"Leslie What & Nina Kiriki Hoffman - Chain of Command" - читать интересную книгу автора (What Leslie)

stitched together with gut and painted with the stories of our exploits over the years. There were many
images of women spearing animals. One picture story depicted the time Mavis shot a man with her
crossbow. He should have known better than to wear brown in the woods the weekend of our retreat.



In the center of the circle of teepees was a fire circle. Gladys Badger Woman was already hauling wood
in for the fire we'd need during the drumming we'd be doing later tonight. She had mighty thews and a big
axe.



Other SUVs and ATVs were parked beside teepees while women offloaded weaponry, toilet paper, and
auxiliary mail. The air was alive with jingling, jangling, clanking, and greetings.



Our meetings would be held in the lodge, a river-rock building just a short hike up the trail. To the left of
the lodge, a flagstone deck held a stone altar and overlooked dry Starving Woman Creek. Other
communal buildings were tucked further into the forest beyond the lodge.



I parked beside the executive teepee to unload; Kayla scampered out to explore the rock cave in the
nearby woods.



Three years ago, she'd been enthusiastic about coming on a Women Warriors retreat with me. She'd had
the time of her life here. No whining then about what to save and what not to eat. I had a Polaroid of her
in the bottom drawer of my desk at work. In the picture, she held up a half-cooked rabbit on a spit, and
her mouth was smeared with animal fat. She wore the biggest smile I'd ever seen on her face.



You'd never catch her smiling at me like that now.



"First workshop starts in three hours," I called after her.



"Oh goody, arts and crafts. I can hardly wait."



"Force yourself," I said.

***