Page 58 of Hummingbird and Kraken

“It makes me happy every time I see it. May…” he broke off with a sigh.

Declan waited, already having a sense of where this was going to go.

“Let me backup.” Ro searched the sky for a minute. “In our culture, shifting is part of the pathway to adulthood. Children, when they are around thirteen or fourteen years old, undergo a ritual to show that they can survive in nature. They train with traditional weapons and they learn the local foods they can harvest, but it’s meant to be a challenge. They are often hungry and cold, lonely or scared.

“But they also grow stronger. They learn to trust themselves. And they learn to listen. They open themselves to the voice of the Earth and the Wind, the Water and the Animals. They learn patience and gratitude. They are shaped to become heart-singers, healers, or strength-sharers, if they are going to. Often, during this week, the Gods grant them another form, one that is strong and clever and suited to the environment in a different way. When I came of age, I was given my bison form. And man, was that grass delicious on an empty stomach.”

Declan giggled. He could totally see Ro relaxing and grazing in the sun.

“Later,” Ro continued, “when an adult is troubled or seeking wisdom, they might go on a vision quest, fasting and meditating to understand their role in the universe and whatever conflict lies within and without. Sometimes then, too, they are granted another form or the ability to share strength, heal, or sing the heart.”

Ro looked off into the distance, speaking with a sort of quiet disappointment. “On my second quest, I was also gifted the form of a coyote and the ability to share strength.”

Declan raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Ro didn’t add anything to the story. Declan would have been overjoyed to shift into a coyote, or really any animal. But that wasn’t the point. Not when someone wanted to become a heart-singer, instead.

May’s happy giggles floated back from the porch, and Declan remembered that she’d been the start of this conversation. “She’s very young, isn’t she?” he finally observed.

“She was removed from her home when she was two. We don’t know what happened before. We’re only glad that the Indian Child Welfare Act required her to be adopted by an Indigenous family, and someone at Children and Family Services recognized what she was and knew where to bring her. But for a child that young to shift…”

“Is that why she’s a house cat?” Declan asked tentatively.

“It must have been the safest form for her environment.”

“She seems happy now. You’re good with her.”

Ro shrugged. “That’s not my work.” But his face fell as he said it. “The heart-singers have been helping her.”

“It seems like you’ve been helping her, too. She trusts you.”

He cheered a little. “My farm was one of the first places where she was willing to play. I would work while she hid under the bushes, and then started to chase butterflies. I was the first person she shifted for.”

“I think you’re more like a heart-singer than you know,” Declan said quietly.

“Do you think we should go back?” Ro asked abruptly. Declan had probably pushed too hard again, but he just wanted Ro to be happy. Not everyone jumped into things like he did.

“Sure, let’s go. I need a picture of my big, bad kraken having a tea party.”

Chapter 18

Geir

Geir looked down at the pair of rocks that were galloping across his leg.

He had no clue what he was doing, but May didn’t seem to notice. He hadn’t spent much time with children before. In so many cultures he’d lived in, children worked or they played among themselves, loosely supervised by whatever older sibling or cousin was around.

The way kids were expected to behave today was different. He didn’t spend any more time around children now than he had before, but he’d noticed the changes when he saw them around. More toys. More pretending. More attention from adults. The whole concept of childhood, really.

May picked up “his” rock, a kind of flat gray egg shape, and put it in a circle with a few more. “That’s Mama Kitty and Me and Aunty Cia and Uncle Ro and Uncle Declan and you.” She looked up at him, eyes serious. “You’re Uncle Geir, right?”

He wasn’t sure if she was confirming his name or his title, but he nodded. He’d become used to being greeted by familial names as a sign of respect, but this seemed much more personal. Like she’d adopted him into her family.

It was sweet. He was starting to get the sense of what Declan liked about her. If Declan wanted to have May come over occasionally, he was pretty sure he could handle it.

As long as Declan didn’t leave him alone for too long.

He looked up, wondering if Ro and Declan were still looking at the garden. He didn’t like it when he couldn’t see them. Only when he looked up, they’d somehow slipped back to the front of the porch. There was a mechanical clicking sound, and Declan was holding up his phone, grinning.

He showed the phone to Ro, who looked at it approvingly. “That’s adorable.”