Chases Water

This story was originally written in college as part of a writing in the wild class that spent a weekend in Yellowstone National Park. It sat in my files for years until I decided to update it and incorporate it into my Out of the Shadows series.

The fire crackled under the moonlight, and the man looked out at the young faces staring back at him.

“Tell us the story of your ancestor and the spirit,” a young boy spoke up.

The man smiled. “This is the story of Kimanke Baa as it was told to me, as it was told to my father, and to his father's father, back to the one who walked beside the boiling earth and saw what few have seen."

I am Kimanke Baa of the Newe. Many days I have spent journeying through this mystical land, the land some say is cursed by the spirits, where the ground boils, and the earth spews tears like a mother over a lost child. Every day here holds an even more wondrous sight, but none compare to what I witnessed this day. The time for breaking fast came early this morn as brother Raven returned with his morning's hunt. He led me to a buffalo, drowned the night before when it broke its leg while trying to cross the river. Eating more than my fill in the early morning twilight, I took what I could carry and still felt sadness over what was left as waste. Once the sand was fully from my eyes, I followed Raven on foot. My brother Raven was always wise, a watcher of the land, perhaps he knew what was to come.

It was said that spirits still lived in this land, their home where man was foolish to tread, and that they were the reason for the many strange ways of the earth here. I had never before seen a spirit, and I believed I would have remembered such an honor. Even now, as I think back on that time, I know that it was.

The path mirrored the river as I went, and I could hear the sounds of the falling water ahead. The closer I got, though, the more the sound changed—closer and closer, more and more—until I could swear I heard laughter, a melodious sound that drained away all my weariness from travel and quickened my step against my will.

When I finally reached the place where water falls, I saw the most beautiful sight I had ever laid eyes upon. A spirit was playing in the falling water, laughing and smiling in her own private pond. Her long, silky hair was the blue of light reflecting off a glossed beetle's shell, and her eyes were like a dawn full moon. Her soft skin was as tan as the trees around her, and her gossamer wings were clear gold. She wore a dress so sheer and thin that it was little more than an extension of the water in which she played, and indeed it seemed to be as light as the drops of water from which it appeared to form.

I am not sure how long I stayed, maybe hours, maybe more, but I know that I never seemed to grow hungry or tired as I sat there enjoying her company and laughter, even if she was not aware of mine. I never seemed to need for anything but the sight of her. After a time when Father Sun was painting the sky with the red of a dyed rock and the purple of a fresh onion's skin, and Sister Moon was singing her lullaby to the nighttime world, I finally began to feel my weariness and hunger. In the relaxing joy of her presence, I remembered stories of the danger of some spirits, but I couldn't believe that she was dangerous. I couldn't help but yearn for a closer glimpse of her, a touch if possible to somehow make this more than a fleeting moment. I made my way silently as the deer walks, coming slowly to the edge of that pool. I was so close that the scent of her, like a field after a summer's rain, filled my mind with such fog and desire that I had to get closer. I stepped forward at last placing one foot into the water, a simple act that alerted the beauty to my presence. Surprised from her play, she dove under the surface to disappear, leaving nothing but a smile and a blown kiss to accompany her memory.

The man fell silent. The fire had burned low, and the children huddled closer.

“They say he searched again and again for her after that day.”

"Did he ever find her again?" a girl asked.

The man smiled. "Most believe that he didn't. But my grandfather says he did."

"That's just a fairy tale," said a boy.

"Even fairy tales ring with truth."

The man's eyes, the color of a dawn full moon, glimmered in the firelight.

"Tell us his name again," the girl whispered. "The one who saw her."

"Kimanke Baa," the man said. "It means Chase Water."