Grace Before Dying

by M. L. Bullock

  I pulled the curtain closed again and made sure the door was locked as if that would stop a ghost, or an entity, from entering Seven Sisters. “What do you mean? Loud how?”

  AJ rubbed his nose with his fingers. He avoided making eye contact and I could see that this conversation made him uncomfortable. “He screams and says bad words. I don’t want to sleep in my room. I don’t like my room anymore.”

  “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, AJ. I promise I won’t leave you until you’re good and asleep.” I tousled his hair just like I saw Aunt CJ do a hundred times. She was a notorious hair tousler. It used to bother me, but I liked it now. Unless I was headed to school and then I didn’t like it so much.

  “It won’t help. I don’t want to go to sleep. Never.” I noticed the dark bags under my younger cousin’s eyes.

  “I know how dreams can be scary, but you can’t avoid them. You just can’t. I tell you what I will do. I’ll dream with you, how about that? We can dream together and if the scary boy comes around again he can deal with me.”

  “Okay. I can do that. Thank you, Lily. You are my best friend. People say boys can’t be friends with girls, but I don’t believe them,” he said as he grabbed my hand again. See? I didn’t mind holding his hand. He needed me. Hand holding was for helping people who needed it; it wasn’t for romantic things.

  “Whoever told you that is an igmo. Don’t believe it. You can have all the friends you want, boys or girls, Ashland James. Girls make great friends. It doesn’t make you a girl because you have a friend that is a girl.”

  “Oh.” We walked back into his room and closed the bedroom door. His star light was casting lovely shapes all over his walls and ceiling. “What’s an igmo?”

  “An igmo is a nincompoop.”

  “Oh. I’m not that.”

  I smiled at him and sighed as we hunkered down in his bed. “Sorry. I didn’t say you were an ignoramus. You are AJ the Brave. Now let’s go to sleep... and remember, I’m right there with you. There’s no reason to be afraid. I’ve got your back, Jack.”

  “Okay, but don’t scare me.”

  I knew what he was referring to and I was guilty as charged. A few months ago I scared him in a dream. I didn’t mean to walk into it, but it was so easy, AJ was such an open dreamer. His dream self was bouncing a ball down the stairs when I popped out of my room and said, “Boo!”

  He woke up screaming, but he never ratted me out to Aunt CJ. She didn’t know that I traveled in and out of everyone’s dreams, or that I scared him from time to time. Sometimes I couldn’t help it; other times I did it on purpose.

  I felt bad about it, but I was curious about my abilities. I didn’t want to be afraid of going to sleep. Poor AJ. He was terrified of this ghost boy.

  And I was about to find out why.

  Chapter Four--White Fire

  “Speak now, daughter. Name the father before it is too late. I cannot allow you to stay in my tent if you do not tell me the name. I am the chief, the leader of our people. I must know whose blood runs in this child’s veins.” My father, the one they called Old Face, leaned in close. The smoke from the fire and his pipe tobacco combined to make strange, thick incense that sickened me. Unlike many women, my sickness did not go away as my belly grew. The nausea continued even unto this day. I had become skin and bones in recent months; unable to hunt or do the simplest of chores. The seed that had been planted in me stole my strength. I was only able to keep down a few berries and nuts. I drank nothing but water which never quenched my ferocious thirst.

  Was I bearing a child of fire? My mother claimed that I was such a child. I remembered her stories and why she named me White Fire. I, too, had burned within her making her thirsty and sick. How I longed to see her face! But the smoke revealed nothing. Rather than offering the spirits of my ancestors the sacred smoke to summon their blessing, the smoke threatened to smother me. It would strangle me and my son before he could take his first breath.

  My strength waned and I closed my eyes as I grunted in pain. Would I survive this birthing? Would I live to see the face of my child? A child of power and fire? Before this night I questioned every day if I would love this baby. If I would be able to look upon it and care for it as a mother would. Now with my own life hanging in the balance, I knew that I would. I knew that I would love my child and I would do anything to protect him.

  Even face banishment.

  A surge of protective rage coursed through my body. I would have no protection, no husband to provide for me while I recovered. I was a notable huntress in my own right--I could bring down a buck with a single arrow. I was the envy of many women, but like all of my kind, this pregnancy left me at a disadvantage. There would be no hunt for me, no gathering of roots or berries. I was and would be weak like a mewling kitten. One that can easily be drowned in a bucket.

  My swollen belly heaved as I writhed on the blanket beneath me. There would be a soul born this night, a new member of the tribe. My son! Let it be a son to continue the line of my father, a brave child that would lead us back to pleasant lands.

  I would never tell my father the identity of my son’s father, although I loved Old Face with all my might. Gray Cloud would have no claim to him, nor would I allow him to succeed in his evil plan to make me his wife and take the tribe away from my father.

  It was for me to name Gray Cloud, or whoever I liked to be the father of my son, but I would choose no one. That is how it was with our tribe. Women had this power at least. If I did not name Gray Cloud as his father, he would not be so. Let him have regret. Let him have heartache! Let me have my revenge! Let it be, oh heavens.

  The pain grew greater by the minute. It came in shocking waves, each twisting of my belly worse than the last. Old Face’s new and young wife Kinta waved her hand over me, apparently to bless me. I swatted her dirty hand away. I wanted none of her foreign blessings, none of her ministrations. She was not of our tribe, not of our people. I resented that she, too, carried a child- one that threatened to take my place as sole and celebrated child of Old Face.

  “Away with you!” I wanted to be alone in my agony, as I always was alone. At my request, she crawled away and sat at the far side of my father’s large tent.

  “Speak it now, White Fire. Name the father. Before it is too late! Your waters have broken and the time to declare the truth is now. There is nothing to be done after this. I cannot help if you do not speak, daughter. ” My father’s gentle tone did not melt my resolve. I would have no husband — certainly not Gray Cloud although I understood that to be his greatest wish. But he did not love me. He never loved me and I knew Gray Cloud’s great secret. I belong to no tent, except for my father’s. I wondered from time to time if I should confide in my father, but he was a man of honor. He would never agree to deny my lover his right as a father. Worse still, he would never believe that Gray Cloud plotted against him or that he took a lover, a male lover over me. He would always deny that truth. But he could not deny what I had seen with my own eyes.

  My fate rested in my father’s mercy. It was a perilous risk. He had a new wife and it was her right to reject me if she were so inclined. I had misjudged Kinta, the wife of Old Face. She made it known in recent days that she, the honored wife of the chief, did not want to share a tent with her husband’s grown daughter. She, too, would have a child soon and there would be no room. Kinta did not care that I was a mighty huntress, or that I can provide food better than most men. She wanted my father all to himself. No longer would I be Old Face’s most beloved.

  Kinta stole his love away from me. Just as No Name stole away Gray Cloud’s love.

  Gray Cloud had rejected me for his lover No Name. To make my heartbreak even deeper, No Name would never be Gray Cloud’s wife. He would never have a place in Gray Cloud’s tent, not officially, but he had his heart, and his body, and his affections. I had seen them kissing passionately, falling on the ground together on more than one occasion. I wondered how many others knew? Probably many, but G
ray Cloud was such a favorite of my father's that no one spoke about their love openly. Not even my cousin and closest friend, Tall Feathers.

  His betrayal broke me into many pieces. As many pieces as the stars above us that single night we coupled in the ancient woods. His dark blue-black hair fell around me covering me like a promise. Had I known he was toying with me, working a plot of some sort, I would’ve stabbed him in the heart. But it was he that stabbed me and my heart would always be pierced by his treachery.

  Kinta grunted in her crude language and Old Face nodded as he sucked on his pipe. “Tell me now, daughter. I, your chief and your father, command it. The grandchild of Old Face should not be raised in shame without name or honor. This should not be. You know what it is like, you have seen with your own eyes. To be called No Name is a shameful thing.” My father’s eyes watered, but from the smoke or his grief, I could not say.

  “I will name him! I will name him myself! It is my right. Oh…” I smothered a scream as another twisting of my womb threatened me.

  “He will have no name. He will have no name. And that is my right. Speak now, White Fire. Speak now so I may love and accept your child. So you may remain with me. My wife Kinta insists. Do not make me choose between you.” My father’s pain-filled eyes focused on mine. How could I explain it to him? To signal to him what I was doing? I could not name my lover, for he would claim me as his wife and he would claim my son, and therefore he would be chief. When my father passed all would belong to him and I would rather die than see that happen.

  Gray Cloud! You have stained my soul and stolen my heart. Now you steal my father’s love from me! I will make you pay, Gray Cloud. I will bring you to your knees!

  Yes, Gray Cloud knew the baby belonged to him. I did not bother denying it. I had lain with no other man. Many tried, but I have refused them all. But he had no genuine love for me. I discovered that quickly enough. Only the next night I attempted to find him again, to steal another kiss, to feel his hard body against mine. He’d scolded me and sent me away. But I hadn’t gone far. I lurked in the woods as Gray Cloud met his true love, No Name. A man born to shame.

  Gray Cloud’s preference crushed me. I could only watch for a few seconds, but it was enough to know that what we had done together meant nothing. I wept as I traveled deeper into the woods to plead with my ancestors for direction. I cried even harder remembering our brief night together. It had been the moment I dreamt of all my young life. Gray Cloud was the bravest of all the young men. He was tall, exceptionally so with blue-black hair and a captivating smile, one that allowed your heart to trust it.

  We encountered one another well past the campfire and it was as if we had been destined to meet there. The cedars, oaks, and pines creaked around us, swaying in the gentle breeze. A sapphire sky held glittering stars in place. The crisp air heightened my senses and when we drew close to one another we paused, but neither of us backed away.

  And to think I had believed Fate drew us together.

  I had always loved Gray Cloud. From a child until that night in the woods. Everyone said--everyone knew-- that we were destined for one another. I was the daughter of Old Face, the chief of our tribe, and Gray Cloud, the bravest of all warriors. We were meant to be together. Or so I had believed. Not anymore. I would never have the betrayer as a husband. I would never claim him as a father to my child, although he demanded it on more than one occasion.

  “Tell me, daughter.”

  Smoke covered my father’s face and then I could see him no more…

  My soul traveled up, hovering above my body. I could see everything, Kinta secretly cursing me, my father pleading with my limp body. My child struggling to emerge into this cruel world.

  And at that moment, I had a decision to make. Leave and take my son with me…ah yes, I would have a son. Or I could return and find my kind of justice against my betrayer. My mother called me, a white light emerged from above me. From it emitted love, endless love, but the scene below me kept me transfixed.

  A voice from somewhere demanded an answer. Choose now!

  Without speaking a word I did choose. My mother screamed my name, the light vanished and I was flung back into my body, the pain worse than before. But I knew I would not die. Not until I had what I wanted.

  I made my choice. I chose revenge!

  Chapter Five—Carrie Jo

  I woke up with a pounding headache and the memory of White Fire’s pain burned into my heart and mind. The revelations I witnessed in the dream blew me away. White Fire had a baby? Gray Cloud was the father? How had any of us missed this information? How could I be so shortsighted? Old Face hadn’t followed through on his threat to banish her because she was a part of the tribe when her father died. Too many questions.

  White Fire wasn’t through with us yet, apparently.

  Like everyone else involved in the Gracefield haunting, I believed that White Fire cursed Gray Cloud because she wanted to rule her father’s tribe. But there was more to that heartbreaking story than a mere struggle for power. A baby had been involved. Did the reappearance of the painted stone in my office indicate that Amara was in danger? As far as I knew White Fire had never come to Seven Sisters yet I had stepped into a dream with her. The warrior’s domain had always been Gracefield, the land of her people. It was only because of my connection to Amara Cooper — we were both dream catchers- that I understood, on a spiritual level what was happening

  “Amara!” Her name came to my lips as Ashland stirred beside me. No doubt I would have to call her to make sure she was safe and to verify my suspicions. White Fire was reaching out to the living and Amara, as her direct ancestor, could be in danger. Vengeful spirits like her did not always think reasonably, or graciously, or mercifully.

  And now I understood why. At least a little more.

  I glanced at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand; it was too early to call Amara, but I would have to soon. Probably once I got the kids off to school. I wouldn’t have time before that. An email wouldn’t be enough and she wasn’t great at returning those. A text message was too impersonal for this subject matter.

  Fifteen minutes until the alarm went off. Fifteen minutes to think about the dream and enjoy the stillness. Snuggled in my cozy bed with my husband and the silent house around us, I wasn’t eager to leave this peaceful moment. The children would be up and stirring soon, but I wanted to share what I’d seen with Ashland. He twitched slightly, a remnant of an old injury that I didn’t want to think about. I knew him well enough to know that he was faking sleep. Like me, he probably didn’t want to surrender to the busy day ahead of us, but this was our life and it was a good one.

  “Ashland, I know you’re playing possum. Trust me, they won’t just go away.”

  He brushed his blonde hair out of his sleepy blue eyes and smiled at me. “You think so? I didn’t sleep too well last night. You were all over the place, babe. You smacked me pretty good too.” He slid closer to me, a playful gleam in his eye. I could see he wasn’t too upset about his restless night of sleep. He had something else on his mind. Something else altogether. I wasn’t averse to the idea.

  “Sorry about that, Ash. I was dreaming. I mean for real dreaming.

  Ashland’s hands reached for me and I didn’t play coy. How long had it been since he and I had been together-together? More than a week. Maybe even two. Not like us at all. I welcomed his touch.

  Ashland kissed my neck and not so gently; I held him close and sighed with pleasure. Hell, yeah. I knew where this was going--if we had enough time. I was all for it! That was always the thing nowadays, we rarely had Carrie Jo and Ashland time. I loved that our family was so busy and happy. And that our social life was full and that the business was growing. However, Ashland and I couldn’t lose ourselves in the midst of it all. My hands were all over his smooth skin. There wouldn’t be much time for foreplay, but I could live with that. My need for him grew by the second.

  So much for having a serious conversation. We continued t
o kiss one another and hastily removed our clothing. Neither one of us wanted to lose a minute of stolen time, but unfortunately, this would not be a long interlude. Our kids kept us on a tight schedule, like a dang train schedule. Up at 7:00 AM, at school by 7:45 AM and the weekends were even crazier.

  “Remind me to tell you about my dream later,” I said absently between kisses.

  “Sure, babe,” he purred against me. “I hope you were dreaming about me.”

  I pulled him as close as I could get him. “Always, Ash,” I whispered to him as we continued to paw at one another like two teenagers making out in the backseat of a car.

  “Me too. I dream about you too, Carrie Jo,” he groaned as we began to furiously make love. It was frantic and exciting and over far too quickly, out of the necessity of course. But it would be enough for now. At least we managed to sneak in a bit of intimacy into our crazy schedule. We had barely begun to snuggle when there was a light tapping on the door. I knew that tapping--that was definitely AJ. Lily never came to our room first thing in the morning.