Dear Friends:
I am happy to announce that my short story, “Smoke” is a winner in the 2024 Next Generation Short Story Awards competition in the category for Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. Want to read it? Here it is…
Smoke
By Helen Delaney
There is no good end to the smell of smoke, I can tell you that. You shouldn’t trust everything I tell you now though, because a lot of my memory is gone.
You will remember what you need to remember, they say.
My father was dead. My mother had no one to hunt for her and we were always hungry, especially in the winter, and it was winter when he rode into our village with five horses. He came to my mother and said I will give you these five horses for your daughter. And she said I can be rich with five horses but I will still be hungry. You can trade the horses to some men in the village and they will hunt for you, he said. And she said how do you know my daughter? When she said this, her eyes pinched together. I have seen her in the fields looking for food, he said. Will you feed her? And he said, I will feed her. And what will you do with her? Will you make her work like a slave? she said. She will be my wife, he said. My mother looked at me and I knew she was going to give me away and I ran and hid in the bushes until I fell asleep. When I woke, the sun was in my face and he was standing over me. He put me on his horse and he walked alongside, and that is how we left the village. I looked back and my mother was standing outside our dwelling and she was holding the horses.
That is enough, they say. You must sleep now. That is how it is here. You don’t want to remember too much too fast.
Listen. I had a dream. My husband came to me in the dream, the one who bought me with the five horses. He handed me a rabbit to cook. His eyes were black like the river at night. I smiled at him and he smiled back. He went away and I made a fire. l feel better now, because he came to me in the dream and I don’t feel alone anymore. Where am I?
You are here, they say. What happened when you went with him?
I was young and we had not been together yet, so I had to live with his mother. She made me do too many chores, because I was not from her village and she didn’t want me for her son. She was old and smelled bad and her mouth was always turned down. She gave me her hard voice every day and called me names. There were times when I wanted to push her down. The people hated me too.
And what about him? they say.
Snow was on the ground and he gave me a blanket because I was cold. I was wearing the blanket when he and the other men rode into the village. They had been away in a battle with the men who looked like ghosts. I was glad to see him because his mother did not like to share her food with me and I had started to get hungry again. I saw him on his horse and there was a wound on his thigh. Blood was all over his leg and on the horse, too. I had wood in my arms for a fire for the old woman. I threw the wood down and followed him. He came to lie down in his mother’s dwelling and soon he had a great fever. The healing man came to see him, but he got worse. His old mother cried and made loud noises, but I wasn’t thinking about her. I went out and found some moss hanging from a tree. I cleaned his wound with water and put the moss on top and bound it with a piece of cloth. Every day I made a fire to keep him warm because he had started to shiver. I found some herbs for his fever and made a tea and held it to his mouth. It was bitter but he drank it and it made him sleep. He slept days and nights and days again. I put new moss on his wound and clean cloths that I washed in the river. My mother taught me this. The people gave us food and I think they didn’t hate me anymore.
Are you tired, now? they ask.
No. When I remember him, I do not feel tired. The trees were dropping flowers on the ground when I came to him and his black eyes were looking at me, and he smiled and I knew he was well. It took a long time because the wound was deep and the fever came and went and came again. When he was strong, the people made a ceremony. The trees had turned yellow by that time and I became his wife. The people accepted me then. I think I will rest for a while, now.
Yes, they say. We will wait.
He was tall and had a beautiful face and he stayed with me even when I had no children. You should have another wife and bring our people children, the women of the village said. Too many of the people are dying. But when their children were sick I healed them, so there were more children in the village because they did not die when they became sick, but they did not remember that. Our dwelling was very clean and I kept healing herbs there and beautiful blankets that I made to make the children feel better. And I took care of the old woman till she died. I did that for him. He was a good hunter and we had many days when our stomachs were full and we were laughing and making love and being happy. The people did not know this, because our laughing and loving was soft and stayed in our dwelling. He fought many more battles and had many more wounds, but none like the one on his thigh. I healed him and put medicine on the other men too, but some of them died. I was always glad when he came home from the battles and was not killed. When he was not away, we were always together. When the smoke came, we were together.
Yes, we know about the smoke, they say.
That day it was dark, like it is before a big rain, and we put the horses under the trees, and covered them with blankets and tied them up. We should not have done that because when we smelled the smoke, the horses were too far away and we couldn’t get to them. I could hear them whinnying. After a while, I didn’t hear them anymore. I think they broke loose and ran away. When animals smell smoke, they run. Do I have to remember everything?
No, not everything, they say. Just enough.
Enough for what?
Enough to rest, they say.
We knew they were coming. He and the other men had been talking about them coming for a long time. I heard them talking and I knew they had killed everyone one in my old village. But my mother had been long gone before that and I was glad. That day he came to me and said we have to leave now because the men who look like ghosts are coming and we have to run. I began to pack our things, but they came too fast. We heard the people running and screaming…
Do you want to stop now? they say.
No. I want to tell you what happened. Our horses were gone and we were older than the others and we could not run fast so we stayed in our dwelling. We could hear their horses and their guns knocking the people down. Someone fell outside our flap. And we heard fire crackling and the ghost men screaming their words and we smelled smoke. Nothing good comes from the smell of smoke, I can tell you that.
You can stop now, they say.
No, it’s all right. We sat down together on an old bearskin. He was holding my hand in his two hands and he was looking at me with his black eyes. There was no fear in his eyes. I was all right after that. He had put an eagle feather in his hair. I looked at him and said you are still handsome. And he said that we had lived a good life together. And I said that my happiest time was when we were under the trees and the yellow leaves were falling and it was warm and the people were dancing and we were laughing. And he said yes that was a good day. And I said I am glad you came to get me with five horses.
Is that all? they say.
I looked up and saw fire in the top of our tipi. And the smoke came down. I think you can trust me on this.
Ah yes, they say. That is enough. You can rest now.