Totem

  I land sweet kisses on Ty. My lips find his and I feel the contours of his mold to mine. These are the precious moments I crave even if they are the last.

  “I will go with you,” I state.

  I search his face. Briefly I see excitement in my acceptance flick through his eyes before he closes them leaning in to get lost in my kisses. I push the fear of meeting the tribe out of my thoughts and get lost in this moment with the man I love.

  Chapter 21: Judgment

  “It’s going to be ok,” Ty assures me as he squeezes my hand.

  I am painfully aware of how sweaty my palms are. They always sweat when I get nervous and I am beyond the point of nervous as fear begins to rush through me. Uncertainty crosses my mind as realization sets in that my vast future once laid out in front of me is now in the hands of a few. I search the meadow for signs of hope, but even the sun casts no light bright enough to ward off my fear. Song birds singing without a care in the world only seem to mock my predicament. My eyes flit wearily. My worries are so plenty that sleep eluded me last night only adding fatigue to my dreary situation.

  I want to run into the woods. I want to hide in the shade of the trees, but here I stand the third tallest object in a vast field. The tallest object stands behind us as a symbol of what causes the struggle in our relationship.

  “It will be over shortly.” Ty, the second tallest object in the field looks down at me. I take my gaze away from the tree line to look into his eyes. They are the same beautiful eyes that captivated me so many months ago. Even now, in the midst of our trial, I find myself getting lost in them. Ty gives me a crooked smile and I feel my heart melt. He squeezes my hand once again letting me know it is alright as he leans in to kiss me on the forehead and for a few minutes I grow calm. I look around at our surroundings. Unceremoniously, Ty and I have walked hand in hand taking our place in the center of the meadow. The tallest object in the field is a fifteen foot totem rising up with a golden eagle on top spreading its wings over the meadow. I turn my head around to look at it. It is a symbol of all the animals a chosen Totem can turn into. Silently, I make note of each animal’s face. They are fierce animals. They are nature’s warriors etched one on top of the other. No matter their placement on the totem, they all commanded respect. I turn back around and face the fifteen chairs in the semi-circle in front of us. Each wooden chair has armrests and a medallion carved into the head. Each medallion has a different animal. The fifteen carved medallions reflect the fifteen animals on the totem. Only one chair stands out. The chair located in the very center sits higher than the rest. On its crest is the eagle. Its wings defiantly spread out, threatening to break the perfect circle that encases it. I can only guess this is the seat for the appointed leader of the elders, a group that is so closely tied to the Totems they are meant to oversee.

  The whole set up is surreal. It is a dream. I close my eyes and take a deep breath holding it in my lungs until the pressure forces the air back out.

  If only Ty was a normal guy. I withdraw the thought just as quickly as it entered my brain. If Ty is normal, then he would not be the man I fell in love with. All of his life experiences mixed with who he is deep down inside and the gift of being a Totem have made him the man he is standing beside me today. I squeeze his hand letting out one long sigh.

  My flambeaux, I think as a small smile crosses my face.

  Ty is my light. Like those people who hold the flambeaux sticks in the parade, he holds a flame that helps guide me. His warmth is something I was unaware of a year ago, but now that I have found it, I can’t step away. I look up at Ty one more time. He stands calm and collected. His face resolute on the task set before him. He has done this before. He has gone in front of the elders many times before, but were the subjects so dear to his heart? I would think not. How is he so calm? How can he be so sure?

  In a few minutes fifteen men and women will walk forward and fill the empty seats. With stern eyes, they will question us. They will want to know every little detail about us. Then they will judge us. The fate of our future as a couple lies in their hands.

  Ty looks down at me once again meeting me eyes. My face must look worried. His own face falters slightly for a few seconds. My heart reacts to his look by racing uncontrollably in my chest. My palms have become like rivers as the sweat trickles down between our connected hands. He looks over at the tree line then down at our hands.

  “We don’t have to do this,” he speaks solemnly. “You can still back out of it if you think it is too soon.”

  I look into his face inquisitively and his eyes meet mine. His face so certain only minutes ago begins to falter as a wave of emotions crash over it and for the first time since we arrived in this meadow, I see the doubt in Ty. Relief washes over me as the human side of Ty steps out from behind the shadows of his beautiful guise. Not only that, but relief spurred by the choice Ty has given me. I can run if I wanted to. I can wait another day and still have Ty in my life. Most importantly, my choices are my own and for the first time since entering the field, I feel in control of my own destiny.

  I smile up at the man whom I love slightly turning my body to face him. My free hand lifts up resting comfortably on the back of his neck. I stand up on my tippy toes coercing his head towards mine. My lips lightly land on his. I give him a lingering kiss.

  “As long as you’ll have me,” I reply, “I will be yours.”

  He leans down and kisses me back. His arms wrap around me pulling me tight to his firm chest and my body lifts off the ground. The passion of his kiss takes every breath I have left out of me. When his kiss ends, he leans his forehead onto mine slowly letting my feet touch the ground again.

  “Forever,” he whispers. “I will have you forever if you let me.”

  I get lost in our embrace. In that moment I am reminded of the needs of my heart. It is so closely attached to Ty that I know I will stand trial again and again in hopes that this feeling and Ty’s touch will last the rest of my life. In his arms, I grow stronger. Suddenly, the slow and steady rhythmic beat of the drums sound in the distance through the trees.

  “It is time.”

  With those words, he gives me one last kiss and a hug before facing forward. I turn my body forward yet my eyes to linger on Ty’s face. His face grows strong, resolute like stone as the drums continue their unrelenting cadence. He gives my hand one more squeeze before releasing our connection for good. My boyfriend has been replaced. There beside me stands a warrior.

  A brief moment of panic overtakes me from the loss of our physical connection. I cannot help but feel alone even with Ty standing right beside me. I hear the faint sound of footsteps crumpling the debris and brush on the forest floor. It is a sign the elders are getting closer. I take in Ty’s face one more time before staring off into the direction of the noise. I stand tall trying to mimic Ty. The monotonous thud of the drum grows louder and for the first time I see the creator of the sound. A small teenager with solemn eyes steps out of the tree line and into the meadow. He cannot be any older than fourteen but he carries himself with the professionalism of someone twice his age.

  Behind him follows the procession of elders the beat pulsating them forward as they continue their unrelenting march towards Ty and I. The hollow sound of the drum begins reverberating through my chest forcing my heart to take heed and beat in rhythm. My breaths draw in quicker as anticipation fills me. I draw as much courage as I can from somewhere deep inside, but I am only human. Worry and doubt left creeps up like the unwanted waters of the tide threatening to break my strength. I stare forward attempting to mimic Ty’s warrior pose, but it does nothing to push out the worry.

  The drum continues its unrelenting beat as the elders draw closer. Their faces become distinguishable between each other allowing individuals to rise up from the crowd. I focus my eyes on them mentally noting each face etching them into my memory. I want to remember the people who are deciding my life for me.

  Sometimes, it is only when faced with obstac
les that you realize something deeper. It is in the midst of this procession of elders that a whole new realization comes to me. I chance one more glance at the man who I am standing for. He is my flame and it is in that I realize the truth.

  It all became suddenly clear; him saving me from death, the way he closed after me when I ran away, the spark I see in his eyes every time he notices I am watching him, and the painstaking care he puts into loving me makes it so blatantly obvious to me now. I was blind before but now, faced with the judgment from others, I see what I mean to him.

  He may be my flame, but I am the electricity that has given him new life. I am the pure energy that charges him. In that realization, I find new strength. My body surges with power. It is the power I have always carried inside me. It is the surge that Ty is attracted to and the energy he uses to fill himself. With a new perspective, I look back up at Ty. Softly, he touches the back of my hand acknowledging my gaze and offering comfort, but it is a comfort I no longer need. For in myself is the strength to power us both should the need arise.

  The beat of the drum resonates in my chest but no longer is the beat controlling me. It is my heart that is dictating the rhythm driving it forward. I watch the individuals that make up the elders as they turn in front of us and begin to take their seats. The old lady holding a cane from the pool and legend weekend took the first. The youngest and strongest man sits in front of the stag medallion. They continue filing into seats until all that is left is one man and the seat that sits the highest. I watch as the golden eagle elder walks in with his white, long hair hanging over his face and a gaze fixed downward. Each step seemed a struggle. He did not use a cane to walk but it probably would have been recommended by most doctors. I see the effort in his body to hold himself up and propel it forward. Even with time mercilessly against him, he fights. He fights to remain the proud warrior that emulates from his soul. My eyes are drawn to him. There are familiar qualities I see in him that make him stand out from the rest. With slow, smooth movements, the last elder takes his seat.

  The tireless drum continues pounding. I stare forward at the fifteen people who will decide my fate. One by one, their eyes fall upon us. The old lady smiles and greets us with a nod. In contrast, the elder in front of the stag burrows his stern gaze into us. I look at each and every one of their faces. Some I can tell their thoughts. Others are unreadable. Finally my gaze settles on the white haired elder sitting on the highest seat. He stares at a bit of earth in front of him. The rhythm of my heart quickens causing the drum to quicken. Slight panic begins to fill me as the surge of energy inside me increases.

  Finally, the leader of the elders looks up sending the drum into a panicked frenzy as individual beats become indistinguishable. As if on cue, my heart picks up pace as I gaze into his eyes. He is different. The fourteen around him all have varying shades of brown eyes that are indicative traits of their genetics from a proud lineage of various Native Americans. The face looking back at me shares the same proud lines, but his eyes surprise me. Looking back at me are the same vibrant greyish blue eyes I have seen in the mirror all these years.

  I feel the surge of electricity through his gaze as a small smile flits across his lips. The reassuring smile giving away everything that I know. I know that no matter what the outcome of the trial is that Ty is mine and I am his. The world cannot pull us apart. Even his people who he gives up his own freedom to are obsolete. It is like what Shakespeare said, ‘Love is not love when in it alteration finds or bends with the remover to remove. It is an ever fixed mark.’

  Ty is the mark and I am the arrow ever fixed to him, constantly propelled together by electricity. No amount of obstacles or hurdles can get in our way. Our love is the kind that weathers the storm. In fact, ours is the energy that drives the storm sending sparks of lightning shattering to the ground hoping to bend Earth’s will to our needs.

  I meet the white haired man’s blue eyes with my own and smile. My heart slows down to a normal rhythm and I puff out my chest a bit. Throwing all caution to the wind, I reach my hand over and grab Ty’s. He flinches slightly but settles in relaxing in my touch. I squeeze his hand taking one last deep breath as the energy surges between us. The drums deafening beats become continue indistinguishable from one another as a blur of sound vibrates around us.

  “I am ready for this,” I whisper to myself. I feel nothing but power rising up in me as I utter my three final words before the ceremony. “Bring It On.”

  The drum stops.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  E M Lathrop graduated from the University of New Orleans. She spent nine years in the lovely city then married a military man and has been traveling ever since. She currently resides in Hawaii with her husband, young daughter and two dogs.