Tag: love

Straits and Turns

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excerpt

I had a good bite of my sandwich, turned the food in my mouth and chewed slowly while I stared at the beautiful Goddess who was observing me and after I slowly chewed and swallowed my food while she was chewing hers and while my wife was sipping her red wine, I sent towards the Minoan beauty a kiss with an imperceptible movement of my lips to which the Minoan Goddess reciprocated with an even sweeter kiss sent my way and the pact of the day was sealed, the
beauty the up to now dull day had changed into, brought back my
thoughts about the travellers in the Atocha train station in the bowels
of which thousands of people go through, like that blonde traveller I
met yesterday, who played footsies with me and who would probably
was with her lover, yes at this moment in time, in this big city of
Madrid, she was surely enjoying the body of her husband, or lover,
or Lesbian partner, while the Minoan beauty, who had just finished
paying her waitress, got up and walking towards us and quite unexpectedly
she faced my wife and asked, “visitors?” to which my wife
said “yes”, “Having a good time in Madrid?” “Yes,” my wife said, “how
long have you been here?”, “a week, but we go home tomorrow” my
wife added, “have a great time and safe travels back home…by the way
where is home?”, the Minoan beauty asked, “Vancouver, in Canada,”
my wife said, “well enjoy your stay in Spain” the young woman added,
to which my wife and I said in unison, “thank you” and the Minoan
beauty turned and walked away showing us the calligraphy of her
buttocks, knowing well that I’d make sure I’d pay attention to them
as I paid attention to the unimaginable images she graced me with,
images that surely I’ll keep in my mind for the rest of my life.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4250839#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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excerpt

Ari found a special friendship in Grey Wolf, once Grey Wolf learned from Ari that
he had been avenged for the loss of his ear. Grey Wolf and Leaping Water expected
their first child before the end of the next summer.
Throughout the winter, Rordan and Ula created a deep special connection with
Running Deer and the other camp children, teaching them simple songs in the Celtic
of his own childhood. They called Ula, Aira, meaning Of The Wind, because she
could run like the wind and beat almost anybody in a race. She was expert at throwing
a knife and could hit a target at twenty paces. Ula didn’t mind the new name
because both names sounded so similar and she loved the acknowledgment of her
prowess and strength. The Natives gave Brother Rordan the name Mountain Thrush
for his pleasing voice and happy laugh, though many of the elders referred to him as
Ominotago, Beautiful Voice. The children were also fascinated with his blonde hair,
almost the colour of the cotton traders brought from the Lands of Winter Sun.
For the first time in many years, Brother Rordan had found his niche as a singer
and teacher of song among the Natives. Finten regarded the transformation from
surly boy to happy Brother as a miracle and didn’t object that Rordan and Ula
seemed to spend all their time together. Perhaps this was God’s country after all. He
often thought that if singing were praying twice, the singing of the children would
surely bring conversions.
Music contains a power stronger than many medicines and Brother Rordan’s
chanting was healing Ula’s sadness but she still remained wary, especially toward
Father Finten and Bjorn, both so much older than she or the Brothers. It took a
period of fever, when Ula had to be nursed by Chochmingwu Corn Mother, Brown
Bear’s wife, for Rordan to reach a new closeness with Ula. It was then that he saw her
vulnerability, as she revealed her childhood suffering through fevered ravings and as
he witnessed her tears.
Since her daughter’s murder by Illska, Corn Mother had dedicated herself to healing
the village children and young people. It was a testament to her loving heart that
she nursed one of the white strangers. She also appreciated Rordan’s commitment to
the children and so she reached out to his constant companion.
Corn Mother’s herbs worked their magic. Ula began to speak to Rordan of her
past as she recovered from the fever that had racked her for two weeks, and as she
saw the relief and warmth in Rordan’s eyes.
“How did I come to be a slave? No, I wasn’t taken by Vikings. My parents weren’t
killed in an awful raid. I didn’t crawl out of the flames. My pigshit mother thought
I’d make a good nun and sold me to a convent. A good nun, ha! Could you see me
in a convent?
“My father? I had three fathers. All of them were my father. None of those assholes
was. I was traded to the convent for six chickens and a pig. A pig! My mother got the
better of the deal: She got the pig; they got me.
“I was there a whole bloody year. Thought they’d rescued me from a life of shame
following my mother’s trade. I was their prisoner, more like it. Stale straw and kitchen
slops and prayers, prayers, prayers, morning, noon and night. So I ran off dressed
as a boy. Then they were going to hang me up for a loaf of stale bloody bread. The
sheriff sold me to a Norseman instead.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562826

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763106

Wellspring of Love

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excerpt

“Bobby won’t give you a minute’s anxiety,” Emily said, “and neither
will Katie. I don’t think I can be so confident about that little monkey,
Susie.”
“Strangely enough, Mom, it’s not Susie I’d be worried about, it’s
Katie. She’s sweet and gentle but I also think she may be easily led.
We just pray she’s led in the right ways.”
Millie put her needles and unfinished sock on the coffee table in
front of her. “As far as you and Morley are concerned, she will be.” She
started to rise but sat back quickly with a hand grasping her abdomen.
Tyne sat upright, ready to go to her aunt’s aid. “Are you all right,
Auntie?”
Millie’s face had paled, but she relaxed and forced a smile that
didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I think so. Just a stitch in my side. I’m
fine.” She reached for the coffee table, but Tyne gently touched her
hand.
“Sit for a minute until you feel better. I’ll wash up the tea things.”
She collected their cups and plates and carried them to the kitchen.
As she ran water into the enamel sink, Tyne said a silent prayer
for her aunt. And suddenly she realized there had been something
different about Aunt Millie recently. She didn’t have her usual spark,
and it was obvious she had been losing weight.
Tyne dried the dishes and hung the tea towel over the bar on the
oven door, all the while berating herself for being unaware of changes
in her aunt. Had her nursing skills deteriorated so much that she
didn’t notice something so basic about one of her own family? Where
had her attention been? Was she so absorbed in the children’s needs
that she hadn’t looked beyond them to the senior people in her life?
Maybe it was time she returned to work to brush up on the things
that used to be second nature to her. One thing she knew – from
now on she would spend more time with Aunt Millie than she had in
recent months. And Rachael would have to step up and help with the
twins. And maybe, just maybe, that would also solve the problem of
the amount of time she spent with Lyssa.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562917

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763327

Ken Kirkby, A Painter’s Quest for Canada

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excerpt

“Do you like it there?”
“No. It’s not where my heart wants to be but it is where I have to be.”
“I was in Toronto once. I married Hilu’s father and he was from Ottawa,
so I’ve been to Ottawa too.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know how you people can live in a place like that. It’s soulless.
It’s like people living in caves up in the air. It’s just not human. How is it
that someone who isn’t born here, who doesn’t live here, and only spent a
few years here, can love this place and these people so much?”
“I don’t know,” Ken said. “I don’t know how that happened. We can
have a lot of ideas and we can say a lot of things, but the reality is that we
don’t know these things. We don’t know the first thing about love – we
haven’t a clue. We have all sorts of feelings and all sorts of passions. We
call it love and hate, but that’s just a lazy way of expressing something
we know nothing about. I think love is something that is lived. It doesn’t
have very much to do with the other person although we focus the idea
on one person. I think it’s a life lived in a particular way. It encompasses
all the things that are in that life and it depends on how that life is lived,
whether the invitation to love will be heard and accepted. I don’t think
there is any language, including Inuktitut, that truly expresses what that’s
all about. The only conclusion I can come to is the one I’ve given you.”
Joan let a long silence hang between them. Ken finally asked her again,
how she knew this was the place where he had witnessed so much death.
“It’s not just you knowing,” he said. “There’s something more concrete to
it. This is a specific place where a specific thing happened.”
“I know this is the place because my mother knew these people and
knows their story and she knows about you,” Joan said. “This was the
time of my grandmother, and my grandmother knew you. My grandmother
found you very interesting. They called you the quiet Kabluna
– the mysterious white man who had the capacity of silence. That’s how
I know about you.”
“Would it be possible to visit them in Baker Lake?” Ken asked.
“Yes.”
“Could we visit now?”
“They’re away.”
“Away?”
“Visiting.”
“Family and friends?”
“Yes – very far away.”
“So we can’t go and see them?”
“No.”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562830

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073573

Arrows

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excerpt

I, too, was part of the jungle.
Our lovemaking grew into a world of dreams. Apacuana had the
power to take me to a hitherto unknown God, beyond the Church, into
an expanse of uncharted feelings as miraculous as any star-filled sky.
Her body became a refuge, a place for revival, like an inexhaustible
spring of healing waters. It was a gate past which I discovered a world
where loneliness was banished. I was shocked to discover she was part
of me, as much as Bartolomé was, perhaps more.
When we lay in one another’s arms, I forgot to think before I
spoke. I told her things that would have never have left my lips
before I knew her. It astonished me that we could learn compassion
from our own tenderness. This was not a lesson in a book, or a
lecture from a priest, and it was certainly not everyone’s duty to
learn it, but pleasure was natural to her, and she taught me that my
tongue could talk to her in ways I had never imagined possible.
And it was these conversations of pure touch, with our expanding
vocabulary of caresses, that I yearned for, that I craved, as much as
the need to satisfy my own desire. And so I came to value frankness
as a form of kindness. She loved me for who I was, not for what I
represented. The truth was simple with her.
She began to trust me with her thoughts. She talked to me, and she
told me how she feared for her future, for the future of her people, and
especially for Matyba and Padumay. Apacuana was wise beyond her
years, perhaps wise beyond her sex. Or were all women wiser than
men and men were trained by other men not to see?
That morning, at the base of that tree, as we lay staring at the sky, I
suddenly asked myself what, in God’s name, was I doing with her?
She must have read my mind, for she turned to me. “If my bleeding
stops,” she said, “will you stay?”

Five days of hard drinking had passed since the killings, and I saw
drunken people sleeping in the most unlikely places. I left the hut for
bare necessities only, but Apacuana came to see me several times…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562848

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Still Waters

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excerpt

Tyne pursed her lips and looked down at the table. Several seconds
passed in silence while she moved her mug of tea in circles in front
of her. Then she looked up. “All right, Auntie, tell me what I’ll have
to do.” She could not hide the excitement in her voice. 
She attended her first meeting of the Furnishings Committee of
the Emblem & District Hospital the following Thursday evening at
Millie’s home. Three other members greeted Tyne with enthusiasm.
“Your help will be invaluable, Tyne,” Laura Charters said. “I’m so
glad your aunt persuaded you to come. How’s your dad, by the way?”
“He’s doing well, thank you,” Tyne told the mother of the girl who
had been her best friend through high school. “He’s determined to
fight this thing, so that helps.”
Jennifer Sears, a young school teacher whom Tyne had not previously
met, nodded her head in agreement. “I’m pleased to hear he’s
getting better, Tyne. I met him when he came to see me about Jeremy’s
grades. I like your dad.”
Goodness, could this be one of Jeremy’s teachers? She looked far
too young.
The third member of the committee was the wife of the Royal
Bank manager. Edith Siebold was getting on in years being, it was
said, at least ten years older than her husband. Tyne had always had
the greatest respect for her, and regarded her as one of the most
charming and cultured women she knew.
Tyne helped her aunt serve coffee as the women gathered around
the kitchen table. Then Millie called the meeting to order. Catalogues
with information on everything from hospital beds to overbed tables
to stainless steel supply carts were spread out over the Formica top.
Even after the first hour Tyne was overwhelmed by the number
of decisions and the amount of research the committee had to face.
She wondered how they even knew where to begin, but was pleased
when, a number of times throughout the evening, they called on her
for advice.
“After all,” Laura Charters pointed out, “who is better equipped to
deal with these things than a recently graduated nurse?”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068

Arrows

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excerpt

Guacaipuro surveyed the damage.
“Your god,” he panted, “is evil.”
Then he seemed to see something in the shadows of the bushes
illuminated by the firelight, and all distress lifted from his
countenance. He reached out, but life left him at that moment. He
collapsed onto Urquía, his face buried in her bosom. I gawked at
them. He had trusted me with her life, and there she was, dead. And
he saw her die.
I was on my feet. Where had all the air gone? I gasped, trying to
suck it in, and stumbled away. My knees buckled, and I held myself
by the middle. A shout emerged from the centre of my soul, a long
throat-shredding, “No!”
She hadn’t converted either.
The Spaniards stepped back. I would have liked to see them try
and touch his body, chop off his head and take it as a trophy.
Something stopped them. Horror, I guess. As they fled uphill,
leaving only desolation behind, I felt Benjamin’s big hand on my
shoulder.
“Coming?”
I shot him a loathing look; pain choked me, tears stung my eyes,
my head throbbed. I saw in the fleeting expression that crossed his
face that that was the last thing he expected from me. He strode
away, looking back over his big, swaying shoulders a couple of
times. It was not his fault, of course, but at that moment he became
the Spaniards, a group I did not want to belong to any longer. My
reaction was unjust, and I knew it, but couldn’t bring myself to be
like Jesus.
Had I ever?
The next hours were filled with the numbness of incredulity. I just
sat there until the hut was nothing more than a glowing mass of
smouldering thatch. Desolation after the storm. Not a breath of hope
in the air. Nothing but pain and sorrow. Fragments of the person…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562848

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Arrows

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excerpt

Guacaipuro surveyed the damage.
“Your god,” he panted, “is evil.”
Then he seemed to see something in the shadows of the bushes
illuminated by the firelight, and all distress lifted from his
countenance. He reached out, but life left him at that moment. He
collapsed onto Urquía, his face buried in her bosom. I gawked at
them. He had trusted me with her life, and there she was, dead. And
he saw her die.
I was on my feet. Where had all the air gone? I gasped, trying to
suck it in, and stumbled away. My knees buckled, and I held myself
by the middle. A shout emerged from the centre of my soul, a long
throat-shredding, “No!”
She hadn’t converted either.
The Spaniards stepped back. I would have liked to see them try
and touch his body, chop off his head and take it as a trophy.
Something stopped them. Horror, I guess. As they fled uphill,
leaving only desolation behind, I felt Benjamin’s big hand on my
shoulder.
“Coming?”
I shot him a loathing look; pain choked me, tears stung my eyes,
my head throbbed. I saw in the fleeting expression that crossed his
face that that was the last thing he expected from me. He strode
away, looking back over his big, swaying shoulders a couple of
times. It was not his fault, of course, but at that moment he became
the Spaniards, a group I did not want to belong to any longer. My
reaction was unjust, and I knew it, but couldn’t bring myself to be
like Jesus.
Had I ever?
The next hours were filled with the numbness of incredulity. I just
sat there until the hut was nothing more than a glowing mass of
smouldering thatch. Desolation after the storm. Not a breath of hope
in the air. Nothing but pain and sorrow. Fragments of the person I…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562848

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

Despite all the atrocities the Indian children have experienced
the system couldn’t change them, couldn’t mould them to
their ways. Why these kids can’t become like the proselytizing
Anglos? What keeps them and sustains them and they remain
Indians? How these savages know how to maintain their beliefs
and way of life despite the efforts of the occupiers and proselytizing
church fathers? The only answer lies in the natural abilities of
these savages to never compromise their beliefs and rights which
is the only way they can maintain their sense of goal and purpose
in life. And so they take the hits and strikes and punishments
while they maintain their composure and their rigidity knowing
well in their hearts that what goes around comes around. Truly
this has kept them alive and strong and optimistic that one day
things might turn to their favor.
Suddenly a thought came to Anton, an epiphany one could
say: he could go and take up studies as his father would like him
to do. Yes that could be his future, a higher diploma and a new
career. A university in the East would serve well in that respect
and Mary could feel good to go with him. Yes, a new beginning.
He couldn’t wait until he asked Mary what her feelings would be
for something like that.
❧
Marcus and Lucas got very angry upon learning about last night’s
incident and the light punishment Mr. Wilson received from
Father Jerome. George was very angry too, so was Anton, but
both Anton and George knew the law had to be abided and vigilante
solutions weren’t the best under the circumstances. So they
only hoped that the RCMP would charge the teacher and the
case would end up in a court of law where he would be sentenced
properly. However these explanations weren’t at all satisfactory
to the two Indian youths who would like to see the guilty man…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Swamped

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excerpt

“Well, don’t make it. There’s no need. Ariana is a woman I enjoy
being with, and that’s that.”
“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself involved with someone and
are even bringing her to the house and…” She left the sentence unfinished.
Eteo felt hot and flushed at hearing these words.
“You might have thought of that before you left.”
There was silence for several seconds. Eteo listened to her rapid
breathing, expecting the other shoe to fall at any moment. Finally he
said, “I’ve got to go, Roula. I’m very busy.”
“Don’t go, wait,” she pleaded. “You are not serious about this
woman, are you? In any case, you shouldn’t have her around my
sons.”
“As I said, Roula, where I have her is none of your business. You
have no right to tell me who I can bring to the house.”
“Oh God, have you forgotten all the years we lived together? How
could you?”
“You’re the one who left. Now leave me alone,” Eteo said and put
the phone down.
Now he really needed to relax, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He
turned toward the eastern horizon again, feeling as gloomy as the
cloudy sky. His reflection in the glass looked as sullen as the darkening
horizon.
His bitter thoughts were interrupted by Helena buzzing to let
him know Bernard was there to see him.
“Hello, Bernard. What brings you here?” Eteo asked as the
shaggy-haired man strode into the office
“Your associate,” Bernard barked without any preamble. “I see a
dead market, and I wonder what kind of hole I’ve gotten myself into
with your help.”
“What do you mean? You made a deal with him and he looked
after you. Why are you complaining to me?”
“I placed those shares because he gave me his word that he’s got
the well. I only hope he hasn’t double-crossed me. If he lied to me,
he can kiss his market goodbye for a long time.”
“I can’t say one way or the other, Bernard. He told me the hole is…

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562976

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WP3LMPX