Mesa Trail ch. 40
The End
Draft 2

"The world is full of mystery, isn't it? How do the stingrays know when to migrate to the sandbar in the time for the moon to light their way into the Cut and then back out again? When does a star decide it's done with burning and fall to the earth? Why do the manatees swim with mermaids?" – Keeper









It was Josh who held onto the stories that made up that first summer and beyond.  He was young, impressionable, and remembered all the things that happened, all the things that he had seen, with a bright light and little bit of imagination.  It was Josh who, years later, put it down into words as best as he could.  He wanted to tell the story of his determined sister who turned a life that could have been little less than the standard child, home, school, story and told the one that was more true: that she had contained inside of her a special sort of spirit and it was that very built-in spirit that allowed her see the vision of creating a world by herself and with a lot of helps from her friends and the great backcountry creatures.

She understood the backcountry, she respected it, and the creatures themselves, dare he say, were her friends.  It was Josh who knew much better than to cast Bunkledon as an enemy.  Josh himself, that day up there spent inside the spirit cave, the gold sun cave of the Bear Dance, that came to understand the workings of the magic that was Man's understandings of the world around him.  He gave Bunkledon even more credit than Bunkledon would have given himself, for it was him who looked within himself, finally, and saw that something was not missing, but always there and, like the first kernel of a small flame, just needed lighting.  He was never sure just how to put down the lives of the back country creatures, though.

Was it Biggalow who, from the beginning, made his secretive way down from the back country cliffs to help Hannah haul the gold up and down the sluice? Or was that merely how it was remembered, wished? The land up here was littered with bear boulders and they moved among the shadows of the day and night.  Was it Biggalow that teetered along the edge of the ridge to show Bunkledon a way out of the cold wet canyon? More importantly, so much more importantly, was it the ancient bear spirit that spoke to Bunkledon that day, so that he might trust to follow him? Really, who could know? Josh liked to listen to the stories that Biggalow was in charge of the whole operation and met with his clan at the cave to perform something that once in a lifetime.  Lifetime?  How's about once in generations? Josh decided that after that day Biggalow had in fact moved deeper into the back country, had several cubs, and taught them, day in, day out, the ways of the ancient spirit bears, and rarely lost track of them.  Never trample off toward the city and take the easy food, he might have taught them.  People can be a very kind creature, but if you come around too often to eat near them, they will not be so kind again.  He might have begun to teach the ritual of the sundance again to as many of the clan as would listen, but it had been so long, and many might have looked at it with a downward glaring glance and wondered for what reason?  What is to learn from such a dance, the stars are already ours here in the backcountry, the streams are free, and the caves are open.  Biggalow likely knew the difference from his own days spent around the hundreds of human creatures, but he went on teaching and one day, as with Bunkledon, broke through, finally.  Biggalow's spirit now lives on inside the mind of the cubs, inside the forest floors and the night shadows.

Josh knew the new pod of turtles had found their new home, a waterslide in fact, and would bang and crackle their shells all day long in the summer months in the high country.  It felt oddly like a home they had never yet encountered.  Once in awhile a turtle or two might wiggle off the creek and up into the red rocks and find something that looked an awful lot like themselves embedded into the rocks.  Who would have thought such a thing? They thought they were all just sea-level creatures, for goodness sakes, but their forefathers and mothers, what brave little divers! Turtle Island, the great turtle spirit of the serpent world, right there to see!  Josh knew it was the flitty eyes and quiet song of the sapsucker that told the stories on the other side to the creatures of the backcountry.  The sapsucker went along on its business with seeming to notice a thing, so in tune, so earnest, all the while secretly watching everything.  They knew every little creature in the forest from up there on their perches in the Ponderosas.  They too had a few things to work on, like the young Josh. To tell the true story of the back country had lost its place in the way of things.  To learn it back again, well, sometimes you had to get out there, flap your wings a little, or stand inside the golden cave of a mountain.