Not All Spirits Are of God

Jerome V. Lofgren

Description

A thrilling Arctic adventure of the Inupiat Whaling People of Northwest Alaska.
A thrilling Arctic Adventure of the Inupiat Whaling people of Northwest Alaska.

Sujets

• Chamán
• Inupiat
• Bowhead whale
• Whaling
• Tundra
• Shamanism
• Alternative medicine
• Makah
• Greed
• Adventure
• Shaman
• Fiction
• Toundra
• Action

Informations

• Publié par: iUniverse
• Date de parution: 11 septembre 2001
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781469776330
• Langue: English

Extrait

Not All Spirits Are Of God
 
 
 
THE MEDICINE WHEEL SAGA: PART ONE
 
An Arctic Adventure of the Inupiat Whaling People of
Northwest Alaska
 
 
 
 
 
Jerome V. Lofgren
 
 
 
 
 
Authors Choice Press
San Jose New York Lincoln Shanghai
 
Not All Spirits Are Of God
An Arctic Adventure of the Inupiat Whaling People of Northwest Alaska
 
All Rights Reserved © 2001 by JVL Alaska, Inc.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the
permission in writing from the publisher.
 
Authors Choice Press
an imprint of iUniverse.com, Inc.
 
For information address:
iUniverse.com, Inc.
5220 S 16th, Ste. 200
Lincoln, NE 68512
www.iuniverse.com
 
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely conincidental.
 
 
ISBN: 0-595-19881-3
ISBN: 978-1-4697-7633-0 (ebook)
 
Printed in the United States of America
 
Contents
EPIGRAPH  
FOREWORD  
INTRODUCTION  
BOOK I  
CHAPTER ONE  
CHAPTER TWO  
CHAPTER THREE  
BOOK II  
CHAPTER FOUR  
CHAPTER FIVE  
CHAPTER SIX  
BOOK III  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
BOOK IV  
CHAPTER NINE  
CHAPTER TEN  
CHAPTER ELEVEN  
CHAPTER TWELVE  
BOOK V  
CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
BOOK VI  
CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
CHAPTER NINETEEN  
CHAPTER TWENTY  
BOOK VII  
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE  
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO  
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE  
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR  
BOOK VIII  
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE  
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX  
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN  
EPILOGUE  
 
 
 
 
This book is dedicated to Ralph Amok, the Inupiat healer who inspired and guided the writing of this book. Being the eternal wanderer I know not where he is now. But wherever he is he should know that my love and friendship goes with him.
 
Visit the Jerome Lofgren Home Page at http://members.home.net/jlofgren4/
Other Books by the author:
NARY A NOSE NOR TAIL —Novella Grandfather—Grandson adventure story.
NOT ALL SPIRITS ARE OF GOD- Arctic adventure novel Charlie Frankson, Inupiat Shaman Vol 1 of the medicine wheel stones series.
SUQUAMISH —Native American adventure Vol 2 of the medicine wheel stones series TLINGIT —Native American adventure Vol 3 of the medicine wheel stones series KRISTINA —Historical novel (Civil War) A female Johnny Reb
MONTSEGUR: Love in the time of the inquisition
The massacre at Montsegur, France in 1244 AD. NARY A NOSE AND OTHER TALES —collection of short adventure stories of a young boy with his grandfather.
And the National EPPIE award winner for the best non-fiction of 2000 THE SEARCH FOR JACK LONDON —A biography of the famous American writer.
These books are available at http://www.iuniverse.com/marketplace/bookstore/ Barnes And Noble Amazon And your local bookstore.
EPIGRAPH
Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are of God.” I John 4:1 RSV
FOREWORD
Bowhead
Silently, I move towards destiny Quietly, you, Inupiat, await my destiny. I can hear you as I move under the Ice. I can see you as I surface. Together we wait. Both know what the other thinks. Although we live in different worlds, we exist for each other. I move toward you, Inupiat, because it is my destiny. You wait for me because I am your destiny. Quietly, I approach you. Silently, you move toward me. I give you your culture. I give you myself, Bowhead whale.
From Sinrock by Fred Bigjim
INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION TO CHARLIE FRANKSON.
The known facts about Charlie Frankson are few and quickly stated. He was a fifty-five year old Inupiat from northwest Alaska who lived in two worlds, the physical world and the spiritual world, the white man’s world and the shaman’s world.
At the age of fifteen, the Catholic missionaries enrolled him in an Iowa seminary to be trained to be a priest. Just prior to taking his ordination vow the Elders called him back to finish his Shaman training.
A wanderer by vocation, he had wandered for twelve years throughout Alaska, Siberia, and Canada, searching for his power stones.
The Elders called him back a second time to save their village from destruction. Not All Spirits Are Of God is the account of that heroic deed.
Charlie Frankson was a meek man of few words with a peaceful, compassionate nature that allowed the powerful people to brush him aside on the assumption that he was an inconsequential person. They were mistaken.
BOOK I
THE TRAINING BEGINS
CHAPTER ONE
GRANDFATHER KAYOURAK
Anchorage, Alaska June 1943
“This summer you’re going to Finger Point to live with Grandfather Kayourak for one year,” said Charlie’s mother.
It sounded like a twelve-year-olds’ dream come true. Charlie envisioned a year living free from his mother’s nagging voice; of hunting and fishing every day, of camping and exploring, and, above all, adventuring.
That illusion was quickly dashed when he stood alone on Finger Point’s rough gravel airstrip. The cold north wind blowing off the Arctic ice cut through his light jacket and nipped his ear lobes. He regretted not listening to his mother when she told him to wear a warm cap.
It had been 65 degrees in Anchorage when he boarded the big airplane that took him to Kotzebue where he connected with a small single engine plane that carried him the 175 miles northwest to Finger Point. There he had been dumped like surplus freight at the furthermost corner of northern Alaska. The wind chill was ten below and the sun was high in the June sky.
The little plane’s arrival had brought a maze of people surging from the village, two miles away. Relatives and friends greeted the arriving passengers. Young Charlie was pushed aside by three departing white people, a man and two women who had just finished their year at the village school, eager to board and be on their way outside. The interchange was completed in less than ten minutes.
As the plane wheeled and roared down the gravel strip the people turned their backs and hunkered over against the storm of dust and flying gravel. Airborne, the plane quickly banked and disappeared into the southern sky.
Like a flock of surging black birds, the villagers who had rushed to the airstrip disappeared back into the village, leaving young Charlie standing alone beside the battered brown suitcase that his mother had packed for him.
His initial excitement quickly ebbed. He was alone in a land where there was nothing in all directions. Everything was flat, barren and silent.
Slowly Charlie turned around, looking for grandfather Kayourak. He’d never met the old man. He couldn’t imagine what a one hundred and twenty year old man would look like.
The ancient village of Finger Point was located on a flat narrow finger of gravel, thrusting defiantly into the Arctic Ocean. The horizon was unbroken in all directions; flat barren tundra stretched to the east, flat white ocean ice wrapped its icy hands around the protrusion seeking to crush it beneath its grinding weight.
Young Charlie’s unaccustomed eyes saw nothing but flat white expanse. He didn’t see “The People” standing in the distance like clumps of black brush watching him. Soon, he’d see them and talk with them but not yet.
“The People” watched everything in their land. They watched as another dark shape rose up from the ruins of old town.
Charlie didn’t see the dark creature as it materialized out of the ground and moved toward him until it was nearly halfway. As the dark creature drew nearer, it took on the shape of a man, a very old man, hunched over and taking very slow and very deliberate steps. His face was hidden beneath a parka hood pulled forward. A fearful chill came over young Charlie, as he stood frozen in place, hypnotized by the approaching dark one.
It would take a long time for young Charlie to overcome his fear of the wrinkled old man, who was so old even the old people addressed him as great grandfather Kayourak. Speaking with the utmost respect, even with fear, the villagers made every effort to appease and placate Kayourak by bringing gifts and showing deference.
“How go school today?” Asked the old Inupiat as he sat, cross-legged, leaning back against the sod wall of his ancient house.
Charlie was very slow to answer. His feelings were all in a jumble. Those first months of living with the great old man had been precious. But living as they did in a musty, damp, sod house, the last one in their village, was humiliating. He tried but he knew he couldn’t hide his feelings from the old man. Looking up with sad eyes and speaking in a soft whisper, Charlie answered.
“The other kids say I stink.”
“Humm,” replied the old man softly with a bit of disgust.
“They say, I stink of rancid seal oil, of smoke and of moldy dirt.”
“They’ve grown a white man’s nose now,” sniffed the old man.
“My teacher kept me after school today. She asked me why I never take a bath and why I always wear the same filthy clothes.”
“She asked that?” Asked the old man, straightening his back in indignation.