The Mida

By Kimberly Sigafus and Lyle Ernst

Mesa, an Ojibwa woman schooled in the Midewiwan arts, owns the mystically powerful carnival, The Mida. Twenty-one years ago, her husband was killed, and she was forced to leave their baby, Tony, with his grandmother for his protection. Now the carnival has brought Mesa back to 1952 Farmingdale, Iowa. She is confronted by the son who thought she was dead, and the sheriff who believes her and the carnies had something to do with the murders that happened the night the carnival appeared in town. While trying to clear the carnival’s name, Mesa ends up putting Tony under suspicion. Mesa and the carnies work hard to clear everyone before they have to leave at the end of the week. She also has to make the decision whether to leave the carnival for Tony, or leave him behind again as she struggles to protect the carnival against Jiibay. This dark Ojibwa spirit killed her husband many years ago in an attempt to take over the mystically-powerful carnival. Caught up in her problems with her son, Mesa doesn’t realize Jiibay has discovered their whereabouts, and now everyone is in danger, including the child she gave up to protect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kimberly Sigafus
• Release date: May 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9780991622726

Kimberly Sigafus

Native American author, Kimberly Sigafus, is from Freeport, Illinois. An internationally-published, award-winning author, her writing includes both Native American fiction and non-fiction. A hybrid author, Kim is both traditionally and self-published.She’s won several awards for her work, including the Lena D. Myers Award for historical writing, and the Faith and Freedom Award for her eagle photography and accompanying poem. Her book, Native Writers, Voices of Power, which was co-written with writing partner Lyle Ernst, was recognized by the USA Best Book Awards in the children's non-fiction category. The book was also a finalist for the Next Generation Indie Book Awards. An Ojibwa, her family is from the White Earth Indian Reservation in Minnesota. She crafts dream catchers and talking feathers, and drums and sings. In her native Ojibwa regalia, Kim travels around the Midwest presenting Native American programs. An accomplished speaker, Kim has spoken at libraries, conferences, retreats, individual group gathers, and reading councils. Kim is married, and her and Andy have six grown children. They reside in a 120 year-old Victorian house with their two dogs and Benny, their lovable cat. The author can be reached through her website: kimberlysigafus.com. Her print books can be obtained through Amazon.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Tony opened his eyes and felt pain shooting through his head from the one-too-many-beers he’d consumed the night before.

Something was hitting his bedroom window. Groaning, he slowly dragged himself out of bed and stumbled over to see what it was, tripping over a chair in the process.

The curtains were open, and the darkness of the room was lit only by a half moon. Through blurry eyes he could barely make out the fresh-cut field across the road.

Tony staggered back over to his bedside table and grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter. Then he headed back to the window.

Thump.

He jumped, dropping his cigarettes on the floor. He bent to pick them up and peered through the window. A fog was beginning to roll in over the field on the other side of the road. Mesmerized, he watched as the field slowly disappeared.

Thump.

Tony jumped back, dropping his lighter. Heart pounding, he watched as a white wing appeared and disappeared right outside his window.

He pressed his forehead against the glass, and squinted in disbelief as he watched a white owl settle onto a branch near his window. The bird’s head slowly turned, and caught Tony’s gaze with unblinking yellow eyes. After a moment, the owl turned his head and flew off in the direction of the field.

Tony watched it disappear into the fog. It was then he realized the field wasn’t empty anymore. The moon was now full and he watched in disbelief as shapes began rising out of the mist. His mouth dropped open.

Across the road in the empty field…was a Ferris wheel.

CHAPTER 2

The field was dark, and there was coldness around Jiibay as he walked through the deserted area surrounded by tents and big trucks that housed the makings of a carnival. He knew they had just arrived, and because they were all asleep, had no idea they had just been found.

He’d searched endlessly for them, through time and space. He’d found them several times, only to have them slip from his grasp. The discovery of the whereabouts of the carnival filled him with much satisfaction. All around him were beings, mostly human, each of them possessing amazing powers that set them apart from others of their kind.

Now they were his. They would do his bidding, causing destruction to those around them, to those they loved, and those who dared get in his way.

Walking slowly past the tent that housed Carlotta, he smiled arrogantly. A dancer, her sleek body enticed men to give her what she wanted, but none of that would work on him. He would take what he wanted from her, and leave her broken and defenseless.

A movement to his left stilled him, and he cocked his head to the side. His vision knew no bounds, and he used it now to gaze through the sea of tents on the other side of the field. A small trailer was set slightly apart from the tents and trucks. A pudgy man was sprawled out on the trailer’s steps, his twitching arms splayed out. Sleep had apparently taken another victim.

The woman was left unprotected, thought Jiibay. Her protector, the chubby little seer, would not wake fast enough to help her.

He moved quietly, effortlessly gliding. When he was nearly upon the sleeping man, he raised his eyes to look through the thin walls of the trailer. He could see the woman move restlessly in her bed. One white candle was lit in the center of a small table in the middle of the room. Her white owl’s cage was empty, and Jiibay glanced around quickly to see the owl was nowhere in sight. In Native American culture, a white owl was thought to stand for an unexpected change or death, and he had wondered many times why she chose to have it as a pet. At the moment, however, he was more worried about the owl notifying everyone in camp of his presence.

Suddenly a wind picked up, and he could hear voices murmuring in the dawn. They became louder, disturbing the enjoyment of his discovery. Scowling, he backed away from the steps and the sleeping man. He’d hoped to pay the sleeping woman a visit, but knew the voices would warn the camp of his presence if he didn’t leave. The time had not yet come for them to know they had been discovered.

The wind-blown voices became louder, surrounding him now. The sleeping man woke with a start and sat up. He looked around quickly, and not seeing anyone, he rubbed his eyes and stretched. Then he lay back down and closed his eyes again. Jiibay watched him, amused by the seer’s lack of perception.

Suddenly a light appeared above Jiibay’s head, and he took a step back. The light moved with him. He gave the woman in the trailer one more glance and then sighed in frustration. Not willing to take the chance of being discovered this early in the game, he raised a hand out to his side and quickly slipped sideways into the nothingness.

The light watched him leave and then changed its color to yellow. A shape quickly took form. The figure of a man stood where the light had been. He surveyed the area and rested his gaze on the little man lying on the steps.

Connor.

The sleepy man opened his eyes. Norm? What’s going on? Connor started to get up and winced. Sleeping on the steps always made him a little sore in the morning. He finally managed to stand and limp slowly over to Norm, stopping in front of him. Did you see something?

You obviously didn’t see anything, remarked Norm. Hard to see with your eyes closed, isn’t it?

I was awake. I thought I heard something.

Is that so? What did you hear?

I’m not sure, Connor admitted, rubbing his bald head.

I see. Not helpful…not helpful at all. Norm glanced at the door of the trailer. She’s not up?

Connor shook his head.

Just as well. She needs her rest. We have a lot to do here.

Connor shoved his hands into his stained and wrinkled pants pockets. Where do we start?

Norm nodded toward the trailer. She will know.

Connor turned and shot a glance at the trailer. How do you know that?

Not getting an answer, he turned around to find he was alone. I hate when he does that, he murmured, limping slowly away, heading back to the steps.

Jiibay watched the exchange from a place they couldn’t see. He now realized getting control of the carnival was not going to be as easy as he thought. They had guardians…the Gatekeepers. But now that he’d found the carnival, he wasn’t about to let them go without a fight. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he crouched and sank underneath their world.

CHAPTER 3

Nola moved around her kitchen with quick ease. Her sharp blue eyes watched a pot boiling on the massive, outdated stove while she kneaded the second loaf of bread she’d prepared since she had gotten up two hours earlier. The aroma of coffee wafted through the kitchen and she looked around briefly, pleased at all she’d accomplished already this day.

The tiny woman glanced at the clock over the sink and wondered how long her grandson, Tony, would sleep. She’d heard him moving around in the middle of the night and wondered what had kept him up this time. He was a restless sleeper, and therefore wasn’t in the best of moods in the morning. She wondered if the recent fight with his girlfriend, Joanie, was the cause this time.

Glancing around to make sure her bread was rising and the pot wasn’t boiling too rapidly, she headed for her bedroom to get ready for the day. She removed the dressing gown as well as the apron she always wore in the kitchen and chose a comfortable brown day dress. Peering into the mirror she’d had since she was ten, she brushed her mousey-brown short hair. Her friend, Eileen, had just given her a color and permanent the week before and her hair fell in soft curls that framed her face.

She shook her head as she noticed new lines by her eyes. She’d just turned sixty-two last summer, and with the unseasonably cold fall weather they were having lately, she felt all of her years down deep in her bones. She turned around and headed back into the kitchen.

Tony was at the little Formica table with a cup of coffee. She spared him a glance and took the chance to speak to her always-grumpy-in-the-morning grandson.

How’d you sleep? I heard you up last night again.

He gave her a surly look as he sipped his coffee. If you must know, a damn owl woke me up in the middle of the night.

Nola laughed. An owl? I haven’t heard an owl in years!

The damn thing flew right past my window.

There’s not many of them around here anymore with old man Kennedy shooting at them all the time, said Nola, wiping off the counter.

Tony shook his head. That crazy old man almost shot the Jones boy last week. The kid was walking home from school and stepped onto Kennedy’s property for a moment to pick something up. Kennedy came out of his house with his shotgun and chased the kid down the road. Tony laughed and added, The kid didn’t want to walk past his place anymore. His old man had to take him to school in the truck for the rest of the week.

Nola shook her head as she stirred the oatmeal in the big pot. That kid never had a lick of sense, anyhow.

They sat in the quiet of the morning, not speaking for a few moments, each in their own thoughts. Nola dished the oatmeal out and set it in front of Tony who looked at it with disdain. She’d made him oatmeal for breakfast every day since he was a little boy and he was plenty sick of it. He’d asked her for eggs, bacon, sausages…anything, but she had insisted that oatmeal was good for him.

Sighing, he picked up his spoon and dumped heaps of brown sugar over the top of the hot cereal, knowing how much that irritated her. Nola pretended not to notice.

Setting the milk in front of him, she sat down across from him and dished out her own bowl. They ate in silence for a moment, Tony shoving the cereal in his mouth as fast as he could and Nola taking each bite slowly, as if she had all the time in the world.

Hey.

Nola glanced up. What?

Did you see the carnival across the road? he asked, still shoveling food in as fast as he could.

What carnival?

Over in the field. It must have come in last night sometime.

Nola got up and went into the living room, peering out the picture window. Through the fog and mist of the early morning, she could barely see across the dirt road. Pressing her face closer to the window, she squinted to make out a shape in the morning light. Blinking several times, she caught her breath and stepped back.

The Mida… she murmured.

She turned around and headed back to the kitchen. Tony watched her sit back down at the table and pick up her spoon again.

Grandma?

What?

What do you think about the carnival being there?

Well, what do you want me to say about it, Tony? It’s there; I saw it.

Yes, but what’s it doing there?

Waiting for customers, I guess. She started eating again, trying to change the subject. So, are you going to look for work this morning? I hear the feed store is hiring again.

For Christ’s sake, there’s a carnival across the road from our house. There’s a Ferris wheel and tents and everything. Tony pushed his bowl aside and stood up. Well, you might not care but I’m going to see what’s going on over there.

Nola glanced up quickly. What? Why?

I’m going over there and ask who gave them permission to set up.

Why do you care?

There’s been no advertising in the paper for a carnival coming to town. I don’t want those people across the street from us, Grandma. I don’t trust any of them. They steal, cheat, lie…

For heaven’s sake, Tony…

What? You know what those people are like. I want to know what they’re doing here. With that, he strode out of the kitchen.

But, Tony…

The door slammed and Nola watched him get into her brand-new 1952 Chevy and peel out of the driveway. Always in a hurry, she thought with a shake of her head. So much like his father.

Sighing, she got up to clear off the table. She took his sugar-laden oatmeal bowl over to the trash and scraped it out. Her grandson looked a lot like his mother, she thought, with his dark eyes and olive-colored skin; although he tended not to use the brains he was given. He’d given Nola cause to worry on several occasions when he got mixed up with the wrong people. She had to bail him out of trouble numerous times in the past.

Nola set the bowl in the sink and walked back into the living room to gaze out the window again toward the field across from her house. Most carnivals looked the same, thought Nola, but she knew this one was different. She’d recognized the slightly off colors and the way it suddenly appeared overnight. This county was too poor and thinly populated to support a carnival, and carnivals didn’t travel here in October.

Nola swallowed hard as she sank uneasily into the chair by the window.

Mesa was back.

CHAPTER 4

Mesa opened the door to her trailer to see herself at one end of an empty hayfield. Her snowy owl, Ahwanan, sat quietly on her shoulder where he’d spent most of the early morning hours. She’d been awakened when he returned to the trailer through its open window in the middle of the night. She had managed to get back to sleep, but had a restless night, something that occurred often when she knew they were headed for a new place.

The bird was restless, too, which explained why he’d gone out in the middle of the night to hunt and had decided to perch on her shoulder so early in the morning when he usually spent the morning preening in his cage. They had an unusual affinity, but she couldn’t always read him accurately. She knew someone who could, however, and decided to have a talk with him at her earliest convenience.

Mesa loved this time of day. Nature was just waking up and she filled her lungs with the clean, crisp air around her. The Mida was starting to come to life and people were heading to the carnival camp’s kitchen for their morning coffee. The smell of eggs and bacon filled her nostrils and encouraged her to put her young friend back in his cage.

She stepped back inside the little trailer and set her owl carefully on the windowsill. As she stepped out of the trailer, Connor was back again. She had heard him leave a few minutes earlier, probably to use the outdoor restroom, so he wasn’t on her steps when she’d came out before. Pulling the door shut, she turned around and nodded at him. He nodded back and she headed down the three steps, calling out a greeting to the men walking by Carlotta’s colorful tent. Connor got up to follow her, but paused when he heard a voice calling his name. Scowling, he turned around to answer but there was no one there. His eyes narrowed as he whirled all the way around, but he could see no one.

Norm, if this is some sort of game, knock it off, he growled impatiently, but there was no answer. He stood for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the camp. With a shrug, he glanced back at Mesa only to find she was heading toward the kitchen tent without him. He broke into a half-run and hurried to catch up. By the time Connor reached her, she was already in conversation with Frank.

Mesa eyed the eggs on the table behind Frank. Whatever it is, can’t it wait until I’ve had my breakfast?

He shook his head. Nope. There’s a guy here to see you.

Why?

He shrugged. He’s upset we’re here.

Mesa sighed. There was always one in every town. Where is he?

Over there.

Mesa turned to her left and saw a young man standing in the middle of the midway, looking decidedly uncomfortable. She watched him for a moment and then turned back to Frank.

I’ll deal with him and then I want to talk with you about Ahwanan.

Why?

Something’s not right. He left last night to hunt, which is unusual for him since he usually hunts in the daytime. Since he’s been back, he’s been agitated and making so much noise I had to finally get up and see to him. It took us forever to fall back to sleep again

And you want me to find out what’s wrong?

Yes.

It may have something to do with why we’re here.

I know. Mesa sighed and glanced back down the midway. Frank, I’m hungry. Can’t you deal with that guy this time?

He laughed and shook his head. You’re the boss, he reminded her and she grimaced.

She gave Frank a look and headed for the too-slender, dark-haired young man wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans. A pack of Camel cigarettes was rolled up in his left shirt sleeve, and his straight black hair was too long to be fashionable. He was so busy watching the activity around him; he didn’t see her until she was upon him.

Can I help you? she asked politely, giving him a smile.

He turned to look at her, and she froze. Then her smile dropped away as she caught her breath.

John?

Tony’s eyes narrowed and he shoved his hands in his pockets. The Native American woman wore blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, her work boots completing the ensemble. There was a ridiculous-looking straw hat perched precariously on her head. Her long, black hair fell well below her shoulders. She appeared to be in her 40’s, and looked too delicate to be in charge of anything. Tony wondered why she was sent to deal with him; he wanted to talk to the carnival owner, which he expected to be a man, of course.

He glanced behind her and noticed Connor. The short, overweight, bald man, whose bleached skin reminded Tony of a dead man, stood a few steps behind her, glaring. He wore a too-small, dirty white tee shirt and gray pants that hung sloppily below his belly. Tony ascertained he was the owner.

Bringing his eyes back to Mesa’s, he replied, John? No, I’m Tony. He glanced back at Connor then. I want to know what you’re doing here.

Excuse me? Mesa asked, taking a breath and quickly pulling herself together.

Tony frowned, not expecting her to answer. I’m talking to the owner, he replied, a quick tilt of his head indicating Connor. What’s the carnival doing here? Who brought you here? he asked, addressing Connor again.

You are.

Tony’s gaze moved back to hers. What?

You’re talking to the owner.

I know. Look, he said, dismissing her impatiently, my business is with him.

What business do you have with Connor? asked Mesa, surprised.

I don’t know anything about this, snapped Connor. Don’t know him, never seen him before in my life.

Tony sighed impatiently. He’s the carnival owner, right? I have some questions…

No.

No?

No, I’m the carnival owner, replied Mesa, crossing her arms defensively. What can I do for you?

You’re the owner.

Yes.

Are you kidding? You’re a woman.

Good observation.

Look…

What do you want? Connor interrupted, stepping next to Mesa now.

I want to know why the carnival’s here.

Why?

I want to know. What are you here for? he asked again sharply.

We’re a carnival, answered Mesa. We’re here for the people.

Who brought you here? I mean, who set the whole thing up?

Why does that matter? answered Connor.

Well, you’re set up right across the road from my house, and carnivals don’t set up in Iowa in October.

Mesa turned her gaze to the little house across the field from the carnival. A smile played around her lips. Nola must still live there, she thought. She turned back to Tony who was watching her curiously now.

Where do carnivals normally set up? she asked.

What? Well…I don’t know. We’re such a small town that we haven’t had one in quite a while.

I see. Well, it’s a good thing we’ve come then, huh? She searched his oh-so-familiar eyes with a faint smile. If that’s all, I think I’ll eat my breakfast now. She made herself start to walk away from him. Thank you for your interest, she called over her shoulder.

But… Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, watching her walk away. The short, bald man glared balefully at him and then fell into step behind her.

Realizing she hadn’t answered any of his questions, he stood there a moment, not knowing what to do. Noticing people were beginning to stare at him, he shrugged and slowly headed for the gate. He had better things to do than deal with these people.

CHAPTER 5

Frank was sitting at a table with Carlotta. The Cajun Wiccan wore a long, beautiful red dress that swirled around her shapely, coffee-colored legs. Her slender arms were bare except for the golden coiled arm band in the shape of a snake on her right arm. Her jet black hair was pulled into an up-do. She was the most beautiful woman in the carnival, and she knew it.

She also knew she could’ve been sitting there naked for all Frank cared, and it annoyed her to no end. Regardless of their past, he only had eyes now for the pretty Sarah, his wife of ten years.

Sarah was cooking up the last of the carnival breakfast. Almost everyone had gone through the line and people were getting seconds on their coffee now. She glanced up and saw Frank staring at her and she smiled at him.

Her husband wasn’t like other men, Sarah thought, as she turned off the cook stove and started to clean up around her. He was a serious, intense man who was always watching everything around him. And for some reason she couldn’t fathom, he appeared to have no interest in Carlotta.

Frank was the head of the carnies. He made sure everything ran the way it was supposed to, and when it was supposed to. He could fix anything and ran his carnies like a well-oiled machine. He took his job seriously; his main objective in life was to be sure the carnival was always in the best shape it could be in at all times. Everyone respected him.

Sarah glanced to her left and saw Mesa finishing up her eggs. Conner was sitting across from her as usual, rubbing his bald head with one hand and quietly drinking his coffee with the other. Sarah could see his scalp was starting to peel from the sun and she made a mental note to ask Carter to take a look at it later.

Glancing back over at her husband and Carlotta, she could see the woman trying to drape herself all over him again. As usual, her husband was pointedly ignoring her. After a few moments, Carlotta slammed down her coffee cup and stalked away. When Sarah looked up a moment later, she had disappeared.

She smiled to herself. Carlotta wasn’t used to being turned down. Frank was a brooding, passionate man, and she could understand what attracted Carlotta. His warm brown eyes were soft, and his long, brown hair curled just a little past his shoulders. It hadn’t seen a cut in a few months and Sarah mentally put that on her to-do list for later in the day.

For the hundredth time, she wondered what Frank saw in her when he could have the beautiful Carlotta. When he started courting her, he called Sarah his, delicate flower. Her green eyes and red hair made quite a contrast to the dark Carlotta. Her pale, almost translucent skin made her appear vulnerable and weak, but her husband hadn’t made the mistake of seeing her that way since the first argument they’d had as man and wife. He’d had a little too much to drink and accidentally called her, Carlotta. She’d turned and smashed him on the side of the head with an iron frying pan. Their fights were of epic proportions, and everyone ran for cover when her temper was aroused.

Sarah sat down with her breakfast as Frank sauntered over to her and plopped down on the bench next to her.

I see Carlotta’s up to her old tricks, mused Sarah, glancing over at him.

I didn’t notice.

Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t comment further, choosing instead to finish her breakfast.

Frank suppressed a smile at Sarah’s obvious irritation. He knew his wife by now and knew if he let her pursue the subject of Carlotta, he’d regret it.

Taking a bite of her food, Sarah glanced over at the cook stove. Oh no, something’s starting to burn. Not moving, Sarah gazed at the stove and the burner turned off with a click. The pan slid