Lost Time

Whiskey-Jack, astonished at the revelation of his sudden dissappearance, grabbed his little brother by the shoulders, holding him at arm's length.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "I was only gone for the night, right?" He asked, reflecting on the couple of hours he had spent with the Creator.

Muskrat's eyes went wide, not understanding his brothers lack of time concept. "Whiskey-Jack... You've been gone for two weeks. And Mom... well Mom's been leaving every morning, not coming back until late... I thought I was going to be all alone forever..." His voice cracked, showing his vulnerability, Whiskey-Jack's gut wrenching at the sight.

With a heavy sigh he pulled his brother in for a tight hug, his heart aching for the fear he had never seen in Muskrat's eyes before.

Unable to imagine the emotions his little brother felt, loneliness, fear... the weight of it all was something he never wished on anyone.

"I'm so sorry Muskrat, I promise to never be gone that long again" Whiskey-Jack muttered. But his mind kept circling back to something Muskrat had said.

"I've been gone two weeks... What the hell is going on?

"Did Mom not notice me missing? It almost seems she doesn't care about us anymore" He couldn't understand his mother's behaviour, or why she would intentionally abandon them.

After a moment of silence, he pulled away, his face serious. "Has Dad come back yet?" Hoping their father would be able to figure out the cause of her sudden shift in behaviour.

Muskrat shook his head, but his expression showed a flicker of hope. "Not yet. But I've seen smoke signals. I'm pretty sure he's close by..."

Whiskey-Jack nodded, as they talked longer, he learned that things had been going downhill. Their mother was looking worse, and her behavior had turned... strange, hostile and paranoid. Almost like she was expecting someone to come into their home and harm them.

"Every night, she stands by the window, staring out. And before bed, she always drags the table in front of the door," Muskrat explained, looking around, afraid someone or something might be listening in on them.

Whiskey-Jack leaning back stroked the small amount of facial hair he had. "It must be the stress of me being gone so long... and whatever that thing was we saw that night. She's probably just being cautious." He thought, trying to make excuses for her or atleast understand her motives. But something gnawed at him. Deep down, he didn't believe that explanation fully.

Muskrat's voice broke through his thoughts. "Whiskey-Jack... where did you go? I was so worried..."

Whiskey-Jack didn't answer right away. He couldn't, because the truth was, he didn't know. But one thing was certain: he needed answers. And the only person who could give them to him... was their father.

"I don't know, Muskrat... but I'm hoping Dad will have the answers."