pups out of the pen. First had come the business of getting eleven small children to stay a safe distance back from the pen’s gate. This was accomplished with the help of the older kids, not to mention John’s offhand remark about a child who had gotten dragged into the pen and eaten the day before.
So it was, the children, being persuaded to remain at a distance, had waited eagerly while John and Laureal cracked the gate. What followed could only be described as a state of bliss—the magic mix of children and puppies playing out with giggles and squeals. Weya had remained in the pen, of course. Initially anxious, she had paced while looking on, then sat erect, only to finally lie down to observe like a sphinx.
Writhing in the grass, Noah laughed even as he tried mightily to keep Mattie, Garth, and Pumpkin from licking his mouth. “They always want to kiss me!”
Somewhat more dignified, Sophie and her friend Keera knelt with a pair of pups between them. Leo and Dora loved to chew but already understood the command to not bite. And even though they could not hold still for more than a few moments, they loved having their bellies rubbed. Their wide-open mouths, like great smiles, were outdone only by their wide-eyed expressions. Infectious they were, and the girls, being thoroughly infected, giggled and laughed.
Meanwhile, Storm, the alpha pup, had latched onto the hem of little Sheila’s dress, ferociously growling while shaking it back and forth until John turned to see—
“No!” thumping Storm’s bottom with a small stick, causing him to release with a yipe.
John then turned to Sheila, “That one requires special attention.”
Altogether, the pups were Storm, the alpha pup, followed by Dora, Dexter, Bella, and Biscuit. Leo, Lola, Daisy, and Garth. Riley, Pumpkin, Mattie, and Star.
Having skipped rocks together, Rutin and Emma sat gazing over the water.
“When I was a boy, my grandfather took my brother and I fishing on this lake. There was no rendezvous back then but only a few families that came here in summer. I remember the three of us sitting in his canoe, when, out of the blue, Grand-dad looks at us and says, ‘We can make canoes to go on the water and catch the trout, but we cannot make the water or the trout. We can make snowshoes to walk in the forest, but we cannot make the snow or the trees. We can make arrowheads to hunt the elk, but we cannot make the rocks or the elk.’ I’ll never forget,” Rutin chuckled, “Granddad stood up in the boat, held his hands up to all of this and said, ‘With all the great things that we can make from this, we couldn’t make this if our lives depended on it! And yet, blessing of all blessings, here we are smack-dab in the middle of it!’”
Emma smiled, “It is a blessing.”
“Indeed, to be included in this miracle…it is the blessing of all blessings.”
Quietly they sat, taking in their surroundings, exchanging glances, until at last Elkhart broke the silence, “We should head back soon.”
“Could I offer you a drink of tea along the way?”
“Why yes, Emma,” rising and offering her his hand, “I would like that very much.”
Going around the backside of the monolith, they picked up a path that would take them to the Emerson backyard meadow. Because the path was narrow, Emma went first, adhering to the age-old protocol of ‘ladies first’ in civil situations—the custom being that a gentleman should protect a lady’s back while also watching for threats from the front, in which case he could step around the lady to protect her.
Presently, Emma did not expect anyone to be home due to the events taking place in the main campgrounds directly to the south. Thus, she could only wonder at the voices coming through the trees. Voices of teens mixed with the squeals of small children. She sped up so that she might get ahead of Rutin, where, alas, catching a glimpse of her backyard meadow, she could not have been more surprised. Scarcely a stone’s throw ahead and just visible through the trees, an impromptu yard party consisted of several young adults, a handful of teens from the monolith, a gaggle of small children, and thirteen wolf puppies, some of which zoomed about so wildly, one could only guess they were having their first taste of freedom.
“Oh, good grief,” Emma uttered to herself, and turning around, she hurried back down the path, that she might have a chance to prepare Rutin. The last thing she wanted was for him to get the wrong impression, what with the children being there in her backyard with a wolf! Stepping fast, she came around a tree, caught her toe on a root, and stumbled headlong into Elkhart’s arms—
“Emma!” he exclaimed, catching her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course,” gazing up at him, pushing her long gray bangs from her face and, feigning composure.
“You disappeared on me.”
“I’m sorry,” still in his arms. “I thought I’d do a little scouting.”
“What is there that needs scouting around here?” gently releasing her, craning that he might see through the trees. “What’s happening up there?”
“Nothing much, really. The neighborhood kids are playing.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, they’re playing with some puppies, under adult supervision, of course,” as if it were all part of a plan.
A wry grin spread across Rutin’s lips, “And these pups, would they be from your, ‘magic dog?’”
“Yes,” cringing.
“Well, we have a little time yet,” charmingly. “And I would love to see them. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“No…no, of course not.”
Emerging from the woods, Emma and Rutin watched as silence swept through the meadow like a contagion. Even the pups stopped to turn and see what had gotten everyone’s attention.
Coming forward, Laureal launched into a rapid-fire explanation, “Grandmother, John and I were giving rides in the campground and Ellie got worn out so we needed to bring her home but we had all these kids and they wanted to play with the puppies, and well, it just seemed a perfect opportunity. A few parents came along to help out, and then Cody and Rowe showed up with their friends, and…
“I get the picture, dear,” gracefully cutting off her granddaughter’s speech. Then, glancing over at Weya just there in her pen, lying on her stomach like a sphinx, panting not from heat but from stress, she returned her eyes to Laureal, “I think their mother is ready to have them back now.” And looking to Rutin, “We’ve had them out on numerous occasions, and they’re coming along very well.”
No more had Emma spoken than a series of growls came from the ground at their feet, “Grrrrrr! Grrrrrr! Grrrrrr!”
All eyes dropped to Storm, presently latched onto the hem of Rutin’s buckskin pants.
“Grrrrrr!” tugging with all his might, shaking back and forth, “Grrrrrr!”
John came forward with a switch in hand.
Storm saw the switch and ran for his mother.
Sheepishly, Laureal smiled up at Elkhart, “There’s one in every crowd.”
“I’m so sorry, Rutin,” Emma apologized, visibly beside herself, “I’ll mend your pants, of course.”
“Oh, Emma…I don’t think he hurt them any.”
John walked after the pup. His tone was calm but firm, “There’s a price to be paid for misbehavior.”
Unable to get through the fence and back into the pen with his mother, Storm cringed and whimpered as if to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
Discarding his switch, John bent to pick up the pup, only to pause and lift his eyes to Weya, “Trust me.” Then, taking Storm up in his arms, he returned to Emma and Rutin—
“Storm is our alpha pup. He’s very smart and, believe it or not, very friendly. He just can’t control his hot blood at this stage…so we have to help him learn.”
Elkhart looked on approvingly, “He’s a fine-looking pup.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“He’ll lead a sled team someday, I suppose.”
“Yes, I believe he will.”
“You have the makings of two sled teams here,” looking around himself.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, that is very good,” the wheels in his head turning. “Very good indeed!”
“Shall we have that tea?” Emma asked.
“Thank you, Emma. That would be nice.”
As the elders went towards the longhut, John and Laureal overheard Rutin saying, “You’ve done impressively well here, Emma.”
And so it was that things worked better than expected. Emma and Rutin sat on the porch and had their tea, then departed for the big tent. The infectious nature of joy and laughter, so contagious when seen in the faces of children, served perhaps as no better primer for elders on their way to deciding the future.
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