Long Snows Moon

by Stacey Darlington

  Recent tears remained frozen on her cheek. Was Moon alive? Had she survived the fall?

  Her eyes welled up again and produced more tiny icicles. The guilt she felt for scolding Moon made her moan in anguish.

  Do not cry, my sister. Make good use of this period of rest.

  Devon rolled over onto her back. A white buffalo stood above her with eyes bright and charitable.

  “I must be facing north,” Devon mumbled, surprised that she knew this. “You are the animal manifestation of the spirit keeper of the north. You are Waboose.”

  Then you are not lost after all.

  “I am lost and I can’t find my dog, that’s why I’m in the woods. I’m freezing and I want to go home. Why did I end up here?”

  The questioner often knows the answer.

  “This is all a dream. I haven’t even left my house and my huge, safe, warm comfortable bed. Maybe all of this is the residual effect of another night of heavy drinking.”

  You understand now.

  She looked around to glare at the buffalo but it was gone. “What are you saying,” Devon called out, “that all of this is because of my drinking?”

  Devon realized the lap of luxury, though a wonderful place to reside, had not exactly prepared her for survival in the elements. The spiritual connection she thought she had and the books she’d scarcely read were flimsy musings and vague memories. She clutched the arrowhead.

  “Is this a vision quest?” she asked aloud. “A medicine walk?”

  Was it all just a dream? She was sure she’d seen the breath from the buffalo’s nostrils and felt the warmth of it on her face. Had she slipped into another realm or had she simply lost her freaking mind? That was a good question for the buffalo. Therefore, she asked it aloud.

  “Am I losing my mind?”

  Quite the opposite, you are expanding it. This is your quest and you are now seeking answers in the north.

  The buffalo was above her, speaking without moving its mouth. The puffs as it exhaled were rhythmic and soothing. Again, Devon allowed herself to be in the dream.

  You study, you read, but you have no faith. You seek knowledge but do not listen.

  “What should I know?” she asked, sitting up and regarding the animal with respect.

  North is the time between midnight and dawn the darkest part of the day. It is the time of birth and death. When you seek answers in the north, you will gain knowledge of the feminine aspect of our Creator. You will learn the practice of healing. You will learn of self-sacrifice. As the buffalo gives of its self, its whole self, to nourish and sustain, you must learn to give of yourself.

  “I read that, I remember that,” Devon mused. “North is the direction of wisdom. And the buffalo is often sought for its wise council.”

  You will find what you came to seek.

  Devon blinked and the buffalo was gone.

  “But I didn’t come here to seek anything! I came here by mistake!”

  She flopped down and kicked her leg like an insolent child.

  A sound in the distance pulled her from her reverie. She noticed a light from above and beyond dancing through the trees. She heard a woman’s voice, and she thought she heard her own name. The light vanished and once again, the darkness settled in around her.

  The flutter of wings startled her. The raven appeared, flapping its wings with portentous fury.

  “You again,” Devon grumbled.

  She tried to stand but her ankle would not hear of it. Her only options were to crawl or to hop on one foot. She opted for the latter. The Gucci loafers she chose to wear that day proved to be a poor choice, not to mention she was sans one. She used a nearby tree as support and hopped a few times, falling into the next tree, hopped a few steps and so on. The exasperating raven followed suit, hopping alongside of her, stopping when she stopped, hopping when she hopped.

  “Stop hopping and stopping,” Devon said. “Why did you lead me here? To lose my dog and in doing so lose the last damn thing that was important in my life? Is that what I’m supposed to learn?”

  The raven ignored her and continued with its mimicry until they emerged from the woods. Devon looked up the embankment and knew she was where she started. She wilted onto the snow.

  “Moon! Where are you?”

  The raven joined her and gazed at the night sky. It let out a chilling screech, with the same cadence as Devon’s cry for Moon.

  Devon observed the bird, tempted to reach out and touch it. It probed her with its shiny, black eyes, as if bored by her, began preening itself.

  “Hey, bird, why don’t you do me a favor and fly around and look for my dog? You seem to know your way around here.”

  The raven flew.

  “That bird is as real as my ragged fingernails. This is no dream. I’ve got to get back up there.” She began crawling up the hill. “I need someone to help me find Moon.”

  Her attempts were futile, for every few feet she climbed she slid back double. The embankment was too steep.

  “Damn it!” she screamed. “Damn it all to hell!” Her voice echoed back and the chill settled on her like an icy sheet. Defeat and despair made her weep aloud and she found herself wishing for the companionship of that annoying bird.

  Devon traced the arrowhead around the edges of her mouth, stabbing her lip with the tip. She found a somewhat comfortable place to sit at the base of the embankment at the foot of a tree. The view of the overpass above was a comfort. The occasional car that crossed brought her hope. She wished for her shoe and a dry pair of pants. While she was on the subject of wishing, a strong drink and a warm fire weren’t bad choices either, with Moon safe and cozy beside her, of course.

  She heard something behind her and half expected to see the raven again, or maybe the buffalo or the bear. Instead, she saw a beam of light bouncing toward her. She shaded her eyes and fell backward with a start.

  From the light, an enormous golden eagle emerged. Devon was awestruck by its size and presence. It stood before her, eye level, where she sat, and Devon felt herself warmed by its radiance.

  I am Wabun of the East. The light of illumination is my gift to you. Clear your muddled mind and see what is all around you.

  “I can’t believe this is real,” Devon began to sob. “It is too much.”

  Tears are necessary to cleanse your heart. Cry until you are renewed.

  “Then what?”

  You will heal.

  “Is that my quest?”

  It is the quest we all share, spiritual awareness. The need to know there is something beyond the realm in which we live. Something we cannot see, hear, or touch, but sense enough that we begin to question reality.

  “At this point I’m beginning to question reality, period,” Devon replied.

  There are many realities and realms. Clear your mind and you will see.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Turn off the light or we will be revealed.

  Jameson obeyed the raven and crouched behind a large tree. From her vantage point, she saw Devon sitting at the base of the embankment. Devon’s beauty astonished even in light of her current state of disarray. She listened as Devon spoke, knowing she was with Wabun.

  “I want to know about realms and spirituality, but right now I want to find my dog. I’m worried if she survived the fall.”

  She survived the fall.

  “Where is she? Can you tell me that? Can one of you animals out here tell me that?”

  The answers you seek are hidden deeper within the wood. Follow the light of illumination.

  Wabun vanished.

  “Great,” Devon sighed and flopped back onto the ground.

  Jameson retreated. She danced her flashlight beam back toward Devon in hopes she would follow. She shoved Devon’s loafer into her back pocket knowing she would have a good head start. When she arrived at the clearing by the stream, she sat at the bank. The water was black slate. She tossed a rock and watched the ripples it created. She thought about the great Medicine Wheel,
the circle we walk toward perfection of being. She’d designed a small medicine wheel in this clearing and went to it now. She took a rock from the formation and tossed it into the stream.

  Life is an endless circle and Jameson found herself back at a point in the circle where she started. She began to collect rocks and arrange them in another formation, pausing to bounce the beam through the trees. When her raven emerged, Jameson turned off the flashlight and melted into the shadows of the dark woods.

  “Are you are responsible for bringing her back?” Jameson asked the raven.

  Long Snows Moon needed my assistance. There is more to life than work and study. You must experience other facets to a human life.

  “I am accustomed to your riddles and cryptic ways, but tell me what other facets must I discover?”

  Love and intimacy.

  Jameson snickered. “I am not discussing those things with you, never, Sir Bird. Now, be quiet, here she comes.”

  She watched Devon lurch into the clearing and collapse, face first, to the ground. Jameson resisted the urge to rush to help her.

  * * * *

  “Moon?”

  An animal slithered across her back and Devon screamed. She found the energy to sit up. She strained to see in the darkness. Its eyes glimmered like tiny diamonds by the light of the moon. It raised its head and flicked its tongue, mesmerizing Devon with it gaze. Devon was unafraid.

  “The animals in these woods all speak, do you?” Devon asked the snake as she pulled her jacket around her.

  Of course.

  “They all have advice for me,” Devon added as she found her flask. She took a long pull and started to laugh. “This is nuts.”

  It is not advice we offer. It is our magic.

  “What is your magic?”

  Transmutation.

  “What am I changing into?” Devon asked amused.

  A believer. A seeker.

  Devon nodded and drank some more. “I thought snakes represented the underworld.”

  I teach death and rebirth, new awakenings, sexuality.

  Devon nodded and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

  Keep your wits about you. We are all prey to some other creature.

  The snake slithered away and blended with the ground. Devon shivered and looked around the clearing. She saw Jameson’s rock formation. She crawled over and strained to make out the form. “Weareallone. That doesn’t make sense,” Devon muttered. She separated the words. “We are alone,” Devon, breathed, “hell, that’s spooky. Others must have been lost out here.”

  “She read it wrong,” Jameson whispered to the raven.

  For now. She will understand in time.

  “I’m going to her. She’s freezing and scared to death. I can’t leave her.”

  Patience.

  Jameson reclined on the cold ground scowling at the moon. “Patience is for the birds.”

  Sometimes, but you do try mine, my dear.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The raven always seemed to be spearheading some sort of spiritual shift for Jameson. He led her into the woods the day the stream dared to swallow her. He’d done nothing to help when Jameson tried to rescue a fawn from the icy water. In fact, he abandoned her in one of the darkest moments of her life. It happened almost two decades ago in the clearing where Devon now sat.

  * * * *

  The stream was shallow in places but had extremely deep points where Jameson couldn’t find the bottom. Jameson knew the stream well as she had swam and fished there every summer of her life. It was late in the season and late in the day when Jameson sat on the bank sketching her own reflection for an art project in school.

  Across the stream, a tiny fawn approached the edge of the water, its long legs still wobbly and uncertain. Jameson scanned the woods behind it, puzzled its mother wasn’t doting close by.

  The fawn bent to drink but became alarmed by a ruckus behind it. It darted from the sound but lost its footing and slid into the stream. Without hesitation, Jameson tossed her canvas aside and dove into the water. She took the fawn into her arms but the animal was terrified and flailed in fear. One small hoof caught Jameson above her left temple and knocked her out for a moment. When she came to the fawn was out of her reach and caught in the current. Jameson tried to stand and slipped into a deep spot. For that instant, as she was suspended beneath the water, Jameson wondered if she would ever surface. She couldn’t leave her mother alone. She could not bear another tragic loss. When her feet touched the bottom, Jameson punted and exploded from the water. She swam to the edge and scrambled from the river. She saw the fawn caught in some roots at the bank a few yards ahead.

  Jameson rushed to the animal and lugged it from the water. She placed her hand on the animal’s side and felt its ragged breath.

  “It’s okay,” Jameson cooed. “It’s going to be okay, now.”

  She cradled the fawn’s head in her lap, stroking her. Jameson gasped when her hand came away with blood.

  “Oh, no,” Jameson whispered, biting back tears. “It’s okay, little sister. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Jameson rocked and soothed the fawn until her legs went numb under its weight, until the sun traded places with the moon. Until the fawn let out a final sigh and surrendered to the darkness.

  Jameson held the dead fawn through the night, stroking its fur and crying. An owl watched her from across the stream, its gaze pitiless.

  “Go away,” Jameson scowled at it.

  Our sister is with her creator now your job is done.

  “My job? What job?” Jameson asked.

  You help them cross the bridge.

  “You mean I help them die? No, I don’t want to, it is too hard. It hurts my heart.”

  You were chosen because you are strong and full of compassion.

  “I don’t want to,” Jameson yelled.

  Go home, child. The owl was stern.

  “What about the fawn? I can’t leave her here.”

  She belongs to the woods. You may come back and pay homage to her spirit if you choose, but now she belongs to the woods.

  * * * *

  Jameson swiped away tears the memory evoked. She peered back at Devon who found the stump Jameson carved into a chair. She had a perfect vantage point of the surrounding woods as well as a spectacular view of the stream as it shimmered with the reflection of the moon.

  “Remind me to put this in my diary,” Devon muttered, taking another pull from her dwindling flask. She rested her head and closed her eyes for a moment but felt the presence before her. The fawn was close enough to touch.

  It observed Devon with patient, empathetic eyes and spoke in the wind as the others had.

  There is a new adventure for you. You must reconnect with the innocence and gentleness you have lost. This is a fresh start.

  “What a delicate, beautiful creature,” Devon breathed.

  What a delicate, beautiful creature are you.

  The fawn turned from her and walked into the stream. It melted into the dark water.

  Devon began to cry.

  “We are all alone doesn’t make sense, not with all of the amazing creatures in the woods,” she said. She crawled back to the rock formation and looked again.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Devon whispered. “I get it now! We are all one! We are all one!”

  Now it’s time.

  “We are all one, that’s true,” Jameson announced as she entered the clearing. “Hello Devon.”

  “How do you know me?” Devon shielded her eyes from the flashlight's glare, stunned to see an actual person where she had expected another animal.

  “I found Long Snows Moon.”

  “You found Moon? Is she okay? Where is she?”

  “She’s fine. She’s at my store, safe and sound.”

  “Your store?” Devon tried to stand but only managed to get to her knees.

  “Let me help you.” Jameson lowered the flashlight and knelt in front of her.

  Devon
gasped when she saw Jameson. “It's you.” She touched Jameson's face. “Is it really you? I mean is this real?”

  “Yes, I'm real.” Jameson placed Devon's hand over her heart so she could feel it beating. “I have longed for you.”

  “That's exactly what you always say in my fantasies, that's how I know you are just another hallucination.”

  “You're having hallucinations?” Jameson grinned. “Tell me more.”

  “I’ve been out here for what seems like days, in these haunted woods, looking for Moon. I keep having delusions of animals who speak to me offering magic.”

  “I see, and the fantasy part?” Jameson stroked Devon's hair.

  “You come to me in my dreams but they aren't actual dreams. You miss me and kiss me and keep me from being lonely.”

  “You mean like this?” Jameson slipped a hand around her waist and another on the back of her neck. She pulled Devon against her and nuzzled her face. She kissed her ear and whispered, “I have always been with you.”

  “I don’t think you are real,” Devon pushed Jameson away and reclined on the cold ground. She stretched out and stared at the star filled sky. “This is the cruelest trick these woods have played.”

  Jameson lounged beside her, lacing her hands behind her head. “I offer the wisdom of the wolf as you become aware of your true spirituality. You will learn about balancing family responsibilities. You will teach sacred wolf magic.”

  “Maybe this isn’t a hallucination,” Devon rose up on an elbow and smiled at Jameson.

  “Why?”

  “Because the Jameson in my dreams doesn’t talk this much.” Devon kissed her mouth to quiet her.

  She caressed the stranger who was not a stranger, familiar with her mouth and tongue. Devon moved her hands along Jameson's body, pausing to squeeze her muscled thighs.

  “You work out, I see,” Devon whispered between kisses.

  “Yoga and running.”

  “Very nice,” Devon admired as she moved on top of her.

  Jameson took Devon's face in her hands. “I hope you aren't embarrassed when you realize this isn't a dream, fantasy, delusion, or hallucination.”