The following is πfictionalized.
This is about a teen reuniting with his biological parents, and discovering the challenges of reproducing. (Tag)
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
If it were real, the reunion would have probably occurred on May 15, 1994.
The Moonlight Sonata is full of ups and downs, as is this piece, which takes place under the moonlight.
999 Words FCA
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A Dakota fire hole has two holes in the ground connected by a tunnel. π₯ The fire is in one hole, and smoke filters out the other. This contains the blaze and makes it more difficult to see from a distance.
- The paperwork person referenced was a social worker.
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The American Indian Religious Freedom Act was passed in August 1978. The Indian Child Welfare Act was passed in November 1978. Both of those events are after the first pregnancy in the story.
The Reunion
Though he hasn't seen his parents since he was preschool age, over a decade ago, recognition is instantaneous. The three hug and cry from early to late twilight. Father lights the Dakota fire hole. Mother prepares pine tea. He sits on a large, flat stone on the lush forest floor. It feels familiar, as though he had sat on this spot a thousand times before.
"We come this way each year after the flowers start to bloom. Some years, when summer is too disagreeable, we head to the cabin where you were born," Father says as he checks the fire.
The teen boy has millions of questions. How much time will there be to get answers? He looks from the hidden fire to the moonlight. The Waxing Crescent offers some light in the night sky. He scribbles a question in his notebook.
"Hmm," Father contemplates after reading the question. "We are not concerned with calendars or clocks. Nature cares little for man's time trackers. The moon was brighter than this the night before you were born, though not entirely full. Summer had turned to her hottest days."
"I confess I prayed you would be born to ease my discomfort. Though I also hoped you would wait. An infant that cannot be cooled is difficult to silence."
His mother's remark makes him chuckle, for dysarthria from severely damaged laryngeal muscles has rendered him mute. Hot summer days meant his real birthday probably was in August. The paperwork person might have picked well when she guessed. He writes another question.
Mother tends to the tea brewing on the heated rocks. "Our grandparents were friends. My grandfather brought your father to our family's farm."
"I had traveled with my father's uncle for some time before that. He was the one you encountered last time you searched for us."
The boy smiles. He had been so glad to find an uncle. The elder passed on vast knowledge in the months they spent together.
"My parents hoped I would marry a different boy. Your father encouraged me to marry another."
"I loved her and wanted the easier life that a pale husband could provide."
Mother reaches for Father's hand and kisses it. "Love is not about an easy life. We wed, and soon I was with child."
Father squeezes her hand. "I was joyful and terrified. There was no guarantee the community would protect our child. I knew there was a better chance they would be safe if I left. While praying on it in the woods, I encountered another from our tribe. He told me the pales were harming our women in childbirth, taking motherhood from them. They take and raise the baby without love or guidance. Born as a villain, raised like a slave, then abandoned to harshness and early graves."
"Terror for our family gripped my soul," Mother says as she pulls a fur around her shoulder. "What were we to do? How could we stay safe?"
"There was time, though not much, before winter set in and her stomach would plump. So I learned all that I could. A midwife gave me lessons, books showed me what to watch for, and her mother imparted wisdom. We carried little with us and moved away from the world." Father opens a pouch filled with dried meat. He passes it around before eating some.
"Winter was too cruel. And we did not plan early or well enough. It was around this time, when the flowers first bloom, that our child came too soon and without life."
Mother stares at her jerky. The new leaves rustle with the soft breeze. "It took time, but I still wanted a child. We got better at living in the wilderness."
"I negotiated and traded with certain hunters, fishers, and farmers. I helped one build a cabin in exchange for occasional use."
The boy nodded. He remembered the cabin a bit.
"It was not long after a pumpkin feast that I realized you were inside me." Mother distributes the pine tea. The boy is glad he brought a cup on his journey. "We stayed in the cabin much longer than usual. I was determined that you would live."
"We did all we could to keep you with us. I taught you survival skills from the moment you took your first steps. You learned so fast," Father claps his hands. "You made us proud every day."
Tears roll down the boy's face. He shakes as he writes an apology for wandering off, being taken, and not finding them sooner. His parents embrace him and assure him that the blame is not his. Mother wraps him in her fur as her tears mingle with his.
"We tried to find you. There was very little help," Father stares at the fire.
~~~
Sunlight breaks through the lowest branches before the boy asks his biggest question. His parents frown.
"No, son, your mother and I cannot go with you. Our home is here, among the trees. This is the safest place. You are welcome to stay with us. We have helped many in situations such as ours. This is our path in the world."
The boy explains his medical needs and asks how he could survive without modern care. He writes that laws have changed, that it's safe now.
"Nothing we have can do what you ask. How well you would live, I cannot say. Never trust pales to keep their word regarding your safety. They think death is our only use. Pox blankets may change form, but continue to exist."
He pleads for them to come back with him. To not leave him with strangers for years to come. Mother gives him an address and a note.
"This woman of science lives near the farm our family had. She openly shares knowledge and compassion. The note requests she houses and cares for you. We will return to this spot again. Soon after the flowers bloom each year. Meet us, if you can."

The boy's actual birthday is probably early August. The paperwork person picked August 21 because that was the day she filled out the form and the boy did not give her a different answer.
Feel free to wish the author, me, π a
happy birthday. π Legally, it's this weekend.
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