Grace Before Dying

by M. L. Bullock

  Stepping back into Gracefield was a surreal moment. Unlike Seven Sisters, I didn’t have pleasant memories about this place. Nothing to offset the fear and sheer terror that struck me. Usually, my curiosity ruled out any fear, but today was a bit different. This could be dangerous and I had to let them know that.

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Gennifer. Any friend of Amara’s is a friend of mine, but I hope you realize that what we plan to do is a bit different. There are forces at work on this land, on this property, that command our attention. We might be in for a serious spiritual battle because I just experienced activity not a hundred yards from this front door.”

  Amara had made the front room into a comfortable space. Unlike Seven Sisters where most of the meeting rooms were off side hallways and connected by sliding doors, Gracefield had a different vibe to it. Except for this large open space, the rooms down here were more compartmentalized. Smaller, more traditional style rooms that didn’t have the same kind of airy feeling to them. Maybe I was just partial to my own home. I did have true reservations about including a stranger in our dream walk. This would certainly slow things down a little bit.

  “I want to be here for Amara. I promise I won’t be in the way. I think I might be able to help with this if you let me.” Gennifer’s pretty, round, face appeared hopeful- but I wasn’t sure if she knew what she was asking.

  “Pardon me for being blunt, but what exactly has Amara told you? Does your friend know why I’m here?”

  “I told her everything. She knows about the Widow Maker and White Fire. She understands that it’s my ancestor that is haunting this place. I told her about the dreams we’ve been having, and about the baby.”

  I caught my breath at her confession. “You too? Did you see where she took him?”

  “That is always hidden from me. We’ll have to go together, I think. Together we’ll be strong enough to push back against Old Face and Kinta. It is their magic, their power, that is keeping White Fire away. I can already feel his anger. I can’t describe it, but I know that it’s true.”

  Gennifer’s face softened as she held Amara’s hand again. Okay, even I could see that these two were an item. “What do we need to do? I’m not a stranger to the supernatural I trained as a Reiki master. I know about energy, I know how to move it. I’m not a dreamer like you two, but I’m not afraid and I refuse to let you walk into danger by yourself.” With a good squeeze of her hand, Gennifer released her and began to dig in her purse. “I brought these. You two have seen hematite before... this is a little like that. These stones will help us push back negativity. I want both of you to put one in your pocket. And while you’re dreaming, or meditating, or whatever it is you’re going to do, I will stay focused on sending energy to those stones. I guess that’s all I can do. Unless you have some idea of how I can help. But I do have a question. I meant to ask you this earlier, Amara, but we moved on to other things.”

  Amara said, “Ask me anything.”

  “If White Fire is your ancestor why isn’t that enough? She has to know that you are her descendant and that her son survived, or else you wouldn’t be here. I’m not sure how we’re supposed to appease her if we don’t know what she truly wants. Is she looking for his body? Something else?”

  “I don’t know. I thought everything ended, but then I began to dream and so did Carrie Jo. When Gray Cloud found his freedom I believed this was done too. It’s not, I can’t rest and neither can Carrie Jo. I guess if I wanted to be mean spirited about it, pardon the bad pun, I could call someone like Reagan, she’s a medium. She could banish her from the property, but then again, she’s my relative. White Fire is my ancestor. I don’t want her to spend the rest of eternity unhappy. Not if I can do something about it.”

  She put her purse back on the floor beside her.

  “Are you two related? Or is this just a dream catcher thing? Am I asking too many questions? I’m sorry. I’m nervous and curious at the same time.”

  “Not too many questions at all, but time isn’t on our side. I know where we have to go for this walk, Amara. It’s back in those woods, where I stopped the car. I saw White Fire. The air is thinner there if you know what I mean. That spot is important. I’m not sure how you can help, Gennifer, but you’re welcome to tag along.”

  “I think I’ll stay here and just work on energy. If that’s okay. On second thought, I don’t want to be in the way. You two know what you’re doing. I trust you both to do what’s right.”

  I thanked her for her generosity even though I didn’t know what to say to her. She had a kind vibe and I liked that, but dreaming and dream-walking could be the stuff of nightmares for the uninitiated. I was glad she decided to hang back.

  “No time like the present,” Amara announced as she rose from the couch. “The sooner we go, the sooner we come home. Keep that good energy coming our way, Gennifer.”

  “Will do,” the blonde answered with a half-smile. “How long do these dream walks usually take? An hour? Two? When should I worry? Should I call someone if you don’t come back soon?”

  It was my turn to do some reassuring. “It won’t take long. If we go in and see we can’t help, or that the case is more complicated than we expected, we’ll come back. I promise. No more than an hour. Here’s my cell phone. If we’re delayed, call him. He’s the only one that will understand any of this. Thanks, Gennifer.” I gave her my cell phone and together the three of us walked to the front door.

  We didn’t repeat our goodbyes or add anything else to the solemnity of the moment. There was no more time for formalities. No more time for waiting. I was here for Amara, for a fellow dream catcher.

  I opened the door as I pondered whether to make the walk down or take my car. Probably just walk. It wasn’t that far. But as I stepped outside, Amara took my hand and the decision was made.

  No need to make the quarter-mile hike.

  We were already there.

  Chapter Sixteen—Carrie Jo

  I heard the drumming before I heard the warning. A soft drum, made of skin and the tapping was expertly offered to whoever it was intended to entertain.

  You may not come here. You do not belong…

  “Amara?” The scenery was unusual. Not a honey-hued dream that I preferred, but grey and black and white. There were leaves everywhere; they were falling from the massive tree limbs that shook above us. Yes, with every tap of the drum the leaves shook with tiny vibrations as if the leaves were connected to the drum. Like they were the same.

  “I am here.” Amara’s voice was as clear as a bell. Thank goodness.

  “What do you see?”

  “Black leaves on the ground and I hear a drum, I think.” A rustling in those black, crunchy leaves drew my attention away. I couldn’t believe what I saw—a large deer, a buck, stalked in front of us. His eyes were alive, like a living deer’s. Dark brown and soft. But his body was not brown or tan, but black. Completely black. His antler rack was tall, I counted twelve prongs and they were white. As white as the moon. He eased along the path and disappeared into the gray smoke that gathered in the woods. Ah yes, I could smell the incense again too. “And a deer. Did you see that?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I can’t say why that was important, but it felt as if it were. What was I afraid of? That we’d get separated?

  God, please don’t let me lose Amara in this strange dream world.

  No place for you, daughter. Go back now.

  Old Face stood about twenty feet from us. His old body appeared as strong as ever, at least from what I’d seen in my dreams. Old Face stood tall, his chest bare and painted with strange symbols. The dead chief’s eyes were not cruel but determined and fixed on Amara.

  “I must come. Please, let us pass.” Her voice was but a whisper in the dream space, but it reverberated through my body. Like the strange drum tapping, Amara’s voice caused the leaves to tremble. “Grandfather, see me. I belong to you. I must pass. Let me make this right. You know this is right.”

&nb
sp; Old Face did not answer her kindly, but neither did he harm us and I felt sure to do so was within his power. Surely, it was within his power. He was a powerful man still. Amara whimpered and clutched my hand. That’s when I saw what she saw—the black deer had returned. It was poised on the pathway and opposite Old Face. I got the feeling that they were not friends, but the black deer did not encroach into Old Face’s space. He kept away at a respectful distance.

  Old Face muttered at the deer, words I did not understand. The deer did not move—it did not answer him. That’s when I noticed a painted staff in Old Face’s hand; beautifully crafted and embellished with a few leather strips and other decorative symbols like feathers and stones.

  He said a word that I could only interpret as, “Go!” by the tone and his body movements. Old Face stood straddling the path as he tapped the leaf-covered forest floor with the butt of his staff. The dream world shuddered and the black leaves began to tremble and shake as they lifted off the ground. I watched in horror as they twisted and then gathered into piles of blackness. A round mound near my feet began to shake as if something living were hiding beneath it. But it grew. The mound grew larger and it began to take shape!

  A head--the black leaves became a head, the leaves melted into hair, dirty, matted hair. Dead eyes blinked at me as the head continued to shove its way up from the ground and now I could see shoulders and a neck. The dead! The dead were rising! Amara screamed as she tugged at me. I could do nothing but watch the horrible scenario unfold.

  “We have to go! He’s summoning the dead! His dead tribe! Carrie Jo—move your ass!” Amara dragged me away and the last thing I saw was the deer—it was watching us, the black deer with the white antlers and solemn eyes. Some sort of old soul, but whose side was it on?

  As if it read my mind, the deer stomped a front paw and Old Face retaliated with a snarl. More of the dark mounds were reappearing, heads and shoulders, and now arms of the Creek were assembling themselves from their long-dead dust and ashes. And the smell… the horrible stench overwhelmed me. Amara called my name—the leaves shook in response, but now the ground was rumbling. This dream was quickly getting out of control and we were not going to win here.

  Retreat was the best option. But retreat to where? There were no doors here, none that we could walk through. As we ran I began to hear odd footsteps running behind us. Odd because they were heavy and fast, but not quite human. Strange. Hearing footsteps in a dream wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t the norm either. I glanced over my shoulder and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see who chased us. The leaves were no longer leaves but bodies, terrible bodies made of moldy leaves.

  “Don’t look! Keep running! We have to find a door, Carrie Jo!”

  “I know! I’m looking!” I ran beside her, but it didn’t appear that we’d gone very far. It’s like we were running in circles. I could see Old Face before me, standing about a hundred feet away. If this were the living world I would have done a double-take, but all things were possible in the dream world.

  “White Fire!” I shouted to Amara as she staggered beside me. “Follow her!” What else could we do except trust that she’d show us the way out? But then again, she was the reason we were here now. Why would White Fire help us escape? And in the distance, I could hear a baby crying. Oh God! What a horrible sound!

  My baby! White Fire screamed with her hands on her head, she stared up at the gray heavens with red tears streaming down her face! Help me find him! Suddenly I had nothing but compassion for the dead woman, even though she’d cursed Gray Cloud and done horrible things to No Name. I was not her judge. I was no one’s judge. Heaven would have to make whatever determination it needed to make regarding her.

  Amara…Amara… I am here too. Over here. Come this way. I will protect you.

  This wasn’t White Fire’s voice.

  “Gennifer? What are you doing here?”

  No time to explain. Run with me! I will lead you back. I have found her. I have found Empty Arms!

  The black deer with Gennifer’s voice beckoned us and we obeyed. As she ran, she began to change. First, the white antlers melted away, the legs morphed in a blurry cloud of white. Gennifer emerged and ran with super speed ahead of us. What was going on? Was Amara’s friend a dream catcher too? Something else?

  It was chaos out here, the dead were rising and collapsing, rising and collapsing, Old Face pushed at us with his chanting. White Fire wailed and mourned for her child. Her grief would no longer be denied. She knew who Amara was—she knew her line had continued, but it was not enough. As a mother, I understood that! I understood the need to see and hold your child.

  The sounds of footsteps and screaming and chanting ended and the three of us were now standing inside Gracefield. The fashionable, comfortable living room had been transformed into a green bower. Soft greenery felt spongy underfoot, the air felt moist and fresh. A group of large trees took the place of the walls and ceiling they were practically wrapped over us.

  Old Face was nowhere to be seen, but I could sense his energy. He knew we were here. He knew what we were trying to do and there was no reasoning with him. Even after all these centuries, Old Face did not want to give his daughter any comfort.

  And she was there, too. On her knees, her deerskin dress stained with blood, her skin dirty and red. She lifted her hands to us, Gennifer and Amara flanked me. The three of us watched the spirit. I felt invisible energy surging around me. So much power! The three of us were generating so much power.

  Too much for this house to handle apparently, the floor began to shake…

  Chapter Seventeen—Amara

  I barely got my bearings when I experienced the sweats and queasiness. Why couldn’t this be an ordinary dream or dream walk? No. I couldn’t be that lucky. Despite everything I had already been through with this house I was going to experience the past in the way I liked least. As a participant. Those experiences were always the worst.

  Too invasive and far too personal and not just for me — for the other party as well. I didn’t want to know anyone that intimately, to feel what they feel or, see what they see. This was far too intrusive but I had no way of stopping it. As always in these dream excursions, I seem to be operating at the whims of something invisible. Call it what you want — I had no control.

  No, I didn’t want this at all. Amara Cooper was nothing if not a control freak. But if I wanted this to be over I needed to get my physical body and revulsion under control.

  Although I could see no one except the shadow before me I heard Gennifer’s voice in my ear. “Breathe in, breathe out. Yes, that’s good, Amara. Keep breathing.”

  Carrie Jo was close by as well and I could sense her calmness although I could not hear her voice. Yes, Carrie Jo Stuart walked with a spirit of peace; a gift of hers I was certain she was not aware of which was exactly what I needed right this minute.

  The shadow before me did not manifest – it wasn’t meant to do that. This was no shadow person but a shell, the remnants of someone that wanted to connect with me, and this person was part of White Fire’s story. That must be true or else she wouldn’t be here. I blinked to further discern who this might be but all the blinking and staring in the world could not help me uncover the truth about this person’s identity.

  The only way I would know was to accept the offering.

  Inwardly I groaned at that thought. Get over yourself, Amara. If you want to move past this session you must embrace what is being offered to you.

  Those were my own words of advice and I decided to heed them. I stepped forward and closed my eyes as the remnants; that was the only word I could think of to describe it, wrapped around me. All of me. My face, my arms, and fingers. My legs and even my most intimate parts were wrapped in a seal of some sort. The nausea returned.

  Breathe. Just breathe. See? I am breathing, Gennifer. I’m trying. I’m trying to stay alive so that I can come back to you!

  Oh! What an unsettling feeling — it was like being vacuum-sealed o
r cling wrapped by the invisible. Not only was I in my body as Amara Cooper but I was someone else too. Someone whose heart was breaking. Breaking because her joy brought another agony. And the agony to her surprise was far greater than she had anticipated. I felt the weight in my arms. I can’t say that I had ever carried a baby. Never once in my life but this must be what I was experiencing. The pleasant warmth of the child, the love in my heart, the satisfaction of knowing that I was responsible for another human being. I had not anticipated this heady mixture of emotions. Thank goodness at least this remnant didn’t belong to a murderer or a madman like Gray Cloud.

  I whispered Gennifer’s name and also Carrie Jo’s but now that I was in my temporary shell the only thing I could hear was crying. Not White Fire — I was Empty Arms and I was weeping on ending tears!