Naming

 1

Naming

“Grizz! Wake up! It’s time to go!”

Grizzly Baby could hear her mother calling from inside the longhouse, and laughed out loud. She had already been up for hours. She awoke before the dawn, and waded down to the clear, cold salt water. She bathed, and said a little prayer to her long line of ancestors, naming each in the line until she got back to the beginning of the Saltwater People. She dressed, and gathered some nearby camas bulbs, devil’s club buds, fiddleheads, and a few gumboots from the base of the seaweed covered rocks. She thanked them all for the sustenance they would provide, and promised each one that their spirit would grow and flourish once it joined her own. It was not until she had prepared everything for the coming day, or perhaps days, that she heard her family begin to shuffle out of bed. 

She whistled a loud, high pitched hummingbird call in response to her mother’s summons. Her mother gave a high “yew-uup” of celebration in response. There was a first time for everything, and Grizz awaking before her mother was a first. Slow to wake, and quick to anger in the mornings, Grizzly Baby had certainly fit her childhood nickname, her mother thought. Today was a new day, and this was a good sign that it was the proper time for a new name.

When Grizz got back to her family’s chambers within the longhouse, the only sounds that could be heard were those of activity. Getting dressed, preparing breakfast, the little ones running up and down from the children’s loft. She found that her younger brother Pup had brought her things down from the loft, but when she made to mention it, he shook his head and gave her a hard, tight-lipped look as if to say, “Say nothing, just in case the wrong Spirit is listening.”

Her parents barely acknowledged the day. Everyone knew it was bad luck to wish someone good luck. It was best to act like it was just another day. Don't draw attention. If you drew too much attention, if you seemed too prideful, the Spirits would certainly cut you down to size just to teach you a lesson. 

For her part, Grizzly Baby was overjoyed to be on her way. She hated her childhood name. "Grizzly Baby, " It sounded like she was a stinky, violent monster. It made her seem unreasonable and dangerous, angry and loud. Okay, she was loud. She would look at the quiet kids and think, "What are you waiting for? If you don't tell the world what you want, and what you expect, then you will never get it. You will be stuck with whatever they deem you worthy of. Better to make demands that come up short than to quietly hope and get only the dregs."

And, yes, she was angry, but not by default. She only got angry when people did stupid things that impacted others, or when they did very clever, but unkind things. Or when she was tired, or hungry, or disappointed. Okay, she got angry quite a bit, but she never used it like a cudgel. She never chose to ruin someone else’s day simply because she was angry. Her anger was like a forge burning brightly within her, obliterating the impurities and distractions, and leaving only a steely resolve, and a laser-like focus.

But things were going to be different. She was an adult starting today. She would get a real name from the spirits themselves. A few days camping, fishing, and living in solitude, free from the judgemental eyes of the town. The Saltwater People were generally welcoming, and typically generous, but the town, big as it was, was not quite so large that you didn't know every soul in town, their entire family and genealogy, and every foible of their history. 

This was why the spirits gave people new names at adulthood. Everyone could enjoy the stories from childhood, but those became divorced from one's adult identity. Grizzly Baby could become a figure of folk lore, and she herself would no longer be burdened by those tales. A new name made you a new person. She was excited to learn her true name. She really hoped it would be something good. Her father had been given his name by a duck. The duck was an incarnation of Thunder, but it was still a duck. She would rather be named by the mightiest incarnation of a lesser spirit than the least incarnation of the mightiest. It was generally agreed that her mother had given up, and faked her naming. If the name was too good, it didn't matter if it was truly given by the spirits or not, everyone would suspect you had chosen it yourself. 

Timeless Beauty was a wonderful mother, and kind and generous. She was wise and forward thinking, and a perfect pairing for the strong, quiet tactician that was her father, Low Rumble. But, though Low Rumble evoked Thunder, it was appropriately humble. Timeless Beauty by contrast was neither beautiful, nor timeless. Grizzly Baby had only known her mother as an old woman. Her mother couldn't be more than twice her own age, but those years had seen many miles and many tears. If she had been beautiful once, Grizzly Baby had never heard anyone call her mother a beauty in anything but name. 

Most people in town called her mother Sunset. She returned with her name just a few hours after setting out. The sun had just begun to set when Timeless Beauty danced back into town, drunk with  excitement to share her new wonderfully complimentary name. The instant derision her mother faced upon her return snuffed her out like a candle. She was so hurt, and surprised, and overwhelmed that she could hardly speak. She couldn’t bring herself to tell the story of her naming. She stammered, and stuttered, repeating herself, and talking in circles until the entire town was convinced that what they suspected was true. It was all a lie. She never got a name. She never feasted the Spirits. She chose her own name, which was tantamount to rejecting your own ancestors. They called her Sunset behind her back for the first year. After that, they called her Sunset to her face. Only her father and her mother's people called her Timeless Beauty. 

It occurred to Grizzly Baby just then that those years of public shaming may have been what took a toll on her mother. Perhaps she had been a timeless beauty when she received her name, but the calluses from repeated wounds scar the body and spirit. When she got home, she would never allow someone to call her mother Sunset again. 

For herself Grizzly Baby hoped to get a good name that reflected her strength, and intelligence, but she would take anything before facing the embarrassment of being accused of choosing her own name, and the snickering that came as a lifelong reward. 

❖ ❖ ❖

Her father had told her to climb into the hills. 

"Climb up high. Walk uphill with your back to the tide flats. When you get to the top of the ridge, find a low point in the heights, and make camp near a lake, or pond, or stream. The Spirits dwell where there is life. Water is life. Stone is death. Find a damp place with flowing water, plenty of game, and stay until you cannot stay any longer. There are spirits out there who do not have your best interests at heart. Your uncle Curly did not wait long enough."

Grizzly Baby laughed out loud at that. Curly still went by his childhood name. He returned with a name just two days after starting his quest. When he returned he proudly announced that his name was Death Wolf. This name was entirely unsuited for him. Curly was as deadly as a fiddle head fern. He was as lupine as a camas bulb. People couldn't bring themselves to call him Death Wolf. He took a dangerous name from a dangerous spirit, so he was set to dangerous tasks, but that life did not suit him. 

Her father, Low Rumble was a fighter, a strategist, and a man of action. Death Wolf was a storm on the horizon, but a drizzle in town. Death Wolf looked the part of a warrior. He had a gruesome scar crossing his face from top left to bottom right. It had taken one eye, bisected his nose at an unfortunate angle, and left a scar on his lips that left his face in a perpetual frown. 

There was always a legendary war story that accompanied talk of his scars. But Death Wolf was the baby brother, so all her uncles and aunts would tell their own versions of his scar stories. The time he challenged a rival for a woman's love, and the woman stabbed him; the time he thought he could take on a wolf single handedly, but the wolf brought backup; the time he single handedly canoed up river into the mountains to the summer town of the Inside People to defend his honor, but being winter, they were all gone to the shore, and all he found was a not-quite-hibernating bear. All these tales were beautiful and hilarious, and completely embarrassing. But sometimes that was the way when you took the first name the first spirits offered. 

Grizzly Baby was determined. She would not take the first name, nor the last name. She would take the best name she could get, but not force her hand after perhaps the third or fourth offering from the spirits. 

❖ ❖ ❖

She made camp on the shores of Arrow Lake. It had the shape of an arrowhead, and people were fairly direct when making place names. She found a high, flat spot that was perfect for a camp. She set a fire, raised her tent, and laid out her gear in under an hour. She assembled her salmon wheel, and then set out to find a nice weir. 

Hours later, sweaty and tired, she was at a loss. She was a river person. This was a lake. There were no weirs, no flow. The whole purpose of a salmon wheel was to spin in the current, and scoop up salmon and throw them onto the shore. With no current, there was no place to set the wheel. She would have to spearfish, or netfish, like an old man. Her grandfather used nets. Only the old ones used nets or spears, because it would be shameful for them to take more fish than they needed. Once you became old, and your children were grown, using a wheel or a weir for fishing was wasteful. One fish a week was enough for the old. Only young people with families required more. Now, she understood herself, in a way she had not before. She required no more than what was absolutely necessary for her naming. She didn't need a week's worth of fish. Just enough to keep her alive until the spirits decided on her name. 

Grizzly Baby pulled some smoked sockeye out of her pocket. She had found some huckleberries during her exploration of the lake. She wrapped the sockeye, berries, and a few devil club buds from her pack in some cedar bark, and nestled the package in the fire. After a time, she used some sticks to prise her package out from the flames, and unwrap her dinner from the cedar bark. Eating with her hands, she knew it was not the best meal ever cooked, but she was ravenous after the long day. It was good enough to sustain her for a day or more. She counted her blessings, and her rations, and then climbed into her small tent and went to sleep, and dreamed.