InterestEng. stories from English language learners

THERE was a bright flash of lightning.  It was the start of another afternoon rain storm. The lightning made an opening in the sky just wide enough for her to walk through.  That is when I first saw Mapache. I was under a pine tree, waiting for the rain to end. I looked in surprise at the raccoon coming toward me. Where did she come from? The next moment, the opening she walked through closed again with a loud clap of thunder. Suddenly the raccoon said to me, 

     “I am Mapache. [In the language of the Abenaki people it means, “I take all things in my hands. I solve the problems that come to me and do not let them control me.”] I came from a far-off, distant forest. I will be with you until you need me no more and then I will go to a new forest to help someone else.  And you are Akul! [The name Akul in the Abenaki language means Strong.]”      

     How did she know my name? No one knew where I was in the forest. I have lived here five months. I am the youngest of five children. My people live on the shore [edge] of a lake we call Winnipeasaukee, “the Smile of the Great Spirit”. My people are the Abenaki, the people of the dawn [the early morning]. 

     At the start of my 15th summer, I was sent away from my village. By our tradition, boys are sent into the wilderness [a place alone, without other people to help].  Here we are tested. No one can help you with your test. You must be alone in the wilderness. I was told that my test was to survive [to live when life is hard and full of danger] by waiting.  But what I was to wait for, I was not told! I would happily do anything but wait. I hate to wait. My little sister Chenoa [dove] could easily pass this test. She can wait for days as peacefully as a flower waiting to open.  But for me, there is nothing harder than to wait.

     As soon as Mapache appeared, the rain stopped. There was not a cloud in the sky. The sky was as blue as the ocean. The ground was dry as if not one drop of rain fell that day. I did not understand what was happening. Most of all, I did not understand how a raccoon could talk. 

     “Why are you surprised,” said the raccoon, “that I can speak? Even the rocks speak. You simply do not know how to listen!”     

     “But who taught you to speak? And where did you come from?”      

     “I told you. I came from a distant forest and I will be with you until you need me no more. I learned to speak just as you learned. I listen to the sounds around me and repeat them.”

     “But how do you know what the sounds mean?”

     “Have you ever learned something new when you were all alone—when no one was talking to you?  Tell me, how did you learn it?  Who told you the meaning of this thing you learned when you were alone?”

     I didn’t know what to say and so I decided it was better to say nothing. 

   ***

FOR one week Mapache and I were inseparable [together every minute].  We did everything together and in everything we did, when I was with her, there was something to learn. I never knew there was so much to learn!  But then, suddenly, she was gone. I could not find her anywhere. I was so sad that I could not do anything right that day. I cooked her favorite fish, hoping she would smell it and return. Just as I started to cook it, I was sure I saw her coming through the woods. I ran to meet her. But my eyes lied to me. It was only an old piece of wood on the ground. When I returned, the fish was burned. I went to the river to ask her to forgive me for wasting [taking but not being able to eat] her fish. By our tradition, it is very bad to harm or kill nature for no reason. 

     By the law of the forest it is my duty [the work I must do] to protect the smaller creatures [animals]. My father would not forgive me if I let something happen to Mapache. The Abenaki say that when an animal trusts you, you must care for it like your sister or brother. And so, as that day came to an end, I felt as empty as a shadow inside. I fell down on the ground and, without shame, sobbed [cried very hard] until I fell asleep. 

      It was late when I woke up. Mochuelo the owl woke me with her call. She sat above me in a tree, staring down at me with her large eyes. Her sharp calls were full of anger. By the law of the forest, humans have no right to be in the woods at night. This is the time for the gentle creatures [animals] to be free and walk without fear.  I was taking their freedom from them. 

    I wanted to go back to my wigwam [Indian hut] but it was already the Moon of the Waking Bear [the month of May].  The eyes of humans are helpless at night to see tracks [marks made by an animal’s feet]. I had to stay where I was until morning. The night air was cold and my stomach empty. It would be a long night. With a small rock I dug a long, shallow [not deep] place in the ground and lay down in it.  Then I covered myself with dirt and pine needles to stay warm. I laid on my back looking at the Moon hanging lightly between the pine branches.  I said a prayer to the Maker of all light and closed my eyes in peace.

     As soon as I closed my eyes, a path appeared leading up to the Moon. The path came right to where I was lying.  It was so bright. I remembered something my father told me before I left for the wilderness: “The path that comes to you will not disappear until you reach it’s end.”  

     The path was so beautiful. I wanted to run up it! “This must be a trick,” I thought, “to make me leave the wilderness and not wait.” But when I looked up at the path again it gave me such joy. I jumped up and began to run up the path as fast as the wind. The farther I ran, the brighter it became until, all around me, there was light. On and on I ran. I stopped only once to catch my breath. I bent over and put my hands on my knees, breathing very hard. Finally, I stood up and turned to see how far I had come through the forest.  But nothing was familiar!  Where was I?  Was I dreaming or was I in a new wilderness?

   ***   

THE bright morning sun woke me up. The light wasn’t yellow but white. It made the world look very different. I still didn’t know where I was, but I saw an eagle flying overhead.  She was circling, which meant there was water below her. I got up and went toward her. It was not long before I could see the shore of a lake.  When I got to the water, it was more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. It was more than clean.  It was pure.  I did not want to look away. I don’t know how long I was there. I did not speak or move it was so beautiful.  I wondered why I had never seen such purity before?  But then, suddenly, without warning, a deep, angry voice called behind me.

     I did not hear the bear coming. But as soon as I heard her growl [the deep, angry sound made in an animal’s throat] I jumped up and turned quickly around. Her eyes were angry.  She shook her head and growled again at me. I began to ask the bear’s forgiveness for making her angry, but she stood on her back legs, growling more loudly. In terror, I fell on my knees and put my face to the ground.  

     “What are you doing here?” she roared loudly. “You have no right to be here. You have come to our land to run away from your test. What do you have to say for yourself!  Answer me!”

     With much fear I said, “Please tell me, Great Bear, where am I?  What land have I entered?” As soon as I spoke these words, I lifted my head in surprise. Did I say these words? Why did I call this wild animal “Great”?  Why was I afraid of her? By the law of the forest she had no right to speak to me this way. When I stood up on my feet to face her, she roared louder. With great effort, I yelled, “You have no right to speak to me that way!  LEAVE!”  

     Suddenly, the bear was nowhere to be seen.  Where did she go?  Where was I?

     ***