Fire Visions

 Fire Visions

Story by Ally Allowinter 

          The annual trek to the great outdoors happened earlier this year. Daytime was still ending around seven-thirty, the air was cool and the morning grass was tinged with white frost. Daddy would light the fire before we woke. Catriona, my older sister of three years, would steal my blanket ending my journey in dreamland.

          We had chores. My duties, since I was a scrawny six-year-old with a slight limp from a fall I had when I was two, weren’t very hard. Catriona did most everything and often let me know how unfair it all was. “Dang it all, Dakota, can’t you carry a bigger bucket so we don’t have to go to the creek three times to get water?”

          After we’d eat eggs cooked on the cast iron skillet over the fire, drink hot chocolate, and gobble up the bacon, Mama and Daddy took us all over the mountain. One day we’d go to the caves. Another to the lake. My favorite day of all, was going to the gift shop in the little town on the other side of the mountain. It was warm and they had good candy in huge bins that you scooped out by yourself into little brown bags. But, walking the trails, smelling the pine, reaching the overlook and gazing upon the wilderness below, was my favorite thing about camping.

          We’d always eat lunch in a restaurant or stop at a roadside stall selling fruit and vegetables. Dinner was always at the campsite. The big cooler we brought had whole chickens which we roasted. Slabs of beef were cut into little cubes, combined with chopped potatoes and onions, then wrapped in foil and stuffed into the hot fire.  Food was good when we camped.

          When the sun went down, Daddy would bring out his guitar and we’d sing all kinds of songs, often making up stupid words to go to tunes we knew well. After about thirty minutes, it was usually time for bed.

          Because nights fell early this trip, we gathered around the fire for longer than usual. We sang our songs and still had an hour of night-time to sit and do nothing. We’d get all quiet and stare at the fire. Mom might start humming a bit, but soon that would trail off. The crackling fire became our music.

          On the second night of this off season camping trip, I noticed figures rising from the flames. “Mama, d’ya see that?”

          “See what, darling?”

          “Did you see the unicorn?”

          “Honey, there are no unicorns.”

          Catriona mocked me. “Yeah, stupid, there ain’t no unicorns.”

          Mama scolded, “Catriona, let your sister be. At least she has an imagination.”

          When Mama looked away, Catriona rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me.

          I ignored her and stared into the fire. There was a unicorn. It ran around darting in and out of the flames. But it was gone now. That made me sad. I liked watching the unicorn.

          Daddy looked at mama and she nodded. He turned back to me and Catriona and said, “Girls, we wanted to bring you camping early this year so you could experience what our great ancestors might have experienced. They were poor immigrants following a dream. They dreamt of fields so rich that corn grew eight feet high. They dreamt of water so clear they could see the reflection of fish swimming in schools and crawdads, creeping over rocks. They dreamt of freedom: Freedom to settle and become part of the landscape around them. Freedom to own the land they lived on. 

          “Your great, great, great, grandmother, Aileen, was about ten when her mother, Aine, and her father, Joseph, brought her up and over this mountain. It was a night in March, just like this one. There was little food on their journey, but they managed to catch a rabbit and roast it over the fire.”

          Catriona shrieked, “Ewe, they ate rabbit?”       

          “Yes. They ate deer, squirrel and opossum too, if they could catch them.”

           “Daddy.”

          “Yes Dakota?”

          “Couldn’t they just buy food at the grocery store?”

          “T’weren’t any stores around back then.”

          “Oh.” Was all I could say.

          Daddy continued the story. “After they ate the rabbit they settled in for the night.  Aine and Joseph took to their blankets which were laid close to the fire but Aileen couldn’t sleep. They didn’t have tents. Aileen added more wood to the fire and sat wrapped in her blanket.

          “After a while, Aileen, just like you Dakota, saw figures rising from the flames. Mystical things were nothing new to Aileen. Her clan in Ireland had many tales and mysteries. She watched the bears, horses and dogs run around and around in the fire.

          “Soon, though, things changed. The fire gathered itself in the center of the pit, rising up as if it were a fast growing tree. It formed into the shape of a rabbit, the same rabbit they had eaten for dinner. Aileen heard the whispers, ‘I am Mastinca, a spirit of the forest. If your soul is pure, I will walk with you through my land.’”

          Dakota and Catriona listened intently while their daddy continued the story.

          “There were many dangers in the forest then. There were no trails but for the ones made by animals foraging near the rivers. People had to make their own, often disturbing snakes and bears as they trod through the undergrowth. But something changed in Aileen. She could sense the danger. The first time she had a sense that  something was wrong, she tried to stop Joseph from continuing down a path often used by deer to go to the river. He laughed at her. ‘What’s wrong with you girl, you seeing ghosts or something?’

          “Joseph walked about six feet farther when a black bear came out of the woods.”

          Catriona asked, “Did the bear eat him?”

          Daddy laughed, “No, it ran away because Joseph, scared as he was, screamed so loudly that he scared the bear away. From then on when Aileen had a feeling of imminent danger, they listened. They made it over the mountain and found a verdant valley and declared it their new home.”

          Dakota tilted her head. “Daddy, is the valley where we live now?”

          “You are quite the smart little lady. Yes, Monterey is the town they settled in. But back then, it wasn’t a town. It was miles and miles of fertile land.”

          Catriona grumbled, “It’s not much of a town now.”

          Dakota took that moment to stick her tongue out at Catriona. “I love it. It’s beautiful. I love it here too, in Bear Mountain.”

          “There’s another thing.” Daddy continued, “Aileen grew up and married a Monacan who she called, Sungila. They had a child, Aileen’s granddaughter, and named her Kimimela. Kimimela kept a journal and wrote down many of the stories Aileen shared, including the rabbit story.”

          “So it’s true?” asked a wide eyed Dakota.

          “It’s our legend.”

          Catriona harrumphed, “Well, it’s a Podunk story for a Podunk town and a Podunk family.”

          Daddy looked to Mama for help.

          “Girls, we are a family of traditions passed down through the generations. Each new generation has some new tale to tell. Much of it can be explained by the science we now know.”

          “Like how Native Americans thought the rainbow was from the Sprit of all things but it’s really just white light refracted and split into different colors?”

          “Yes, Catriona, that is correct.”

          Dakota crossed her arms. “Well, I still think they are Spirits and they let you think it is science because you’re scared.”

          Catriona zeroed in on Dakota, “I am not scared.”

          “Are too!”

          “I am not!”

          “Stop it girls.” Daddy chimed softly.  “It’s time for bed.”

          Mama got up and helped us get ready for bed. We brushed our teeth using water from the bucket and put on our fuzzy, thick pajamas.

          Daddy added more wood to the fire to keep it going until we all fell asleep.

          I couldn’t sleep. When I heard everyone snoring, and boy could Catriona snore, I left the tent with my blanket and sat in front of the fire. I added more wood since it was getting smaller. I felt peaceful, as if I belonged there.

          The wood crackled under the flames. Blue and yellow points of fire danced. Ever so slowly, that I almost didn’t notice it, the flames gathered in the center. A deer appeared. I heard the whisper, “You are one with the spirits. It has been a long time since we’ve had a spirit walker among us. If you will allow, I will walk with you through life.”

          “Yes.” I whispered.

          I woke the next morning huddled near the fire. I couldn’t tell if what I saw was a dream or not, but I carried with me a feeling of peace. It didn’t bother me when Catriona whined at me for the rest of our camping trip. Mama and Daddy noticed that I wasn’t limping anymore and commented on how graceful I seemed to move. Later, I overheard them talking. They were discussing how they should have believed the doctors when they were told that I might grow out of my limp.

          I continued feeling at peace with the world for many years after that trip. Even when I was faced with bullying at school and being sent to foster care after my parents died. I survived. I was a senior in high school doing an ancestry project. Because I had  Native American people in my family history, my report focused on traditions of the Monacan and Sioux tribes. I was looking up myths and legends and discovered that animals had spiritual meanings. I quickly looked up the deer and found that it symbolized gentleness, grace and survival. I thought that perhaps, when I first saw the unicorn, I really saw a deer with antlers.  

          Was it a dream or did I really become one with the spirit deer?