Centuries of June Read Online Free Page A

returned. But when the branches parted, she shrieked at the figure approaching out of the greenness, as if emerging from her dreams into the bright northern day.
    “Cover yourself,” she called to her sister, and they dipped in unison until the water rose to their waists.
    The man strode to the edge and showed his empty hands in greeting. He paused to consider them, as if he could not find his tongue or was perhaps fearful that speech might break the spell. The sisters watched him watching them, and he was a fine, handsome man. Youngand naked to the waist as they were, his skin darkened by the sun, and his features carved like a totem. He did not seem of this world, not Tlingit at all, nor of any tribe they had encountered in their travels or those from inland who had chanced upon Hoonah. S’ee looked into his eyes and, for the first time, felt her heart betray her mind.
    “Don’t be afraid, sisters. I heard laughter and splashing in the water and only came to see what fun I was missing.”
    Shax’saani scolded him. “You’ve seen what there is to see, now go. On your way. We are not your sisters.”
    “Aren’t we all children of the earth? How is it that you bathe so early in the day?”
    Before she could be stopped, S’ee trumpeted her explanation. “My feet were dirty, and you know why? Stupid bear doesn’t know to leave the trail to take a dump.” She stood, water dripping from her body, and held out her foot so the man could better see where she had stepped.
    “A clean foot now, and beautiful. What is your name?”
    “I am called S’ee.”
    “Come with me, little doll, for there is something I want to show you about that bear.”
    Her sister’s hand grabbed her arm, holding her back, but the man on the shore kept talking in the honey voice, and she was sorely tempted.
    “You can both join me. There’s nothing to fear. I’m as harmless as a marmot.”
    “I wouldn’t go with you if you were a marmot talking to us. Shoo. Go away.”
    “I’ll turn my back and you can put on your clothes. It’s just that I heard you before, shouting insults at the bear, and there is something you should know.”
    S’ee wrenched free from Shax’saani. “I want to go. Nothing everhappens to me.” Drawing near, she whispered into her older sister’s ear, “Besides, have you ever seen such a man before?”
    “A man is a man is a man. Don’t go, Dolly. What will I do without you?”
    “He has cast a spell—”
    “I will not let you go. I will send the Tlingit men after you.”
    “No need to send out the search party, for I will be back by nightfall. Aren’t you the least bit curious about the world?”
    They turned to the man, who stood with his back to them, as promised. He pawed the ground with one foot as if to keep his eyes from wandering back to the women. S’ee waded over and slipped into her clothes in one swift motion, the wetness of her skin already spreading patches where her body curved. From the cover of the stream, her sister watched, dumb and helpless, as S’ee climbed ashore and went to the man’s side, touching his arm to alert him to her presence. Glancing back once, she followed him into the brush, and when the leaves ceased moving, Shax’saani muttered a prayer that she might one day see her sister again. As she dressed and gathered their baskets, she heard Curly Tail and Chewing Ribs return from the opposite direction. The dogs worried the spot where the man had stood, noses mad at the scent, whimpering softly to each other.
    W ith the point of an elbow, the old man caught my attention through my ribs. “Do you know,” he whispered, “the single biggest regret of old age?”
    I glared at him, encouraging silence.
    “It’s nothing to do with making more money or taking better care of the old body, nothing like that. The old folk say their biggest regret is not having taken more risks. Can you beat that?”
    “Will you let her tell her story?”
    “That girl wasn’t the least bit