I then loaded the shell back into the shotgun and made the sound of thunder as I nodded. Wildwood Shadows nodded at the weapon, looking from the weapon to me as she continued to gesture at it. White Owl also pointed to the gun and smiled at me. I think they wanted me to fire it, but with all the forest around us, I felt the other Indians could be anywhere in those woods. I didn’t want to accidentally hit someone should I fire the weapon randomly. I looked all around me as they continued to prod me with their devilish grins and foreign words.
Wildwood was the first to understand my predicament. She held up a finger like people often do to say “wait a minute.” Then she gestured for us to follow her down along the river’s edge. She started running at a good clip through the gravel and sand. White Owl followed immediately behind her and I took up the rear. We’d already passed up the spot where my father and I had crossed the river before and we were now darting past the place where a bridge existed in my time.
Just before the river veered to the right, Wildwood stopped and placed her hand against the shelf wall. At this particular spot, the land that bordered the river was about six feet above the water level. A stone path offered us only about eight inches of walking space between the water and the wall of dirt, stone, and tree roots.
White Owl grabbed onto one of the thick roots that peeked out from the small cliff face and pulled himself up to the grassy hill above. Wildwood motioned for me to wait the same as she was doing. A moment later, he loomed over us from above and started dropping pears into Wildwood’s hands. She caught them two at a time, dropping them gently near her feet. After dropping six pears, he spun around and climbed down with all the agility of a spider monkey.
He and Wildwood propped the pears up onto various tree roots in the cliff face. I now realized what they had planned. Since the river turned here, we could stand on the wider portion of beach and aim our weapons at the targets on the curved cliff face without any worries of injuring anyone should we miss the targets.
White Owl returned to where I was standing, putting the target about six meters away from us. Wildwood finished propping the last pear up and then joined us. White Owl was quick to draw an arrow from his quiver and slot it into his bow. He turned to me and smiled as he raised his weapon and took sight on one of the pears. A moment later, he released the projectile, impaling one of the pears directly to the wall.
“Nice!” I laughed, getting an equal reaction from both of them.
White Owl pointed to my shotgun and then to the targets. I took hold of my weapon and chambered a round. They stared at my weapon, unable to conceal their curiosity about the futuristic weapon. I wouldn’t be able to aim this thing, especially since it didn’t have a real stock with which to prop against my shoulder, but I still did my best to aim in in the general direction of one of the perched pears.
Finally I fired it, obliterating one of the pears and sinking two holes into another that was situated a little too close. Wildwood cried out in excitement while White Owl jumped up and down cheering. I lowered the weapon when I saw them rush in front of me to inspect the damage. The largest portion of the pear that exploded was a small chunk near the stem. Wildwood held it up for us to see. We laughed, enjoying the shared moment.
Wildwood slipped past White Owl in order to sidle up beside me. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d have to believe her closeness and that beautiful grin were very flirtatious in nature. I selfishly thought for a moment what would happen if she pressed her lips to my own. Instead, she shocked me with something else entirely. She startled me with her words as she took hold of the shotgun.
“Can I?” she asked in perfect English.
“What?” I asked, taken aback for a moment.
In an instant, White Owl was there between us, yelling at her and pushing her away from me. She wasn’t going to allow her little brother to get the best of her in front of the white man, so she pushed back, shouting the alien words right back at him. I thought for a moment that he was going to slap her, but she had shoved him a little too hard and knocked him to the ground. He was up so quick, I’d have thought he landed on a porcupine.
I somehow managed to get between them before White Owl was able to tackle her. I shouted for them to stop, and although neither continued in the physical attack, their angry words continued.
“How do you know my language?” I asked, turning to Wildwood.
She looked at me, then turned her gaze back at her brother. Neither replied.
“Do you understand me? It would make my life a lot easier if we could speak,” I said.
White Owl knelt down and retrieved the bow from the ground. Wildwood watched her brother as he returned to the pears and yanked his arrow from the dirt wall.
“Without words, I could never explain where I come from or where I’m going when I leave here,” I said, “If you could understand me, I could better explain my weapon to you as well as all the other things you will see in my house.”
White Owl turned to me, his eyes on the shotgun at my side. I couldn’t be sure, but it appeared that they somehow understood me. I took this moment to draw the Glock out from the holster. I held it high in the air for them to see.
“This is a smaller weapon like the one you just witnessed. If you want to try shooting it, you need to show me that you understand,” I said.
“I understand,” Wildwood said in a calm tone.
White Owl closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh.
“Can I shoot the shiny one that reflects the sunlight?” she asked.
“My sister is bold and believes she is a man,” White Owl said, “She believes she is a hunter and a warrior.”
I lowered the Glock into the holster and then raised the shotgun strap over my head.
“Why… or better yet, how do you know my language? It makes no sense,” I said, allowing the strap to drop below the shotgun.
“Robert secretly teaches the kids in case they see the White Papa again,” Wildwood said, “But the chief forbids us to know the language of the spirits.”
“My sister talks too much,” White Owl spoke sternly in her direction.
“Maddox will not tell on us,” she retorted, “He can’t even speak to the chief anyway.”
“I truly won’t ever tell anyone if you want this to be a secret. You can trust me,” I replied, “Especially if you tell me who the White Papa is.”
“White Papa was a white man like you and Robert, but no one has seen him for probably two summers,” she replied, “He was last seen climbing the Cuyahoga cliffs.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, trying to piece together what they were telling me. It only made sense given the urgency of my father’s teachings that this “White Papa” was his father and my grandfather. And the fact that he was teaching these kids in secret meant he was risking a lot in order to find his father.
“Why did you call my language the language of the spirits?” I asked.
“Can I shoot the thunder bow?” she asked, sidling up next to me again.
While Wildwood may have been able to easily skirt my question by preying on my hormones, White Owl wasn’t so willing. He approached me with arms crossed in front of him.
“You claim not to be from the heavens, yet the chief speaks often with Robert. The chief is the one who calls this the language of the spirits and he knows your friend better than most of us. Why don’t you explain to us why it’s called the language of the spirits?” he asked.
I couldn’t imagine why it would be called that. I knew my dad wouldn’t allow these people to think he was a god or an angel. But apparently he was okay with this title for the English language. He probably even used the title sometimes when speaking to those he was teaching.
But then, if you were to try to explain to someone of a primitive culture that you came from the future, it would be understood that you came from a place that doesn’t actually exist – a place filled with people who haven’t yet come into existence.
“V
ery well. I’ll explain but only after you shoot the thunder bow,” I replied with a grin, “I don’t like seeing your beautiful sister looking so anxious and without satisfaction.”
Her eyes flew open wide and I suddenly wondered if I’d said something wrong. One look at White Owl told me that I probably had. While her look of shock changed into a smile again, White Owl eyed me with suspicion and contempt.
I handed her the shotgun and placed my hand over hers on the pistol grip. I tucked her trigger finger beneath the trigger guard and explained that it was one of the two dangerous areas of the weapon. By now, White Owl was paying close attention so he would understand when it was his chance. I warned them to keep both hands on the rifle and to hold it firmly because of the powerful recoil.
Finally, I showed her how to cock it and then allowed her to aim the weapon at the remaining pears. I reminded her to hold the weapon firmly before placing her finger on the trigger and firing it. Not two seconds later, the shotgun erupted and caused her to lose her balance. She fell backward into my arms without even realizing it.
I held her only a fraction of a second before she leapt forward with the weapon pointed into the air and cheered excitedly for herself. White Owl’s stern and angry attitude changed immediately once he realized he too would be permitted to wield the unattainable power of lightning. He nearly lunged for the weapon in his moment of impatience and excitement before I grabbed it away.
“This is very deadly and you almost had it pointed at your stomach!” I reprimanded him, “These weapons accidentally kill people all the time in my world.”
“In your world?” Wildwood turned to me.
I groaned, wondering why that was the word that stood out. I should have never said it.
I motioned for White Owl to take her place and then assisted him in properly holding the weapon. I reminded him of everything I’d already told Wildwood, getting rapid nods of impatience from him. Finally I stepped back and told him he was okay to fire it. Just like his sister, he pulled the trigger almost immediately. To my surprise, he didn’t lose his balance and his stance remained nearly perfect.
He erupted in what sounded like a cliché Indian battle cry, obviously pleased with himself over his new powers. He turned and offered me the weapon, making sure that it was aimed nowhere but upward. I accepted the weapon and then put the strap over my shoulder, allowing the weapon to dangle at my side again.
“Thank you, Maddox,” White Owl said.
“Yes, thank you,” Wildwood added, “Now tell us about your world.”
“Wow, we just transition straight to that? You don’t want to know how this weapon works or why it’s so loud?” I asked.
They both gave me a look of confusion. I must have said something that didn’t make any sense or perhaps they thought I was silly for wondering such things. I waved away my question with a brush of my hand and then gestured for them to follow me to a larger portion of the beach where I’d noticed some giant boulders we could sit on. I figured this explanation was going to take some time.
Peleewa
“The sun rose today, right?” I asked, getting a nod from the two sitting on the boulder in front of me, “The sun will also rise tomorrow morning. Do you agree?”
“Of course,” Wildwood said.
“Tomorrow hasn’t come yet, but you know for sure that the sun will rise. You also know that winter is coming eventually. It’s not here yet, but it exists because you know it’s coming,” I said, “Are you following me?”
“Sort of,” White Owl said, “But what does winter and the sun rising have to do with your world?”
“I’m not from another world in the sense of another ‘land’. I’m from another world that doesn’t exist yet, just like tomorrow’s sunrise doesn’t exist yet. But I do exist because the time is coming when I will one day be born… the same as the sun exists even when it is night. I have not been born yet and neither has Robert,” I began.
“That’s not possible unless you come from the heavens like you’ve already denied,” White Owl interrupted.
“No, you see, I live in the same land you live in. I was born into the same world you were born, but I was born about five hundred winters from now… long after you two have already died… long after the whole village of Shawnee have gone,” I explained, “I do not live in a spirit world or in any sort of heaven. I live in flesh and blood like you do and I live with many people. But one day, I was taken from my place and sent into the past. Can you imagine if you were taken from your village today and sent to live with your ancestors while they were still alive?”
“Really? It’s possible?” Wildwood rose from the rock with eyes wide, “The gods can take you out of your world and put send you to live with Singing Bear or with the great hunter White Claw? Not as spirits, but as real flesh and blood?”
“Exactly! And yes, it recently became possible in my world. It all started with White Papa. Then Robert came here and now I am here as well. But I need to go back to take care of my mother,” I said sadly.
“You didn’t intend to come here?” White Owl asked.
I looked at the two of them and then shook my head.
“But Robert believes he can send me back to my world,” I said, “That’s why he is looking to build a water wheel.”
“So water is the way to the ancestors!” White Owl said, nodding as he pondered the possibilities, “Or maybe the way to visit our grandchildren while we’re still young and strong.”
“It’s not as simple as that, but it’s true that water is needed to power such a device,” I said.
A bird with a good-size wingspan swooped down to the river as though dive-bombing the water. It surgically removed a fish from the river with its mighty talons and then beat the air with its great wings as it sought the sky again. Neither Wildwood nor White Owl saw this as their backs were turned to the river, but I doubt such a thing would intrigue them as it did me. I don’t think I’d ever seen a large carnivorous bird such as a hawk, owl, or an eagle outside of the zoo.
“When he finishes the water wheel, will we be able to all ride on the river through time?” Wildwood asked.
“No. Well… no, I really doubt it,” I said, wondering why they were so anxious to do something so unpredictable, “None of us who have used the thing ever intended to actually go down through… through the river of time.”
I liked her word for time travel. Granted, they seemed to think the river or the water in the river had something to do with time travel, so they probably didn’t use the term metaphorically as I did.
“So you came here on accident like you said a moment ago. Did you intend to go the other way to visit your descendants?” White Owl asked.
“No, I didn’t intend to use it at all,” I muttered, “I was in my house during a terrible thunderstorm. My dad believes lightning struck the house and somehow initiated the same device that brought him here a while ago.”
“Your dad? Is that White Papa?” Wildwood asked.
I had finally slipped. I had made sure to call him Robert all this time since I’d discovered that my dad was trying to hide his relation to me.
“No, it sounds like White Papa is probably my grandfather. Robert is the one who is my father,” I said to the wide-eyed Indians before me, “Don’t tell anyone. I don’t think he wants it known that I am his son from another time.”
Wildwood looked to White Owl, offering him a devilish grin. I didn’t know what to make of it. She then turned to me and nodded.
“You are keeping our secret about speaking the spirit language, so we will keep the secret between you and Robert,” Wildwood said, “Besides, I think people would not accept you if they discovered you were Robert’s son from a previous woman.”
“Why? What if the other woman was dead or in this sense, not even born yet?” I asked.
“You represent occupied portions of Robert’s heart which no one knew about. Your mother and your siblings also represent this,” White Owl explained, “This
means less of his heart belongs to Squirrel and their children. I don’t think this would go well with tribe.”
“Please don’t say anything,” I begged.
“We won’t,” White Owl replied, “We will keep our word.”
M’thoothwa
We didn’t find any wild animals in the house when we got there. I located my backpack from school and found an old gym bag in my closet as well. We used these to load up everything we could from the pantry. I couldn’t see how two cans of chili beans or a box of Fruit Loops would be shared with an entire village as my dad had suggested, but I also didn’t feel this would be the time to argue either.
After the bags were full, I took the rest of the food and filled a garbage bag. It was only about half filled by the time we were done. I then returned to the gun safe and grabbed two boxes of shotgun shells. If I was going to share my thunder bow with these two, I would need more ammunition.
“What is this?” Wildwood nudged me from behind.
She was pointing to my mother’s bed. I locked the gun safe and then sat down on the edge of the bed.
“It’s a bed. Feel how comfortable it is,” I said, bouncing.
She sat down on the edge, then bounced a little as I’d done. She then lay back and scooted fully onto the queen-size bed with her feet hanging over the side. She stared at the ceiling, her face just inches from where I sat at the end of the bed.
“Can we take this back with us?” she asked, “It’s much softer than my own.”
White Owl came into the room and sat down next to his sister’s feet. Curious about what his sister was looking at, he too lay down next to his sister and looked up at the ceiling.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“This is a bed from up the river of time,” she said, “I want one.”
He sat up in the middle of the bed and then pounded the mattress. He pressed his palm down, noting the springy feel beneath him. He then bounced heavily on his butt before shifting to his knees. And then finally he stood and began jumping. His laughter became a battle cry as he continued to bounce on the bed. Wildwood gave her brother a look of confusion mixed with curiosity. It didn’t take long before her curiosity insisted that she move to her knees and test the springy mattress beneath her. Before I had a chance to reach, she joined her brother, laughing as she nearly hit the ceiling with each leap. She reached for me, smiling so widely that I couldn’t refuse her.
[2014] Wildwood Shadows Page 7