Hello again everyone! I hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday season and thank you as always to everyone who has read/reviewed this story! This part of the story will be split into two parts so that I can (hopefully) adequately portray the thoughts and feelings of the characters and create the right "emotional climate." Enjoy!

Chapter 4-Give & Take Part I

At least we get to live in a proper house. Ethan helped Ongewasgone set the wooden trunk against the wall in the bedroom that he and Tsiron:iare would share. "There." Ongewasgone gave him a small smile and clapped him on the shoulder. "Only a few things more and then we will be done." Ethan nodded, not knowing what to say. It was hard to know what to say to his master most of the time. Although it had been over a month since they'd arrived in Canajoharie, he still didn't feel able to be at ease with him.

About a week ago, Tsiron:iare had told Olivia and him at bedtime that she and Ongewasgone had bought a house from a Mohawk family in Canajoharie who was moving to one of the other Mohawk towns. "It'll be more of what you were used to before." She had said, smiling at them before giving Ethan an almost hopeful look. He had thanked her, but noticed the look of disappointment on her face as if she was expecting more. He wasn't sure what she wanted from him sometimes. You are not my mother. He and Olivia already had a mother and she was gone now. That was that.

The house that they were going to be living in now was a two story frame house with glass windows, two stone chimneys on either side of the house and solid doors. There were enough rooms that he and Olivia would each have their own, like they had in Boston. It was simpler than their home in Boston, but nicer than the small one-room cabin they had all shared together on Cousin Henry and Cousin Adelaide's farm. Ethan remembered Mother crying in Father's arms that first night after they'd arrived when he and Olivia were supposed to be asleep. Father had looked so sad and helpless as he had tried to cheer Mother up, promising her that he would build another room or two onto the cabin as soon as he could. Now that will never happen. Ethan suddenly longed for the cabin with all his heart. He'd hated the place because it wasn't Boston but at least it was where their Mother and Father were. Not with these people who kept trying to say they were his new family.

"Riien:'a?"

Ethan jumped a little at the sound of Ongewasgone's voice and looked up to see him standing in the doorway looking at him expectantly. He motioned outside. "Let us finish what we need to do." He said and Ethan followed him back out of the house. He wondered what the Indian word that his master had just called him meant. He had heard it a lot around Canajoharie and both Ongewasgone and Tsiron:iare had used it when speaking to him. But so had other people in the town. Was it an insult? Somehow he didn't think so but he didn't want to know what it mean either. He'd continue to speak the King's English no matter what. Olivia was picking up some of the Mohawk language though and it worried him. She had become friends with another little girl in the town and they spent a lot of time together even though she was a little older than Olivia. Whenever she came back from playing with her, she seemed excited to tell Ethan about all the new words she was learning. No matter how many times Ethan tried to tell her she shouldn't say those words out of earshot of their masters, she didn't listen. Will she forget our family soon?

Deep down, he also worried for himself. Ongewasgone and other Mohawk men were keeping him busy too. His master was trying to show him different things, from fishing to repairing canoes. The other day, he had given him a wooden bow and set of arrows and taken him outside to an open place alongside the palisade's walls where he had taken out a wooden ball and let it roll slowly across the ground. He'd told Ethan to try and hit it with an arrow. Ethan had never handled a bow before and hadn't known what to do. As he fumbled with the bow, he had suddenly felt Ongewasgone's hands on his own and guide him to the proper position. "You've never used a bow before." He had said plainly. Ethan had only nodded, not knowing what else to do. His master did not look angry though. "We will start small then." That was all Ongewasgone had said before leading him through the basics of using a bow and arrow. He was a good teacher, Ethan had to admit even if he made him do the same thing over and over again until he was satisfied. But it was the look in his eyes that had bothered Ethan the most. They seemed almost proud of him as he began to feel more comfortable with handling the bow. He didn't like it. Just then he saw Ongewasgone looking at him with the same expression. A burst of anger welled up in him and he wanted to kick the side of the house while he helped move the last few things into the house but he didn't dare. I must remain English.

That evening, Ongewasgone entered the room that he and Tsiron:iare would share as their bedroom. Ethan and Olivia had already gone to bed after they had supper together, their first meal in their new home. The children had seemed more comfortable in the house than in the longhouse, as he had suspected that they would be. It would take him some time to adjust to living in it though. While he and Tsiron:iare had spent a lot of time with their both their fellow Mohawk and settler friends who lived in European style houses, they had never lived in one before. It felt strange to see their belongings arranged in it. But he would get used to it in time. It is for the children.

Tsiron:iare sat on their new bed, sewing a calico shirt. She smiled up at him. "Just a few more stitches and I will be done." She said. Finishing the shirt, she folded it neatly and added it to one of the two bundles that she had placed on top of the trunk. "There. That was the last item needed for Ethan. Now he and Olivia each have a full set of clothes. I will give them to them tomorrow." Ongewasgone nodded. They were both in agreement that while they were allowing Ethan and Olivia to keep some of their ways, they needed to accept theirs as well. Part of that was their clothes. Still, he felt unsettled as they prepared for bed. Ethan had become less hostile and sullen as the weeks had gone by but that wasn't saying much. He still made it clear that he didn't want to be with them and resisted any attempt to integrate him into their culture. He didn't even seem to remember the names of his most of his new relatives and Ongewasgone was sure that it wasn't an accident. It is only a set of clothes. But he had a feeling that Ethan would not see it that way. Drawing on his years of experience in remaining calm no matter the situation, he was able to fall asleep.

Knock. Knock. Mother must be waking him up. It sounded like her knock. Or maybe it was one of the maids. But it was usually Mother. He groaned and rolled over in bed. Just a little longer.

"Ethan?" It wasn't Mother's voice at the door. He sat straight up in bed, staring around at the room. This is not Boston. Everything came back, just like it did every morning. The loss of their family's money, the move to the frontier, the attack and their captivity with the Huron and now the Mohawk. They were living with their owners, Ongewasgone and Tsiron:iare, who had moved them yesterday into a house. It was Tsiron:iare who had knocked and called out his name.

"Ethan? It is time to wake up." Before he could get out of the bed or answer her, the door opened and Tsiron:iare stepped in, carrying something in her arms. Bleary eyed, he blinked to clear his eyes. She motioned for him to get out of bed so he did. "I finished a set of clothes for you last night. Please put them on. We need to return the others." She placed the bundle of clothing on the bed and left the room.

Ethan stared at the bundle of clothing for a while, not wanting to even touch it. Is it…no. Surely they wouldn't expect him to wear that even if they were being adopted. But the clothing from what he could see of it didn't look anything like English clothing. Parts of it were cloth but some of it was deerskin.

"Ethan!" Olivia's voice came from the open doorway. Turning around, he felt frozen in horror. His little sister wore a long Indian tunic and leggings instead of a decent gown and apron. Worst of all, she was smiling. "Why are you wearing that?" he demanded. Olivia shrugged and spun around. "Ista gave them to me. She said she gave you some too. But yours are boy clothes." She spun around again, oblivious to Ethan's rising anger and despair. Not only was his sister wearing Indian clothes, now she was speaking Indian. "Take them off and put your proper clothes back on." He said angrily. Olivia stopped spinning and her lower lip trembled. "But Ista said to wear these." "Take them off!" Olivia burst into tears and ran out of the room. Ethan grabbed the bundle Tsiron:iare had left for him and looked at the Indian clothes before wadding them up and stomping downstairs.

Tsiron:iare heard the noise and met him at the bottom of the stairs. "There is no need to shout at your sister. Do your clothes not fit?" she said calmly. She knew they fit him but asking him that might make him talk to her about what was going on. That only made Ethan angrier. "I can't wear these." He said, trying to give them back to her. She didn't take them. "I made them for you. You need to wear them." She said, remembering for what felt like the thousandth time to be patient with him. "They're Indian clothes. We're not Indian." Ethan said hotly. Tsiron:iare felt irritated by his near refusal to say Mohawk and not Indian. Time and time again, Ethan often refused to show even the most basic of manners or courtesy to everyone around him. He is still adjusting. His anger and rudeness is only to hide his fears.

"You are part of a Mohawk household now and will soon be a son of the Wolf clan. We have let you keep some of your English ways, and now it is time for you to try some of ours which includes our clothes." She kept her voice firm and even. He was only a boy and needed guidance. "I won't wear these!" Ethan shoved the clothes at her chest and stomped out of the house. Unable to grab all of the clothes before they fell to the ground, Tsiron:iare stooped down and picked up the fallen items. All of them were rumpled up. She started to smooth the creases in the shirt and breechclout, trying to ignore the pain in her heart. Can't he try and accept us, if only a little bit?

Ethan walked through Canajoharie, looking for Anen:taks. He was surprised that the young Mohawk warrior hadn't found him yet. He had come to expect it in a way. Anen:taks often came and found him when was walking through the town, always greeting him and trying to talk to him. He was willing to give Ethan answers too which was what he needed right now.

Deciding to check the front of the palisade where Anen:taks sometimes stood guard, he found him standing there with a group of Mohawk warriors and several Palatine farmers. Ethan didn't return any of the greetings he was given and tried to avoid the gaze of the Palatine men. They were friendly with the Mohawk and he couldn't trust them. Anen:taks noticed him. "She: kon." He said while Ethan nodded in return. Anen:taks was the only person he would greet. But that was because he wouldn't speak to him unless he did. Once, Ethan had tried to start asking him questions without nodding only to have the Mohawk warrior look back at him without saying anything. When Ethan had demanded if he could hear him, he had simply said that he had not returned his greeting and wouldn't speak to him further until he acknowledged him. Fortunately, he counted the nod as enough.

"What does Ista mean?" he asked Anen:taks. Since Olivia had used that word that morning, he needed to know what it meant. He had to protect his little sister from becoming an Indian or accepting Mohawk ways. "It means "mother," but we also use it for our aunts." Anen:taks answered, studying Ethan's face carefully.

Ethan didn't know what to say. Anger burned inside him. How could Olivia betray Mother's memory like that? She's little. It's not really her fault. It's Tsiron:iare's. "And riien:'a means?" He bit out, once he felt like he could talk. "My son."

Anen:taks turned his gaze away from Ethan a little, giving him some space to fume privately. At least he's interested in learning our language. He tried to be optimistic about Ethan's questions but in reality he knew that the boy didn't care about learning Mohawk. He didn't care about anything in his new life. No matter how kind or patient they were with him, he rejected any real attempts to help him assimilate into the community. Still, Ethan would be his cousin and his clan brother soon enough. He had lost almost everything in his old life and was feeling out of place in his new one. He would do what he could to help him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Anen:taks saw Ethan take off from the entrance to the palisade and head for the woods. After he reached the treeline and disappeared, he shrugged and looked away. The boy would be back before long. He still didn't know anything about the woods or the land around them. Boys almost half his age knew more than him.

Later that day, Anen:taks was cleaning his rilfe outside the Wolf longhouse when Ongewasgone came up to him. "Have you seen Ethan?" he asked, a worried look on his face. "Yes, rakenoha:'a. He left the palisade this morning when I was on watch." His uncle nodded, the worried crease in his forehead deepening. "He has not returned. We have to go and look for him." Nodding, Anen:taks quickly reassembled his rifle and went back in the longhouse to get more shot and powder.

After his nephew had left to prepare, Ongewasgone thought about how he had found Tsiron:iare holding the wadded up clothes that she had lovingly made for Ethan. "He would not even try them on." She had said, her voice quavering a bit even while her face remained neutral. He had held her, feeling conflicted. Part of him wanted to find Ethan and scold him for his rudeness and disrespect while the other part of him worried desperately for his safety. Ongewasgone looked over to the palisade's entrance and sighed. "Where are you, my son? Please come back to us. I can't lose another son."

Riien:'a: my son

Ista: Mother

So Ethan has decided to try and run away from his new family (we'll see how that works out in the very next chapter). Originally I was going to have this be one long chapter but as I mentioned at the beginning, I decided to split it in order to focus more on the individual aspects. I really feel for both Tsiron:iare and Ongewasgone here, they've dreamed of having children of their own and now to have one of them behave like this. I'm not trying to portray Ethan as a "bad kid" here however; rather as one who is struggling and hurting and just wants his life to go back to the way it used to be. But at the same time, he needs to be put in his place and to show more respect to those around him and his new culture (which I'll be dealing with in the next chapter).