Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any songs mentioned in this chapter, and I make no profit by referencing them in this story.
Chapter 21: Regrets
New York Frontier, August 1757….
"Great Spirit…and maker of all life. A warrior goes to you swift and straight as an arrow shot into the sun. Welcome him. And let him take his place at the council fire of my people. He is Uncas. My son. Tell him to be patient, and ask death for speed. For they are all there, but one. I, Chingachgook. The last of my blood."
Standing near the rim of a mountain top, two men faced the setting sun as it marbled the sky in shades of yellow, orange and crimson. As the wind carried away their offering of tobacco, Chingachgook looked out over the endless rolling forest below him while saying a prayer to the Maker of All Life for the son he had just buried. Beside him, Nathaniel followed his father's gaze, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks as he watched the sky change colors with the sun's descent toward the horizon. Upon hearing the mention of his brother's name, he took a shuddering breath. Once the prayer concluded, father and adopted son turned toward each other. Silently, each man looked into the other's grief stricken eyes, until finally both looked away. Briefly glancing over the valley below, Chingachgook bowed his head and wept openly for his beloved Uncas.
Listening to his father's sobs, the only sound to be heard over the wind on the mountain top, Nathaniel looked once more at the rolling land stretched out before him. He and Uncas had grown up together in that forest, traversing the wilderness with their father after they abandoned their disease-ridden village when Nathaniel was ten years old and Uncas was but four. During the years that followed, Nathaniel had proudly watched his little brother grow from a small child into a man in that forest. But now Uncas' footsteps would never be heard there again. No more would the forest be filled with his presence. No more would it hear the sound of his deep, resonating voice. Uncas was gone.
With those thoughts, a profound sense of loss engulfed Nathaniel, and he wanted nothing more than to allow his own grief to pour out of him unchecked. But for Chingachgook's sake, he forced himself to remain composed. He would grieve later, after they made camp for the night and his father was asleep. And his grief was something Nathaniel knew he would carry with him for a long time, perhaps for the rest of his life. The family he so cherished was now all but gone. Only his father remained. Without Chingachgook, Nathaniel would be completely alone in the world.
And that was a fate he could not bear to face.
Weston home outside of Santa Fe NM, August 2007….
"Do you really think that story is about me?"
Later that evening while relaxing outside under the latillas covering the Spanish portal, Wolf voiced his surprise at discovering his defeat of Magua and his men had earned him a place in Huron folklore. Throughout the day, the spellbound Westons had listened as their houseguests spoke of the lives they had lived before coming to the 21st century, and of the extraordinary circumstances that brought them together as a family. The amazing story concluded after dinner with Wolf telling of his journey from 1877 back to 1757, and of his subsequent battle with the Huron as soon as he arrived in the cave.
After Wolf finished his tale, Jake commented that the incident reminded him of an old Huron legend he recently read about in a book on Native American mythology. Retrieving the book from his study, Jake returned to the portal and flipped through the pages to the story in question. Reading out loud, he relayed the Huron legend of a spirit known as The Fearsome One, which was said to have originated in the village of a very old Huron sachem in the northern wilderness of New York during the French and Indian War.
"That has to be you! It has to be!" Jake exclaimed after he finished reading. "The legend matches your story perfectly! And if you think about it, that would have been the only way those three surviving warriors and the people in their village would have been able to make sense out of what happened in that cave!"
Grinning sheepishly amid the admiring smiles and gentle laughter from those around him, Wolf bashfully agreed with Jake, giving a soft laugh of his own as he looked down at the flagstone floor in embarrassment. He couldn't even make eye contact with Cora, who had kept her eyes riveted to him while beaming with pride the entire time Wolf was telling his story. And she just about melted with love when he suddenly grew uncharacteristically shy in front of everyone after Jake informed him he was a Huron legend.
Throughout the day, Cora had made a conscious effort to overcome her nervousness around Wolf, and she was proud of herself for the progress she was making. With timid smiles, she remained by his side and waited on his every need, serving him food during meals, or getting him a snack or something to drink in between. She even managed to make small talk with him on several occasions. Still, she could not maintain eye contact with him for very long before demurely looking away, as his beautiful eyes and the close proximity of his body to hers set her aflame with desire. Despite her continued shyness, Wolf took Cora's interaction with him as a sign that she was finally warming up to him, and he began to believe he might have a future with her after all. But since she was still nervous and unsure around him, he resisted the urge to hold her hand, or to put his arm around her. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her away by attempting physical contact at this fragile point in their slowly budding relationship.
Setting the book down on a small end table beside his chair, Jake picked up the guitar he had brought outside with him earlier. With a fire crackling in the outdoor kiva fireplace built into the portal, and a full moon shining overhead in the starry night sky, a feeling of tranquility settled over the little gathering as Jake began to slowly strum his guitar. Occasionally, the howl of a coyote could be heard in the distance, adding the perfect touch to this desert setting.
"That's a beautiful tune. Does it have a name?" asked Ian, after Jake concluded the song. In all his life, Ian could not remember a time when he felt this relaxed.
"It's called 'La Vista', and it's similar to the type of songs the vaqueros used to play in the evenings as they relaxed on the rancho." replied Jake.
"Vaqueros and rancho?" Duncan inquired.
"Vaqueros are Mexican cowboys. Men who herd cattle for a living. And rancho is the Spanish word for ranch, which is where cattle are bred and raised." Jake explained.
"You play pretty good." Uncas commented, his arm around Alice as she sat beside him.
"Thank you!" Jake beamed, flattered by the compliment. "I've been playing the guitar since I was a teenager. Mostly I played rock music, and blues, like we were listening to this afternoon on the CD player. But now that Janet and I are living out here in New Mexico, I've been trying to learn how to play music befitting this region. And I'm also trying to learn to play Flamenco guitar, which is a style of music I've always liked." he added, giving a brief explanation of Flamenco's origins.
"Oh play something for us. Please?" Alice enthusiastically requested. Snuggled up to Uncas on one of the loveseats, she was thoroughly enjoying herself on this beautiful and tranquil evening. And she was very interested in learning about the culture in this new land that was now her home.
"I wish I could, Alice. But Flamenco is very difficult to play. It requires a lot of skill, and I've only just begun to teach myself some of the basics. I'm nowhere near good enough to play anything yet." Jake explained.
"I can play something if you like." Wolf offered, which took everyone except Uncas by surprise.
"You know how to play Flamenco on the guitar?" Jake asked.
"Yeah." Wolf casually replied. "When I was a kid, I learned how to play from a warrior who spent part of his life as a captive in Mexico until he escaped. He was the slave of a wealthy landowner, and one of the men who worked on the rancho took a liking to him and taught him to play. He managed to take the guitar with him when he escaped. He always loved to play it, and just like you, I was fascinated by the music. So much so, that the warrior offered to teach me how to play. I got pretty good at it, and when I started raiding, I had a chance to take a guitar for myself. I loved that guitar, and I always enjoyed playing it on a night like this." he added, gazing out at the starry sky.
"Couldn't you bring your guitar with you when you left?" Cora asked, wishing to hear him play.
"No. When I left our camp to look for the fog, no one but my mother and I knew I was leaving for good. Everyone else thought I had joined the war party. It would have looked odd if I'd taken my guitar with me, so I had to leave it behind." Wolf added, his voice tinged with regret.
Seeing how much Wolf missed his guitar, Cora made a mental note to buy one for Wolf for a wedding gift. Provided of course that he still wanted to marry her. He seemed to enjoy her company, but he wasn't making any attempt hold her hand or put his arm around her like Uncas did to Alice. Maybe he was still uncertain about her feelings for him? If that was true, then she needed to prove to him how much she loved him. But how? As her thoughts began to wander along those lines, her attention was brought back to the gathering when Jake handed Wolf his guitar.
"Here, son. Show us what you can do." Jake amicably suggested.
Accepting the instrument with a smile and a nod, Wolf slowly strummed the strings several times, making a few minor adjustments to the tuning as he did so. Satisfied, he began to play a song in the traditional Malagueñas style of Andalusia.
Enthralled, Wolf's audience watched in amazement as he played the song's intricate, ever changing array of rhythmic techniques with ease. Even Uncas was fascinated by his brother's talent. Although he knew Wolf played the guitar, this was the first time he was actually hearing him play. As for Cora, she was completely captivated by his talent, and the fluid way his long fingers deftly manipulated the strings. Once again Wolf seemed larger than life to her, but she was too dazzled to feel intimidated by him as she usually did.
After the song concluded, Wolf acknowledged the rousing round of applause that broke out with nod and one of his and Uncas' trademark closed-mouthed smiles. Graciously thanking his admirers, he noticed Jake was still giving him an extremely enthusiastic standing ovation, complete with repeated shouts of 'Bravo!' Embarrassed, Wolf turned shy again, laughing softly and directing his attention once again to the flagstone floor. In doing so, he did not notice the love in Cora's eyes as she gazed at him with adoration.
"That was amazing! Absolutely amazing!" cried Jake, who was still applauding as Janet tugged on his arm to get him to sit down.
"You, young man, are the very person I've been looking for to give me lessons!"
As the hour grew late and the partygoers grew tired, the happy gathering on the Westons' portal moved indoors to the livingroom to bid each other goodnight before retiring to their rooms.
"This is without a doubt, the most enjoyable evening I can remember!" Ian declared to his hosts. "And on behalf of my family and myself, I want to thank you both once again for welcoming us into your home. The scope of what each of us needs to learn before we'll be ready to settle down is so overwhelming. Not only for us, but I'm sure for you as well, since you have taken on the task of teaching us most of it. We are indebted to you for your help." he added, shaking Jake's hand and hugging Janet in turn.
"Our pleasure!" Jake cheerfully replied. "You know, I have to say that even though you've only been here one day, already you've all become part of our family! Haven't they Janet?"
"You most certainly have!" Janet agreed. "This house is going to seem so empty and lonely when you leave to settle into your own homes. Which we sincerely hope won't be for some time yet. Jake and I are in no hurry to see you leave. We want all of you to stay here with us for as long as you like."
"Yes we do! Mi casa, es su casa!" Jake chimed in, repeating his welcome from earlier that day.
"Thank you." Ian replied, just as Wolf gave a big yawn and blinked sleepily several times.
"Well, someone is certainly ready for bed!" Janet merrily noted.
"I dare say he should be." Duncan replied, giving Wolf a brotherly pat on the back as he explained. "Wolf sat awake all last night by the cave entrance, keeping watch while the rest of us slept."
"I guess I am a little tired." Wolf admitted before yawning again.
Standing beside Wolf, Cora was surprised to learn that he had not shared the evening watch with Duncan as the two had originally planned before everyone retired the previous night. And she suspected that part of the reason Wolf had not slept was because of the mess she had made of things when she'd tried to sit with him in the cave. Suddenly, it became clear to her that his friendly yet reserved demeanor towards her throughout the day and evening was a result of how deeply he'd been hurt by that incident, and from his uncertainty of where he stood with her. Determined to make things right between her and Wolf, and to get their newly developing relationship moving forward, Cora knew she had to be the one to make the first move by showing him how she felt about him. And the best way was to do something she had longed to do since the first time she had her dream about him. With all the courage she could muster, Cora gently slipped her hand into Wolf's and flashed him a lovely smile.
"Then you should get a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed." Cora suggested, her cheeks suffused in a pretty blush as she nodded ever so slightly toward the direction of her bedroom.
Upon witnessing the little gesture, Alice and Janet's eyebrows shot up as they each clamped a hand over their mouth, while the men broke out in grins. All except Wolf that is. He was so taken by surprise with Cora's unexpected invitation that all he could do was stare at her with his mouth slightly open.
The combined expression of surprise and hopefulness on Wolf's face made him look like a little boy to Cora, and endeared him to her even more. And seeing that vulnerable side of him once again encouraged her onward with her plan. Quelling her nerves, she maintained her smile and began to slowly back away from Wolf, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him as she moved towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Unable to move, Wolf remained where he was, that same boyish look on his face. As she backed away, Cora's hand gradually slipped out of his until their fingertips finally parted. Backing up for a few more steps, she continued to smile and gaze at Wolf, teasing him seductively with the promise of delights to come. Once she reached the top of the hallway, Cora turned and made a mad dash to her bedroom, with Wolf now in hot pursuit. When she reached the bedroom, Cora darted inside and quickly shut the door without turning around. Assuming that Wolf understood she would need a few minutes to ready herself for him, she was totally unaware that he had followed and was right behind her.
When the door slammed shut in his face, Wolf stood there staring at it, his nose barely two inches away from it. Devastated, he turned around and slowly walked back to the livingroom, a paralyzing silence hanging in the air as he rejoined the others.
"I guess I read that all wrong, didn't I." Wolf mumbled, the hurt in his eyes almost too painful to look at.
"Oh Wolf, I'm so sorry." Janet replied, briefly touching his wrist in a gesture of comfort.
"I've had enough of this! I'm going to talk to her!" Alice emphatically stated. Fuming, she had taken no more than two steps toward the hallway before Wolf took hold of her arm and stopped her.
"Don't" he told Alice. "You can't make her feel what she don't."
"No, Alice is right." a visibly upset Ian replied. "What Cora did just now is inexcusable. And I want to know why my daughter is treating you this way when she professes to love you."
"As do I!" demanded Duncan, who was also upset by Cora's actions.
"It's pretty obvious why." Wolf countered back. "She doesn't love me. Maybe she thought she did. But when Cora finally met me, the man I really am isn't who she imagined I would be. I mean, from the moment we first met, she's avoided me like I have the plague. She could hardly bring herself to look at me. She was better this afternoon. But even though she sat with me the whole time we were outside tonight, she never completely relaxed. It was like she was forcing herself to be near me. And as for what just happened now, I think we all misunderstood what she meant. I know I did. Wishful thinking on my part I guess."
Shaking his head, Wolf glanced at the floor before meeting everyone's eyes. When he did, the expression on his face was heartbreaking. "She just doesn't love me." he reiterated sadly.
"Well I disagree with you." Janet firmly asserted. "I had a chance to talk privately with Cora this afternoon, and I have no doubt whatsoever that she is head over heels in love with you. She even wore that dress today for you! Cora felt half naked in it after having worn 18th century clothing her whole life, but she wore it anyway because she wanted to look pretty for you."
"And that is why I do not understand what happened just now!" Alice added, still furious with her sister. "I also spoke privately to Cora about you today, as well as on several occasions after our departure from Albany for Fort William Henry. And so I know for a fact that she loves you deeply, and wants nothing more than to share her life with you. That is why I do not understand why she would imply that she wanted you to share her bed with her tonight, and then close the door in your face. Yes Cora has felt nervous around you ever since you arrived, but she wants to be with you, and she made a conscious effort today to put that nervousness behind her so the two of you could get to know each other. Papa is right! Cora's actions were inexcusable and I think we should..."
"Look. Everyone. I appreciate your concern." Wolf interjected before Alice could finish. "But it's late….and I'm tired. And I can't deal with this right now. Not tonight. I just want to go to bed."
Knowing how tired Wolf was, and how deeply he'd been hurt by what Cora had done, Uncas took control of the matter and spoke up in support of his brother.
"I agree with Wolf. It's been an exhausting day for all of us, and we're all tired. This is not the time to discuss this matter with Cora because somebody might say something they'll regret later on. I think the best thing to do is for all of us to turn in and get some rest, and then Alice and I will talk to Cora in the morning. Agreed?"
Seeing the wisdom in Uncas' words, the rest of the group had to admit he was right. They then said their goodnights, with Alice and Janet giving Wolf a hug and a kiss, and the men giving him a pat on his shoulder or back.
"Try to get some sleep, Shik'isn." Duncan told him, using the Apache word for brother that Wolf had recently taught him.
"That's right, laddie." said Ian. "Get some rest, and we'll sort this out in the morning."
As everyone headed to their bedrooms, Uncas told Alice he'd be along shortly, then followed Wolf into the study. Closing the door behind them, he folded his arms across his chest and watched in silence as his twin opened the sofa bed.
"You wanna talk?" Uncas finally asked, as Wolf smoothed out the sheets and blanket.
"No. Not tonight. …..I really just want to be alone right now." Unable to meet his brother's penetrating gaze, Wolf busied himself with turning down the bedding, and fluffing the pillows before placing them on the bed.
"Alright. But if you change your mind, just wake me up. No matter what the hour. Promise?"
"I will." Wolf replied as he stood up straight and faced Uncas. "Now don't keep Alice waiting. I'll be fine." he added with a weak, unconvincing smile. Knowing Wolf was anything but fine, Uncas nevertheless relented. He knew it would be pointless to pursue the matter any further. Giving a nod in reply, Uncas moved to the door and reached for the knob.
"Fox?"
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
With a warm smile, Uncas walked over to Wolf and the two brothers embraced.
"That's what twins are for." Uncas murmured in Wolf's ear, then clapped him on the back before moving to the door again. Pausing in the doorway, he turned and smiled warmly again at Wolf.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Taking his leave, Uncas closed the study door behind him. Finally alone, Wolf stood beside the bed for a moment and looked around the room. With a heavy sigh, he went to the bathroom across the hall and washed up for bed. That done, he returned to the study. Still holding the knob after closing the door, he pressed the palm of his other hand against the wood at face level and rested his forehead on his outstretched arm. With another deep sigh, he pushed himself away from the door and walked over to the sofa bed. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he began to undress, tossing his clothes haphazardly over a nearby chair. Naked except for his briefs, Wolf turned off the light and slipped under the top sheet and blanket, stretching out on his back as he covered himself with the bedding against the cool of the central air conditioning.
With the blanket partially covering his bare chest, Wolf placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, which he could just make out in the darkness courtesy of the moonlight filtering in through the mini blinds on the window. Puffing his cheeks, he blew out another deep breath, then closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep, but it was to no avail. Despite his exhaustion, sleep would not come. Finally, after tossing and turning for twenty minutes, he got up and went to the window. Pondering the mini blinds, he figured out how to raise them by pulling on the cord. He then opened the window and took a deep breath of the fresh night air. Taking a seat on the low bookcase underneath the window, Wolf leaned on the sill, his gaze wandering over the moonlit high desert landscape before him as he contemplated Cora's rejection of him.
That same night, New York Frontier, August 1757….
In a small clearing nestled among the trees on a heavily wooded mountaintop overlooking the expansive valley below, Chingachgook and Nathaniel sat in the camp they had made for the night. Numb with grief, they stared vacantly at the ground in front of them. Darkness had fallen hours ago, and some distance away across the valley, the evening fires in the Huron village of the old Sachem could be seen flickering through the trees. Unwilling to risk building a fire of their own for fear of the unwanted attention it might attract, the two men sat in the dark, a full moon providing their only source of light. It mattered not that there was no fire. Neither would have felt its warmth anyway, so deep and cold was the grief that consumed them both.
Unable to stop himself, Chingachgook turned to look at a large pile of neatly stacked rocks that sat several feet away from them. Uncas' grave. Unable to leave his son behind after he buried him, Chingachgook had chosen to make the scenic clearing their campsite, enabling him and Nathaniel to spend one more night in the company of Uncas. It was not a Mohican custom to do such a thing. Far be it. But Chingachgook could not bring himself to leave his beloved son. Nor did Nathaniel want to leave his brother. And neither did they care about the taboo of speaking the name of the dead. So what if Uncas' spirit haunted them as a result. His memory was going to haunt them for the rest of their lives anyway.
With no bedding to sleep on, having used their blankets to wrap the "bodies" of Uncas and Alice, Chingachgook and Nathaniel sat on the bare ground, the sound of crickets and other nocturnal creatures filling the air around them. After a time, Chingachgook rose and slowly walked over to where the clearing abruptly dropped off down a steep slope. As his gaze roamed over the shadowy, moonlit valley and the black silhouettes of the distant mountains stretched out before him, Uncas' handsome face filled his mind's eye, translucently superimposing itself over the wilderness below. In life, his son would have liked this pretty and scenic place, and Chingachgook was glad he had chosen this spot as his burial site. He was also glad that he and Nathaniel had placed Uncas and Alice together in the same grave with their arms around each other. They would have wanted to be buried that way.
As his thoughts began to wander, Chingachgook wondered what Uncas' life would have been like if he'd taken him and Nathaniel directly to their tribal cousins, the Lenni Lenape, when they abandoned their disease stricken village. If he had, Uncas would have traveled a very different path in life. In fact, if he had left as soon as the sickness first struck, Wolf would still be alive too, as would his wife Lila, and his father. They would all have made new lives for themselves among the Delaware, and his sons would now be married to good Lenape wives. And he and Lila would be sitting in the family lodge at this very moment, singing their grandchildren to sleep. Then Uncas would not have been on the George Road last week, and would never have met the blond Munro daughter who stole his heart and became his wife.
But even as he entertained this thought, Chingachgook knew it wouldn't have happened that way. Perhaps Wolf and Nathaniel would have taken Lenape wives. But he knew Uncas was destined to marry Alice because of the spirit dream his son had of her every night for two years prior to their meeting. The Master of Life intended for the pair to meet. And regardless of the life Uncas lived or where he lived it, when the time was right, the spirits would have guided him and the Yengeese girl together.
With a heavy sigh, Chingachgook wearily leaned against the trunk of a large maple tree. He had been terribly wrong about the relationship between Uncas and Alice. It had not just been an infatuation his son had for the girl, nor was she simply dallying with him to pass the time. No, Uncas and Alice had loved each other deeply, and if he had trusted his son's judgment and opened his eyes to their love, he would have seen that.
Cursing himself, Chingachgook thought over the events that happened after they rescued the Munro sisters and their brother on the George Road, and he came to the conclusion that if he had accepted Uncas and Alice's love from the beginning, his son and daughter-in-law would still be alive because the events that resulted in their deaths would not have occurred.
If he had given his son's marriage his blessing, he and Uncas would not have had their falling out in the burial ground, and they would all have been together at the fort. They would also have left the fort together as a group after the surrender. That would have saved precious time when the massacre occurred because they could have made their escape immediately, instead of having to search for each other first. Then Magua wouldn't have seen them make their getaway in the canoes, or if he had, would not have been able to pursue them in time to see them detour off the lake and down the river. If that were the case, they could have hidden in the cave behind the falls without being detected, or had time to take shelter somewhere else altogether. Then no one would have been taken captive, and no one would have been brutally murdered up on that cliff. Uncas and the Munros' would still be alive right now, safe and sound with him and Nathaniel.
Still gazing over the darkened valley, Chingachgook's thoughts shifted to memories of Uncas. Some happy, some sad. But even the happy ones ended in regrets, and all of them twisted his gut into a knot. With a will of their own, the memories began with that beautiful day, twenty years ago, when Chingachgook stood outside of the birthing lodge, awaiting the arrival of his twin sons. When the old midwife stepped out and placed Wolf, his firstborn, into his arms, he had thought he would never feel a joy that could equal what he felt at that moment. But when he entered the birthing lodge and saw Uncas lying in his mother's arms, Chingachgook's joy became even greater still, and he immediately fell in love with the tiny infant. Exchanging the twins with his wife Lila, he had picked up Uncas, and instantly felt a bond form between them when the baby immediately wrapped his tiny fingers around one of his father's. That bond was one he thought could never be broken. But it had been broken. And Chingachgook had been the one to break it that day in the burial ground when he slapped Uncas across the face and told him he was no longer his son.
Squeezing his eyes shut against the memory, Chingachgook reopened them as his thoughts next drifted over his joyful recollections of Uncas growing from that tiny newborn into a tall and strong young man, highly skilled in the ways of a warrior. His son had all the makings of becoming a leader among his people. Uncas' quiet yet powerful presence might have rallied the scattered bands of Mohican to unite and become the strong tribe they once were, perhaps even joining them with their Delaware cousins to create a new, even stronger confederated tribe. This was the future Chingachgook had always envisioned for Uncas. But his own fears of joining another Mohican village had instead forced the solitary, nomadic life of a fur trapper upon his son, and ultimately led him to his death.
But this was just one of many times Chingachgook felt he had let Uncas down, and he berated himself for not having been a better father to his beloved son. He should have swallowed his fears of living in the confines of a village that could easily be ravaged by disease, and taken Uncas and Nathaniel to another Mohican or Delaware settlement after the sickness claimed their grandfather, mother and brother that terrible winter. The solitary lifestyle Chingachgook chose had denied Uncas the time to just be a little boy and play with children his own age, and to grow up with a sense of family and community that only life in a Mohican or Delaware village could have given him. It had not been easy raising two small boys on his own while living alone with them in an unforgiving and dangerous wilderness. At least Nathaniel was ten years old at the time, and knew enough to be of some help. But Uncas was only four, and that wandering lifestyle placed heavy demands on a child so young. More times than not in those early years, Uncas would fall behind as they traveled or hunted because he could not keep up with his father. He also tired easily, which forced Chingachgook to walk slower than he normally would have, and to make frequent rest breaks during their travels.
Sometimes Uncas would get lost as a result of lagging behind, or from wandering off when something caught his inquisitive eyes. And if the child realized he'd become separated from the group before his father and brother could retrieve him, his frightened cries for help would scare away the game they were hunting, or put them at risk of being detected if any unseen enemies were in the area. And because he was so young, Uncas was noisy in general, stepping on twigs and branches, talking in a loud voice, or singing to entertain himself when bored. Whenever this happened, Chingachgook would scold Uncas in a desperate need to instill in him the vital importance of silence, stealth and speed when hunting or on the trail. Sometimes his fear of the danger Uncas had put them in, or his frustration at losing an opportunity to make a kill during a hunt, resulted in the scolding being quite harsh. And each time this happened, Chingachgook would be racked with guilt afterwards over having been so severe to a child who was far too young to know better.
With a shake of his head, Chingachgook cleared away a haunting vision of little Uncas' tear streaked face, only to have that memory replaced by another one equally as painful.
It happened in early summer on Uncas' 12th birthday. Father and sons were visiting their favorite trading post in Schuylerville to trade their winter furs, and Uncas was looking forward to receiving his first musket, which Chingachgook had promised to buy him as a birthday gift. Although proficient with the bow and arrows he had used to hunt with up to that point, Uncas had been looking forward to receiving his first musket all winter, and he had worked hard to bring in his share of fur. But the section of wilderness they had worked that season proved to be nearly trapped out, and the winter was milder than normal. As a result, they took less fur than usual, and the pelts they did take were not as thick because of the warmer temperatures.
The moment they entered the trading post that day, Uncas had rushed over to the rack of muskets on the wall, and excitedly perused the selection. It hadn't taken long for him to fall in love with one in particular, a beautiful Pennsylvania Long Rifle made of curly maple with silver inlay. Smiling proudly as he observed Uncas reverently admiring his new treasure, Chingachgook turned his attention to his old and trusted friend, the trader, who had begun to weigh the furs. His smile soon faded however, when he realized their winter trappings would not bring in as much silver as he had counted on. Besides Uncas' birthday gift, he and his sons were completely out of supplies, including ammunition, and they needed to restock everything in order to get through the summer hunt and to the fall trade. To make matters worse, 18 year old Nathaniel was also in need of a new weapon. The smoothbore trade musket he currently used was not of good quality and was prone to misfires. A dangerous thing when living on the frontier, where every shot counted.
As the furs were weighed, Chingachgook negotiated the best price he possibly could for them. Even so, when all was said and done, the amount of silver he received was not enough to purchase the desperately needed supplies and two weapons. He would only be able to purchase one. Looking into the hopeful eyes of Uncas as he lovingly cradled the long rifle he'd chosen, Chingachgook knew he had to make a very painful decision. One that every parent dreaded. He had to choose between his sons. Even though he had promised Uncas a musket for his birthday, the boy was only just learning how to shoot. And although Uncas already showed promise, his older brother, Nathaniel, was a skilled marksman and able provider, which meant there was only one choice Chingachgook could wisely make.
Steeling himself for the task at hand, Chingachgook took Uncas aside and explained the situation to him as gently as he could. Crestfallen, Uncas mumbled that he understood, and reluctantly handed over his precious long rifle to Nathaniel. In its place, Chingachgook presented Uncas with his brother's old musket, with the promise to buy him a new one the first chance he got. But despite the years that had passed since that incident, Chingachgook never forgot the hurt in Uncas' eyes that day, and it continued to haunt him even now. What made it worse for both Chingachgook and Nathaniel was that Uncas had stubbornly held onto that musket for several years, even when there was enough silver to buy a new one. Each time Chingachgook offered his son a new weapon, Uncas would claim that he already had a musket and did not need another. Finally, on his 16th birthday, Uncas relented and allowed Chingachgook to buy him the smoothbore Brown Bess musket he carried to the day he died. That was also the summer Chingachgook realized that Uncas had become the best tracker, hunter and marksman of the three of them.
Still leaning against the tree trunk, Chingachgook turned to look at the pile of stones under which his beloved Uncas' body lay. Gazing at the grave, a tear rolled down his cheek as the melodious words of a Mohican lullaby drifted through his head. It was not the same lullaby he always sang to Wolf's baby rattle each night. This was a different song that had always been Uncas' favorite since he was an infant. Many a night, Chingachgook sang Uncas to sleep with that song, as well as when he combed and arranged his little boy's hair. That became a ritual both of them enjoyed until the day an 8 year old Uncas declared himself too old to be sung a song meant for babies. But he continued to allow his father to brush and braid his long hair for a little while longer until he was able to manage it himself.
Resting his head on the tree he was leaning against, Chingachgook smiled and softly hummed the lullaby while the warmth of the pleasant memory enveloped him. Uncas would no doubt have sung this song to his own children one day, and with that thought Chingachgook abruptly stopped humming. With an icy shiver coursing down his spine, he recalled a foreboding conversation that took place a few weeks ago during the last visit he and his sons made to the Cameron farm. One that took place between Uncas and little James Cameron while everyone was seated at the table for dinner.
Then you can have a boy like me.
Never! You're too strong! Turn me old to fast!
Although Uncas had spoken those words in jest while playfully tickling the spirited boy, he had no way of knowing at the time that he would never live to have any children of his own. But he might have lived to raise a family if Chingachgook had only accepted Alice Munro as his daughter-in-law, instead of denying her and turning against Uncas for having married her. Groaning in misery, Chingachgook looked once more at his son's grave.
"I am so sorry, my son. I never meant for any of this to happen. And I did not mean those words I said to you during our disagreement. My anger controlled my tongue that day, not my heart. I love you, Uncas. I never stopped loving you. You…are my son." Chingachgook whispered to Uncas' spirit.
"Please do not hate me for the fool I have been, and for all the mistakes I have made."
With his back resting against a large boulder, Nathaniel sat in the darkness and observed the shadowy figure of Chingachgook standing at the edge of the clearing near the top of the slope. Even from this distance he could feel his father's pain. It was as deep and numbing as his own, and it broke his heart to see his father so bereft. Each of them was the only family the other had left now. Everyone else was gone. The first to go had been his grandfather, followed by his mother, and his younger brother, Wolf. All of them lost to the terrible sickness that struck their village sixteen years ago. And now Uncas was dead.
Thoughts of his youngest brother brought on a wave of suffocating grief, and Nathaniel had to swallow hard and squeeze his eyes shut against it. Drawing up his knees, he leaned forward and placed his forearms across them, resting his forehead on his wrists. He should have tried harder to mend the rift between Uncas and Chingachgook. He should have done more to defend his brother to their father, and forced the two of them to talk to each other and work things out. If he had done that, perhaps things would have turned out differently, and Uncas would still be alive. There was no way to know if that would have been the case, but Nathaniel couldn't help but feel that if Uncas and Chingachgook had made peace with each other before the fort was evacuated, his brother would be sitting beside him right now, along with Alice and her family. And even if the events on the cliff had still taken place, at least a reconciliation meant Uncas wouldn't have died believing his father no longer loved him.
Rubbing his hands over his face, Nathaniel leaned back against the boulder and stretched one leg out. Staring vacantly at the ground beside him, his thoughts drifting back to when he was a child growing up with Uncas and Wolf. From the day they were born, Nathaniel had loved the twins deeply and equally, sharing a close relationship with both of them. But he had always felt a slightly closer to Uncas, and was always more protective of him than the wilder, more fiercely independent Wolf. At that point, the memory of a tender childhood moment between him and Uncas came to Nathaniel.
It happened the summer Uncas and Wolf were four years old, and he himself was ten. The three of them were playing a game of "war party" with several other boys who were around Nathaniel's age. Because the day was hot, all of them wore only loin cloths and moccasins. At one point during the mock battle, which had become a bit rough, Uncas and Wolf were each simultaneously knocked down by two of the bigger boys. As a result, both twins badly skinned their bare knees on some rocks protruding slightly from the ground. Stunned, Wolf immediately picked himself up and looked at his bloody knees. For a moment it appeared he was going to cry. But an angry look instantly replaced the sad one, and he quickly shook off the incident and returned to the fracas with a fierce determination to avenge himself and his twin by conquering their "attackers". Uncas however remained on the ground, his bottom lip trembling as he rolled to a sitting position and hugged his raised knees. Rushing over after witnessing the event, Nathaniel sat down beside Uncas and pulled his softly whimpering brother onto his lap as Wolf sprinted off in hot pursuit of the other boys.
"Are you alright?" Nathaniel asked, deeply concerned.
"Y-Yes." Uncas replied in a quivering voice. "I'm a brave warrior. And warriors don't cry when they get hurt."
Seeing his little brother's trembling lip, and eyes brimming with tears, Nathaniel smiled as he tenderly picked some twigs out of Uncas' hair.
"Sure they do." he said softly. "Warriors cry all the time."
"They do?"
"Uh huh! And they need hugs from their big brothers too."
"That's good, because I really need one!" Uncas replied. Bursting into tears, he fell into Nathaniel's embrace.
With a sad smile, Nathaniel wiped away an escaping tear that rolled down his cheek as the warm memory lingered. He had been so proud of his brothers that day. Both had courageously played with boys much older than they were. And Wolf had avenged himself and Uncas with two sound whacks with his stick "war club" on the backs of the boys that had knocked them down, delivering another whack on their backsides for good measure. Proclaiming that no one hurts his twin brother and gets away with it, Wolf had then marched back over to Nathaniel and Uncas. Plopping down beside them, he became aware of the sting in his own skinned knees and promptly started crying as well.
Chuckling softly as the memory faded, Nathaniel's smile soon faded along with it as his thoughts shifted to the winter that followed that summer, which was when the deadly sickness struck their village. The tragic deaths of his grandfather, mother and Wolf had devastated Nathaniel, and the only person who was able to ease his pain was Uncas. His little brother's mere presence soothed his grief like a tonic. And in the months that followed having left the village with their father, the bond between the siblings grew even stronger than it had been before. By the time a year had passed, Nathaniel and Uncas were more than just brothers. They had become best friends, which they remained throughout their adult lives. They had even made a promise to always be there for each other. Resting the back of his head against the boulder, Nathaniel closed his eyes and recalled the events that prompted them to make that pledge.
It happened the winter that Nathaniel was twenty three. He and his brother and father were in their temporary trapping camp, which consisted of an enclosed shelter similar to a wigwam that they had built near the river where they were running their trap lines. At seventeen, Uncas was a skilled and capable member of the team, and so his presence was crucial on this particular morning because their supply of dried meat was all but exhausted, and they needed a successful hunt. That winter was an especially brutal one, with bitter cold and deep snow. As a result, game was scarce, and with a nor'easter moving in fast, their situation was desperate. They needed a successful hunt before the snowstorm hit, which Chingachgook estimated would arrive that afternoon. A hunt under such conditions would require the skills of all three of them.
On any other day, Uncas would have risen with his father and brother, ready and eager to participate in the day's activities. But on this particular morning, he lingered in his bed, reluctant to leave the warmth of his bearskin robes. Nathaniel and Chingachgook knew this was not like Uncas. And since he had gone to bed the night before feeling tired, achy and sneezing, with a splitting headache, scratchy throat and a cough, they assumed that Uncas had caught the head cold that Nathaniel had recently gotten over. Despite needing Uncas' help on this hunt, Nathaniel and Chingachgook agreed that under the circumstances, it would be better if Uncas remained in camp and rested, instead of going out in the wind and cold while he was unwell. With that, the two men strapped on their snowshoes and departed, leaving Uncas behind feeling miserably sick, and guilty over leaving them shorthanded on such a critical hunt.
Later that day, with snow falling heavily, Nathaniel and Chingachgook returned to their camp bearing between them the deer Nathaniel had shot. Depositing the buck on the ground, they removed their snowshoes and entered the shelter to warm up before butchering the carcass. Once inside, they found Uncas curled up under his heavy robes, shivering and burning with fever. Hearing how congested his cough had become, the two men realized to their horror that Uncas did not have a simple cold as they'd originally thought. He had the same sickness that claimed the lives of his family thirteen years prior. For the remainder of that day and the one that followed, Nathaniel and Chingachgook did all they could for Uncas as he tossed and turned in his bed, alternating between chills and sweats as a high fever raged in his body. Helplessly, they listened as his congested cough grew worse, and his breathing became raspy. Too far away to seek help from the closest Lenape village with the snowstorm still raging outside, Nathaniel and Chingachgook could only sit by and watch Uncas struggle, ministering to him as best they could with the limited medicines and herbs they had brought with them.
Throughout each night, Nathaniel and Chingachgook sat with Uncas, taking turns so that one of them could get some sleep while the other tended to him. A few hours before dawn on that second night, while an exhausted Chingachgook slept, Uncas gave an equally tired Nathaniel the fright of his life. Moaning feverishly, Uncas began to talk to Wolf (who was also sick), "calling out" to his twin out loud instead of silently as was his usual custom. Believing Uncas was speaking to a brother who was dead, Nathaniel was mortified when Uncas told Wolf he wanted to be with him and their mother, and then begged his grandfather to let him be with them. Believing that Uncas wanted to die, a terrified Nathaniel frantically did everything he could to keep him alive. Placing a fresh poultice on his brother's chest to help clear the congestion, he trickled water into his mouth, and constantly dabbed his face and brow with a cool damp cloth to bring his fever down. All the while begging Uncas not to leave him, and praying to the Master of Life not to take him.
Shortly after that incident, Uncas settled into a fitful sleep, and despite his efforts to stay awake, a weary Nathaniel dozed off as well. Later, after the storm abated and a clear dawn broke over the horizon, he and Chingachgook both awoke with a start when a pair of blue jays squawked in a raucous argument not far from their shelter. Disoriented from sleep, they realized it was morning and immediately moved over to Uncas, who lay deathly still in his bed. As Chingachgook placed his hand on Uncas' cheek, Nathaniel touched his brother's exposed shoulder, and both men discovered Uncas' skin was cold to the touch.
Fearing the worst, that Uncas had died while they slept, Chingachgook uttered a choked cry and broke down. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Nathaniel tenderly stroked his brother's hair. He then jumped in surprise when Uncas moaned in complaint and batted his hand away, annoyed at having been woken from his sleep. Rolling onto his side, Uncas pulled the bearskin cover over his exposed shoulder and snuggled deeper into his warm robes against the cold air. Cozy, he gave a deep, contented sigh, which promptly caused a coughing fit that brought him fully awake. Overjoyed that Uncas was alive, and that his fever was gone, Chingachgook and Nathaniel laughed and cried at the same time as they threw their arms around him in a group hug, nearly knocking the confused young warrior onto his back while he was struggling to sit up in an attempt to stop coughing.
Several days later, when Uncas was feeling a bit stronger, Nathaniel made him agree to a promise that they would both grow old together, and that they would sit beside each other in front of their longhouse and watch their grandchildren play.
Opening his eyes, Nathaniel faced the grim knowledge that the promise he and Uncas made that day would never happen now. He would grow old alone, without his beloved brother beside him.
"I promised you on the day you were born that I would always take care of you and protect you." Nathaniel said, speaking softly to his brother's grave. "Guess I didn't do a very good job keeping that promise, did I little brother. Because I wasn't there when you needed me the most."
At that moment, a thought struck Nathaniel. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he wondered where Uncas thought he stood in that whole mess between him and their father. Surely his brother knew he was still on his side, hadn't he? That he hadn't turned his back on him? The awful thought that Uncas might have died believing that to be true twisted Nathaniel's gut into a knot.
"I didn't abandon you, brother! I swear I didn't." Nathaniel whispered to the grave. "I tried to seek you out at the fort. Several times in fact. But every time I found you, something happened to keep us apart. And between trying to talk some sense into Father, and dealing with everything else that was going on at the time, I… I should have tried harder to reach you." he conceded with sigh of resignation. "And I should have been stronger, and climbed out of those rapids sooner so that I could have been up on that cliff with you. I'm sorry Uncas. Please forgive me?"
Casting his eyes downward in shame, Nathaniel's gaze settled on his long rifle, which was lying beside him. This was supposed to have been Uncas' weapon, not his. His brother had chosen it as his first firearm during a trip to Schuylerville on his twelfth birthday. But instead, Chingachgook gave Nathaniel the Pennsylvania long rifle, and Uncas ended up receiving his old musket because there was not enough silver to afford two new weapons. At the time, Nathaniel was an experienced marksman, while Uncas was only just learning to shoot, so the arrangement was a sensible one to make under the circumstances. But once Uncas had a weapon of his own, he quickly surpassed his older brother as a marksman before the year was out. And now, as he did whenever he recalled that event, Nathaniel felt the same deep pang of guilt.
"This should have been your weapon, little brother. Not mine." Nathaniel whispered, stoking his fingers against the stock. For a moment, he was tempted to add the long rifle to the grave, burying it deep under the rocks where his brother lay so that it would finally be with its rightful owner. But Nathaniel knew that would leave him without a firearm, which would be a very foolish thing for him to do. And deep down he knew Uncas would not want the rifle anyway. Several times he had offered to trade it for his brother's current weapon, and each time Uncas adamantly refused. The long rifle belonged to Nathaniel. End of discussion as far as Uncas was concerned.
Sensing movement nearby, Nathaniel turned away from the grave and watched as Chingachgook slowly made his way back to the camp. Wearily, his father resumed his seat beside him, letting go a heavy sigh after he sat down. For several moments the two sat in numbed silence until finally Chingachgook spoke, his voice grim.
"I failed him. I failed my son. Uncas was everything I ever wished for him to be. Strong, handsome. A skilled hunter, tracker and marksman, with an eye that was even sharper than yours. On foot, his speed was unrivaled, earning him the name Bounding Elk by his many admirers. In battle he was fearless, and a force to be reckoned with, as the bodies of those fallen Huron on the cliff can attest. He was a true Mohican warrior. The best of the three of us. But now my son is dead." Chingachgook said, his voice trailing off to a whisper. "And I will never forgive myself for causing his death."
"I am the one who failed him, Father." Nathaniel replied. "I promised Uncas that I would always take care of him. Look out for him. Watch his back in a fight. I should have been up there on that cliff with him when he took on that war party. If I had been, then maybe…..maybe he'd still be alive. But I wasn't strong enough. I let that river carry me away, and now he's…he's…"
Before he could finish, Nathaniel finally broke down, releasing the grief he'd kept bottled up inside of him all this time for his father's sake. Feeling a hand between his shoulders, he forced himself to look with stricken eyes at Chingachgook, who shook his head in disagreement.
"What happened was not your fault, my son. It was mine. Uncas was a precious gift, whose life the Great Spirit entrusted me with. But I was not the father he deserved. Time and again I put his life in danger because I made mistakes and used poor judgement. But the many mistakes I made since the George Road, cost him his life."
Reaching inside his shirt, Chingachgook extracted the buckskin possibles pouch Uncas always wore on his belt. Having buried the lead shot it contained with its owner so that he could hunt in the next world, he had kept the pouch for himself to remember his son by, just as he had done with Wolf's baby rattle. Customarily this was not done because it was believed that the spirit of the departed might remain with their belongings, but Chingachgook didn't care. It brought him a small measure of comfort to believe that the spirits of Uncas and Wolf might visit him. Reaching next into his pack, he removed the baby rattle. Holding both items reverently in his hands, he lovingly gazed at them as his thoughts drifted back once more to the joyful day the twins were born.
The first to arrive was Teme, his bold and courageous little Wolf. Then came Uncas, his clever and mischievous little Fox. Many was the night during those first weeks after their birth that Chingachgook would lie awake at night, watching in awe as these two tiny miracles slept. Some nights, when one or both of the babies would begin to fuss between feedings, he would quickly tend to them before they woke their mother. After changing the soiled cattail down in their buckskin clouts, he would then cradle his sons in his arms, soothingly caressing them while softly singing a Mohican lullaby to lull them back to sleep. During these tender moments, Wolf would always smile at Chingachgook, cooing and gurgling as though singing along with him. As for Uncas, he would watch his father intently, fascinated by the sound of his voice, and listening to every word as if he were trying to learn them. Later, when they were toddlers, the twins became Chingachgook's shadow, following him everywhere they could around the village, and imitating everything he did with complete adoration in their eyes. And it was something Uncas continued to do in the years that followed, as he began learning the ways of a warrior, hunter and trapper.
Still looking down at Wolf's rattle and Uncas' buckskin pouch, Chingachgook's vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes. Softly, he began singing another Mohican lullaby that both Uncas and Wolf had been fond of. As he sang, he lovingly ran his fingers over the Wolf painted on the rattle, and on the quillwork fox on Uncas' pouch. When he finished the song, he held the items to his chest as though embracing their owners. With reluctance, Chingachgook slowly lowered them to his lap as a tight lipped Nathaniel watched.
"Both of my blood sons are dead." Chingachgook softly lamented, once again running his thumbs over the pouch and rattle. "They were my life, my reason for living. Now they are both gone. I should have taken all of you away from the village when the sickness first came. But I didn't, and my little Teme paid the price with his life. When he died, he took part of me with him, and I would have given up then and there were it not for Uncas. Uncas gave me hope, and a reason to go on living. All I ever wanted was the best for him. To find a good wife who loved him, and made him happy. And when he found her, was I happy for him? Did I support his choice? No! Instead I disapproved of his wife, and turned my back on him for having chosen her. I even slapped him, telling him he was no longer my son. Never did I raise my hand to him before that day! I did not trust his judgement. But it was my judgement I should not have trusted, and it always has been. I could not see Uncas for the man he had become. In my eyes, he was still my little boy, who I needed to protect. But when he did need my protection…..I let him down. Leaving Uncas behind in that cavern was a terrible mistake. And not taking Wolf away from the village was another. Now because of me, Uncas and his wife are dead. And my little Teme never had the chance to grow to be a man. Oh what a fool I have been! I'm sorry, my sons. I failed you both."
Weeping openly, Chingachgook's tears fell onto his hands as he placed Wolf's baby rattle inside of Uncas' buckskin pouch. "I am sorry, my sons. I am so sorry. I failed you both." he repeated as he tied the pouch shut.
"At least now you are both together again."
"I'm so tired of being here.
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
All of me..."
"My Immortal", by Evanescence
Author Note: Happy New Year everybody!
First of all, I would like to thank all of you for your patience while Second Chances was on hiatus. I realize it was a long wait, even after I finally finished the other story I was working on. But when I resumed work on Second Chances, I remembered why I'd put it on hiatus in the first place. It was because the story had reached a point where the plot was undergoing a major rewrite. Those of you who might have read the original version and still remember it will know what I mean by that. From here on out, the story will hardly resemble the original version at all. I'm going to do my best to not take so long with the next update, but there are some major details I have to work out with what happens next, so I hope you will be patient with me once again.
The entire time I was writing the Chingachgook and Nathaniel sections in this chapter, the song "My Immortal" kept playing in my head. In fact, that song was the inspiration for their sections, as was the end credits which played at the end of Last of the Mohicans. The next time you watch LOTM, listen to the music at the very end all the way through to the conclusion of the credits. That song, combined with the view of the foggy mountains, is so fitting for a grieving father who just buried his son, as is "My Immortal".
The song "La Vista" is by Ry Cooder, and was part of the soundtrack for the movie "Geronimo, an American Legend" with Wes Studi. Give that a listen too, and imagine yourself sitting with the gang outside on the Westons' portal. And Charro's version of "Malagueñas" was what I imagined Wolf playing for everyone on Jake's guitar, even though it's a contemporary song that Wolf would never have learned back in the 1800's. Still. Can't you just picture him playing that? And Cora watching him with stars in her eyes?
Speaking of Cora, it's a good thing Wolf and Uncas intervened before Alice could storm into Cora's room and verbally bitch-slap the hell out of her sister! LOL! As I said earlier, anyone who remembers the original version of Second Chances knows that the relationship between Wolf and Cora was completely different than it is now. In the original, the two of them were like: "Hi!" "Hi!" "I love you!" "I love you too!" "Let's get married!" "Ok!" Yeah, no, sorry you two. I was a new and inexperienced author when I wrote that. This time you two are going to go through some major angst. *Cora groans and throws a dishtowel down on the countertop, Wolf walks off muttering obscenities while flipping me the bird*
I kind of imagine Wolf as being a combination of Uncas and Eric Schweig, with a little bit of Pike Dexter from "Big Eden" mixed in whenever he's embarrassed or feeling vulnerable. He's just a big, tough, strong, brave, tender and cuddly teddy bear!
Oh, and just as a reminder (since this story has been on hiatus for over a year), the "bodies" of Uncas and Alice were not real. When Roarke takes someone through the fog to the new place they will be living, an imaginary body that looks and feels real is left behind for those who need to believe the people who left have died. Boy! I certainly know how to make complicated plots, don't I?
Ok, we're almost done with Second Chances. At this point I'm thinking there will be one more chapter, with an epilogue that will either be included in it, or will be separate. I'm not sure yet. Once this story has been completed, I have several new LOTM period set series (Yes! You heard right! SERIES!) waiting in the wings. Both of them will begin in 1757 and will follow the movie….but in their own unique way! Muhaaaaaaaaaaaa!
I also have an idea for a third Uncas/Wolf story, that when combined with the already published sequel "Shadows of the Past" and "Second Chances", will form the "Uncas and Wolf Trilogy". This story is still in the early development stages, and won't be ready to be written for some time yet, so please let me know in a review or PM if you are interested in reading a third story about the twins. Your feedback will determine whether or not there is enough interest in it.
My thanks again to all of you for hanging in there while Second Chances was on hiatus. And a special thank you goes out to BrynnaRaven, BlueSaffire, Eilan21, and MelancholyAndBlithe for all of your support and encouragement. Your support, friendship and humor mean the world to me!
Ok! On we go to chapter 22. What will happen now I wonder?