Bear Naked 4: The Sons of Garm

Chapter 12

Uncle Johan's library was an eclectic mix of books. He had modern neo-pagan books on witchcraft and shamanism, sagas and mythology books from a century ago and, the most intriguing for Jay, a couple of hand bound books that had been passed down in their clan for generations.

That was what had prompted Jay to beg to apprentice with him. It was one thing to read a book written by a modern author on the subject, but to see that this man had a tradition that went back generations was another. There could be no doubt that Johan was the real deal.

Jay would have loved to spend an entire summer just reading, but Johan had work for him the first thing the next morning constructing the spirit boat.

There was no sign of Ghost that morning or into the day. Jay tried to ask about his story, but found Johan as cryptic as his mom. "Why won't anyone tell me directly what the deal is?" He groused.

"Should find out for yourself," Johan answered.

"That's what mom said."

"She's right."

"Why?"

"You'll see in time. Then if you think it should have been handle differently, we can talk about it. Now lay down."

Jay lay on the earth in the indicated spot. Johan hammered stakes at Jay's shoulder, feet and head. Then he gestured Jay up. They used the stakes to lay out the edges of the boat, half burying stones in a narrow oval, with the taller stones towards the top.

"I should have brought the stone carving of a dragon I found at Uncle Darren's cabin. It could be the front bow of my boat. Think he'd like that."

"No," Johan disagreed. "No decorations."

"But," Jay started.

"No. The secret is up here," Johan tapped Jay's forehead. "Once you've mastered the technique you won't need the boat, the drumming, the ritual, anything. Decorations, honouring this person or that, they'll just tie you to the boat, the form of the thing."

"Yes, master," Jay joked.

Constructing the boat took the better part of the day. They saw nothing of Ghost. "Where is he?" Jay asked over supper.

Johan shrugged.

"He comes and goes," Sofia said. "Who knows, maybe he's off to the next farm."

That night Johan fired up the small sauna. He and Jay sweated, a dark intense sweat. Johan sang a long joik, a sami folk song about the wind and ice.

Afterwards they went to Jay's new boat. Sofia had built a small fire beside it. Her and Corey had drums.

Jay lay in the boat, which was barely big enough for his frame. He stared up at the stars.

"You remember the exercise I gave you?" Johan asked.

Jay nodded and closed his eyes, the feel of the stones at his side, the warm, soft earth under him. The smell of pine branches, added to the fire to keep mosquitoes at bay, washed over him. He heard the chirping of crickets and other night sounds.

Corey and Sofia started a simple rhythm. Johan sang, his voice going up and down.

Jay recalled the image of a small cave he'd visited with Amanda and her pack in Northern Iowa. He imagined himself going within. New agers and meditators sought to go up, to transcend their limitations. Shamans and pagans went down, into the earth, to the underworld, to transform them.

He entered the cave and was falling suddenly, through a deep vast darkness.

Lohtta Abelson woke to the sounds of shouting. The embers of the fire lit the Lavvu, the one room, teepee-like house where she lived.