The Ghost of the Sorrowful Mother of the Bluffs

A Historial Fiction Short Story written for a contest. Part of a book I am currently writing

    

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The Ghost of ‘The Sorrowful Mother of the Bluffs’

     It was a beautiful day on the hill just above the long beach.  With her daughter Aquene off to school, and her husband Charles out to sea for the day, Miakoda was looking forward to getting out into the forest and along the Nessaquogue River to gather her wild flowers, herbs and roots for the medicines she prepared.

     On gathering days, Miakoda liked to put on her traditional native Indian garb--deer skin dress, wampum shell necklaces, and soft deer skin moccasins.  She had tried to wear her Victorian dresses while gathering before, but they were so tight and constricting.  Besides being more comfortable, and perhaps more importantly, she felt connected with Mother Earth and Spirit while wearing her native clothing.

     “Tunia”, she called to the family dog (short for Petunia), “let’s go for a walk in the woods, shall we?”  Tunia galloped over to Miakoda’s side, and the two happily began walking down the hill towards the road to the long beach.  Miakoda could feel the leaves crunching through the soft moccasins that she wore on her feet.  Taking in deep breaths, she smelled the strong earthy scent that rose from the ground she walked on.  Miakoda smiled and hummed a song of harvest her tribe used to sing during harvest time.  Days of gathering brought peace to Miakoda’s world.

     Along the way to the Nessaquogue River, Miakoda found most of the plants she needed to replenish her supply of medicines she used to treat the townspeople.  Bloodroot, Slippery Elm, Trillium and Maidenhair Fern.  Tunia[A1] [AI2] [AI3]  started to head down a different path towards Miakoda’s brother’s house. 

     “Not today Tunia, Come!” she called after her beloved dog.  Tunia stopped, turned around, and briefly looked quizzically at Miakoda, as if to say, ‘What?  We’re not going to Numat’s (brother’s)?’

      “I know Tunia.  It has been a while since we visited him.  Maybe next week.”, she replied, as if the dog had actually spoken to her.

   Before she could see the river, she heard the rhythm its water gently rolling over the rocks.  Closer to the river, the air smelled clean, light and sweet, much different than the deep, strong scent of the forest ground.  Again, she took in a long, deep breathe, then sat down at the base of a large Tulip Tree.  It was her favorite place to rest and give thanks to Spirit and Mother Earth for supplying her with the plants and roots she needed to heal people.

   In a reverent, low voice, Miakoda began to pray in the Algonquin language:

   “Father Spirit, Thank you for the sun rising upon us today to give us light, warmth, and hope.  For guiding me with your loving wisdom to heal others.”  I thank you for the four directions, the east, the south, the west, and the north.  Mother Earth, thank you for the fertile soil, the abundance of plants, roots and herbs that heal us.  Thank you for the rise of the sun and the resting sun and for each season of life”

After another deep breath in, she slowly rose, as she watched Tunia come trotting out of the river.  Laughing, she said “Tunia!  You silly dog.  Come now, it’s time to head home.  Aquene will be coming from school, maybe we might meet her on the way.”  Excitement welled up in her stomach, and a warm joy filled her heart at the thought of meeting up with her daughter, Aquene.  Quietly, she again htanked Spirit for her life.  She so loved her husband and daughter with all her heart; sometimes, so much so, that it was hard for her to breath.

Along the way, Tunia happily zigged and zagged ahead of her, occasionally stopping to wait for Miakoda to catch up.  When Miakoda got close, Tunia would run towards her with a wagging tail, turn around and race ahead again.  Without notice, Tunia stopped and looked to the east before she took off sprinting.  With hopeful eyes, Miakoda turned to see what Tunia was running towards, hoping it was Aquene.  Sure enough, it was her! 

Even from a distance, Miakoda could read Aquene’s body language, and her heart sank[AI4] .  She knew from past experiences, that Aquene had a rough day.   It was easier for Miakoda to put up with the townspeople’s prejudice nature for she was older and wiser.  As a young teen, though, it was much harder for Aquene to endure the taunting she often received.   Miakoda didn’t know which hurt her daughter more, being called a half breed, or the song they sang taunting her as they ran laughing and screaming:

 (To the tune first comes love then comes marriage)

Mother, mother don’t you know! 

Aquene’s mother is brewing up a spell.

I see her in the moonlight

Stirrin up her pot.  Waiting for the

moment to give us all a fright!

Save us, Save us, here she comes

Flying on her broomstick with all her might!

Drawing closer to Aquene, Miakoda put this cruelty out of her head.  She needed to be strong for her daughter.  “Hello, my Peaceful daughter!”, Miakoda gleefully yelled out. (Aquene means Peaceful)

Aquene didn’t raise her head; she just raised her eyes up to look at her mother, then lowered them, again.  Trying to stay strong and hopeful for Aquene, Miakoda lifted up her basket of plants and roots and said, “Look, I’ve gone gathering.  I know how you love to help me with the preparation for medicines, let’s go home and work together, and we can talk.”   She wondered what more could she say that she hadn’t already said to ease the pain.  All she could do was give Aquene her unconditional love and support.

“No…that’s ok Annazama.” (Annazama, meaning mother.)  Aquene often used her Algonquin language when speaking of her native American family, especially after the school children bullied her).  “May I wear Okomisan’s necklace and go for a walk before father gets home?” 

Aquene referred to her great grandmother as Okomisan, and the necklace she loved and wore when she needed to feel close to her native American roots was a necklace handed down to her from her great grandmother.

Not knowing what else to do to console her daughter, Miakoda agreed, knowing that Aquene just needed time to be alone and in nature to heal her soul.

As the sun began to set, Miakoda wondered when Aquene would arrive home.  The darkness came fast, and the dread Miakoda felt grew just as fast.  It began in the pit of her stomach and slowly grew, as if it were a web, gripping the inside of her stomach.  She kept herself busy cooking dinner to help quell her fear, but it was useless.[A5]   When Charles walked through the door, he greeted Miakoda by holding her shoulders and placing a gentle kiss on her lips, but he soon stepped back, realizing Miakoda was worried.  “What is it Mia?” (that was his pet name for her).

“Charles…Aquene was bothered by the children again today at school.  She went for a walk like she often does, but she hasn’t returned home.  I am worried for her.”

Charles was worried also.  Even though Aquene knew the land well, it was darker than the darkest of nights, and being early spring, it would become very cold.  “I’ll set out to look for her.”

“Wait, I am coming too.”, Miakoda said with a hurried voice.

Charles knew not to argue with her once her mind was set.  “I’ll saddle up the horses and meet you in the barn.”

They searched for hours in the cold, dark moonless night, calling out her name, but they could not find her; maybe she did not want to be found.

Over the years, Charles covered his grief by focusing on his work as a fisherman and various issues in town business.  Miakoda was left completely heartbroken.  She stopped helping the townspeople with her medicines[A6] [A7] .  Aquene was her saving grace--without her, life seemed unbearable.

     Miakoda died seventeen years later of a broken heart.  There was nothing physically wrong with her according to the town doctor, but Miakoda’s health slowly declined until her final passing.

Over the years, people have retold the legend of Miakoda and have ventured out at night to find her ghost.  Although she does not make appearance to all who visit the area, people claim to see frustration and sorrow on her face;, others feel she is trying to communicate a message.  Sometimes she appears as a transparent Native American Indian woman in the clothing of the English.  Others claim they have seen her in her Native American garb and facial paint of red, blue, and yellow.  Her hair is always in a braid hanging over her left shoulder.   No one knows why she has these two personas as a ghost, but collectively, people call her “The Ghost of the Sorrowful Mother of the Bluffs”.

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