So, we've all danced the dance of anger. Mine involved throwing the book around and then dying horribly in our Star Wars Saga Edition test run. I must say, that was much more fun. There's something very satisfying about role-playing, even when there's a two year old stealing your miniatures and almost breaking your roommate's chair.
Cole has danced his dance of anger, and now he goes to carve out his anger dance on the totem. Unfortunately he doesn't know how to carve: I'm sorry and I've learned how to forgive. But then again it's an abstract concept. Abstract concepts are, by their very nature, hard to put into concrete form. That is why they're abstract. I imagine that there is some sort of symbolic way of doing it, but then it would have to be extremely personal for each person and not necessarily universal.
When Edwin shows up next, Cole tells him that he danced the dance of anger. He tells Edwin that "Being angry is giving someone else control of my feelings so they own me. Forgiving gives me control again." And that is the biggest cock and bull I've ever heard or read. Being angry has nothing to do with giving someone control of your feelings. At least, not in the way that Cole is talking about it. You can get angry by someone setting you off. But that's not giving them control of your feelings. It's a reaction. Although, now I have this image of Peter with Cole on a leash. Hee. He then goes on to say that he has to help Peter and that before that he can't heal or carve in the missing bit in the totem pole. Because we all know that finishing the totem is the most important thing he has to do. Edwin tells him that he needs to help Peter or else it will eat at him. Cole wants to know what if he can't help Peter. Edwin says that he needs to find someone he can help then. And this is why Garvey and Edwin have helped Cole. OOoOOooo... MYSTERIOUS PAST!!
Summer passes. Cole carves more. He dances the dance of the storm. September comes, he see the Salmon, he dances the dance of the Salmon. He sees the Spirit Bear every few days. It turns to winter. He spends a lot of time in his little hut. He's alone. Very alone. So very alone. He has no one to speak to. He's cold and lonely. He wonders about things. Or so we're told. We don't see him do anything.
I rather like this line here, "With his activities strictly limited by winter's harsh winds and bitter cold, Cole noticed his body falling into new natural rhythms. He found himself moving at a deliberate place, without rushing. He slept when he was tired and ate only when he was hungry." Mostly, my question is: What does winter have to do with that? I mean, it seems pretty normal to me. You sleep when you're tired and eat when you're hungry. Do normal people eat when they're tired and sleep when they're hungry? I'm not sure what the point of these sentences are.
Christmas comes. He makes himself a little tree, being considerate enough to cut one that would probably die anyway. Isn't it nice? He's become a naturalist!
We learn, after Christmas, that Peter isn't doing any good. He's depressed and not getting out of bed and is under heavy medication. Speaking from personal experience, a lot of times when I'm under heavy meds, I have a hard time getting out of bed too. Cole worries about Peter.
Edwin comes back and tells Cole that Peter tried to commit suicide. Why?
"If someone is treated as if his lief is worthless, he begins to believe it."
"But his life isn't worthless," Cole protested.
Edwin stood, and with one motion opened the door and flung the last of his hot chocolate outside.
"I never told him he was worthless," Cole argued.
"Smashing his head on a sidewalk is a funny way of telling Peter he's valuable. "
"That was a mistake," Cole pleaded.
I'm sure you have your own commentary to put here. Edwin leaves, Cole crying out that he wants to help, and what can he do to help. Edwin gets in the boat and Cole cries out that he knows how to help Peter. His idea? Bring Peter to the island.
As Cole watched the boat disappear into the rain, picked up a strand of kelp off the shore and gave it a hard fling. Maybe Edwin was right and nothing could help Peter. But maybe if Peter came to the island, he would see how much things could change. Peter was probably terrified; that was why he needed this place. He could visit the pond. He could carry the ancestor rock and carve his own totem. He could dance, and maybe even see the Spirit Bear himself. More important, Cole could prove to Peter that this island held no monsters.
Let us look at this. Cole thinks that bringing Peter to the place where his attacker is, in the middle of the buttfuck of nowhere is going to be helpful, is going to make him less afraid of living. I would think that people were going to try and kill me, personally. Plus, what makes Cole even think that what worked for him, would work for Peter. After all, Cole was sent there to deal with his anger issues not his, I'm worthless because some bastard pounded my face into paste issues. But then again, I forget, this is the magical cure all. Soak in a pond. Roll a rock around. Carve a totem. See the "Spirit Bear". It's the new therapy. I bet Edwin and Garvey make a mint off of it. The Spirit Bear is really just some poor bear they dyed white and release occasionally on the island for Cole to see. Every thing's just a big sham and Edwin and Garvey are laughing it up somewhere.
Edwin comes back. He wants to know what Cole was blathering about. We leave on another cliff hanger! *GASP!*
|Touching Spirit Bear|
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