Read Online Wabanaki Blues by Melissa Tantaquidgeon Zobel - Free Book Online

front of the bear and speaks under his breath, as if I’ve embarrassed him in front of her. “This lovely creature spells her name differently than that old-time Hollywood actress. She uses two n’s, and her last name is Awasos. You know the word. It means black bear in Abenaki and Mohegan. Her first name is a recent addition. I chose it to honor our Mohegan chief.”
    â€œI would have asked our chief if she wanted a bear named after her. Besides, shouldn’t you have named this bear after an Abenaki Chief, considering she’s living in their territory?”
    Grumps eyes me curiously, as if I’m an exotic bug. “Don’t you know that animals have their own territories?” He pulls his loose white hair back into a ponytail and wraps it with a red rubber band. “For somebody as special as your relatives up here claim you to be, you sure don’t know much.”
    â€œWhat folks up here would be talking about me? I don’t know a soul in this town.”
    â€œWe can talk about that later. Right now, I’d like to present Marilynn Awasos,” He bows ceremoniously to the bear. “Marilynn is a lineal descendant of The Great Bear, the most ancient and powerful creature in all these woods, in the whole world, in fact. Someday, you might meet The Great Bear yourself. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
    Marilynn’s mitten ears perk up. So do mine. This Great Bear sounds worse than Chenoo and Windigo put together. I hope to avoid it.
    Grumps dumps another bunch of peeled bananas on the back steps. Marilynn blinks her coppery eyes in thanks. Her muscular shoulders roil like a bodybuilder’s, as she pushes the fruit with her paws and dips her broad snout to chomp down the yellow mush. I watch for any sign that this tropical fruit does not agree with her. I’m secretly hoping she might keel over and vomit from an allergic reaction, or run away, disgusted by the taste. Sadly, the fruit seems to go down fine. Once she’s finished, she rolls back her gums and bares her glistening teeth at me again. This time, her snout is twitching and she licks her canines. The shiver that runs through me feels like a minor electrocution. I don’t think Marilynn and I will ever be friends.
    Grumps steps right up and speaks into her mitten ear, “That’s the last of the bananas, Marilynn. It looks like me and City Gal need to make a trip to the general store to pick up more.”
    The bear is eyeing me suspiciously. No matter what he says, this creature doesn’t feel friendly like the other animals in these woods. This bear is dangerous. The combination of my adrenaline rush and Marilynn’s munching and slurping makes my stomach growl.
    â€œGrumps, I’m hungry.”
    We bid Marilynn good-bye and head inside. The sun has risen. I now see the cabin fully for the first time. The bright mismatched glassware on the windowsill looks like somebody spilled a bag of Skittles. The dishes on the wall rack are decorated with woodland animals, like some of the ones on my bracelet. There’s a plate featuring baby bears eating blueberries. Another shows a huge black bear catching a lake trout. I’m sure these are supposed to be cute portraits. But I have trouble thinking of bears as cute.
    I search for a place to sit. The only seats appear to be two straight-backed maple chairs set beside a rough-hewn pine kitchen table and two rockers that face the woodstove. One of the rockers is stained strawberry, the other mustard. I’m guessing the strawberry one belonged to Bilki because Grumps always raved about her strawberry smile, not to mention that mustard suits Grumps’ disposition. I never thought I’d miss Mom’s relic of a navy futon, but I do. At least it has a plush cushion. In contrast to the sparse furniture, there are far too many oil lamps in here. The lamp I most admire sits taller than the rest, on the kitchen