ten little indians

One little, two little, three little Indians…four little, five little, six little…The beat of the drums rings in my ears.  My ancestors are calling to me, but I do not answer.  It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I can’t.  I yell, I scream, but nothing.  I am here, please come to me I cry, the quiet response is deafening.

“and then Nanabush turned…” said Ashley.   The children’s laughter was a relief to her.  Did they understand her?  Did they know what it all meant because she barely did?