Seeing Elk Woman down on the river reminded him of his mother. Of watching his mother in her black shroud as she paddled the boat onto the icy river so she could be in the exact spot where his father’s car had gone down. Searching for any messages in the water that might have surfaced. His final thoughts scrolled across the brown water where the ice had broken away. Information about his murderers and who the family could trust. And most importantly, if there was money hidden that she needed to know about.
“Get into the boat, Mikhail.”
“No. I don’t want to go near that water.”
“You mustn’t be afraid. There’s much more to learn than being able to understand a person’s sleep-talk. That’s only the beginning. Let me teach you how to find the dead-talk.”
“I don’t want to learn it. I don’t want you to teach me any more of that stuff.”
He knew that she wouldn’t argue with him about it. Nor did she feel hurt. She knew her son needed to take his time going over things. His father was also wired that way. Obsessed with details. Hammering at them to see if they could be broken into smaller pieces.
She’d paid a man to haul the rowboat in his truck, the one Mikhail and his father used for lake fishing. When he was a child and his father was happy and hadn’t started having the severe anxiety attacks that his mother treated with a special tea from the old days. He’d hated to see the boat go out on the dirty river. Was afraid that it would be lost with his father. He’d only wanted it to continue leaning against the back of the house. Taking it away was like taking the best memory of his father away.
But he had, in the end, learned the dead-talk. He still heard his mother’s voice every day.