On the Road with Maggie Scratch, Blue Lake, California

blue_lake_ca_humboldt_country_land_2240_000000_acre_blue_lake_2840090439932789927P.P. Goldfeather

He picked up my backpack and walked with his arm around my waist. He opened the car door for me and it felt like he was carrying me over the threshold. I floated into the bucket seat. “Ready?” he slid in and turned the key in the ignition. We drove along the coast for a while. I barely noticed the Pacific Ocean. It was just down there. I knew I was being carried above it by a careful driver. The VW bug puttered, P.P. hummed along with a twangy tune on the radio and turned inland. We started going through some very tall trees. It was different, greener, denser, darker. I asked P.P. where we were going. He turned the radio down. “Blue Lake,” he said. “That’s where we live, Little Maggie. That’s where we’ve got the teepee.”

Maggie Scratch


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