Winter Moon Rises

by Scott Blum

  “Because of exactly what you said—it’s not your name.”

  “Okay.” It made much more sense when I was thinking about it myself, but it somehow felt uncomfortable when she said it.

  “I was thinking she could take my name.” She smiled. “Autumn Taylor.”

  For some reason, this felt even worse to me. There was a part of me that felt excluded, as if I wasn’t part of the family at all.

  “What about me?” I asked. “Then I’d be excluded from her life completely.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous—you’d still be her father. And if it means that much to you, why don’t you take my name as well? Scott Taylor.” She smiled again. “That has a nice ring to it.”

  “No,” I said firmly, without even considering her offer. “I gave my last name up when I was adopted, and I won’t do that again.”

  “Well, if that’s the real issue,” she replied perceptively, “then why don’t you change your name back to Saxton?”

  She was right—that was the real issue. “I don’t know about that. I think it would really hurt my parents’ feelings.”

  “Don’t you think it hurt your birth father’s feelings when you changed it the first time?”

  “Of course it did. But that was years ago, and I was only seven years old. Why should I dig all of that up again? Shouldn’t I just let well enough alone?”

  She shrugged.

  “But what about Autumn?”

  “What did you think of Caroline yesterday?” Madisyn always knew when it was time to change the subject.

  “I thought the whole experience was a bit intimidating.” I surprised myself by saying it out loud.

  “Powerful women are always intimidating—especially for men.”

  “Maybe that was part of it, but I just didn’t feel like I belonged there.”

  “I think she made a very real effort to make you feel welcome. Besides it was a women-only ceremony, and you weren’t even supposed to be there.”

  “That’s exactly my point. I just don’t feel like I have an inherent bond with any group of people.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In today’s world, nearly every group of people seems to have a shared bond within itself. Women, African Americans, disabled, gays, and so on. The only group that doesn’t seem to have an intrinsic bond with one another is straight white males. Can you imagine what would happen if someone created a support group for straight white males?”

  Madisyn laughed. “That’s because straight white males have historically been responsible for oppressing everyone else.”

  “I know, and evidently that’s my burden to bear.”

  “I don’t think anyone is going to feel sorry for you.”

  “And they shouldn’t—it’s just that I feel lonely in my straight white maleness sometimes.”

  “Perhaps it’s time for you to finally embrace your Native American heritage. If I had Indian blood, I’d be at every powwow within a hundred miles.”

  Madisyn was right. My great-grandfather was responsible for the majority of the Cherokee blood flowing through my veins, and there was something about bringing a new baby into the world that made me want to reconnect with my ancestral line on an even deeper level.

  “Maybe that’s it. I should probably keep my eye out for an event that resonates with me.”

  “I’m sure that will help,” she said compassionately. “So, what did Caroline give you when you went back to get your sweater?”

  “Her phone number. She said that I needed help, and I should call her.”

  “Well, you better do it,” Madisyn replied in a serious voice. “Martika said that Caroline isn’t taking any new clients … so if she’s offering, it’s probably pretty important.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Martika speaks highly of her work—some kind of soul healing, I think. I’m not sure exactly what she does, but you should find out.”

  We spent the next few hours leisurely getting ready for the day. The weekends gave us the chance to be together as a couple, since much of the time during the week we needed to play the role of business partners. After bathing, I dug through the pockets of my jeans and handed Madisyn the crumpled note that Caroline had given me. She studied the handwriting for a few seconds and started dialing the number without saying a word. She then handed me the receiver before it began ringing. Caroline answered after the first ring.

  “Um, hello. It’s Scott from yesterday. Martika’s friend.”

  “Hello, Mr. Scott,” Caroline said matter-offactly. “I just had a cancellation a few minutes ago. I’d like to see you at one o’clock today.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When I arrived at Caroline’s house, I was surprised to find that the entire property was fenced in by tall wooden planks. The green paint was in the final stages of peeling, and on the gate was a sign that read: BEWARE OF DOG. I wasn’t sure if I should let myself in, but when I reached for the latch, the thunderous barking that ensued gave me my answer.

  I looked through a knothole near the bottom of the fence and saw a large German shepherd with bared teeth that was responsible for the intimidating noise. In the distance I glimpsed Caroline float-walking toward the gate to let me in. After standing up and dusting off my knees, I tried to look as calm as possible in the presence of Canine the Protector.

  The gate was flung open, revealing Caroline, who was wearing a green velvet dress and a single strand of amethyst gemstones. She smiled warmly and extended her arms to embrace me fully. Her presence was profoundly calming, and I felt a warm tingle of energy coming from every place where our bodies met through her soft velvet dress. She was definitely good at hugging, and my heart sank ever so slightly when the embrace ended too soon.

  “Come on, Mr. Scott. We have a lot of work to do.”

  “That’s quite a dog you have,” I noted.

  “Oh, that’s Shasta. He’s my receptionist. He screens all my clients and tells me what to expect before I see them.”

  I suddenly felt self-conscious and wondered if I’d made a mistake by looking at him through the knothole. “Did I pass?”

  “You wouldn’t be in here if you didn’t.” She laughed.

  Caroline’s lot was much larger than it had appeared from the street. A small forest of densely planted trees and bushes crowded the small cottage that was set in the middle of the property. As we walked through a breezeway attached to the house, a much quieter Shasta left us alone, entering a makeshift doggy door to the right of the screened entryway. We continued to the backside of the house, where a padded massage table was set up on the bank of a tiny babbling brook.

  The feeling was utterly magical, and I couldn’t help but notice the fairylike sparkles glimmering on the surface of the flowing water. As I squinted, the diamonds of light transformed into shapes vaguely resembling dragonflies floating lazily down the stream.

  “Good … you can see them.”

  “See who?” I asked.

  “The elementals. They were all excited when they heard you were coming today. Martika told me that you could see spirits … especially your unborn daughter.”

  “I don’t always see her,” I explained. “Sometimes I just hear her … or feel her. But that all seems to have changed since Madisyn got pregnant.” “I understand. Please remove your shoes and lie faceup on the table—let’s see if we can contact her today.”

  I felt a tingling of excitement in the pit of my stomach as I lay on the padded table. It didn’t occur to me that someone else could connect with Autumn, and although it wouldn’t be the same as communicating with her directly, I was excited about the possibility of being able to check in with her.

  On my back, I couldn’t help but revel in the sensory abundance that filled Caroline’s property. The soothing sound of the trickling brook instantly calmed my mind, while a gentle breeze softly caressed my entire body with its delicate touch. Immediately above me was one of the most glorious trees I had ever seen. It towered confi
dently far above the house, clutching thousands of tiny pink flowers that all but obscured the green foliage.

  “Just relax,” Caroline said in a soft voice. “I’m going to start by reconnecting your energetic meridians.”

  She pressed one strong index finger firmly below my shoulder blade and held it there for several seconds. She then brought her other index finger next to it and gently followed the edge of my torso until she found the bottom of my rib cage. Once she found the precise location, she pressed hard with her second finger, and I felt a faint electrical charge travel between the two fingers along the path she had traced. Surprisingly, when she removed her fingers, the electrical charge remained, as if she had unblocked a channel that was now able to flow freely.

  Caroline repeated the process on the opposite side of my torso; and then continued with my arms, legs, and many other points throughout my body. Although the process was inherently energizing, it was also profoundly relaxing.

  In my altered state, I was vaguely conscious that she had finished reconnecting my meridians, and afterward she tenderly placed her hands under the back of my head and firmly pressed her fingers into my neck. She held me in that relaxing pose for several seconds before gently pulling on the base of my skull, and I felt the warm breeze begin to surge and swirl around me. The howling gust sounded like a tropical storm as it blew through the branches of the trees and shook the windowpanes with its insistent force. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not, but in my dreamlike state, I felt myself being lifted off the padded table and float into the sky above.

  Although my eyes were still closed, my mind was filled with a series of vivid images of Mount Shasta from various perspectives. The noble mountain just south of the Oregon-California border was easily the most prominent natural landmark for hundreds of miles. It had always elicited a sense of wonder from me, ever since I’d first seen it at the age of twelve when our family had moved to the area. The bright pink sunsets illuminating the snow-covered cliffs embodied an exquisite beauty that rivaled the most picturesque tropical beaches. And the saucerlike lenticular cloud formations contributed to its magical reputation among both nature lovers and woo-woo New Agers alike. I had never scaled its summit, but many of the images I saw in my mind’s eye that afternoon were clearly from a perspective at the top of the peak that I couldn’t remember having seen in a photograph.

  “Mr. Scott …” I heard someone whispering my name from what sounded like another room. “Mr. Scott, it’s time to return …”

  When I opened my eyes, I saw a single blue dragonfly hovering above my face, before it darted into the cloudless sky. At first I assumed I must have imagined the bout of inclement weather until I noticed that the tree above me had been thoroughly stripped of its pastel-colored flowers. I involuntarily brought my hand up to scratch my nose when I noticed that I was covered in a blanket of the soft pink petals.

  Caroline leaned over me, her face upsidedown. Her jaw appeared to be hinged from the top and moved like a surreal marionette when she spoke.

  “How do you feel?” she asked with her oddly inverted mouth.

  “Um, okay, I guess. Sort of disoriented, I think.”

  “It will take a few minutes to integrate—just relax.”

  “The flowers … the wind …” For some reason my mind was unable to construct full sentences, as if my vocabulary had temporarily been diminished. “Yes, the nature spirits were quite active during your session—you had a lot of help today.”

  Part of me was relieved that I hadn’t imagined the entire session, although it definitely created more questions than it answered. However, one stood out far above the others. “Did you see Autumn?”

  “Oh yes. Autumn is quite the little spirit, and she shines with a light that is very bright. However, there is still one thing that concerns me.”

  “Concern? Still? What do you mean?”

  “One of the main reasons I invited you here is because I saw something very unusual in your energy field yesterday.”

  “What is it? Am I okay?”

  “Oh yes, you are definitely okay. How do I say this?” She paused for a few moments while collecting her thoughts. “When a woman is pregnant, it’s not only her body that grows to accommodate the fetus. It’s equally important that her soul also increase in stature to allow the baby’s spirit to feel safe as it transitions into human form.”

  “Like a spirit womb?”

  “Yes, that’s a good name for it. During the gestation process, newborns don’t spend the entire time within their own bodies—in fact, they spend much of it in the spirit world, where they were residing before the pregnancy. Of course they explore their new home on occasion, but most of the time when a child soul is near its mother, it remains in the spirit womb because this feels more natural.”

  “I think I understand,” I replied to Caroline’s marionette mouth. “But what does that have to do with me?”

  “Ah, that’s the thing. When I met Madisyn yesterday, it was obvious that her spirit womb was progressing nicely. But remarkably, you also appeared to have your own spirit womb that was even further along. That’s what I wanted to explore today. And it appears that Autumn is very comfortable in your spirit womb and has been visiting it for quite some time.”

  “I don’t understand. What does that all mean?”

  “To say it another way”—she smiled an upsidedown frown—“congratulations, Scott, you’re pregnant, also.”

  My mind was reeling, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the news I had just heard. “Is that common?”

  “I’ve never seen it before. The spirit womb is inherently a feminine phenomenon. I’ve never seen a father with one before.”

  “Is that bad? Am I hurting her somehow?”

  “I don’t think so,” Caroline said in an unsure voice. “In fact, she seems exceptionally happy and healthy.”

  “What about Madisyn?”

  “That is the most remarkable thing. Even after I explained that Madisyn is carrying her, Autumn still believes that you are her mother. She calls Madisyn the other mother.”

  “How could this happen?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out. As far as I can tell, it seems as if it was Autumn’s choice. Most people have soul contracts with their children well before the parents are even born. It’s an agreement between souls that is usually based on what they can teach each other when they incarnate.” “Martika explained that to us.”

  “Good. But what’s strange is that according to Autumn, you made the agreement with her well after you entered your current physical body.”

  “Do you think it was when I first started dreaming about her, around the time I met Madisyn?”

  “I don’t know … let me ask.” Caroline closed her eyes and went quiet for several seconds before resuming our dialogue. “She tells me that it was long before you met the other mother. Did you live in this area many years before meeting Madisyn?”

  “Yes, I did. In Yreka, just south of the Oregon border.”

  “That makes sense. She showed me pictures of Mount Shasta, where she had been waiting for you for many years.”

  A chill went down my spine as I recalled my visions during the session. “I wonder if that’s one of the reasons I ended up back in this area.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “But why can’t I communicate with her like I used to? If she’s so close, wouldn’t it be easier?”

  “She wanted to know the same thing. She thought you were ignoring her, but I reassured her that it wasn’t true. Mothers are supposed to develop a bond with their babies when they are in utero so the survival instincts can take over at birth. That’s why so many mothers have dreams about their babies when they’re pregnant even if they don’t usually communicate on a soul level. Therefore, the interdimensional dialogue is primarily limited to the baby’s biological mother during pregnancy.

  “It’s sort of like a highly evolved form of spiritual genetics that keeps the con
versations focused on building the maternal relationship. Because I work with a lot of pregnant mothers, I’m able to bridge the worlds more easily, but it will be nearly impossible for you to communicate with Autumn while she’s still in the womb.”

  I was saddened to discover that I wouldn’t be able to speak with Autumn until after she was born, but I was also encouraged to find that she would be able to spend some quality time with Madisyn so they could get to know each other. “Could you tell her that I miss her and I’m looking forward to meeting her in person?”

  Caroline closed her eyes and was silent for several seconds before responding in a strange, childlike voice: “We’ll be together very soon.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  After my trip to see Caroline, my anxiety dreams became much more frequent and vivid.

  Many of them stemmed from my early teenage years when our family moved from Los Angeles to the northernmost tip of California. We settled in a small town called Greenview that had exactly fifty-three residents, a post office, a gas station, and of course, a bar. Tucked between the Marble Mountains and the Trinity Alps, the town served as the belly button of the picturesque farmland known as Scott Valley. At first I was excited that we had moved to my namesake, but in less than a year I began to despise the entire valley and especially dread the twenty-minute bus ride to and from school….

  “Why do you always wear that necklace?” Jim quipped as he plopped onto the green vinyl seat next to me.

  “I dunno,” I replied, still unsure why my Southern California fashion acumen seemed to attract so much attention from fellow students. Everyone in my previous school had worn puka-shell necklaces, but evidently I was the only one in my new school to own one.

  “Because it looks like you stole it from your momma’s jewelry box. Do you always wear your momma’s jewelry?”

  I tried to ignore him the best I could.

  “And why do you wear girl clothes? Can’t your parents afford to buy you your own clothes?”