Poem: "Red Shoes"
This poem came out of the August 1, 2023 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by discussions with Dreamwidth users Dialecticdreamer and Siliconshaman. It also fills the "Red Shoes" square in my 8-1-23 card for the New Adventures Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by DW user Callibr8. It belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics.
WARNING: This poem contains intense and controversial material that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes canon-atypical violence, events that are historically embarrassing for Canada and the United States of America, racism, racial injustice, graphic descriptions of genocide, kidnapping, child harm, cultural abuse, death camps falsely described as missionary boarding schools, mass murder, widowhood, child death, frank sex talk, orphans, hiding in the woods, and other mayhem. WARN ALL THE THINGS! If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before deciding if this is something you want to read.
"Red Shoes"
[1830]
The white people had
made trouble once too often.
The Red River Colony had
established a number of
Protestant Church and
Mission School locations,
then set about kidnapping
as many tribal children as
they could to take there.
Red Shoes Woman had
lost her twin daughters,
Bold Heart Girl and
Quiet Heart Girl, to
those kidnappers.
She heard what
happened to them
because one witness
recognized the red shoes
matching their mother's
as they were both carried
away from the trading post.
Her husband Caribou Jumping
went after the children, but he
never returned from the search.
Red Shoes tried to trail him,
and asked everyone she met,
"Have you seen my husband?
Have you seen my children?"
Nobody had, though.
When word came
that one of the girls
had died in captivity,
Red Shoes set out for
that mission to rescue
her remaining daughter.
Finally, she had a place
and a trail she could follow.
On the route there -- for
it was a long way from
her home territory -- she
heard terrible tales from
others who had escaped.
A maiden by the name of
She Jumps Fences said,
"The men used to tie me to
a metal thing with blankets
on it because I wouldn't
sit still for them, until I
managed to escape."
"They used to lie on me
like I was their wife, even
though they told us that
white priests don't have
wives," said Skirt Boy.
"Then they sold me, and
I got away from that man."
"The missionaries stole
all of my sons, and later I
heard that they had died,"
said Prairie Hen. "I don't
know whether it's true or not."
"Wait for me," Red Shoes said
to the frightened children and
their parents. "Later on, I will
come back for you if I can."
When she reached the place,
Red Shoes spent four days
spying on the missionaries.
She learned when they rose
and when they slept, where
they went, what they ate, and
where they kept the children.
She learned, too, about
the cemetery with its rows
and rows of wooden crosses
that marked the gravesites of
murdered children, so many,
too many for her to count.
She could not bring back
the dead ... but she could
certainly avenge their loss.
Red Shoes watched as men
buried a boy, and she spied
on them, and she waited.
They were churchmen,
not warriors. They were
unprepared for a woman
who had earned her name by
walking in the blood of her prey.
On the moon-dark night, she
crept into the rooms where
the missionaries slept, and
she slit their throats with
her steel trade-knife.
Once again she walked
in the blood of her prey,
leaving crimson footprints.
Then Red Shoes went to
the dormitories and found
her remaining daughter.
"Be as quiet as a mouse,
Bold Heart, we are leaving,"
Red Shoes whispered to her.
"My heart is no longer bold,"
her daughter said. "Those men
killed Quiet Heart, so now I feel
like only half of a person."
"Then from now on, you will
be Half-Heart Girl," she said,
touching her bloody blade to
her daughter's forehead, "and
I will be Red Knife Woman,"
she finished, touching
the blade to her own.
The other girls in
the dormitory woke
and started whispering,
some in Chipeweyan,
some in English, some
in other languages.
"Take us with you,"
they begged. "We don't
want the white men to kill
us like they did the others."
"Do not fear the white men,"
said Red Knife. "They are dead,
and cannot hurt you anymore."
"Good," said one of the older girls.
"My name is Howling Bitch, not
Mary. I'm glad they're all dead."
So was Red Knife. At least now
they couldn't hurt anyone else.
Let the missionaries go explain
to their Hanging God that they
had killed children, and see
what he would make of that.
Red Knife had heard stories
that the Hanging God had come
out of a woman's vagina like
any other man, so she thought
he would not like that much.
Not to mention what his mother
would say to the missionaries.
Now, though, Red Knife had
dozens of little girls instead
of just one, and she ought
to free the boys as well.
Half-Heart pointed to
the hall that led toward
the boys' dormitory.
Red Knife let herself
into the long room, and
then woke up the boys.
"I have come to take you
from this place," she said.
"The girls are already free
and waiting for us nearby."
"Thank you. I'm Swift Arrow,"
said one of the older boys.
"We will come with you.
This is a place of death."
"I know," said Red Knife.
"One of my daughters lies
under the ground outside.
But the other lives and
will escape with us."
There were dozens
of boys, but at least
the older ones could
carry the younger ones,
same as the girls did, which
made for fewer footprints.
"We must travel as fast
and as far as we can before
we rest," said Red Knife. "We
must melt into the forest like
shadows, like morning mist."
"Then we will become shadows
and mist," said Howling Bitch.
"Lead us, mother, and we'll follow."
"I'm not your mother," said Red Knife.
"You have your own, and she must
be missing you terribly by now."
"The white men killed my mother,"
said Howling Bitch. "For some
of us, you are all we have now."
"Then I will be your mother,"
Red Knife agreed at last.
So they hurried away from
the areas that the white people
thought they had tamed, and
then dove into the forest.
They traveled along the trails
of deer and rabbits, climbed
trees to cross ravines, and
hiked along shallow creeks
whose water washed away
all trace of their footprints
even as they made them.
When they could not go
any further, they stopped
to hide themselves under
fallen trees or brushpiles
or the abandoned dens of
bears and timber wolves.
They curled up and slept
together during the day.
By night, they ran again,
shadows and mist in
the dense forests.
Only when they had
fled far enough to elude
any immediate pursuit
did Red Knife gather
the children to discuss
what they would do next.
"I have killed many white men,"
she said. "They do not know
about me, so they may blame
you instead. You can come
with me, or seek your families,
but realize you have enemies."
"My family is already dead,"
said Howling Bitch. "This
is all the family I have now."
"My parents have come
to worship the Hanging God,"
said Swift Arrow. "I think that
they would not welcome me."
Some of the children still
wished to go home, if they
could, and Red Knife agreed
to help them do so if that
would prove possible.
She led the group along
a meandering path, and
as she could, returned
children to their relatives.
Red Knife also found
Prairie Hen and Skirt Boy
and She Jumps Fences
again and invited them
to join the growing group.
Sadly, Prairie Hen's boys
were not among the ones
rescued, or even among
the dead -- they had gone
to some other school.
Red Knife picked up
other people, too, along
the way, and by the time
they finished there were
over a hundred of them.
"We are going to disappear,"
said Red Knife. "We are going
to become ghosts in the woods.
No permanent campground, no
settling in or near towns, and
no staying in the same area."
"Then how will we eat?"
said Howling Bitch. "We'll
need to store food for winter."
"We'll make caches, scattered
far and wide," said Red Knife.
"We'll carry what we can and
hide what we can't carry. We've
all seen hunters do it on the trail."
"Yes, we can do those things,"
said Prairie Hen. "We've survived
worse. We can manage this."
"What about the words?"
said She Jumps Fences.
"Some people talk one way,
some another. Some even
learned the white men's words
and are afraid to say any others."
"I have heard you children bickering
over how you talk," said Red Knife.
"I wondered what that was about."
"Men beat us," said Swift Arrow.
"Every time we talked our own way."
"My sister wouldn't say their words,
and then, she stopped talking at all,"
Half-Heart said, twisting her hair.
"They locked her away and told her
that they'd feed her when she spoke
the right words. But she never did,
so the white men left her to die."
Red Knife clenched and unclenched
her jaw, chewing on her wrath.
"We will keep all the words,"
she declared. "We will speak
our own to follow our ancestors,
but we will turn the enemy's words
into a weapon that we can use against
them. So do not throw down the words,
any more than you would an enemy's rifle."
"Then we will become one people with
many tongues," said Prairie Hen.
"I know the white men's words,"
said Skirt Boy. "I can dress as a girl
and listen to them from the shadows
so we know what they are doing."
"Perhaps," said Red Knife. "For
now, though, we must disappear.
We will go farther north, where
people are few and far between,
and nobody will hunt for us there."
"What if they do?" said Swift Arrow.
"The whites want the whole world."
"We will avoid them if we can, or make
allies with the mixed-blood people,"
said Red Knife. "If we cannot, then
we will kill our enemies -- but they
will never know that. They will fall
to the river ice and the winter wind,
the hungry bear and the broken axe."
Facing them in honorable combat
hadn't worked; warriors had tried it.
It was no use against people who
never had any honor to begin with.
"The wild is such a dangerous place,"
Howling Bitch said, showing her teeth.
"They will learn to stay away from it."
So the tribe of Red Knife disappeared,
and became ghosts in the woods.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
WARNING: This poem contains intense and controversial material that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes canon-atypical violence, events that are historically embarrassing for Canada and the United States of America, racism, racial injustice, graphic descriptions of genocide, kidnapping, child harm, cultural abuse, death camps falsely described as missionary boarding schools, mass murder, widowhood, child death, frank sex talk, orphans, hiding in the woods, and other mayhem. WARN ALL THE THINGS! If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before deciding if this is something you want to read.
"Red Shoes"
[1830]
The white people had
made trouble once too often.
The Red River Colony had
established a number of
Protestant Church and
Mission School locations,
then set about kidnapping
as many tribal children as
they could to take there.
Red Shoes Woman had
lost her twin daughters,
Bold Heart Girl and
Quiet Heart Girl, to
those kidnappers.
She heard what
happened to them
because one witness
recognized the red shoes
matching their mother's
as they were both carried
away from the trading post.
Her husband Caribou Jumping
went after the children, but he
never returned from the search.
Red Shoes tried to trail him,
and asked everyone she met,
"Have you seen my husband?
Have you seen my children?"
Nobody had, though.
When word came
that one of the girls
had died in captivity,
Red Shoes set out for
that mission to rescue
her remaining daughter.
Finally, she had a place
and a trail she could follow.
On the route there -- for
it was a long way from
her home territory -- she
heard terrible tales from
others who had escaped.
A maiden by the name of
She Jumps Fences said,
"The men used to tie me to
a metal thing with blankets
on it because I wouldn't
sit still for them, until I
managed to escape."
"They used to lie on me
like I was their wife, even
though they told us that
white priests don't have
wives," said Skirt Boy.
"Then they sold me, and
I got away from that man."
"The missionaries stole
all of my sons, and later I
heard that they had died,"
said Prairie Hen. "I don't
know whether it's true or not."
"Wait for me," Red Shoes said
to the frightened children and
their parents. "Later on, I will
come back for you if I can."
When she reached the place,
Red Shoes spent four days
spying on the missionaries.
She learned when they rose
and when they slept, where
they went, what they ate, and
where they kept the children.
She learned, too, about
the cemetery with its rows
and rows of wooden crosses
that marked the gravesites of
murdered children, so many,
too many for her to count.
She could not bring back
the dead ... but she could
certainly avenge their loss.
Red Shoes watched as men
buried a boy, and she spied
on them, and she waited.
They were churchmen,
not warriors. They were
unprepared for a woman
who had earned her name by
walking in the blood of her prey.
On the moon-dark night, she
crept into the rooms where
the missionaries slept, and
she slit their throats with
her steel trade-knife.
Once again she walked
in the blood of her prey,
leaving crimson footprints.
Then Red Shoes went to
the dormitories and found
her remaining daughter.
"Be as quiet as a mouse,
Bold Heart, we are leaving,"
Red Shoes whispered to her.
"My heart is no longer bold,"
her daughter said. "Those men
killed Quiet Heart, so now I feel
like only half of a person."
"Then from now on, you will
be Half-Heart Girl," she said,
touching her bloody blade to
her daughter's forehead, "and
I will be Red Knife Woman,"
she finished, touching
the blade to her own.
The other girls in
the dormitory woke
and started whispering,
some in Chipeweyan,
some in English, some
in other languages.
"Take us with you,"
they begged. "We don't
want the white men to kill
us like they did the others."
"Do not fear the white men,"
said Red Knife. "They are dead,
and cannot hurt you anymore."
"Good," said one of the older girls.
"My name is Howling Bitch, not
Mary. I'm glad they're all dead."
So was Red Knife. At least now
they couldn't hurt anyone else.
Let the missionaries go explain
to their Hanging God that they
had killed children, and see
what he would make of that.
Red Knife had heard stories
that the Hanging God had come
out of a woman's vagina like
any other man, so she thought
he would not like that much.
Not to mention what his mother
would say to the missionaries.
Now, though, Red Knife had
dozens of little girls instead
of just one, and she ought
to free the boys as well.
Half-Heart pointed to
the hall that led toward
the boys' dormitory.
Red Knife let herself
into the long room, and
then woke up the boys.
"I have come to take you
from this place," she said.
"The girls are already free
and waiting for us nearby."
"Thank you. I'm Swift Arrow,"
said one of the older boys.
"We will come with you.
This is a place of death."
"I know," said Red Knife.
"One of my daughters lies
under the ground outside.
But the other lives and
will escape with us."
There were dozens
of boys, but at least
the older ones could
carry the younger ones,
same as the girls did, which
made for fewer footprints.
"We must travel as fast
and as far as we can before
we rest," said Red Knife. "We
must melt into the forest like
shadows, like morning mist."
"Then we will become shadows
and mist," said Howling Bitch.
"Lead us, mother, and we'll follow."
"I'm not your mother," said Red Knife.
"You have your own, and she must
be missing you terribly by now."
"The white men killed my mother,"
said Howling Bitch. "For some
of us, you are all we have now."
"Then I will be your mother,"
Red Knife agreed at last.
So they hurried away from
the areas that the white people
thought they had tamed, and
then dove into the forest.
They traveled along the trails
of deer and rabbits, climbed
trees to cross ravines, and
hiked along shallow creeks
whose water washed away
all trace of their footprints
even as they made them.
When they could not go
any further, they stopped
to hide themselves under
fallen trees or brushpiles
or the abandoned dens of
bears and timber wolves.
They curled up and slept
together during the day.
By night, they ran again,
shadows and mist in
the dense forests.
Only when they had
fled far enough to elude
any immediate pursuit
did Red Knife gather
the children to discuss
what they would do next.
"I have killed many white men,"
she said. "They do not know
about me, so they may blame
you instead. You can come
with me, or seek your families,
but realize you have enemies."
"My family is already dead,"
said Howling Bitch. "This
is all the family I have now."
"My parents have come
to worship the Hanging God,"
said Swift Arrow. "I think that
they would not welcome me."
Some of the children still
wished to go home, if they
could, and Red Knife agreed
to help them do so if that
would prove possible.
She led the group along
a meandering path, and
as she could, returned
children to their relatives.
Red Knife also found
Prairie Hen and Skirt Boy
and She Jumps Fences
again and invited them
to join the growing group.
Sadly, Prairie Hen's boys
were not among the ones
rescued, or even among
the dead -- they had gone
to some other school.
Red Knife picked up
other people, too, along
the way, and by the time
they finished there were
over a hundred of them.
"We are going to disappear,"
said Red Knife. "We are going
to become ghosts in the woods.
No permanent campground, no
settling in or near towns, and
no staying in the same area."
"Then how will we eat?"
said Howling Bitch. "We'll
need to store food for winter."
"We'll make caches, scattered
far and wide," said Red Knife.
"We'll carry what we can and
hide what we can't carry. We've
all seen hunters do it on the trail."
"Yes, we can do those things,"
said Prairie Hen. "We've survived
worse. We can manage this."
"What about the words?"
said She Jumps Fences.
"Some people talk one way,
some another. Some even
learned the white men's words
and are afraid to say any others."
"I have heard you children bickering
over how you talk," said Red Knife.
"I wondered what that was about."
"Men beat us," said Swift Arrow.
"Every time we talked our own way."
"My sister wouldn't say their words,
and then, she stopped talking at all,"
Half-Heart said, twisting her hair.
"They locked her away and told her
that they'd feed her when she spoke
the right words. But she never did,
so the white men left her to die."
Red Knife clenched and unclenched
her jaw, chewing on her wrath.
"We will keep all the words,"
she declared. "We will speak
our own to follow our ancestors,
but we will turn the enemy's words
into a weapon that we can use against
them. So do not throw down the words,
any more than you would an enemy's rifle."
"Then we will become one people with
many tongues," said Prairie Hen.
"I know the white men's words,"
said Skirt Boy. "I can dress as a girl
and listen to them from the shadows
so we know what they are doing."
"Perhaps," said Red Knife. "For
now, though, we must disappear.
We will go farther north, where
people are few and far between,
and nobody will hunt for us there."
"What if they do?" said Swift Arrow.
"The whites want the whole world."
"We will avoid them if we can, or make
allies with the mixed-blood people,"
said Red Knife. "If we cannot, then
we will kill our enemies -- but they
will never know that. They will fall
to the river ice and the winter wind,
the hungry bear and the broken axe."
Facing them in honorable combat
hadn't worked; warriors had tried it.
It was no use against people who
never had any honor to begin with.
"The wild is such a dangerous place,"
Howling Bitch said, showing her teeth.
"They will learn to stay away from it."
So the tribe of Red Knife disappeared,
and became ghosts in the woods.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.