Even Rezboys Know....

By Mike Wiggins
Bad River Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Tribal Chair
I can’t remember who told us it would happen. I think a kid at school mentioned it. I looked at my cousins Derek and Tim and then down to the mason jar stuffed full of leeches. We gathered close to that mason jar. The leeches were a cross-section of sizes and colors. All had once called the rocks and water of Denomie Creek home. That was until the day we invaded their world, overturned everything and plucked them from their rightful place.
Those rocks. Those rocks they are on a journey. All rocks are on a journey to big water. They have a spirit, a power a mystery. Everything does. When you pick up those rocks make sure you put them back again. If you take those round ones, those grandfather stones, understand that you won’t be able to keep them. Sooner or later the little people that made them will come and get them back from you. Watch, you’ll see.
My cousins looked at me and I could tell by their eyes they were ready for our dark experiment to begin. I brought forward the shaker of Mortons salt and opened it up. Tim opened the jar of leeches and set the cap aside. I took the Mortons salt and emptied it into the jar. We put the cap back on, gave everything a shake and set the jar down on the table. Like a churning, writhing, thing, the black mass started moving and whirling. Soon blood started to come forth.
Those red cliffs open up during the storms, when the thunderbirds are in the sky. The little people come out and make those grandfather stones. They make those stones right here on the shore of Gitchigumi. They are sacred. All stones are sacred. Look at them in the water. They are different when they are under that clear water. If you grab one that you like because of the color, watch what happens when you pick it up and watch it dry. After it dries and in your hand it loses it’s luster. It belongs on that bed of rocks under the lake. It calls that bed home. Under that water, with those other rocks, is where it’s supposed to be. Even in your hand, the spirit looks to leave, to go home. All rocks are on a journey to big water.
Soon lots of blood filled the jar. It became clear that the salt was burning and eating away at every leech in the jar. Blood filled the jar. Soon it was just a jar full of red with twinges of black here and there. I remember being fascinated and horrified at the same time. I remember wanting to make it stop.
There are rocks in the ground that will bleed. There are rocks in the ground that bleed. There are rocks in the ground that should never be moved. There are rocks that are home and all the things that they need to protect their spirit are provided for them.
I looked at the mason jar and at the faces of Derek and Tim. Rezboys know when the laws of mother nature are broken. It was evident. We put on brave faces but in our eyes the wrongness of what we did was evident. The leeches were living beings and they had a spirit. I could see it in the jar. My cousins and I didn't know any better, we were just kids. That salt forced the spirit out of our waterborne captives. That salt was an agent of change upon exposure with the spirit in those leeches.
There are rocks underground that can never come into contact with air and water. Their time in the light of day has either passed or is not meant to be. There are rocks in the ground that are home. Air and water are agents of change upon exposure with the spirit of some rocks. There are rocks in the ground that will bleed. The blood from an ancient spirit is powerful. So powerful that it will destroy just about everything that air and water love. The rock sends a message that the laws of mother nature were broken.
I took the jar full of leeches and salt and dumped it in the weeds back behind my house. When I dumped it on the ground I realized that the mass was still, after all a bunch of leeches. Misplaced, dead, leeches. We were just kids we didn’t know any better.
When these rocks come up, are dug up, are ripped out of the ground. They will bleed sulfuric acid upon exposure to air and water. Their pulverized remains will be dumped in some wet weedy area near their original home. There they will continue to bleed. The mass will still be after all, a pulverized mess of rocks. Misplaced, dead, rocks. All rocks are on a journey to big water. Even rezboys know that.