A Find Through Time

by Marianne Petit

  Glancing at the silent faces around her, it saddened her to see not so much the terror furrowed in the lines on their dark faces, but the knowing acceptance of reality dulling their eyes-the sense that this was just another day in a changing, torn-apart world.

  Feeling helpless, knowing she couldn't bring hope to their anguished faces, she leapt to her feet and ran from her hiding place to the edge of battlefield below.

  The sun glared with exhausting heat. Sagebrush and thorny cactus scratched her ankles and calves as she ran. The air thick with dust being kicked up from horse hooves and gray with the sulfuric odor of fired gunpowder, made it difficult to see. Her eyes teared. She covered her nose and mouth with her hand.

  At a fast clipped gallop, a warrior rode toward her. His arrow pointed toward her, she ducked. The shaft flew over her head. She heard the yelp of a man. Pivoting around she saw the soldier fall from his horse, the arrow piercing his chest. She spun around again, pushing forward past fallen horses and dying men. The stench of blood made her gag.

  Quickly she glanced to the river where only a short time ago, beneath its cooling swirling currents, she and Two Moons had made love. Now it ran red with blood as man fought man and horses plunged through the broken torrent water.

  Frantically she glanced around searching through all the chaos for him. A bugle blared on a ridge. The earth thundered with horse hooves. Warriors galloped up and down the hillocks, their carbines cocked and ready, their lances and clubs raised; while blue uniformed soldiers so encased in dust they seemed as ashen as the gray horses they rode, fired and reloaded their pistols.

  Panic stricken, she threw herself into a cluster of nearby bushes. Afraid to close her burning, dust inflicted eyes she lay there and did the only thing she could: she prayed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sunlight filtered in through the skylight, illuminating the page in Roy’s hand. He glanced at his watch, six a.m. Hours had passed. Hours of reading numerous documented case studies of past life experiences left him intrigued, yet skeptical. Perhaps it was possible. Hell, all those people couldn't be crazy storytellers. Achy from reading so long he rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. As soon as he found Gabrielle he was taking a way overdue vacation and perhaps a visit to his neighborhood psychologist.

  It was eight a.m. by the time John awoke and ten a.m. by the time they had finished eating their breakfast.

  “A watch will do that.” John pushed himself from the table. “It becomes your master. You become a slave to time.”

  “Sorry. I hadn't meant to keep glancing at my watch. It's just that I'm a little anxious to get into town.” Roy picked up his plate, helping to clear the table.

  John placed the dishes in the sink and turned to face him. One dark eye studied him, while the other lighter one seemed to be looking the other way. “Yes. You should go to the hospital.”

  “I don’t need a hospital.” Roy handed him his dish. “Do you have any idea when your friend will stop by?”

  A crunch of gravel and the halting sound of tires screeched in through the open window. John glanced outside, then shifted his gaze back. “So it seems he is here now.”

  He placed the dish in the sink, turned and walked through the back door.

  Roy spun on his heels, moving quickly into the living room. He retrieved his camera, swung it around his neck and headed outside.

  John was talking to his friend, a young man of the same nationality. He extended his hand to Roy as he walked over. “Meet my friend, Dean, also known as Red Bird. So he will be happy to drive you into town.”

  Roy shook Dean's hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Got your truck in my shop. Engines’ working fine and I replaced the hood, but it'll need some more bodywork and a paint job. Could have it ready by the end of the week?”

  Roy shook his head. “No. It's fine the way it is. Thanks. I'm kind of in a hurry to get back to work. Let me pay you what I owe you. I can get it fixed later.” He reached into his pocket.

  “Hey, no problem.” Dean waved his hand. “Pay me later. Promised John here I'd drive you to the hospital.”

  Roy glanced up, puzzled. “I'm fine. I've got to-”

  “Said you didn't want to feel responsible for any injuries, right John?”

  John nodded. “So you must go.”

  “I'm fine, really.”

  Dean walked over to his car, got inside and started the engine.

  “I'm not in any pain,” Roy insisted as he focused his attention back to his host.

  John placed his hand over his arm. “So humor an old man. Go to the hospital. Don't be a slave to that time again.”

  Roy took a deep breath, then exhaled. He wasn't going to get anywhere arguing. “All right. It's the least I can do.”

  A dog's bark drew his attention to Dean's car. A familiar white hairy beast hung his hand out the window. Blue eyes stared at him. Dean waved indicating he was ready to leave.

  “Well, I guess this is it. Time…” Roy turned to address John. “to …” Confused, he glanced around. John was nowhere to be found.

  A black hawk sat on the fence watching him. Its yellow flecked eyes peering intensely, the bird cocked its head as if studying him. There was a weird sense of familiarity in those strange eyes that made him increasingly uneasy. Roy glanced away, hastily. “John?” he called out, hoping his host would reappear. “I'm leaving.”

  The hawk cawed. Startled, Roy's shoulders jerked. The hair on the nape of his neck rose. With a whoosh the large bird lifted its wings and took to the sky. In disquieting solitude and wonderment, he stared as the large black bird soared higher and higher and disappeared into the clouds. And John Raven Wing's words seemed to flow through the warm air. “Magic, what is magic….”

  ****

  A hot, dusty breeze blew, and from the bush in which she hid, Gabrielle could see that some women had begun walking out onto the field in search of their loved ones. It seemed the battle was over, although sporadic fighting still occurred in the distance.

  Cautiously, she stood and glanced around. Sheer black fright twisted around her heart as she stared at the multitudes of dead bodies strewn across the open plains before her. Where was Two Moons? She didn't want to look down as she ran past the dying. But she did. The putrid stench of blood made her gag. The frozen expressions of terror and pain on the faces of the dead tore at her insides.

  Warriors crazy with excitement stripped the soldiers of their clothing and possessions. A vast flood of women ascended from the hills. Their tremolo voices raised in song, tore at her ears.

  She glanced to the ridge, praying silently she would see Two Moons standing there. But with all the confusion, it was difficult to distinguish him from the other warriors. Mounted Indians with lances rode around jabbing their spears into the fallen men. Others at close range fired into the heads of those still standing. Death and chaos circled her as she ran, not knowing in which direction to go.

  Chahanpi walked across the field. A cry of relief broke from Gabrielle's lips. Running toward her friend, she watched Chahanpi bend down to examine a fallen warrior. Then out of the corner of her eye, Gabrielle caught a glimpse of a soldier hiding in the thick timber nearby. She saw him raise his rifle, saw his aim. . .

  “Chahanpi! Watch out!” Gabrielle ran. Her friend's life depended on it. She jumped over bloody, mutilated bodies, pushing away the horror and fear eating at her gut. The moans of the wounded fused with the lamenting screams of the women and crying, confused children. Again she cried out, this time getting her friend’s attention. Chahanpi looked up and waved.

  “Nooo…” Gabrielle frantically waved her arms.

  Chahanpi began to rise.

  “Don't get up,” Gabrielle screamed, shaking her head and pointing to the right towards the woods.

  Gabrielle reached Chahanpi before she had a chance to straighten and smashed into her. A searing hot sting bit Gabrielle's back. They hit the ground with a thud that knocked the air from
her lungs and sent an excruciating pain in her chest. She pushed the feeling away. Her eyes closed, her breath held, Gabrielle, too terrified to move, lay paralyzed.

  “My friend, I, too, am filled with joy that once again we are together,” Chahanpi said softly.

  Gabrielle opened her eyes. Her fear subsided with Chahanpi’s smile. Her friend was all right. Thank God.

  Chahanpi chuckled. “But you are not as light as you look.”

  “Oh. Right.” Her brain numb, her movement’s jerky, Gabrielle slowly peeled her body off her friend.

  “You are hurt!”

  Before the words had barely left Chahanpi's mouth, before she felt the wet blood soak her skin and felt the searing pain attack, Gabrielle knew her time upon this earth-her time spent with these people, with the ones she had grown to love, had come to an end. And the thought was more painful than the fire-burning spasm consuming her.

  Chahanpi jumped up and thrust her arms beneath Gabrielle's in an effort to help her rise. “We must get you back to the village.”

  “Two Moons-please --” Gabrielle’s voice broke as a wave of excruciating pain flared like an inferno, engulfing her entire body. Her legs numb, the effort to stand too great, she slumped back to the ground. “I can't-”

  “No,” Chahanpi said sternly. “You must come with me. Black Hawk's medicine is strong. He will heal your wound.” Frantically, she glanced around.

  Saddened by the fear on her friend's face, the same fear she had seen on Two Moons' the night Shadow Elk had died, Gabrielle reached out to touch her arm. “Chahanpi, look at me.” She squeezed gently. “Look at me.”

  Tears spilled from Chahanpi's eyes.

  “Until I came here, I didn't know…” Gabrielle took a deep breath. Exhaling the sharp pain, she continued. “What it was like to have a real friend-”

  “We will have many long talks about our being friends.” Again Chahanpi glanced around.

  “Yes. You will hear my voice in the wind-”

  “No.” Chahanpi jerked her gaze back and shook her head. “You will not walk the path to the land above-”

  “Alone.” Two Moons’ shadow loomed before her. He knelt by her side. His hands were warm against her cool ones.

  “Two Moons, I-”

  “Hush my blue-eyed one. I am here now and will never leave you again.” Gently, he scooped her up in his arms. Gabrielle laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Despite the fear throbbing, she felt so safe cradled against him. His strength, his heat, his closeness like a protective shroud, comforted her.

  She heard him talking to Chahanpi, felt her friend's gentle fingers brush her hair and lightly touch her arm. When she glanced up, Chahanpi turned away.

  “Chahanpi wait.” Gabrielle reached over her head and struggled to remove the gold chain hanging between her breasts. A spasm of pain shot across her shoulder blades.

  “Please,” she wheezed and held out the locket. “See that my mother gets this.”

  Chahanpi nodded, took the chain and hurried away.

  Gabrielle glanced to Two Moons.

  “Could you take me to our river, to the river where we made love?”

  She heard his intake of breath, could feel the muscles in his arm grow taut with tension. Her chest burned with pain. Light headed her lids fluttered.

  Without a word he carried her to the tree beside the river and gently lay her down beneath its boughs.

  His jaw quivered as he gazed down at her.

  She shivered. “I am so cold.”

  Lying by her side, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close to his chest. “Take my heat, it saved you once let it do so again. All my strength, all my life, take it, it is yours.” He kissed her head. The pain in his voice was as heavy as the torturing pain racking through her body. He knew.

  “This isn't fair.” She began to cry. “I don't want to die. Not now, not when I just found you.” She saw her tears mirrored in his.

  “You are not going to die. It is a long journey you will take. The spirits are calling you back to the land from which you came.”

  Though in her heart she knew her time here was finished, she shook her head. Pain exploded. She cringed. The bravado of his words was meant as comfort, but in his eyes, she saw the sadness he tried so hard to hide. “I -- I don't want to go… there is so much -- talk. It's too difficult… to breathe. I don't' want to lose you.” Pain erupted simultaneously through her chest and back.

  “You will not lose me.” A tear slipped from his clouded eyes. She reached up and wiped it away.

  “I show my weakness. I am sorry.” He glanced away.

  “You are not weak. You could never be weak. You are my warrior, my…” She drew in a shallow rapid breath. “Brave, handsome warrior.”

  ****

  Two Moons’ heart tore, crumbled bit by bit with every shallow breath she took. He bit the inside of his lip to keep his jaw from quivering. She would die and so would he, for to walk this land without her by his side would not be living.

  “My heart is laid upon the ground, for had I listened to your words and chose not to fight, perhaps-” His strangled words seemed to echo in his ears.

  “No.” Weakly, she reached up and touched his cheek. “This is foolish talk. You had to fight. You would have died on those reservations.” Her eyes closed.

  He brought his hand to her wrist and kissed her fingertips. “To spare your life, I would gladly go.” A sharp ache stabbed his chest.

  “Now who is talking fool -- ishly?” She turned her head.

  His gaze followed hers to the battlefield. Wounded warriors, dragged their weary bodies back to camp, leaving wailing women and crying children behind searching for their loved ones. Dulled by their keening cries, feeling nothing but his own pain, he glanced away. He, too, wished to scream like the women; would like to take his anger out on any soldiers who still lived, but he had not the strength or will to fight.

  “Open your eyes to me, my blue-eyed one. Let me see the summer sky once more.”

  She turned toward him, her eyes brimming with tears. “The fighting is over?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Yes. The one you call Custer and his men no longer walk this earth. My sister's shame has been revenged.”

  She took a shallow breath. “It was by your arrow?”

  “Yes.” He felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

  “I always wondered…” Her voice faded. Her head dropped.

  And as the darkness reached out to cover her, it seemed to pull him down as well, leaving a lonely warrior to weep beside his loved one-his life.

  Two Moons’ tormented scream echoed across the plains. He wanted to die. On bended knees, he stared down at her, his blue-eyed one, his love. Cottonwood flowers fell, covering her with white petals, fulfilling his vision of a woman surrounded in white, and he recalled, when he had found her in the snow. He brushed her hair lightly. “What a fool I've been. So many moons wasted in questions and doubts.” With gentle fingers he touched her lips. “We could have spent those days together.”

  Dead in spirit to all but the woman who lay before him, Two Moons leaned back on his haunches and slowly drew out his knife.

  He barely felt his blade as it sliced through his hair; barely felt it nick his ear, as he sheared off his locks. “Soon,” he promised. He bent over and kissed her. “Soon I will travel to the land above, where we shall be together.” A promise had been made-a promise that he would never leave her.

  His words strangled in the back of his throat, he kissed her closed eyes. “Ohinniya, always, forever.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Nimitawa ktelo, you will be mine.”

  Gathering his strength, he stood and raised his arms to the sky. “Tunkashila forgive me. I wish not to dishonor you or my people. I shame myself, this I know. There is no honor in what I am about to do. Forgive me.” To take his own life was the only way; the only way to give up his soul to the one Blue Eyes was destined to be with.

  A black hawk fl
oated lazily on the wind. Two Moons closed his eyes and prayed, thanking the great ones above for sending one of his animal spirits to guide him. It seemed they understood that he could not wait until his bones were weak with age to see Blue Eyes again. That he had made her a promise he could not break. “It is a good day to die.”

  With a downward motion, he arched his knife. But before its tip found its mark upon his skin, a sharp stabbing pain cut into his flesh. Two Moons' eyes flashed open, to stare in disbelief at the arrow piercing his chest.

  “At last, my brother, it seems I have won the final battle.”

  He glanced up to see Little Wolf strutting toward him.

  “Yes, it is my arrow you wear upon your breast.” He spat the word into Two Moons’ face. “Mine. Not like your friend, Shadow Elk, who died from a stolen Crow arrow.”

  Pain attacked. Two Moons doubled over. His knife fell from his hand.

  “You look surprised.” Little Wolf grinned. “Your feeble attempts at finding me that night only proved once and for all which of the two of us is the better warrior.”

  Two Moons reached out to grab Little Wolf's neck. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.” The ground beneath him blurred. Clutching the arrow, he shook his head, hearing Little Wolf's laughter.

  Little Wolf poked Two Moons' chest, causing him to stumble.

  He caught his footing, then glanced up. “I must thank you -- my brother.” His shoulders heavy, his chest on fire, he wavered in his spot. “You have made my heart light. Now I can travel on my journey with honor.”

  Through the hazy cloudiness of his eyes, he could see the confusion on Little Wolf's face.

  “What talk is this? This is the talk of a crazy man who is afraid to admit he has been beaten.”

  The pain too great, no longer able to stand, Two Moons sank to his knees. “Before your arrow pierced my heart…” He coughed. Blood bubbled up into his throat. He swallowed with difficulty. “I sought death by my own hands.” Short winded, he continued. “So it seems by friend, because of you--” He coughed again. He could feel the blood now seeping from the corner of his mouth. “I shall die as a warrior should.”