Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada – Autumn, 1981

“Joseph Alon Tomah, what are you doing?” Aunt Eloise called out back. As she leaned against the door to prop it open, she rubbed the small arch of her lower back. She had to admit that she was starting to feel the aches and pains of her age. She really could not complain. She had turned seventy this year. She had outlived everyone else in the family. Her sister had died in Paris, along with her husband, just as the Germans marched into the city and took what they thought was theirs by right. Her own husband had died shortly after the war, leaving her a widow. She and her husband had not been blessed with children. When her older sister’s daughter, Adina, arrived from Germany at the beginning of the war, the couple had taken on the role of parenting her niece. She knew that her husband would have liked to raise a boy, but unfortunately, Adina’s twin brother, Alon, had died before the ship reached port in Halifax.

Adina, too, was dead, recently taken tragically, along with her husband, when their station wagon had careened off a cliff onto the sandy banks of the Bay of Fundy. Joseph was their only child. Adina had married in her late thirties. She had thought she was long past childbearing age when Joseph came along. It had been difficult carrying and then raising a child, especially a first child, in her early forties. Joseph, like any child, had never thought of his parents as old. Or, perhaps he did, in that timeless way that all children perceive adults as having existed in an age long before the dinosaurs.

“Joseph Alon Tomah,” she called again, louder this time, but still eliciting no response from her niece’s son. She shook her head sadly. Oh, how she wished it had been her in the car rather than Adina. Her niece still had so much to live for and, now, sadly, it was Eloise’s job, once again, to raise a child that was not her own.

Eloise was Joseph’s only living relative. She had taken to calling him Joe. She couldn’t erase from her mind the other Joseph, her brother-in-law, Adina’s father. The younger Joseph didn’t seem to mind being called Joe. At least, if he did, he never let on. If Joe ever considered his parents as old, he must consider his great aunt as ancient. His ancestry dictated deep respect for all of his elders. After all, Joe was part Mi’kmaw and very proud of it. His father, John Tomah, was from the Bear River Muin Sipi ancestral group. Joe was proud of his Mi’kmaw heritage, perhaps too proud. He had balked at leaving his home, at coming to live in Halifax, to live with his aging great aunt, a white woman at that.

Eloise called again, louder this time. “Joseph!” The boy barely acknowledged her, turning abruptly away so that his back was facing her, but not before she could see the smudges over his cheeks and forehead, smudges that he had obviously rubbed on his face from the ashes he was creating from the burning grass. He continued to wave strands of burning grass above him and then swished it around. Sparks flew everywhere as the grass embers crumbled and fell to the ground. The smoke lifted gently and swirled magically around the boy’s head creating a nebulous halo. Puffs of smoke drifted towards the house. Eloise took a deep breath, inhaling the sweetness. It was sweetgrass, she thought to herself. Joe was performing a cleansing ritual, for what reason, Eloise could only surmise. It was an act that would be encouraged in Bear River. However, this was Halifax. Burning anything within the city limits, especially grass, was prohibited. It was also very dangerous. Although Eloise lived in a prosperous neighbourhood with a large property, there were numerous trees, very old trees, and shrubbery that could easily and instantly catch fire from a mere spark. Joe, with his waving wand of burning grass, was certainly spreading enough sparks to ignite quite a fire.

“Joseph!” she called again. Grabbing her jacket from behind the door to ward off the November chill, she shrugged into it as she jogged across the backyard. “Joseph Alon Tomah! What do you think you are doing?” She demanded, reaching the boy before he could react. She grabbed the handful of burning sweetgrass and dumped it quickly on the ground, stomping on it to obliterate the flames. She continued to stomp around the general vicinity, extinguishing the sparks that had escaped during the ritual.

“What are you trying to do?” she asked, anger etched in her voice. “Are you trying to burn down the entire city?”

“What would you know?” Joe snorted in response. For all of his twelve years, he stood like a man, convinced of his maturity and his right to do as he pleased.

“Get me a bucket of water, now!” Eloise chose to avoid argument until she was satisfied that there was no further threat of a fire. “Now!” she added with even more force. She pointed her stormy eyes to stare directly into the young boy’s without flinching. “Quickly!” she insisted with a voice that allowed no argument.

“Humph!” Joe glared back for a minute. When Eloise did not lower her eyes, he turned away to do as he was instructed. Eloise continued stomping on the charred grass while she waited. Joe returned with the bucket. Before Eloise could back off, he threw the contents over the charred remains making sure to thoroughly douse his aunt’s feet in the process.

“Thank you,” she snapped with sarcasm. “I really needed that. Wet feet on a cold day like today? Just what I needed!”

“Serves you right,” Joe muttered and stomped back to the house.

Eloise sighed in despair. What was she supposed to do? The law was the law! She could not allow Joe to burn things in her backyard, even if it was a part of some sacred ritual. He had to understand that! He had to respect the law! More to the point, he had to understand her and learn to appreciate the fact that she was doing her duty by taking him in. He was family. She would have it no other way. He was her beloved niece, Adina’s son. She had loved him from a distance, since the day he was born, and she had enjoyed each and every one of his visits over the past twelve years.

Perhaps, she sighed, she was getting too old for this.