July 9, 2005

Last Breath  
by Nathan Perrin &
Ode to Obscured Ancestors
​by Elise Maren

Click here to listen to this story on the Kaidankai podcast.


Author's Note: This story was written in consultation with a Sámi advisor (poet and activist Elise Maren) and includes elements of their spirituality. The Sámi are a Native tribe found in Norway, northern Sweden, Finland, and Russia's Kola Peninsula. Like all Native tribes, they faced colonization and genocide throughout their history. They continue to face discrimination to this day. For more information, visit https://www.samigeaidnu.com/ and read We Stopped Forgetting: Stories from Sámi Americans by Ellen Marie Jensen (can be found on the Everand site.)


Leif watched his father load the rifle slowly. It was a typical cold Norwegian morning.
Down the distance, a lone reindeer stood in the middle of the forest. It was bigger than Leif thought it would be in real life. 
His father shot a loving, knowing glance towards Leif's direction.
Memories of their conversation the night before echoed in Leif's mind.
"What about the Sámi and their relationship with the reindeer?" Leif asked.
"That's just superstition," his father laughed. "This is a right of passage. The Sámi have long since been conquered and taken over. It's the way of things with nature. The strong conquer the weak."
"But why the reindeer?"
"It's what my papa before did, and his papa too. It's what we do. We kill and hunt the reindeer to send a message to the Sámi "
"What's that message?"
"That we're the ones in control here." 
Leif closed his eyes and held his breath as the loud gunshot ran throughout the forest.
---
Leif's father grunted as he finished dragging the reindeer onto the back of his snowmobile. He smiled: "We're going to eat good tomorrow!"
Leif forced a smile, "Papa, what about the Sámi stories?"
"What stories?" his father tied down the large reindeer corpse.
"The stories about the forest being alive… about the spirits wandering around here."
Leif's father laughed again, "Son, most Sámi are Lutherans now. They don't believe in that nonsense, and neither should we. Nothing but campfire stories is all you're hearing."
Leif nodded and looked at the ground.
"Time to make dinner," Leif's father pointed back.
Leif looked at the reindeer corpse again. It was majestic, beautiful even. Why was it that his family tradition required him to participate in killing one?
---
Later that night, Leif and his father finished eating dinner.
"What are you thinking about?" Leif's father asked.
"I keep thinking about the reindeer in the back of the snowmobile," Leif shook his head. "It just seems unnecessary."
"It's the way of things."
"But why?"
Leif's father opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head.
"In time, you'll understand," Leif's father took out a tobacco pipe.
"If the reindeer are so important and vital to the Sámi, then why are we doing this to them?"
"Why not? They don't have ownership. The government takes care of them well enough! More than us, mind you."
"It seems like being a good neighbor, I think. Jesus would want us to respect that culture."
"What are they teaching you in Sunday school?" Leif's father laughed. "No, no… this land is ours now. We took it and claimed it. The Sámi should fight harder next time."
Leif wanted to ask what the next time was and if it was right that there needs to be a next time, but he knew better. His father didn't believe the same way Leif believed.
---
Leif woke up to his father cursing.
Stumbling out of his tent, Leif saw bloody hoof prints leading past the campfire. 
"It's impossible!" his father yelled.
"What is it, Papa?" Leif asked.
"I shot that reindeer clean in the face. Stabbed it. I watched it die. I saw the last breath." 
"Papa, maybe we should let it go. I want to go home."
His father shook his head, "That's the problem with boys in your generation! You'll never see a job through! No… we need to hunt this animal down and put it out of its misery. It's tradition."
Leif paused for a few moments, and thought about how strange it was that his father prided his own tradition but not the Sámi.
---
The hoofprints went on. And on. And on.
Leif was amazed at how long the day was, how determined his father felt in catching up to this reindeer. 
The snowmobile came to a stop, Leif's father stood up with the rifle.
"Where the hell did it go!" he yelled.
They were in the middle of an open field. The sun set in the distance.
Leif followed his father to where he stood. 
"That's impossible," his father whispered.
The bloody hoof tracks stopped.
"Where the hell did it go?" his father mumbled. 
"Papa, there's other reindeer and I'm getting hungry…"
"We're seeing this job through!" his father yelled. "We're coming back with the goddamn reindeer!"
Leif opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it.
---
Leif laid awake in the tent, watching his father's shadow tend to the fire outside.
Leif bit his lip, said his bedtime prayers. 
That's when a mysterious shadow suddenly darkened the tent. Leif's heart stopped. 
"Gotcha," Leif's father whispered. 
Leif heard the bolt in his father's rifle slide into place.
Leif covered his ears and closed his eyes, expecting the gunshot at any second. He felt his heartbeat quicken. 
But there was no gunshot.
Instead, Leif heard his father scream.
Leif opened his eyes and saw blood dripping down the tent walls. His father continued to scream. 
"Papa!" Leif yelled as he jumped and got dressed. 
He got out and saw Leif's father in a small pool of blood staring at the stars.
"Papa!" Leif screamed. "Papa!" 
His father's wet, gurgled breathing brought some assurance to Leif. Then he looked down and saw his father's stomach torn open. Leif gasped and scooted away. He blinked fast, trying to breathe in and out. 
Leif felt something squish underneath his right hand. He looked down and saw a blobby, red piece of flesh. Indistinguishable. Leif screamed and ran inside the tent. 
The big shadow cast him back into darkness. 
Leif squeezed his shut and said the Lord's Prayer as fast as he could. No, no, this couldn't be true. 
"Leif…" his father whispered.
Leif opened his eyes to see the shadow gone. He walked outside of the tent and saw his father pointing towards the sky. 
"Look," Leif's father's gurgled. 
Leif looked up and saw the Northern Lights in all their beauty - but something else was there. Hundreds, thousands maybe, of transparent reindeer were in the sky. Moving along at a rapid pace. Leif's mouth dropped.
"I'll be damned," Leif's father whispered. "I'll be damned."
Leif watched his father's breaths become less and less, until finally they were no more. His last breath was like smoke in the sky, going forever and ever into the dark.
"Papa!" Leif screamed. "Papa!"
He hit his father's chest a few times, no response.
Leif stood up and looked at the fire, feeling his pants become warm as he wet himself. Steam rose off his pants as his entire body trembled. 
He was alone. 
All alone. 
He looked up from his father's corpse and saw two red eyes looking at him.
"I'm not going to hurt you!" Leif yelled. "Please… please…"
The red eyes continued to stare at him. 
Leif nodded to himself and walked back into the tent. He figured if he closed his eyes, the reindeer would go away and this would all be a bad dream. 
---
When Leif woke up the next morning, he quickly gathered his things and headed towards the snowmobile. He saw that it had no gas left. He didn't know where he was.
That's when he heard a branch snap behind him.
Leif turned around and saw a bloodied reindeer staring at him.
"I'm not here to hurt you," Leif said. "Honest. It was my papa. I just want to go home."
Tears streaked down Leif's face. 
"Please… please… don't kill me."
The reindeer paused, and then Leif felt suddenly reassured in his spirit… like somehow the violence was over. The reindeer turned around and started walking. Leif bit his lip again, and decided to follow it. He left the rifle with his father's corpse. 
---
While Leif was calm, he was terrified and almost certain he would never see the rest of his family again. The reindeer kept walking a dozen feet ahead. 
All those campfire stories, those fearful things that went bump in the night… they were right.
The forest was alive. 
Leif looked up at the trees. He was suddenly aware of how many eyes were on him. The shadows, the spirits. They were all watching his every move.
Just as they've done for eons. 
"You're just about out," said a voice behind him.
Leif turned around and saw a man dressed in colonial era clothes. Blood dripped from his forehead. 
"You're just about out," the voice continued.
"Who are you?" Leif asked.
The man shook his head, turned around, and walked away.
"You're just about out," the man repeated. 
Leif looked to the sky and then looked back down.
The man was gone.
Leif's body trembled again.
Where was he going?
Was he ever going to see home again?
---
An hour later, Leif stood on the edge of a town he wasn't familiar with. The hoof tracks led him there. The reindeer wasn't in sight. His whole body still trembled, waiting for the reindeer to pop out and finish him. 
Leif saw an emergency phone booth alongside the road. He walked up towards it, dialed the police, and sat down.
How was he going to explain what happened?
The police, his family, his friends… how was he going to explain it all?
The sirens from the police cars coming towards Leif reminded him of the Northern Lights. Leif wondered if his father was up there too with the reindeer, and if he would see his father again when Leif died. When Leif someday drew his last breath that will go forever into the dark, would his father be waiting? Would he be in the dark forever?
He now knew there was… something after death. 
More than most people knew.
---
A month later, Leif sat in his family's Lutheran church.
His mother, still deep in grief, wept and wept about his father.
Leif's mouth trembled as he shook his head.
He looked up again and for a brief few seconds thought he saw red eyes. He screamed and shook his head.
Embarrassment flooded Leif's body as soon he saw they were reflections of the EXIT sign off the pillar next to him. 
Everyone in the church started at him.
---
An hour later, Leif sat across from the Lutheran pastor in his office.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" the pastor asked.
Leif shook his head.
"It's okay… I know you've been having a hard time."
Leif sighed and made eye contact with the pastor, "Why did the Lutherans colonize the Sámi? Doesn't that go against the teachings of Jesus?"
"Yes, it does," the Lutheran pastor nodded.
"How do we make it right?" Leif asked.
"What do you mean?"
"How do we…" 
Leif broke into tears.
The pastor stared at Leif for a few seconds. The pastor got up from behind his desk and knelt next to Leif.
"We make it right by respecting their land and their traditions… by understanding we can't take what's not ours… what does this have to do with….?"
Leif shook his head, "I don't… I don't…" 
"Do you miss your father?"
"Yes."
"He believed differently, didn't he?"
Leif nodded.
"That's a beautiful thing about being your own soul. You can be different. You don't have to be like him."
Leif nodded again.
"Will I ever be forgiven?" Leif whispered. 
"Yes," the pastor nodded. "You're a child. God understands. Just keep moving forward and continue to repair the world."
The pastor hugged Leif as he wept. 
---
Leif never told a soul what happened. He described his father's death as a mysterious accident. There was no further investigation into it - some folks thought his father committed suicide. There were times in Leif's childhood where his pastor would make eye contact during a sermon, almost as if the pastor knew. But nothing was ever really confirmed 
Several decades later, Leif lay on his deathbed. The rest of his family gathered around him, wife, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren. Memories of the hunting trip ran through his mind. 
After his family said their tearful goodbyes in the hospice room, Leif stared into the dark. That's when he heard heavy breathing.
His eyes searched the room. In the corner was the very same reindeer he saw decades ago. It walked up to him slowly and looked over his dying body. Leif reached out to touch the reindeer's fur. He no longer felt terror, but something light. Like mercy. 
"I know it's my time," Leif whispered. "But I want you to know… whatever happens next… I did my best to change. I'm not my father. I did that much. I tried to help repair the world."
The reindeer looked at him for a few seconds, backed away, and then disappeared.
Leif stared at the dark ceiling and saw the Northern Lights again with transparent reindeer. It was just as beautiful as the night his father died. As Leif drew his last breath, he felt his spirit ascend into the Northern Lights. From stardust he rose, to dirt he returned. His borrowed breath was reunited with the wind. Dust to dust. ​

****

​Ode to Obscured Ancestors
by Elise Maren

Some may say you are no matter
As if you did not leave these delicate traces of fjords under my eyes.
The dips and valleys carved into my skin.
I am asked why I appear so weary, yet I remain proud.
 
Perhaps they result from miles traveled each day:
Footsteps of a nomadic life lost.
The most I’ll run is around the lake,
But I store more endurance within.
 
I hail all strength from my fragile grandmother.
She had twig arms with a rugged Norse demeanor,
Eyes brighter than the aurora,
And a smile that cracked like lightning.
 
A loud connection between generations
Despite little to no depiction of our history.
Yet, with every breath of my harmonic prayers,
I sway to your stories in song.

                                                               💀💀💀

Nathan Perrin (he/him/his) is a published author and Anabaptist pastor in Chicagoland. He holds an MA in Quaker Studies, and is a doctoral student studying Christian Community Development at Northern Seminary. His doctorate work centers on creating a writing program for nonprofits and churches to use to help under-resourced communities process trauma. His work has been published in the Dillydoun Review, Bangalore Review, Collateral Journal, Esoterica Magazine, etc. His forthcoming novella Memories of Green Rivers will be released in winter 2026 by Running Wild Press. He is also a screenwriter for an unannounced indie comedy series. For more information, visit www.nathanperrinwriter.com
Elise Maren is a medical student and proud Minnesotan residing in Chicago, IL. She contributes to Lavender Magazine, Minnesota's 2SLGBTQ+ magazine, and runs an advice column called Ask Elise. She is proud of her Sámi and Methodist traditions. When not doing science or art, Elise is a fervent environmentalist. Please check out decompose.org for more information about Elise and her nonprofit work."