Minuk: Ashes in the Pathway

Sickness

Their camp is so deep in the snow that they can’t see the house, just the cache standing tall on its four legs. Taulan and Iraluq take the wooden shovels and throw themselves into clearing the snow from the front of the house. They bring most of the bundles from the sled into the house and store the rest in the cache. Grandma lights moss in the stone lamp and they’re at camp once again. It’s always good to get back to camp and be just by themselves. Even Father seems happy as they sit by the fire roasting their dinner.

But that night, Mamma begins to cough. She calls Minuk to bring her water. She says she hurts all over. Of course, they had been on the trail a long time, and perhaps she aches from walking deep in the snow. A cough is an ordinary thing.

But Mamma isn’t better by morning. And even though Grandma covers her with a big blanket, Mamma still says she is cold. Grandpa makes a fire in the house, but Mamma’s cough has become tight and painful and her face is red with fever. Before long, she doesn’t know anybody, and she cries out and talks wildly in her sleep.

Grandpa had wanted Minuk to work with Miss Danfort so she would learn things to help other people. But Minuk has only learned that nothing can be done about this illness. She sits by Grandpa’s side on the bench and holds his hand.

Mamma thrashes around so wildly that she’s in danger falling off the bench, so they move her in caribou robes to the floor. They do everything they can to make her comfortable. She dies, with her hair all tangled and matted with sweat.

Grandpa goes outside to look for boards to make a grave box for Mamma. Iraluq begins to weep. Maklak, like Minuk, is stony still.

The next day, Grandpa gets sick. And then Iraluq and Auntie Naya. They lay on the ground and cry out for more water. They cough and choke, and when Minuk thumps their chests with two fingers, she hears nothing. But when she puts her ear down, she can hear the crackling noise of ragged breathing.

Auntie Naya dies in a few days, but Grandpa and Iraluq live longer. They see such terrible things in their sleep, and they cry out in horror. Minuk’s glad when they fall silent.

Taulan pulls them out of the house by the feet, and puts their bodies under the sled rack. Then, Auntie Nanagak and Auntie Kakgar begin to cough, and then Maklak begins. One by one, the others get sick and die. Grandma, Father, and all the aunties, and then Taulan as well. Only Uncle Aparuk, Maklak, Panruk, and Minuk are still alive.

And then, Uncle Aparuk gets sick. He’s so noisy and talkative in his fever that they hardly recognize him. He laughs and stares wildly at the wall, and tells them one story after another from his childhood. Why couldn’t he have talked like this before? Uncle Aparuk and Maklak are so thin that their skin seems shriveled on their faces and arms. Minuk and Panruk go from one to the other, spooning fish broth down their throats, trying to keep them warm, keep water down, and wiping their faces when they run with sweat.

Then, Panruk gets sick, and Minuk takes care of her, too. She’s almost better when Minuk starts to cough and feels pain in her bones that seem impossible to bear. No one in their family told him how bad it hurt. Her skin aches, and now Minuk knows why they died so quickly. It was because they hurt so badly that they wanted to die.

When Minuk comes to, Maklak is taking care of her. He has gotten better. The house is quiet except for the crackle of wood in the fire pit. Who was cooking? Minuk lifts herself up to look around the room. There is Uncle Aparuk on a bench by the door. When Minuk asks where Panruk is, Maklak doesn’t look at her or say anything.

It’s impossible to believe that that room is so quiet. There’s no singing or talking or working, no stories, no sounds of sewing or cooking or carving or eating. No sounds of illness or fever. Just the popping of the fire.

Minuk asks if it is just him, her, and Uncle Aparuk left? Maklak says that Uncle Aparuk is dead. Maklak just couldn’t move him out of the house.

Maklak is weak and Minuk is exhausted, but they must move his body anyway. It is their belief that dead cannot stay inside the house with the living. Together, they pull Uncle Aparuk’s body out and under the sled rack with the others. They cover them all with the seal skin tarp.

Minuk tries to remember their faces, but she can see nothing, just the mound under the sled rack. She can’t even build grave boxes for them, and she can’t flex their knees and put them in the proper position. She doesn’t know what will happen to their spirits or name souls, but she’s too tired to think of what she has to do.

When they get back in the house, Minuk sleeps for a long time, maybe days. She wakes only when Maklak makes her drink water and spoons fish broth into her mouth. He wipes Minuk’s face the way he saw Panruk and her do for the others.

One morning, Minuk wakes and feels stronger. Her eyes are clear and she can see across the room. Maklak is by her bench, sleeping on the floor, his body rolled into a ball the way he slept when he was a baby. He had brought both dogs into the house, and they look at Minuk and thump their tails when she sits up. Grandma’s lamp burns on her bench, and clothes and tools are scattered. The pot Maklak was cooking in is crusted with grease.

Just then, Maklak sits up and begs her to stay awake. Nodding her head, Minuk says she will stay awake. She’s better. Maklak says he brought the dogs in to keep him company. It was too lonesome. Minuk compliments her little brother for taking such good care of her. But the praise doesn’t make him look proud.

Maklak gets up to get Minuk bite to eat. He brings over dried fish he cut into little pieces and puts seal oil on it. Then, he goes outside with a wooden bucket and brings it back with snow to fill the kettle. Minuk’s legs are not too shaky as she squats by the fire to blow on it to make the flames brighter. But blowing is hard.

Maklak has brought in a pile of wood to keep the fire going. She looks at him with gratitude. They all thought he was just a baby, but he kept the fire going to make broth, he chopped the fish, he brought seal oil from the cache, and he kept the lamp burning. And he’s barely five years old.

Even though she’s tired, Minuk finishes cleaning up. She washes herself and even her hair. Every day, Minuk grows stronger. She cleans the house and folds the clothing. She scrubs the pot with sand and puts away Grandma’s sewing. But the whole time, her throat aches as she thinks about her family under the sled rack. It is her responsibility to see that things are done correctly.

Minuk tells her brother that they must go to Mellgar’s camp to get help with the grave boxes as soon as she is strong enough. The thought of Mellgar makes Maklak feel better.

When the day comes that Minuk is well enough, they put on their heaviest winter clothes and put the harnesses on the dogs. They put enough food for two days in a bag in case they get lost and Minuk grabs some blackfish for the dogs. Minuk puts Maklak in the sled so he doesn’t have to run alongside her.

They drive away with their eyes straight ahead, not turning to look at the mound under the sled rack. But at the last minute, they both turn to look as if they cannot help it. And just then, Minuk sees her family. Grandma is waving in front of the ena. Maklak is little, peeking out of Mamma’s parka. Mamma and the aunties have their arms around each other. The boys laugh and shove each other. Father and Uncle Aparuk are quiet, smoking their pipes, watching, and Grandpa has a kind look on his face. And Panruk is in the front, smiling goodbye.

Minuk feels a stab of pain and she puts her foot on the brake to stop the sled. She bends over the handlebars, unable to move for a minute. Maklak keeps his eyes straight ahead and shakes the sled with an impatient jerk. It’s time to keep going.

They travel all day over the trail that was blown free of deep snow. It’s easy going, but it’s very cold. The dogs have no trouble pulling the sled because they had been fed by Maklak while everyone was sick. But Minuk tires so easily that she has to stop them often.

Late in the evening, when the full moon is high overhead, they reach Mellgar’s camp. There is no smoke coming from the house and no people moving about. Minuk knows what she’ll see. When she peeks her head inside the house, she can see them all lying dead on the benches and by the floor. By the door is Mellgar’s body. His auntie’s body is with him.

Minuk climbs on top of the house and knocks in the poles that hold the roof the way the elders told her they had done long ago during the smallpox epidemic. The sod around the poles and the grass and snow falls on top of the people in the house while tears run down Minuk’s face and freeze her eyelashes.

Maklak is sorry his friend Mellgar is gone, so he stays in the sled with his head down and doesn’t watch Minuk. Minuk knows they must go back to camp and bury their family, too. There’s no one to help with the grave boxes. But Maklak says he doesn’t want to go back to camp. He wants to go home.

They spend their night in the cache, and by morning, the cold weather has broken. They feed the dogs and take some fish from the cache, and proceed to go back towards their village. But by afternoon it begins to snow again. The wet snow makes overflow on the creeks, so they have to be careful not to get wet or they’ll freeze their feet. They take their time crossing creeks and lakes and don’t take chances. Minuk walks in front of the dogs to break the trail because the snow is so deep.

At night, Minuk makes the snow house the way Grandpa showed them, and they put Grandma’s oil lamp inside so they’re as warm as they can be. They only travel part of the day because they don’t really want to go back to the village. They don’t really want to begin a life in their house without their family, and they don’t want to see the men’s house without Grandpa, their father, Uncle Aparuk, Iralaq, Taulan, and Mellgar. While they struggle through the deep snow, they don’t have to think about the things that happened and they don’t have to look at all the ways their lives would be different.