I am in love with Loren Campbell. Forget about liking this story or rating it, none of that matters. I wish that I had her life. It's as simple as that. Young, vibrant, strong, knowledgeable, stoic, ambitious. Matched with kind, hard working, spirited, curious, helpful. She is my dream woman. She has her true beauty in
Character
.
So, I hope you enjoy this story, even though it is entirely fictitious. In this fourth chapter, we flash back to some of the stories that Loren heard from her parents, so you may want to know the context of the entire story prior to reading on. A few of the rivers and lakes actually exist, and people travel on them too. Look for me there my lusty friends.
Canoe Soo Ch.4
Charlie Whitefeather was no friend of the Ontario Parks Authority.
He had many heated discussions with my father, who had just taken over as the Superintendent of the Witimaki Provincial Park.
"The tourists that will paddle these waters, are the voices that will keep your beautiful land free and wild," Scott Campbell explained to the Elders, as I watched and listened.
"We have the opportunity to make the rules for the park, and enforce those rules with stiff fines. We can also keep our biologists and naturalists active in monitoring the water quality to keep industrial waste away from the fish hatcheries that thrive throughout these lands. If we invite the average Canadian voter to see this beautiful land from a canoe, they will want to protect it." Dad certainly knew his talking points.
Mom was one of those Biologists that he talked about. She graduated from the University of Guelph which has a great reputation as a school for Environmental Sciences. She met dad while doing post doctoral studies in Montreal, and they found work together in the woods of Northern Ontario.
Mom and Dad met Charlie before I was born, on one of their regular canoe trips deep into the wilderness. Charlie was sitting on a rock, by the river's edge, when their canoe came around a bend. I can still hear mom retelling the story...
*****
"Tânisi," Marie cheerfully greeted the older man in the Cree language.
Charlie sat, open mouthed, unmoving.
"Are you on a pilgrimage?" Marie asked the frozen looking Native man, again in Cree.
The greeting is so similar in all of the area tongues, so the long pause, and still posture was very unnerving to the couple. The people that travel in these woods are always happy to greet any traveler, and they quickly offer strangers food and tobacco.
"We were very quiet, so maybe we surprised him?" Scott suggested from the stern of the canoe.
"You call that quiet?" Charlie asked in perfect English. "I could hear you when you splashed your canoe in the water at the put-in point. I could smell your aftershave at least five minutes before you came around the bend, and the birds have been telegraphing your progress for the last half hour."
"Please pardon our intrusion into your little piece of heaven," Marie explained. "We mean no disrespect, good Elder."
Charlie was enamored by the beauty of the white woman who spoke Cree so well. She looked so much like his eldest daughter that his spine tingled. Hair so dark that there might be some red or purple, but all light was captured by the long strands. Her skin was darker than most white women, but not quite as red as a sister of the woods. The face was so similar, that only the larger breasts and the vocal accent kept Charlie from jumping in the water to greet his beloved daughter, whom he had not seen in more than ten years. She handled the paddle so well too, reaching far out for a cross draw, she eddied the vessel into the shore, with her man swinging in closer to Charlie.
"Tânisi," Scott continued, "I am Scott Campbell, the new Superintendent at Witimaki Provincial Park, and this is my wife, Marie."
He paused long enough for the man to respond with his own name, had he wanted to give it. Charlie finally looked away from the woman, to interact with her husband.
"You are a lucky man, Forest Ranger," Charlie finally responded.
"Thank you." Scott switched to English, not wanting to make any mistakes in communication.
"They call me Charlie Whitefeather. Will you sit and have tea?" Charlie asked.
"Oh, I would love some tea!" Marie burst out. So the decision was made.
Charlie invited them to set up their tent and share his picturesque spot. He only had a tarp for a shelter, but at this time of year the insects were always a menace. They talked well into the night, sitting around a small but smokey fire, to keep the mosquitoes away.
"We have a small, poleless bug shelter in our safety pack, if you care to use it, Charlie."
Marie didn't want to intrude on the traditional ways of doing things, but the mosquitoes can be unbelievable on days without wind.
Charlie took the two man emergency shelter, and enjoyed a good night of sleep.
The next morning, Scott came out to the firepit early, expecting to be first, but Charlie already had a line in the water. So instead of fishing, Scott used his stick stove to make coffee, and then he put more water on, knowing that Marie would need at least another half hour. They had made love for hours, and Marie refused to be quiet about it. That had not stopped her insatiable husband.
Charlie brought four, good sized fish filets to the cooking pit.
