“Will you be at the evening meal?” he asked.
“No, but if Nootau will bring some scraps back for Kweeuu, I know he would appreciate it.”
At hearing his name, Kweeuu lifted his head and flopped his tail hard against the stone floor. Nootau decided to take the young wolf outside for a bit. He would bring Kweeuu back after the evening meal, giving his mother some time alone.
After the others had left, Adia crossed the room and sat on her favorite seating stone. It was raised off the ground only enough to let her sit cross-legged very comfortably, her back supported by the cool rock wall behind.
She counted her breaths and quieted her mind. As her thoughts cleared, the familiar window opened, and she was suddenly connected to Urilla Wuti.
In her mind, Adia felt Urilla Wuti ask if they could meet in the Corridor; the world Adia had at first erroneously called the Dream World. Adia answered that she had time, and Urilla Wuti closed the window.
Adia moved from the small seat to her sleeping mat, where she could fully unwind. She stretched out and took several deep breaths. It took her a while longer to relax than she had wished because she was still struggling with her emotions. Finally, the portal opened, not as clear as the Connection window, but there, nonetheless.
The next she knew, she was back in the beautiful clearing where she had spoken with Urilla Wuti the first time. Whiter than white clouds hung in a sparkling blue sky. She had forgotten how intense the colors were. Within moments, Urilla Wuti was walking toward her again—only this time she had someone with her; someone male.
Adia tried not to be impatient. Mundane questions popped into her head. Why do they have to walk across the opening to me? Why do they not just appear as I do?
As they approached, Adia stumbled and reached out to a nearby tree to brace herself. The male with Urilla Wuti was her father!”
How can this be if we are not dead?
But her heart quickly overtook her head, and she flung herself into his arms.
Apenimon Adoeete caught his daughter up and wrapped his arms around her. She had been a young maiden the last time he was able to hold her. Adia hugged him tightly, her head resting against his chest. Tears of joy streamed down her face.
She finally leaned back and looked into his eyes. It was him; this was her father. All the pain of not being with him when he died came flooding out.
“Oh, Father! Is it you? Is this happening? How is this possible? I have missed you so much. I am so sorry I was not with you when you died. I have never forgiven myself.”
“Hush, Adia, my daughter. I know it broke your heart that you were not with me when I passed. But you can see that I am still here, and so is all my love for you.”
Adia’s tears turned into sobs at hearing his voice. It was just as gentle as she remembered. When she had calmed a bit, she turned to Urilla Wuti, her face pleading.
“I know you have a million questions. This is not the time for your head to try to understand, Adia. You need to experience from your heart what is happening now,” counseled Urilla Wuti.
Adia nodded and then remembered that they were there for a purpose. She wanted to know what to do about Oh’Dar. But how did her father fit into this?
Urilla Wuti understood. “I could have told you what you are about to hear. But considering your state of mind, I thought you were ready to take another step in your training. That is why your father is here.”
Adia’s father put his hands on his daughter’s shoulders and explained.
“Even as a small offspring, you were extraordinary, Adia. Not just because of your seventh sense, which was apparent very early, but because of your huge heart. You cared for everyone and everything. You spent hours trapping the mice that came into Awenasa to release them back outside, lest they were accidentally stepped on or should wander too far and get lost in the tunnels and starve to death. You named every butterfly and bird you came across. I remember when your pet rabbit was lost, and the entire community was engaged in finding her because you were so brokenhearted. Your great heart is your greatest gift, but also your greatest liability.”
Adia’s eyes never left his. She barely risked blinking for fear he would disappear.
“Your heart is broken right now,” he continued. “And that is what is keeping you from realizing that Oh’Dar is alright. I know you believe he is, but weeks passed before you thought of meditating or contacting Urilla Wuti for help. I am telling you this as a warning that you will need to learn to balance your heart with the other gifts of the One-Who-Is-Three, the Great Spirit, as you face future challenges.”
His voice was soft, like velvet.
“I know you wondered why you could not stay and be Healer for our people, why you had to leave Awenasa, and live among the People of the High Rocks at Kthama. On the surface, it made no sense, but what I have come to tell you will ease your mind and help you with the difficulties you will face ahead.”
Future challenges? Difficulties? She did not ask, suspecting he was not allowed to tell her anything specific. She knew life was never smooth, but it was different knowing that troubles were coming for certain.
“Everything that has happened to you was foreseen by Sihu Onida, the Healer who was Urilla Wuti’s mentor. Sihu Onida had a vision of your future and the role you would play, and she told the High Council that you had to go to the People of the High Rocks to fulfill your destiny.”
“Everything? You mean that Sihu Onida saw—” She could not bring herself to say the words, not in front of her father.
“If she saw it in the detail you are thinking, she did not tell that to the High Council. It might have changed their actions as your future unfolded, and she would not have risked that. No, she saw your instrumental role in the future of the People and knew that it could only come to pass if you became the Healer of the People of the High Rocks.”
“Is Oh’Dar part of whatever is going to happen?”
“Have you already forgotten the dream your mother had, Adia? And the urging that compelled you to make the trip to where you found him? You must focus your training on achieving balance between your heart, your reason, and your will. It is critical that you do so.”
Adia dropped her shoulders, took a deep breath, and let out a huge sigh. She had not thought about her mother’s dream in years, not since she named Oh’Dar. The dream her mother had the night before she died giving birth to Adia.
“Will I see you again?”
She absorbed every bit of him now, memorizing him, taking in the feel of his arms on her shoulders, the fall of the white hair that framed his face.
“When you die to the realm of Etera, we will be together whenever you want. But if you are asking if you will see me here again, I do not know. It is only your great distress that caused me to come to you today. But I have watched your life, and my love is with you even though you have not been aware of it.”
Apenimon Adoeete pulled his daughter close again and hugged her for a long time. She soaked up every moment, wishing she could stay with him forever. She had missed him so much.
“You need to get back, Adia,” Urilla Wuti stepped in.
Adia pulled herself away from her father, meeting his eyes and drinking in one more look.
“Remember,” he said. “Balance. And by balance, I do not mean to suppress your connection with the Great Heart. You must strengthen your awareness of your other gifts, not dampen the voice of your heart. Remember all three, Adia—the Great Heart, Great Mind, and the Great Will.”
Adia nodded and slowly felt herself coming back into her body.
She put her hand to her forehead.
My father is still with me. Somehow, he knows what is going on in my life. And wherever Oh’Dar is, he is also fine. He has some role to play in the future. I know this. I knew it when I first found him.
Fatigue slammed her suddenly. With questions still swirling in her head, Adia succumbed to a deep sleep.
Nadiwani returned with Nootau to find
Adia sleeping soundly. They left a plate of food for her on the worktable and tiptoed out. They took Kweeuu and went back to Nadiwani’s quarters, which Nootau shared with her, his Auntie Mama. This arrangement had started when Nootau was little because of the danger that he might accidentally hurt the comparatively tiny and frail Oh’Dar.
Acaraho came later to check on Adia and found a changed female. She was sitting at the worktable, having just finished the meal the others had left her.
“I am glad to see you are eating something,” Acaraho said.
Adia reached out, took Acaraho’s hand, and pressed it to her cheek.
“I do not know what I would do without you,” she said softly.
“You will never have to find out.” He stepped forward and hugged her to him. Her arms went automatically around his waist, and she rested her head against his warm chest.
It was an infrequent physical exchange in the waking world, and it felt every bit as wonderful as when they held each other during their nighttime visits.
That night, Adia came to Acaraho again. Only this time, they just lay together and held each other, talking long into the night. It was the first time they had been together in the Dream World that they had not lovemated. But it was exactly what they both needed, and it had a sweetness that drew them even closer.
Adia did not explain to Acaraho what had happened with Urilla Wuti and her father, but she told him that she knew Oh’Dar would be alright. He could tell something had happened, and he was greatly relieved. Over the next few days, they returned to their usual routine.
Oh’Dar’s supplies were dwindling. He had marked the days on a stone the way Nadiwani had taught him, and he had been walking for nearly forty. His muscles ached. His feet were sore. His wrappings hung on him. He had wisely filled both his water bottles each time he came to a clean supply, but though he still had more than enough dried fruits to last for many more days, he was down to a handful of pine nuts. He was tired but not alarmed. The tree breaks reassured him that he was on the right path. It was only a matter of time before he came to the Waschini settlement about which he had overhead First Guard Awan telling his father.
Then, finally, at the top of a hillcrest, when he was just about ready to give up for the night, he spotted a faint light far down below in the valley.
The reality of what he had done hit him, and his legs began shaking. His stomach twisted. Knowing better than to approach anyone in the dark, Waschini or otherwise, he stepped a safe distance off the path and found a grassy patch to sleep on.
He lay down, staring up at the night sky. The full moon was bright overhead. With his fingers, he traced the star patterns his father had taught him. He remembered many nights of sleeping out under the stars with Acaraho and Nootau, learning about the constellations and how they changed and moved with the seasons.
Now that I am nearly there, everything looks different. I took so much for granted. I focused only on how much I did not fit in, not on all the ways I was loved and accepted. I wish I had not had to leave. Oh’Dar rolled onto his side and drew his knees up. How he wished his mother was holding him as she used to.
Able to travel much faster than any Waschini, Acaraho’s watchers had caught up with Oh’Dar days ago. The two had kept as close to Oh’Dar as they safely could, but now they were extra cautious not to give themselves away. They had to be mindful that there were Waschini in the area. So far, the Waschini were not aware of the existence of the Sasquatch. If this changed, it would be disastrous for the People. They did not want a war with the Waschini, but from what they knew, the Waschini would not leave the People to live their lives as they wished.
Morning came too soon, ushered in by the Whippoorwill’s call. Oh’Dar awoke to a sinking feeling in his stomach. He gathered up his things and headed down to the valley below.
He sat down to rest about two hundred paces from the settlement. There were many constructions of what looked like wood. Some were lined up on one side, and others were lined up across from them, leaving a big gap in between.
The structures were unnatural, all angles and straight lines. Nothing in nature has edges like that. How can they think it wise to construct something that looks so vulnerable to high winds and the weather as these do?
About mid-morning, people started to leave the buildings and move about. He watched them meet in the wide-open path that separated the two rows. Some of them simply went on their way, while some approached others and seemed to greet them.
Well, so far, these do not seem to be the warring hateful monsters I have heard about. But I had still better keep my wits about me.
Oh’Dar decided it was time and stood up. He finished the descent to the valley floor and headed toward what he later would learn was called a town. As he went, he said a prayer to the Great Spirit for protection and wisdom. He had spent a great deal of time preparing for this, but he also realized that anything could happen.
Acaraho’s watchers never took their eyes off the boy as he strode toward the Waschini settlement.
Chapter 6
Nora Webb and her daughter Grace were standing outside the Mercantile when they saw a young man approaching from the outskirts of town. He was dressed like no one they had ever seen, and he had a basket of some type slung over one shoulder. At first, they thought he might be one of the Locals, but he wasn’t dressed like them, and his skin wasn’t quite as dark.
“Look, Mama!” Grace pointed at him.
Mrs. Webb took him to be about eighteen. He was tall for his age and had jet black hair. As he came closer, she saw his bright blue eyes. Not one of the Locals; none of them had eyes like that. Despite his confusing dress, this was a White boy.
“Can we help you?” Mrs. Webb asked.
The young man looked at them and said nothing. He reached behind his neck and lifted off a little leather pouch he was wearing. He took out the locket on the chain and handed it to them.
Mrs. Webb opened the locket and showed it to her daughter. Inside were two pictures, one of a man and the other of a woman. Her eyes widened as she looked at the locket in amazement and then back at the boy.
How could it be? After all this time! Is this the Morgan boy? she wondered.
Mrs. Webb closed the locket and handed it back to him. She stepped forward slowly, keeping her eyes soft, and gently put a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you alright?” She kept her voice low. “My name is Mrs. Webb, and this is my daughter, Grace. Who are you?”
“I don’t think he understands us, Mama,” said Grace.
“Well, he looks harmless enough; let’s take him over to Ruby’s and get him something to eat. Then we’ll go and find the sheriff.”
Mrs. Webb reached out her hand, and he took it. She turned and walked slowly, leading him. It was the first time he had heard anyone other than Honovi use Whitespeak, and he had understood Mrs. Webb’s words to Grace. He was confident she meant him no harm.
Everything was peculiar. Mrs. Webb led him from the dirt swath that ran between the two rows of shelters and up a slope onto a wooden path. It felt hard under his feet. There was a roof overhead to shelter the path, also made of wood.
As they walked, he jumped as he suddenly caught sight of someone next to him. He turned to see them looking back at him.
The girl, Grace, said, “He’s seen his reflection in the window!”
“Could he never have seen a window before? Where has this young man been? Who has been taking care of him all these years?” exclaimed Mrs. Webb.
Oh’Dar had seen his reflection in the waters around Kthama. But to see a reflection walking upright was a new experience. Mrs. Webb and her daughter were standing next to him, and for the first time, he realized that while he was short compared to the People, he seemed to be tall for a Waschini. He was still young, yet he was taller than Mrs. Webb.
He had let go of Mrs. Webb’s hand when he turned to look at his reflection. This time Grace took it and tugged at him to keep going.
&nbs
p; They led him into a small place filled with tables and seating places. It smelled good, though different than anything he had ever been around.
They sat down with him and told another female something about scrambled eggs and biscuits. Soon a white plate of a beautifully shiny, smooth material appeared in front of him with food on it, and Mrs. Webb placed shiny tools on each side. He surmised that these had something to do with the food but had no clue what to do with them. So he picked the yellow pieces up with his fingers and did the same with the white fluffy things, eating them both that way.
“Oh, dear.” Grace and her mother turned to each other and chuckled.
Oh’Dar knew this wasn’t how they ate, but at least they were smiling at him. It was all he could do not to laugh in return. He was relieved that at least these two were friendly!
Oh’Dar continued eating, and Mrs. Webb sent her daughter to find someone called the sheriff. Soon a tall Waschini arrived and came over to the table. He had a peculiar shiny ornament on his chest.
“What is going on, Nora? Who is this, and where did he come from?” asked the sheriff.
“He just showed up, walking along the street. You won’t believe this, Ben, but I think he’s the Morgan boy. You know, the one whose parents were slaughtered by a rebel band of Locals on their way home so long ago? But how in the world could he have survived on his own?”
The sheriff took a seat at their table. He didn’t say anything for a moment; he simply looked at Oh’Dar, who continued eating and tried to look as if he didn’t understand what they were saying.
“Well, he’s about the right age. But what makes you think he’s the Morgan boy?” the sheriff asked.
“He has a locket in a little pouch he wears around his neck. It has pictures of a man and woman in it. I could swear they’re the same pictures I saw years ago on the reward posters.” explained Mrs. Webb.
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