1
Profound, Sophia liked the word profound. It seemed to have a very intimate connotation. She also liked the word intimate. She didn’t like courageous. This one just seemed to fancy.
She like the outdoors, long walks along the Nashwaak River; Especially with Pebble, her two year old border collie. Pebble loved the river; she often grabbed the stones from the bottom and brought Sophia the nice ones. Hence Pebble, she was meant to be named Connie initially, but Sophia found this too bland, Pebble was much nicer. Also, she loved William Blake’s poetry and the response pebble gave to clod:
“Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite.”[1]
It seemed much more appropriate than the bullshit clod of clay proposed earlier in the poem. Love is selfish and there’s no joy in it. She lost her mother when she was just seven. Sophia still had vivid memories of her, and she did visit her in her dreams. But it wasn’t the same as having her close. Getting the bedtime stories and a warm cup of hot chocolate during those cold winter evenings.
Her mother died fourteen years ago. Her name was Alberta and she was quarter Maliseet, quarter French and half Irish. Sophia’s father Bjorn was full Norwegian, first generation immigrant. That made Sophia… very complex.
She felt the urge to pursue the history of the Maliseet people in her family. She lived around Fredericton her whole life (she graduated from the NEW Brunswick University with a BA in history) felt that she needed to know more. But something prevented her from digging deeper. Some internal force always made her close all the windows opened on her laptop treating about the history of the Wəlastəkwewiyik tribe in the Berg family.
This Monday afternoon seemed like a perfect time to take Pebble for a long walk. It was a nice August afternoon, leaves were still green and hopeful, shortly before autumn destroys their dreams.
She grabbed Pebble favourite snacks (Tilted Barn Candian Becon, Sophia was vegetarian herself but knew the dog needs very well).
‘Pebble, come her dolly!’ The dog did not oblige. She was probably hiding under the sofa in the living room. The house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs with a decent size open plan living room and kitchen on the ground floor. There was a massive L=shaped sofa bed in the middle of the room opposite a fancy, modern fireplace with a massive glass. Above it was an even bigger TV hanging of the wall, slightly tilted. The house stood on the right bank of the Nashwaak River, east of Fredericton.
It was a character building, build in the 1960s. Pebble rarely took the shelter under the living room couch, yet this time she anchored hard.
‘Pebbles, come here.’ Sharp. To the point. Followed by a piercing whistle. Nothing.
Sophia opened the front door which was the ultimate sound. The slight creak of the frame was the last resort. The dog would normally race to meet her at the door; both at arrival and departure. This time there was no sing of her. Finally, after long thirty seconds Pebble decided to show up. Tail down. No sign of excitement, just pure obedience – unconditional reaction. Snacks made her raise the tail ever so slightly.
Sophia put the harness on her, she rarely did, but today she thought that there was no other option. Pebble was scared and so was her master.
They walked along the river for about half an hour before she let Pebble run free. She took a sharp turn and started towards the Marysville Bypass which cut through the forest. Sophia never took that route but she was more than happy with the change of environment. She needed a change. Her life was pretty dull since she graduated. No boyfriend, no job. Dad had a trout farm and was making plenty to support them. Sophia felt the need to achieve something, she felt she was made for bigger things. Fredericton was too small, damn Canada was too small! She was big.
She grabbed the harness, and they crossed the busy road. Suddenly Pebble just went off. She run straight into the forest. It was so surprising that Sophia didn’t even have a chance to think what to do next. She just sprinted after her. She was doing well in cross country skiing, fastest girls at school. But the dog was gaining on her quickly. She went deep into the forest and disappeared. It was very unlike her, but so was her behaviour throughout the day. Sophia whistled repeatedly but to no avail. The snacks wouldn’t help this time either.
She walked for good half a mile and then she heard it. First it was just a sound of a broken twig. But it quickly took a sinister turn. There was a sound of multiple twigs and branches breaking repeatedly. Closer, faster. Something heavy was approaching. She ducted under a fallen tree trunk looking nervously around. The birds went silent. There was no sound, but the air seemed heavy and electrified as if just before a massive thunderstorm. She looked up one of the massive trees above her. There was some quiet static creaking coming from there.
At first, she couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at. It looked like one of those sphinx cats. The ‘inside out’ cat as Joey from Friends aptly described it. It was turning around its own axis, hanging from one of the branches above. There was no string attached. No pun intended. Sophia’s thoughts were racing trying to figure out what she was looking at. The animal was suspended on a lightning like strand of pure, bright, blue energy. It was too small to be a cat. Finally, she clocked it. It was a squirrel! A skinned squirrel! The blood was slowly dripping from the poor animal, and the carcass kept on revolving as in some wicked, ritualistic dance.
Suddenly a shadow appeared lurking from around the tree trunk, it could have been a lynx. It was a lynx girl! Wake up, it was a damn lynx!
The squirrel disappeared. The wild cat must have devoured it. There was no sign of it left. Sophia could almost swear that it was all a figment of her imagination. Almost, only if it wasn’t for the bloodied ginger fur that was lying by her feet. A small reminder that she was not alone.
Sophia screamed at the fur lying between her feet. She run. She run like Pebble. About five minutes into the sprint, she tripped. She was actually surprised she managed to run so far without losing her breath. Her secret cigarette addiction hasn’t caught up with her yet. But she only been smoking for three years.
The sudden sight of Pebble on the ground send shivers down her spine. She was lying on the ground with a massive blood shower coming down her chin.
Sophia run, she got to her and… it wasn’t blood. It was a red, old fabric. Pebble seemed dead.
Sophia screamed at the top of her lungs and that’s when the dog slowly opened one of her sleepy eyes.
She pulled at the fabric which was accompanied by a silent grunt coming from the muzzle.
It was a Maliseet hood with glass beads. She saw one at the museum before. She pulled harder and unearthed the whole thing. It left a hole in the ground. There was something shining through the dirt. She bent over and managed to dig out a Morgan Dollar sized coin. It had a knight on a horse spearing a serpent. The obverse had a vailed head of a noble woman. She definitely needed to do some research on the subject. Suddenly she heard the braking of the twigs again. Sophia rose up, grabbed sleepy Pebles by the harness and hooked the leash onto it. Best to move now, quick. The dog was of the same opinion now suddenly acting livelier. They run back to the house, Pebble led the way.
2
It was around 10:00pm and she was still sitting at the laptop in her room. Sophia has already found out that the coin was a British Victoria Crown, bearing the head of the queen and St. George slaying the dragon on the reverse. The hood was a traditional craft of the Maliseet people. Their crafting slowly declined in the 19th century, but this one was probably late 1800’s as the date on the coin was 1888.
‘Honey, not too late for the anthropological research?’ She didn’t hear her father entering the room.
‘Just few more minutes Mr. Berg, please…’ her tone, childlike as always, when joking with her dad. Bjorn chuckled, turned her chair around and kiss her on the forehead. His breath smelled of Canadian club with a hint of ginger beer. It was a soothing smell. Her father never was an alcoholic, but since her mother died, a glass or two of whiskey was his bedtime ritual. She didn’t mind at all.
He disappeared as quietly as he arrived. She heard the refrigerator door closing, another couple of ice cubes where about to melt in the amber liquid.
Suddenly the image of the skinned squirrel crossed her mind. She got up from her chair so quickly her glass of water fell of the desk. Sophia managed to grab it inches above the floor. Years of Hapkido training finally paid off, her reflexes where sharp, Master Ki would have been proud. She shook her head to get rid of the bloodied, revolving carcass. Best to take a shower, wash away the day. Wash away the day, what her mum used to say before she died in that accident. The drunk driver didn’t even go to jail. Well, he was from the wealthy family, heritage of mill owners. The Warrens. Suddenly her phone rang. it could only be one person at this time.
‘Hi Ginger.’
‘Sooophiiia! How are you girl?’ Ginger had this manner of pronouncing her name, as a part of greeting. She sounded like a drunk sports commentator, and Sophia could bet her newly found British Crown coin she was actually drunk.
‘Good, and… Do you know what, I’m not good. I went for a walk with Pebble she run away and the squirrel was turning around like some wicked dervish and then I found Pebble she looked dead but then I found the hood and the coin…’
‘Wow, wow. Slow the fuck down!’ Ginger was a lady all right. ‘What squirrel, what hood? Is Pebble all right?’
Sophia told her best friend everything. She could. She knew she won’t be judged or laughed at. Ginger has been her best friend since she remembered, and nothing could change that. At least she hoped so.
‘Fucking Wendigo my girl! I’m telling ya, the forest spirit must have grabbed the squirrel and that’s what you probably heard!’ Sophia smirked at the thought of meeting the forest spirit, but deep down she had to admit the thought has crossed her mind at some stage.
Ginger came for the Maliseet tribe as well, but she was much more connected. Her grandad was a chief and still alive well into his 90’s. Ginger was few years older than Sophia and much more spiritual.
They agreed to meet at the library tomorrow around 10am, grabbing a coffee before.
Sophia decided it was definitely time for a shower now. Long and hot. Wash away the day.
She spent good fifteen minutes under the hot stream of water. Once she got out of the cabin the mirror in the upstairs bathroom was all fogged up. With a little exception. There was a writing across, from the bottom left corner to the top right:
Justice
The shaky letters made her dizzy, she tried to let out a scream, but fainted before she could.
[1] William Blake, ‘ The Clod and the Pebble’ Songs of Innocence and of Experience.
Horror 