Christian turned and looked at me as I started to hear the drums, he must have seen the look on my face because he smiled. I wondered did he hear them too, did he experience this feeling the way I was?
We went around a bend and I looked up on the other bank of the river and I could swear I saw smoke and a vision of men around a campfire, but not men of today, men of years ago, could it be Native Americans? I dare not mention to Ellie, she already thinks I have a vivid imagination.
Christian looked back at the group, saying something I didn’t hear, and then he looked at me, he looked toward the bank where I was seeing a vision or something close to it. He nodded as if to confirm he knew what I saw. I wasn’t frightened, but my curiosity was peaked. I somehow felt a strange connection, maybe I did have a vivid imagination after all or was it something else?
Friday came and I woke to hearing thunder in the distance and rain hitting the roof of the tent. I threw my pillow at Ellie to wake her and she hurled it back at me. I was thankful the tent wasn’t leaking and my sleeping bag was still dry. We hurried and got dressed and looked out to find other campers pulling in to some of the adjacent campsites.
“Why would anyone want to come camping in the rain?” Ellie asked.
“I don’t know, but I hope it stops before this evening or the presentation at the Mounds might be canceled.
“Kids, get dressed, the van leaves in 15 minutes. We are going to McDonalds, the wood is wet and it will only produce smoke.” Mike yelled.
Rain continued most of the day and we each found ways to pass the time. Some of us played a couple of board games, I stayed in my tent and read. Ellie and Josh went to the camp store and Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan were looking under the tarp to find some dry wood. Pastor Mike was preparing a Good Friday service and he wanted to hold it at 3:00 o’clock, he said that was the time Jesus hung on the cross.
The rain stopped at 2:30 and the sun came out, birds started chirping and squirrels were hustling around the trees. Pastor Mike gathered us around the center of our campground and read several scriptures, then we each were given an opportunity to share something special we had experienced during our trip.
Mrs. Sullivan started. “I was so blessed during this trip, to be with you young people, I am proud of each of you. You have had such nice behavior, respectful and kind to each other, you set a good example for others in our church.”
Mr. Sullivan chimed in, “Ditto to what my wife said, and keep up the good work.”
Josh was next “I had the opportunity to get to know some of the dudes better.” Everyone laughed.
“I liked everything about this trip, Ellie commented, but I think what I liked best was seeing Christian. I think he was a great guide, and I learned a lot.”
“I think we all learned a lot from Christian, Ellie”. Pastor Mike said.
It was my turn and I hesitated. I surely couldn’t share my best experience, the one when I heard the drums and saw the smoke near the mounds when no one else did.
“Maria, do you have something to share?” Pastor Mike interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes, sorry, there were so many, but it was being so close to nature, I felt a real connection.” A real connection with the surroundings, of camping, the campfire, the birds and the earth. A feeling I couldn’t explain.
I am sure the others mentioned their experiences, but my mind had left the group and I was replaying the events of the kayak trip the day before and wondering just how real the experience had been and if Christian had experienced the same as I had. I hoped to talk with him before I went home.
When we left the camp grounds, dusk had turned to a starry night and a bright full moon was coming up in the eastern sky. The day noises of birds chirping had been exchanged for the sounds of crickets and the croaking of bull frogs on a nearby pond.
The mounds were about ten minutes away off of Rt. 19. As we approached the turn off, there was a long line of cars. When we got to the gate and paid the admission fee, I immediately saw Christian standing near the steps to the mounds talking with a ranger. He turned and saw me, waved and completed his conversation before walking toward our group.
“Hi Maria, Ellie. I thought I would show you the best place to sit for the presentation.”
Josh joined us and walked beside Ellie, talking softly to her and then I heard her giggle.
“Okay guys you can’t sit with us if you aren’t going to be quiet, “I teased.
Our group got seated and the program started. The ranger who had been talking with Christian moved to the podium. He shared some information about Crystal River, and the rich history it provided. He then introduced several members explaining what each did. Some appeared to be quite old and he explained they were retired, but participated in volunteer work. They actually had been involved in some of the archeological digs at the site years ago.
One elderly man shared the archeological digs actually gave creditability and proof of the time periods when certain tools were made and the diverse group of tribes migrating from Alabama and Georgia.
Another introduced was a full blooded descendant from one of the tribes. He shared several stories about Shell Island and a couple of stories passed down to him through the generations. He said there were numerous tribes traveling many miles to bury their dead here and other entire tribes migrated here from Georgia and Alabama. He concluded by encouraging us to go to the museum to learn more and to not forget, this was sacred ground.
The program lasted about forty five minutes and afterwards the Ranger invited the group to take the walkway at the bottom of the stairs to visit other key historical sites lighted at night.
“Is the museum open this evening?” Pastor Mike asked.
“No, it will be open in the morning, and I would encourage you to come back, I promise you will not be disappointed.” The ranger thanked everyone and stopped to talk with Christian before leaving.
“Christian, our Saturday morning volunteer for the gift shop is ill, I talked to your grandmother and she is willing to come in at 9:00 o’clock and open. We have another volunteer coming in at 11:00 o’clock. Do you think you could bring her in and take her home, it would be a huge help?”
“Of course, Grandma Bena loves being here, I will make sure she is here before it’s time to open and I will find something to do until I take her home, no problem.” As he looks toward Maria and smiles.
I start to walk away before he sees the redness creeping up my neck accompanied by my embarrassment.
“Maria, can you stay behind for a few minutes, I would like to talk to you?” Christian asks.
“Of course, just let me tell Ellie.”
Christian takes my hand and leads me out to the observation deck to look out over the river. Turning me to face him, he places his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes.
“Maria, I noticed when we were kayaking, you got lost in the environment.”
“Lost? I am not sure what you are talking about.”
“Maria, did you feel the softness of the breeze on your cheeks, see smoke on the bank and perhaps even see visions of years ago?”
“How did you know? No one else seemed to experience what I was, how did you know?”
“Did it frightened you, Maria?”
“No, surprisingly no, it was comforting, especially the breeze on my cheeks, like a feather or soft cotton.”
“I thought so, when I saw the expression on your face, I knew.”
“How?”
“The first time I experienced what you did was also during Easter vacation when my family came to visit Grandma Bena. My Dad and I were also kayaking near the mounds. I felt the same things you did, and heard and saw the same or similar things, but my Dad didn’t. “
“How old were you?”
“It was a couple of months before I turned eighteen.”
“I will be eighteen in a couple of months, do you think there is a correlation of our ages and this place and even Easter?”
“Maria, by
chance are you adopted?”
“Yes, but didn’t you know that?”
“No, I just met you.”
“Oh I thought Ellie might have mentioned it. Why do you ask?”
“Because I think there is a connection of being adopted and what we have both experienced. My grandmother has answered some of those questions for me, but only after my eighteenth birthday.”
“My parents will not tell me anything about my adoption, I have asked many times. I will be eighteen in a couple of months, do you think that has something to do with it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Maria, I am going to give you my cell number, as he reaches in his pocket and scribbled his name and number on the back of a card and handed it to me, keep in touch, and call if you need to talk.”
“Thanks Christian, I feel better after talking to you, I think we need to go find the group before they come looking for us.”
We caught up with Ellie and Josh and the rest of the group talking near the van.
Christian shook Pastor Mike and Mr. Sullivan’s hand and all exchanged good byes. He gave Ellie a sisterly hug. He turned to me and wrapped me in his arms while whispering in my ear, “Maria, go to the museum tomorrow. The museum holds the answers too many of the questions you have, but if it was like it was for me, will not make sense until after your birthday, trust me.”
The next morning after having ham and biscuits for breakfast, we headed over to the museum about 10:00 o’clock. The museum was fascinating, full of rich Native American History with old tarnished pictures and old tools dating back hundreds of years. There was a section devoted to period clothing with numerus mannequins dressed in a period and representing a particular tribe. Moving into other areas of the museum, I kept being drawn to the cases of jewelry at the far end of the museum. Christian’s voice replayed in my head from the night before. Maria, you will find some of the answers to your questions in the museum.
The boys were all looking in the section with tools and other items that boys and men would be interested in and Ellie and the other girls had stopped at one of the cases displaying colored materials made into jewelry. I tried to join them, but I was being pulled like a magnet to the last case that held bracelets, one in particular. It was as though the other bracelets were fuzzy in my sight, but this one was not. The bracelet was made of clear glass beads, almost like crystals, but clearer, purer in some natural form. A familiar feeling washed over me and then I felt it. Even before I looked to see if a door or window was open somewhere in the building, I knew there wasn’t. I knew it was the same soft breeze, the same soft breeze like I felt on the kayak trip, soft and gentle like a feather on my cheek. The breeze vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving me feeling comforted and secure and happy. Happier than I had ever felt before.
I heard footsteps walk up beside me, but my eyes were closed, and I didn’t want this moment to end. When I turned to see who it was, I was surprised and pleased to see it was Christian smiling at me.
“Maria, I am getting ready to take my grandmother home, would you like to meet her?”
“Oh, Christian I forgot she was working in the gift shop. Of course, I would love to meet her.”
* * *
As we walked into the gift shop, an elderly lady who appeared to be dressed in period clothing to go along with the museum stood with her back to us behind the counter.
“Grandma.”
The woman turned and I was stunned to see what appeared to be a true descent of a woman from an Indian tribe.
“Maria, this is my Grandmother Bena.”
“Grandma Bena, this is my friend Maria, I told you about this morning.”
I was hoping my mouth was not hanging wide open as I extended my hand to shake the one that was out stretched toward mine.
“Maria, you are even lovelier than Christian said you were.” She spoke with perfect English, I am not sure what language I thought she would speak, and I think I was just in awe.
I felt the signs of embarrassment creep up my neck. As our hands touched, her warm eyes seem to look deep within my soul, my heart seemed to flutter and I felt the breeze. She smiled as our hands parted, as did Christian.
“Maria, have you enjoyed your trip to Crystal River?” I heard her ask.
We talked for a few minutes and then the volunteer to relieve her showed up. Grandma Bena came from behind the counter. She hugged me and as I started to walk away, I turned back to see her one more time.
The next words she spoke would stay with me throughout the trip back to Alabama and in the months to follow.
“Maria, my child, you are a lovely young woman, she said. You may have many questions about your life, but I promise you, one day soon they will be answered. Cherish the spirit within you, you have the spirit of a little feather.” And she smiled.
Sunday came and we were sad to leave. Pastor Mark held a brief Easter service with scriptures and we sang a couple of songs. His message was to reiterate the meaning of Easter; a man who over two thousand years ago, came to this earth, suffered great pain and died for each of us so we would have eternal life in heaven. He asked each of us to spend time on our trip home reflecting on the importance of the day.
I shared the experiences of my trip with my Mom when I got home. She looked concerned, she asked me not to share the experiences with others, especially my Dad. I continued to ask my Mom about my background. She patiently listened, but I saw no action on her part to help me find answers to my questions.
I called Christian a week after we got home from the trip. I wanted to know if he had shared my experience of Crystal River with his Grandmother in light of the comments she made to me when I left the museum. He assured me he had not and I believed him.
* * *
“Maria, my Grandmother, as I am sure you guessed, is a Native American. She is a very spiritual woman and often sees in her spirit things others do not see. You can trust the comments she said to you. By the way, when is your birthday?”
“It’s May 15th.”
“Okay, I think we should keep in touch, I will call you on Sunday evenings, if that works for you.”
“Yes, I have youth group on Sunday evenings at the church, but I am home by 8:00 o’clock.”
We continued to talk every week in the weeks that followed becoming good friends. I was beginning to develop feelings for Christian and I believed he was for me. Had a connection. No one knew this, except maybe Ellie.
I was on the phone with Ellie one Thursday night, when my Mom asked me to come downstairs.
Mom, Dad and Danny were sitting at the kitchen table when I came into the room, I took my regular seat and waited.
“Maria, your birthday is next Tuesday. Eighteen is special, is there someplace you would like to go to dinner?” Mom asked. Picking a special place to eat for your birthday was a tradition for our family, one we had for as long as I could remember.
“I think we should go to Chuckey Cheese, let’s go there Maria.” Danny piped into the conversation.
Dad was being very quiet and I wondered what he might be thinking.
I interrupted him. “Dad, what about a seafood restaurant? Could we go to Sunset Point at Fly Creek Marina?” Dad smiled, looked at Mom and she nodded.
“Yes, honey, I think that’s a great suggestion” he said as he stood and walked into the garage.
There was something definitely going on with my Dad. Later the same evening when I was in bed, I heard my parents arguing. I tried hard to listen, but the words were muffled, and then I heard my Mom crying.
I was excited and inpatient for Christian on Sunday evening wanting to share my Birthday plans with him.
“Christian, I will be eighteen, do you think something will happen, do you think my parents will tell me something about my past?”
“Maria, slow down girl. I really don’t know, but if something does happen and you find out something, call me, don’t wait until next Sunday when we talk. Promise me. “
“I promise. I have to go, I still have to finish a report due tomorrow. Hopefully, we will talk before next Sunday. Bye.”
“Goodnight Maria.”
Monday was a day that seemed to last forever, the clock in each class seemed to be in slow motion, but at last the 3:15 bell rang for school dismissal. Now I just had to get through the night. The next day was my birthday and I was expecting big things to happen in my life.
The following morning, I woke to a little body jumping on my bed. “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Come on Maria, get up. Mommy made you blueberry pancakes and I can’t have any until you have yours first. Please please hurry and get up.” Danny said as he tried to tug the covers off of me.
“Okay little man, leave and I will be right down.”
“Happy Birthday, Maria.” Mom placed a stack of blueberry pancakes on my plate, and poured a glass of juice for me.
”Thanks Mom.” I stood and gave her a big hug.
“Honey, I know your Dad and I usually give you your birthday present at breakfast, but your Dad had an early meeting, so if it’s okay we will give it to you after we get home from dinner tonight. I hope that will be okay with you.””
“Sure Mom.”
When we reached the Marina that evening, we had a table out on the deck. We ordered our food and watched the fishing boats come into the marina. Seagulls were following hoping to catch a fish thrown to them. I loved watching the interaction between the birds and the fishermen until our food arrived. The evening was the best. I loved this family and felt so blessed my rents had adopted me years ago.
After having ice cream and cake at home, Mom went and retrieved my three gifts from a cabinet placing two of them in front of me and holding onto the other.
The smaller present was from my parents and was a lovely sterling silver cross neckless with my birth stone in the middle. I loved it. The larger present, I was sure was from Danny, it was wrapped with way too much scotch tape.
A Paranormal Easter: 14 Paranormal & Fantasy Romance Novellas Page 63