THE TRAIL WAS wet on the way back to the mountains. The spring rain refreshed the air and helped to bring color back to the hills.
Enyeto and Siwili enjoyed running behind the girls and pulling their hair or running ahead and jumping out behind trees as the girls passed by to startle them. Elsu was quickly growing tired of their antics and told them so.
“You act like little children,” he scolded them.
“And you act like an old man,” Enyeto laughed at Elsu.
The girls appreciated Elsu defending them and started walking with him the rest of the journey, hoping that Enyeto and Siwili would get discouraged if Elsu was with them. He talked about things that were way beyond his years and thoroughly bored Angie. Kimana, Chocheta and Leotie seemed to hang on his every word, which irritated Angie. She rolled her eyes and daydreamed about reaching their summer home, which succeeded in blocking out his voice.
The more Angie ignored him, the more Elsu tried to get her attention. Being only 12 years old, boys were more of a bother than anything else as far as Angie was concerned, and she couldn’t imagine them ever being anything more.
The villagers were happy to see their homeland again. The river had changed course a little with the winter runoff, and left less ground to set up their teepees, but the area was still ample for the tribe. Halona found a spot not too far from her old location and set up camp. No one seemed to be possessive of one spot or another. The ground offered many favorable areas and before evening, campfires were lit, teepees set in place, and meals were being prepared. The new harvest needed to be planted within the next few days before the ground became too hard. An early night of rest was required in order to accomplish the task ahead of them.
Angie found that being back at the old camp, old feelings came with it. She remembered the last time she slept here, her yarn was next to her. The memories of the colored string came flooding back and her heart began to yearn for her blanket again. How long must she wait, what must she do? She had no idea. She grabbed a nearby fur and wrapped her arm around it, pretending it was her crocheted blanket. That old feeling of comfort returned to her.
Someday, it will be the real thing, she told herself. Someday it will be my blanket, all crocheted and whole again, filled with blessings and keeping me warm.