Walking in Two Worlds by Wab Kinew

Walking in Two Worlds by Wab Kinew

Author:Wab Kinew [Kinew, Wab]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780735269019
Google: LA4PEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B08QMYDB25
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2021-09-13T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 31

Bugz stared into the flames. The fire inhaled and exhaled momentarily with the wind. She thought of the time before the big bang. After a few breaths, she heard the muffled voice of her father praying in the Anishinaabe language inside the lodge. Bugz imagined herself inside the sweat with the others. She pictured the translucent red glow tracing the forms of the rocks in the pit and could practically feel the heat and the beads of sweat running down her face. With all of her heart Bugz wished she could be inside. She slouched lower into her chair until she was barely peeking above the top of her blanket, the rest of her immersed in the universe-like expanse of that old star quilt. After Bugz shifted in the blanket again, she could hear others taking their turns to pray. When they broke up the prayers with traditional songs, she hummed along. She knew every word, every melody. She knew them better than most of the men in the ceremony. Yet they were never asked to miss a sweat.

Bugz knew the ceremony wouldn’t finish for a long time. Four rounds in total, yet the first had only just begun. Bugz thought of the feast to come after the sweat. All the participants brought food. She knew her parents assumed she would prepare it. Leave the food outside with Bugz and she will get the feast ready. They always expected women to take care of the preparations. Perhaps that’s why some women always sat outside. Free labor. She thought for a second about cutting up the fruit and fry bread. Instead, she pulled out her phone and slouched even lower into her chair.

As Bugz peered through the glowing rectangle into the Floraverse, a growing realization of the silence inside the lodge crept up on her. She could hear no one praying. No one sang either. Something odd was unfolding inside the sweat. She put her phone down for a second and tried to eavesdrop. Nothing. She held her breath and focused harder. Finally, Bugz heard a whimper. It sounded like an animal, the sound of a young man trying to stifle his tears.

Feng. His turn to pray must’ve come, and now he couldn’t respond. She’d seen this type of thing before. Somebody with emotions bottled up deep inside froze as they all came rushing forward inside the ceremony. This is why she was so upset at her exclusion from the Sweat Lodge—it had an undeniable power to it. She yearned so badly to be inside. Bugz resolved that when she grew older and took charge of running the ceremony, she would separate the superstition from the tradition, parsing the purity of the practice from the mistakes of the practitioners. If she ever grew to take charge of the ceremony, that is. Maybe her period would never end and she’d never get to sweat again.

The crying in the lodge grew louder. Bugz tried to imagine what might be making Feng cry: leaving his home behind; the racism at school; his parents.



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