Ratohnhaké:ton grabbed my wrist. "Come with me."
I blinked, unmoving in my stance. "Go with you? Where?" I was still frightened, still shaking. I wanted nothing more than to lay right where I stood and cry and cry until I could cry no longer. I wanted my mother.
"To my village," he explained matter-of-factly.
I gently pulled my wrist from his grasp. "But…"
He shrugged. "My people may not like you, but you'll be safe."
I huffed. "Well that is not exactly uplifting!" Tears now threatened to spill over my eyes. I did not need to go somewhere where people would hate me. I was still getting over the initial shock of what could easily be categorized as the worst day of my entire existence. I wanted my mother. I needed my mother.
This time he huffed, taking hold of my wrist again. He said nothing as he pulled me along. I didn't put up a fight. I was too tired, too numb, to care. I wanted my mother.
He brought me through such a maze of trees that I would never be able to retrace my steps. Navigation had never been my strong suit. More times than I would like to admit I had gotten lost outside playing hide-and-go-seek with my sister. Mother had to come out and find me once. I was so frightened that she held me that night until I cried myself to sleep. My breath hitched and I found myself wiping tears from my eyes once more.
We arrived at a sort of fence within minutes. An opening led us into a small village. I guessed this was his village. He continued to pull me to one of the larger… huts. Once there, he called what I can only repeat as "eesta".
A tall, elder woman stood up. She was beautiful, really. Her hair was parted into two braids. Her tan face sported many freckles and I supposed that was where Ratohnhaké:ton had gotten them. But why was he so much paler than the others?
"Ratohnhaké:ton," she began. Whatever she said next was indecipherable to me. I understood none of it. I found myself still holding his hand. I debated on dropping it. I could not bring myself to disentangle my fingers from his. They were so warm, so comforting. I had no one else to turn to. This boy was my solace, my savior. I owed him my life. I should have dropped to my knees and thank him until my face turned blue. Yet I could do nothing more than sniffle and shrink behind him.
They both exchanged many words—I think—before the woman turned to me. Well, she looked at me from behind Ratohnhaké:ton's shoulder. "Charlotte?" she called.
"H-how do you know my name?" I asked. I didn't remember ever telling Ratohnhaké:ton my name…
"Your father said it," Ratohnhaké:ton explained. I nodded in understanding, nibbling on my fingernails, anxious.
The woman cleared her throat. "I've come to believe that you cannot go home?"
I shook my head. I wanted to tell her that I should. I needed to make sure my sister was okay, but…
"And you cannot stay in the forest, the animals would eat you alive," she said, contemplative. "But—"
I swallowed. "Why are you telling me this?" My voice was hoarse.
"Well if you were to continue listening to me, you would know that I mean to ask you to stay here. I cannot let you go alone. "
I nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." I brought my head up to look at her. "Are you sure it would be okay? Wouldn't the others… dislike me?"
She nodded. "Yes." She smirked, it was gentle, as though she did not wish to upset me further, which was entirely possible. "At first. They may learn to like you."
"Do-Do I have to do something?" As nice of a thought as it may have been, it was impossible to think that this kindly woman would allow me to stay with her without my reciprocating her kindness.
She laughed. "Of course!" She pointed to a loom in the far corner. "You are to help me with my weavings."
"I-I can try…"
She smiled. "I will teach you."
Ratohnhaké:ton smiled. "Mother is very good. She will be a good teacher."
I blinked. "Mother?"
The woman giggled. "Yes, Ratohnhaké:ton is my son." She held her hand out. "Your people do this to greet?"
I nodded. I took her hand in a firm grasp and shook it equally so. "Charlotte Elizabeth Williams, ma'am. It's nice to meet you."
"My name is Kaniehtí:io," she explained.
My brows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"
She laughed under her breath. "Just call me Ziio."
I nodded.
I had been with the Mohawk for about a month. Ziio was still teaching me how to weave. I wasn't good at it at all. I was honestly surprised that Ziio hadn't simply given up on teaching me. But every time I'd get frustrated, she encouraged me to try again. It was because of her kind words that I continued to try. She'd show me little tricks. She showed me how to put beads on. Still, I failed, but still I tried. I would have much preferred to follow Ratohnhaké:ton and his friends around or climb trees and rocks with them or pretend to be animals or pretend to hunt. But his friends never let me play.
The other Mohawk didn't like me very much. But they didn't outright hate me, for which I was glad. They would treat me with respect, but never as a friend. Understandable, really. I tried my best not to intrude on any of them, keeping close to either Ziio or Ratohnhaké:ton. I suppose that it was safe to say that Ratohnhaké:ton and I were friends, but not on a substantial level. He'd talk to me, but never make a point to include me in his outings with his friends. Again, I understood, and tried not to get in his way. I wanted to play, though. I wanted to run through the forest, chase the others in a game, or jump around with the village dog, which I had become acquainted with and rather attached to.
One day, I sat in the longhouse, trying to weave, whilst Ratohnhaké:ton was reading some book. I honestly didn't care what book it was or how he had gotten it in the first place. I was focused on my weaving, determined to get it right for once. When Ziio walked in, he suspiciously threw it, making me believe that he wasn't supposed to be reading it in the first place. I raised a brow, but turned to my work.
He greeted his mother. She said something that sounded of suspicion, and he began to say what I believe what was an excuse when Kanen'tó:kon poked his head in and called to Ratohnhaké:ton. He began to inch to the door before Ziio gave him what seemed like a warning based on the finger waggling.
When he left, she sauntered up towards me. "How are you doing, Charlotte?"
Somehow, I don't know how, I had created a huge knot. I sighed. "You know, I'm beginning to think that I'll never be able to do this."
She laughed. "It took me a while as well. It just takes practice," she said as she sat next to me. She took the threads and easily unraveled them. She began to slowly—correctly—weave them into the loom. "See? It is not too hard."
"My fingers. It's like they cannot move with grace! You should have seen me play the piano! And Aggie, oh she'd—" I stopped myself, the pain of losing my family still fresh. Without warning, the tears began to fall. I bit my lip and focused on my lap. I wanted to see Aggie. I wanted my mother to tell me everything would be okay. I couldn't. I could not go back there. I could not imagine what I would do if I came face-to-face with my father. He would surely kill me this time.
Ziio patted my head. "It is alright. Shhhh," she cooed as she stroked my hair sympathetically.
I wiped the tears away, willing them to stop, and Ziio continued to teach me diligently. It was about forty-five minutes before it happened.
Men came, about fifty, dressed in uniforms I did not recognize. They brought torches, torches that they began to throw into the longhouses.
Ziio turned to me, panic obvious in her eyes. "Charlotte! You must hide! Go!" She shoved me out of the long house. I ran behind house after house until I came to one that was not yet burning. The whole village had been caught up in the blaze. Smoke burned my eyes and throat and the cries of children and adults assaulted my ears. I sat behind the home, knees curled to my chest, with my hands covering my ears. 'No. Not again. Please.' I wanted my mother. I wanted Ziio.
It wasn't long before an elder man found me, pulling me away from the home and bringing me to safety with the other children. The men had left, but they did not leave peacefully. The whole village was ablaze, even the house that I believed was safe. I watched in horror as men, women, and children burned alive. I shook, and the familiar feeling of dread turned my limbs cold. I began to remember my mother, her mangled face; bleeding and broken nose, split lip, missing teeth, and cold, lifeless eyes. I could hear the screams of the villagers, all warbled into a frenzy of noise. But one scream cut through the rest, cut to my very heart. And it screamed, "ISTA!"
Ratohnhaké:ton was dragged, kicking and screaming, to where the children were. Where I was. The man whom had had him threw him down to sit next to me. He was crying, tears clearing paths through the soot on his face.
I placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "Ratohnhaké:ton?"
He turned his head to me. His tears, the devastated expression on his face made my heart fall. "Mother… she… she is gone…" he said. His sobs grew harder then.
Out of pure instinct, I drew him closer to me. I don't know why I hugged him, maybe because he was the same age as Aggie—five— and I felt as though I had to. Whatever the reason, I allowed him to sob into my dress, which was so dirty from a month of wear that I really didn't care anyhow. I cried with him and together we found comfort in each other's shared pain. He bunched the fabric of my dress in his fist as I gingerly stroked his hair. "Shhh… it's going to be alright. I'm here." It felt as though I was his protector. And we grew closer and closer as the years flew by.
Nine Years Later
I was nineteen, he was fourteen. Though he was already taller than I, I still felt like a protector to him. However, I began to think my role of protector was hardly even needed anymore. The boy was deadly with a bow. So, I began to call him more of my closest friend, though I knew he didn't feel the same way. Kanen'tó:kon was Ratohnhaké:ton's dearest friend, and I respected that. The only reason I felt closest to Ratohnhaké:ton was because all of the other girls were infatuated with becoming proper women. Learning how to weave and wash clothes. I wasn't one of them, I wasn't Mohawk, and so I had no need to learn such practices. Instead, I busied myself with exploring the wilderness. Ratohnhaké:ton had taught me how to climb when I was sixteen. At nineteen, I was fairly good at it. So, I spent most of my days either with Ratohnhaké:ton and Kanen'tó:kon, or climbing around the forest. It was my main goal to be able to hop from limb to limb soundlessly, so that I could sneak up on even a rabbit. I was almost there.
"Charlotte!" Ratohnhaké:ton called from below. I swung myself down from my perch on a tree.
"Mhmm?" I murmured.
He gestured to Kanen'tó:kon. "I am going to teach him how to hunt," he said almost triumphantly. "Would you like to watch?"
"Oh, this should be good. I'll watch!"
Ratohnhaké:ton laughed lightly, murmuring something to Kanen'tó:kon in their language, patting his friend's belly while he was at it. I had learned a few words in Mohican, such as "Hello", "Please", and "Thank you", as well as several phrases that were essential to life in the village. I knew how to get around in the village, I could hold a very basic conversation. But I hardly ever spoke to any of the others in the village, aside from Ratohnhaké:ton and Kanen'tó:kon who spoke to me in English, so engraining the language into my brain was difficult.
Kanen'tó:kon frowned, retorting with a sly remark. Ratohnhaké:ton laughed, gesturing for us to follow as he sauntered to the valley.
He and Kanen'tó:kon snared rabbit and shot deer with their bows before Ratohnhaké:ton sent Kanen'tó:kon on his own.
I stayed in a tree as Ratohnhaké:ton hunted. My leg hung lazily over the edge as I waited, careful not to make any noise as to startle the animals in which Ratohnhaké:ton was hunting. Every once in a while, I'd watch him use his bow. I marveled at his accuracy. I was all right with a bow. Ratohnhaké:ton had actually taught me a thing or two. I reveled in his teaching. I wanted to better myself, physically and mentally. And where I couldn't grasp his language, he taught me to compensate with the abilities to best most anyone—aside from him, of course—in a climbing, running, or hunting competition. That is, of course, assuming there would ever be such a competition. Nonetheless, I wanted nothing more than to become strong, swift, and deadly. Perhaps it was my own way at beating my father or the men that killed Ziio. Perhaps my bettering myself was just some way to keep my mind off of the horrors of my childhood. Exercise was my constant companion.
It wasn't long before Ratohnhaké:ton showed up under my tree, gazing up at me. "I am finished," he stated.
I nodded, jumping down from my spot on the branch. I followed Ratohnhaké:ton to where I assumed they had set up a meeting spot. Unfortunately, Kanen'tó:kon wasn't there.
"Kanen'tó:kon?" Ratohnhaké:ton called.
Suddenly, Kanen'tó:kon came running towards us, shoving past Ratohnhaké:ton who muttered "Damn" under his breath.
"Wonder what he's running from…" I murmured.
And then, I knew. A bear. A goddamn bear. It charged at us. Ratohnhaké:ton stood in front of me, taking the full force of the bear's attack. Thankfully, he managed to push the bear away. "Go!" he yelled, grabbing my wrist and running to the village.
Kanen'tó:kon met us at the entrance. They-again- shared a conversation in their native language, something pertaining to Ratohnhaké:ton's superior hunting skills.
Ratohnhaké:ton spared me a glance. "I am going to see the Clan Mother," he explained before leaving me behind to go into the village.
"Okay," I said, off to busy myself with something like climbing.
