Dear Fellow Traveler,
Have you ever been asked “What do you wanna be when you grow up” in school? I guess a lot of people have, but I sometimes wonder how many people actually know when their kids. I know I sure didn’t. Infact, whenever someone asked, I’d answer, “I wanna be a bear,” since it seemed boring to say, “I dunno”. Plus, bears are super cool.
As a kid I was always just caught up in everything everyone else was doing. Most of my family worked as farm hands, we made enough to live on, and occasionally do something fun, nothing fancy really. The only time I ever left the reservation was a few times before I was ten, during the summer as my Auntie transported horses for shows or events. I really loved those times, even though living on the arizonian reservation wasn’t awful, I still loved the feeling of travel.
But of course that’s not the safest thing for a little kid, so after an incident, those summer trips stopped. No amount of complaining or begging worked to change my parents' minds, and my life became a little bit more dull.
Weird what you think of when you’re traveling cross country for a month on your own. I never gave my life this much thought till now.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Backstory-
I’m the youngest in my family, even though I’m an only child, I’m the 5th grandchild, so while my relatives tried to baby me, my parents were a bit harder on me. They weren’t unfair, they just never made things too easy for me. I guess that’s why I’ve never really been a procrastinator. Everyone says I’m the most motivated lazy person ever.
I think it’s because of their attitude, I never thought much about what I wanted to do with my life. I’m not the best at a lot of things, aside from manual labor and feeding animals.
I loved camping too, and I missed traveling with my aunt like I did when I was a kid, but when reality keeps smacking you in the face, the clouds aren't where your head is.
By the time highschool rolled around, it felt like my life was on autopilot half the time. I did school work, hung out with friends, and worked on weekends once I was 16. Other kids talked about what they wanted to do, wanted to study, where they wanted to go after highschool, all I could say was I wanted to travel. Half the time I got shot down.
After I graduated it kinda got worse. College wasn’t my thing, even if it mighta gotten me somewhere new, but then I’d just waste money. So it was work, home, laze around on weekends, wash, rinse, repeat.
You get the jist, my life was pretty much extremely normal by my family's standards (Even though I’d prefer being straight up lazy) I was restless as hell and I wanted to get out of there, and be on my own for a while. I wanted to do something on my own, just because I wanted it.
But because I’m “Unmotivated,” my parents nagged me about it. I love them, but I wished they’d stop treating me like a baby.
My grandma, on the other hand, told me it was okay to want to do something like that. She said my spirit was “Stagnant” or whatever, and it needed to break free, so I could see things clearly. Taking an adventure day by day would open new doors for me.
And she was right, but I wasn’t exactly ready for how fast it all happened.
It happened during the summer, a few months away from my 20th birthday.
The day it happened, seemed like any other, so when I stopped by, I didn’t think it was any special. But I still remember it clearly though.
The sky was clear blue, and the air was hot, as always, but I was used to the heat, that was part of the reason I had one side of my head shaved. Being a full blood Navajo (as far as I know), I have thick long black hair, so I basically have a heat magnet growing out of my head.
I remember how I was just humming the tune to “Manic Monday” on the way to my grandma's house before work that day. I was wearing my worn out ripped jeans, and a purple tank top that either covered my belly pudge or my chest, but never both at the same time, as well as a pair of work boots. I was looking very cute that day if I do say so myself.
I remembered looking through my folder on the way. The folder was one I had been putting together for my “Soul Searching Adventure” to convince my parents I could handle being on my own for a while. Planning far ahead wasn’t really my thing, but it was the only way I thought would keep them off my back, or keeping one of my cousins sent after me to drag me home.
“Hey, grammy!” I greeted happily as I came through the door, my grandma was in her rocking chair, weaving something with her long boney fingers. “Hello, little cub,” she smiled at me, “You’re here early.”
I set down my work bag as I sat beside her, “Yea, I have work later, but mom’s on another cleaning spree, so I had a hard time sleeping in.” I told her as I leaned against the wall. “Well, you're free to nap here,” she smiled and reached over to stroke my hair.
My grandma was literally 100 years old, and lost my grandpa before I was born, so I visited her everyday to keep her company. She always joked that I was her favorite “grand cub”, and when she moved on, she’d leave behind something special for me. I always thought it would be her jam recipe.
“Yea, I know.” I smiled, “But before that, I wanted to show you this,” I handed her the folder, “Mom and pop made me put this together.” My grandma took the binder into her shaky old hands, and got her reading glasses, before she started reading.
As she read, I yawned as I sat and waited for her to finish.
I always liked my grandma's house, it was small, since it had originally just been for her and grandpa. It smelled constantly of fresh made raspberry honey jam, and it was a quiet comforting place, so when I needed a nap, it was easiest there. My cousins often teased me for being as lazy as an autumn bear, but I didn’t care. I was hard working when I wanted to be, so I was entitled to naps and lazy time.
My vision started to go foggy, my eyelids heavy, and a deep yawn came up. I looked at my grandma tiredly, and saw something glint in her hand before sleep overtook me.
Skipping past my naptime dream of riding a bear, my alarm to get ready for work woke me up.
When I rubbed my eyes awake, I saw my grandma had gone back to weaving, “What’s that-?” I asked with a yawn as I started to wake up completely, “Oh, you’ll see when I’m done. Just know it might be important.” she said cryptically, she was like that sometimes, so I just nodded.
Since I had already showered and eaten, I had 20 minutes before my ride would be at the corner of the street,”So how’s my plan looking?” I asked after stretching a bit. My grandma smiled,”A bit overly complicated, back in my day, when someone wanted to go on a soul searching journey or a vision quest, we’d just go and do it, without being complicated.” she laughed and I just shook my head smiling.
I packed away the folder while grandma went on and on about how when she was my age, she’d go out and camp by herself at the drop of a hat, and how kids these days needed to be more spontaneous, if they wanted things to be interesting.
“The worlds gotten a lot less safe grandma,” I told her. “You only think that way because your parents tell you that. But like I always say Natania,” she started and I finished, “I have the bear following my tracks. Yea, I know.” I laughed and she pinched my pudgy cheek.
Looking at the clock on my phone, I got up and grabbed my bag,”Oki, I gotta go grammy,” I kissed her cheek,”See you after work, and we can make fried bread!” I was going to be late, so I dashed out the door, seeing her wave goodbye.
I got the call later as work ended.
A week passed by in a huge blur as my parents and aunts and uncles got things ready. They said it was peaceful, and she just slipped away, no heart attack or anything, which was comforting. But I wish I could have stayed with her up until it happened.
I cried a lot, at least until I felt a bit better, while at the same time, I doubted things would really be ok at the time.
Grandma gave me the idea to go on a trip down to the ocean, and live there for a month or so to see if that helped me take the reins and turn off autopilot, and she said she’d back me up no matter what. I wasn’t sure what to think or do at the time though. I said as much at her wake when it was my turn.
My grandma had left me a few things in her will, and my family left those things alone in her house, giving me the time and privacy to look through them myself.
My parents gave me something after the funeral and wake were over. It was a woven and beaded key chain, with two keys hanging from it, one old looking key, and a newer one. The new one went to the house, but my parents weren’t sure about the old one though.
The house felt colder now, but it still smelled like her the moment I walked in.
The furniture was still there, but it was covered with dust sheets, ghosts of memories floated around the house as I walked through it, I remembered all the afternoons I spent with her, it felt like she was still there.
By the time I got to her room, where they had left everything that was for me, I was mentally exhausted, even in the middle of the day, I felt like sleeping.
I just collapsed on her bed with a groan, before staring around the room at the boxes labeled, “For Tani” and looking at the key chain she had been making hours before she passed, I guess she knew her time was almost up. So much for being spontaneous and putting too much thought into something, I thought of tucking my hair back.
Though, I had spent the most time staring at the key since the funeral. I remembered my grandma saying it was something important, so I clung to those keys.The key chain itself was a woven band of beads, with purple and white beads that made the shape of the shaman's eye, with a bear claw hanging next to the old key. She had made it with me in mind, so I wondered what else she left me.
My parents got the house in grandma's will apparently, so I had all the time in the world to do it, but I decided I might as well go through everything, despite already feeling tired as hell.
While I went through the boxes, I found a birthday present for me, which was a new tent and some camping stuff, with a card saying, “Hope this helps when you go on your adventure.” I smiled to myself. We talked about my trip ever since I graduated. The smile didn’t last long though.
There were alotta things that reminded me of her, and a few oddly shaman-like things (my grandpa was a medicine man) but I guessed they were meant for one of my uncles instead.
And then finally, the locked drawer to her wardrobe.
The drawer to her wardrobe had always been locked, so I took a correct guess that the old key went to it. My grandma said she left me something really special, so I was kinda surprised, but not surprised at all when I opened it to find an old bear skin coat.
In my family, bears had always been a big important symbol, grandma always said it was our guardian spirit. The bear protected us when times were bad, and I could always count on it and my tribe. I had been raised on my tribe's beliefs and stories, I didn’t doubt them so much as I also didn’t doubt that the rest of the world was still filled with assholes.
I touched the coat, and felt it’s fur. The inside was trimmed short, but it had a fluffy collar, and despite looking seriously old, the fur was still really soft, it was easy to card my figures through it, like it was still alive. I thought it was just because of how much grandma must have taken care of it. The more I touched it,, the more and more I wanted to put it on, like someone was whispering for me to try it on.. I felt hypnotized by it that I completely forgot an important detail that shoulda been backhand slapping me in the face. I had never seen my grandma wear this coat. Not once, not in any pictures either.
There was a big as life reason for that…
But I didn't realize anything until I slipped my arms through the sleeves of the coat, and it was wrapped around my body, instantly fitting me like a fancy tailor made glove.
And let me tell you, it hurt like hell the first time it happened.
My skin felt like it was on fire and prickly, my teeth hurt like I bit into a rock, and my muscles felt like that time we had to run a mile in gym class. But a lot worse. I’ve been knocked over and thrown by horses or cows before, and this was like all those times, but at ONCE.
I dunno how long it lasted exactly, but I guess it was a few hours, since by the time it stopped, it was already night time. When it stopped hurting, I felt refreshed and energized, like I had taken a cold bath, then drank a few monster drinks. It was like being awake for the first time.
I didn’t have long to enjoy the feeling, or wonder why I had gone through hell for no reason, for hours of blacking out, because when I went to stand up, I somehow hit my head on the ceiling.
That was when I started to look at myself, and started to freak out.
Because I was tall as hell, covered in fur, and had a god damn tail, so when I looked in the mirror, and saw two purple eyes staring back at me, I screamed with a voice that sure as hell wasn’t mine, with a face that DEFinitely wasn’t mine either.
And you can guess how well the moment of freak out went. In werewolf movies, or any movie when someone suddenly transforms into a monster, it’s all dramatic and angsty like, “What the hell did you do to me!?” But I’m pretty sure I had a freak out moment like that scene from Brother Bear. Or when a girl has a spider on her. One of the two.
So yea, that’s when I found at, hey, my grandma was a skinwalker, the whole bear thing was literal, and apparently has been a thing FOR A REALLY LONG TIME in my family, and I apparently, it’s my turn to be the coat bearer or some shit. AND SHE NEVER THOUGHT TO WARN ME.
Also, quick note for narrative sake. For the navajo people, bear skins, wolf skins and especially coyote skins, were a big ass taboo no no for casual use, like say? A COAT!? Except for ceremonial use. Than they were locked up again. I FORGOT THIS, so new door ended up busted open for me, and my adventure started.
But I’ll tell you more of that later, Imma go to bed now.
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