What the Moon Saw by Laura Resau

spirit of the stream might capture me, too. I looked around for a sign of Ta’nu’s spirit animal, a deer with eight white spots. No deer to be seen. Perhaps the spirit of the stream had pulled the deer under its frothing waves. Ta’nu and his deer spirit had been rescuing souls all their lives. So what could I, a little girl, do?
    There I lingered, at the edge of the woods, hoping the spirit of the stream wouldn’t notice me. Then, below me, a noise. A rustle in the underbrush.
    It was the shiny form of a jaguar! His spots shimmered like tiny moons, and he stood so close underneath me I could nearly touch his powerful shoulders. He looked up. Moonlight glinted in his eyes. Then, in one swift motion, he loped over to the stream and lapped at it with his tongue.
    The stream spirit froze. The black pools of his eyes filled with fear. He backed away, downstream.
    I watched the jaguar. Water dripped from his jaws. He looked straight at the stream spirit, opened his mouth, and let out a cry. A cry that ripped through the night like lightning.
    In a flash, the spirit of the stream disappeared underwater.
    Now was my chance. I descended from the leaves. Little by little I moved toward Ta’nu. His eyes held terror. Terror was something I’d never seen there before.
    I looked at the girl. Her spirit body was thin and trembling. First I loosened the knots at Ta’nu’s wrists. All the time I felt the eyes of the jaguar behind me. And I realized something. I realized he was not stalking me. No, he was guarding me, protecting me.
    Untangling took a long time. Imagine the worst tangle you’ve ever gotten in your hair, how much patience you need to smooth it out. Then, after the soul strings were untangled, it took all my strength to heave aside the rocks. One big push on the last rock, and there, Ta’nu was free. He kissed my forehead, then helped me let the girl loose. How fast he was! His fingers were well practiced—quick and nimble like a weaver’s. Soon enough, the girl was free too. She shook out her arms, and a trace of a smile came to her face.
    I looked back at the jaguar. Still, he was watching me. His gaze was steady and tender, as a mother looks at her baby. How can a jaguar have tenderness, you wonder. A creature that weighs more than a man, that kills its prey with a single bite through the skull. A creature that dwells in secret places, where people never see. But I tell you, this jaguar looked at me with a fierce tenderness. I had no fear.
    The jaguar took a last lap at the stream, then, with a flick of his long tail, turned and sauntered off into the forest. Into the thick foliage he went, where sunlight doesn’t pass, where even moonlight doesn’t pass.
    Ta’nu and I held tightly to the girl’s hands. Together we flew back over the trees, across the hills, into the yellow glow of the hut.

    The next morning, the girl and her parents left for their village. They gave us a sack of
pitayas
—cactus fruit—as payment. Outside in the morning sunshine, Ta’nu and I ate them together. We leaned against a tree, worn out as old sandals, tired from the long night. Tired but content, eating the sweet fruit. One after another we ate the
pitayas,
our fingers sticky with red juice.
    “Ita, little one,” Ta’nu said. “You saved us last night. Thank you.”
    His words made me flush with pride.
    But then he sighed. “Who knows how the stream spirit caught me? He sucked my deer spirit underwater and carried her downstream so she could not help me. Even so, I shouldn’t have been caught. Oh, perhaps I am too old…perhaps it is nearly time….” His voice dwindled. “Still, Ita, you have much to learn before your next soul flight.”
    “Why, Ta’nu?” I wanted to fly again, soon.
    “Soul flights are dangerous, very dangerous, my child.”
    “When can I go again?” I pressed.
    “You know your spirit animal now. You must thank him. That way he will always protect you.”
    Ta’nu sliced open