Year of the Hunter

Sixty-one-year-old Piper's hair was heavily streaked with gray, which made her pistachio-green eyes stand out more. She had lived in a tiny Alaskan village northeast of Anchorage her entire life. It was remote and accessible only by snowmobile or plane (weather permitting) in the winter. Most residents were subsistence hunters, supplementing with salmon and wildfowl; gardens were abundant with the long days of summer, producing enormous cabbage, lovely potatoes, bean crops, and a wide variety of berries. Some still worked the Alaska Pipeline on a rotating schedule: one week on and one off of the North Slope. Others, like Piper's father, were employed by the Alaska Railroad.

In early August 2029, a hitchhiker arrived in their village inside the lungs of an Arizona hunter. The asymptomatic hunter stayed in a seven-room inn run by Piper's aunt next to the tavern her grandparents, Maralee and Buster, owned. Shopping, eating, and visiting folk throughout the village, he unknowingly infected everyone.

After a successful hunt, he flew home with his moose meat on dry ice. The bush pilot who flew the hunter in and out died alone in his remote cabin. Traveling medics took samples from his corpse before the burial, and Anchorage laboratories confirmed he had succumbed to the introduced virus. The following summer, news came that a new disease had spread, killing millions worldwide. Forty of the fifty-seven residents had already succumbed to it, including Piper's entire family.

Pinga, a young woman of mixed Athabascan and Assiniboine heritage, took one-month-old Piper from the virus-ridden town to an encampment ten miles away until the government said it was safe to return. As the best friend of Piper's mother, she had promised her dying friend that she would help raise the baby and was the only parent Piper had known. Now eighty-one years old, Pinga had taken to her bed. Soft but deeply wrinkled hands smoothed the comforter at her neckline, and her still raven hair framed her face like a thundercloud.

She spoke to Piper as she was handed a steaming mug of black coffee. "I had a vision yesterday. It showed me babies and toddlers playing. The village was having a salmon bake and festivities. It's time we reinstate the Artemis ceremony for this summer solstice. You must reinstate it."

"But why me? Why not you, Mama?"

"I will pass on at the Fall equinox. I can feel the veil closing. I am preparing myself to cross over. Do you remember the ceremony?" Piper nodded, wiping away her tears.

"Don't cry. It's time for me to go to the spirit world. I've taught you all that I know. The young women must be blessed so that their fertility will return. My vision shows me it's time."

**

Salome, Piper's granddaughter, was due to give birth to her first child in August. "He will be a strong-headed Leo, this baby that makes you waddle." Salome sipped her raspberry leaf tea, which her grandmother grew in a small greenhouse.

"Grandmother, I am afraid. All the babies…wait, you said 'he'."

"Shhh, my sweet," Piper put her hand over Salome's. "It will be fine, I promise. I have a plan. And, yes, you are having a son. Pinga told me." Salome glanced over and smiled at her adopted great-grandmother.

Piper announced the town's upcoming Summer Solstice celebration, spiking more excitement than the spring ice break-up. Beads and carved masks were hung, and food preparations began. There would be a traditional blanket toss, athletic competitions, and a drum circle.

When Solstice arrived, the sky was sunny and the weather comfortable. Salmon was prepared for a traditional salmon bake, and the fragrance of other dishes cooking permeated the air. Salome waddled outside, hands on her lower back, smiling at the town's tranquility. "Grandma, everyone looks so happy! It gives me hope." Piper put her hands on the young woman's belly, feeling the baby inside kicking.

"Come, time to get ready for the ritual. It has not been done since I was a child. We are giving all the sadness the virus brought the royal boot. In the past, the Artemis ritual was done yearly during the summer solstice, and I'm reinstating it. Before you were born, pregnant women were blessed on each of the solstices and equinoxes: winter, spring, summer, and fall."

On their walk through the trees, Piper and Lark, Salome's mother, noticed a raven shadowing them high above, silently watching Salome. Salome could hear gurgling water; the closer they got, the more steamy the air felt. Her face broke into a broad grin as they entered a small clearing ending at a bubbling mineral pool.

"What is this? How come I have never been here?"

"Our elders have guarded this place closely so tourists wouldn't discover and ruin it. Come." She took the girl's hand and led her to the edge, where they dipped their toes into warm, silky water." Minerals for you and the baby. Magnesium, calcium, iron, zinc, copper. It feels silky from the magnesium. Take your clothes off; we will soak for fifteen minutes, no more. Don't be shy. The men have been instructed to protect the area. It is just you, your mother, and I, child! No one is looking."

Undressed, the women slid into the warm rock-filled pool and soaked up to their necks. Then Piper lit a sage smudge stick, circling the smoke over Salome, and blew some into her face with a feather. She dressed and combed her granddaughter's silky sable hair while Lark chanted a song next to them.

Arriving back in town, they watched the men compete in Alaskan Native games of dodgeball, sit-down tug-of-war, and broad jump hop.

Piper timed the Artemis ceremony for midnight. On this longest day in the far north, the sun didn't set, and dusk wasn't noticeable. The men formed a square five feet behind the women's circle, which encircled Salome, who lay on a quilt of white blooms on a purple background. Palo Santo wood burned at her feet, and Lark sat her head. Each woman came forward with a bead and a crystal, partnered with a man who smudged their gift with sage.

Piper spoke to Salome. "With these beads and crystals, you will count the days to the birth. While waiting, it is customary for you to create a charm of protection for your house and family.

This is the talisman my mother made for her pregnancy with me. Place it in the northern direction of your home tomorrow. The one you create will be placed in your home's southern direction after your baby is born."

Piper handed a lace-like flower bloom to her son-in-law, Brian. He placed the bloom and a clear quartz crystal on Salome's chest while Lark laid her hand on her daughter's head. Piper touched the burning sage stick in the four directions, chanting health, strength, wisdom, and protection. She assisted Salome to a standing position and placed the talisman staff in her hand.

"This birth will bless our town, and from now on, babies will be born alive and healthy with strong immune systems. I pronounce our sadness ended. Our summer Solstice ritual will annually renew our faith in spirit and our abundance with the ritual and salmon bake."

**

Four babies were born in August, one for each of the four directions. Salome's son, Hugh, was born first. Twins Anika and Rosemarie were born full-term to another family, and Oliver was born to one of the Railroad workers.

Copyright © 6/30/2024 by Andrea O. Corwin

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