The time is now, Little One. Time to relive the past, so you will understand your future.
The voice of Nahu’ala beckoned to me. The deep, low rumbles drew me to it just as it had before.
Only this time, I didn’t feel any pressure to obey. I followed on my own.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I stood on a high mountain peak, overlooking unfamiliar terrain. The brilliant blue of the afternoon sky was dotted with plumes of wispy white clouds, dancing in the light breeze. The air was crisp as it blew through my hair. My bare feet stood in heavy snow, yet I didn’t feel cold. My eyes scanned the scenic beauty around me with wonderment and awe. From the majestic, snow-covered trees as far as I could see and down to the inverted valley below, it was breathtaking. A wide river cut through the earth, winding its way like a slithering snake between the towering mountains. Even from my perch hundreds of feet above it, I heard the raging rapids and saw the frothy caps of white as the rushing water cascaded over the enormous boulders underneath it.
The smells that assaulted my nose were unknown to my mind, but my soul seemed to recognize them somehow. The hearty fragrance of ancient redwoods; the sweet scent of fir trees; the musky aroma of moose, reindeer, and bear—all melded together with other, familiar scents. Warm tears began to trickle down my cheeks at the untouched beauty I was surrounded by, just as an eagle glided on silent wings in front of me.
Though impossible, I knew I’d been here before. The pull was strong…insistent.
Home.
Through my blurry vision from my tears of joy, I saw tendrils of smoke from small camp fires rise up from the forest floor. Voices floated across the distance and up to where I stood, almost like they hitched a ride on the smoky vapors. The language was beautiful, the lyrical singsong quality full of appreciation and respect for the land they stood upon and lived off of. They praised the Great Spirit for another day of life. They spoke to each other with respect and dignity, acknowledging their devotion and joy to one another. Their voices seemed to be in harmony with the natural bounty around them. I closed my eyes and let the sweet vibrations of their words wash over me.
When I opened them again, I was shocked to discover I no longer stood on the peak. I was in the valley, standing next to one of the small, open pits of fire. The smell of smoke was stronger, mixed with a variety of herbs and local fauna. I looked over at the closest person to me—a young woman about my age with long, ebony hair, woven into an intricate braid. It cascaded down her back and ended just above the rise of her backside and swayed gently as she tended the fire. She hummed as she worked, stirring the embers once, and then moved back to a small mat. It looked like it was some type of animal hide—maybe bison or deer. She began to shred into smaller pieces some type of green plant.
Her face was smooth, the lines of maturity not visible yet. Though I had never seen her before, she looked oddly familiar. As she worked, her humming grew louder, her countenance a sea of serenity. The creamy mocha of her skin and her enormous brown eyes almost glistened as the afternoon sun caressed her with its warmth. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. So young, so naïve and innocent. Entranced, I watched her perform her tasks with grace and ease. I found myself drawn to her and moved closer.
“Hello.”
Silence.
She didn’t move or give any indication she heard me. I squatted down next to her and tried again, this time a bit louder. “Hello. My name is Sheryl. Can you…can you hear me?”
Nothing.
I started to reach out my hand and touch her shoulder, but was interrupted by the sounds of laughter. I turned and watched two young boys running in our direction. The sense of familiarity hit me again, but only with the one boy closest to me. His features blurred under the dirt, sweat, and disheveled hair, but something about his eyes I recognized though couldn’t quite place. They stopped less than two feet from us and dropped to the ground, their squeals and giggles bouncing around me as they wrestled on the ground.
“Looks like they’re enjoying themselves.”
Again, nothing.
I took a deep breath and wondered why she didn’t respond. For a second, I considered if the young woman was deaf or something. But even that wouldn’t explain why she hadn’t seen me or noticed when I sat down next to her. Maybe she was blind as well? I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder but felt nothing. My hand slipped through the air and landed on the ground.
Little One, you cannot touch memories. You can only see them.
Shocked, I spun my head around at the sound of Nahu’ala’s voice. Though I’d heard it in my head, it also seemed to be coming from behind me. When I saw the body attached to the voice, I gasped.
Oh, Little One. Do not fear. I am here to guide you. Not to harm you. Come, I have much to show you—and time is of the essence.
The enormous mouth never moved, yet I heard the words as though they were spoken out loud. The pair of luminous gold eyes the size of lemons held my gaze, the black pupils a mere speck in the afternoon sun. The thick, arctic white coat shimmered under the rays of the sunshine, like it had a million diamonds embedded inside of it. The paws were bigger than my head, and the claws that poked out from under the tufts of white fur were at least three inches long. The muscular body had to be at least eight feet.
Wow, some bath I’m having. Bath salts are drugs, just like what I’ve seen on the news. I’ve got to wake up.
The gigantic cat chuffed, and I felt the vibrations ripple through the ground underneath me. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn it raised its thick, black-tinged lips into a smile before the voice boomed inside my mind again.
Sheryl, rise and follow me. You aren’t asleep, merely in another plane of existence. Come.
My body betrayed me and stood up. Just like earlier, when the voice of Nahu’ala unleashed commands inside my mind, I was overcome with the urge to obey. My legs shook with trepidation once erect because I noticed the beast in front of me had legs longer than my own, its head towered above mine by at least two feet.
I took a quick glance behind me to the young girl and boys. Inside their own world, they seemed completely oblivious to my presence and the gargantuan predator less than three feet from them. I turned back around and bumped right into the hard snout of the great cat. My entire body locked in frozen terror, waiting for it to gobble me up as a small, afternoon snack. The citrine-colored eyes bored into my own. I gulped and waited for the death bite. To my shock, the eyes blinked once, and with a twist of its head, I felt the rough fur against my face as it gave me a loving head butt and began to purr.
Just like Tinker.
The warm head and gruff coat connected with my skin, and all the fear inside of me vanished. It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from my chest. The worry about the intruder in my house, the terror the mysterious notes caused, the fear for my family, poof—gone. Calmness, tranquility, and an almost electrical surge of power flowed between woman and beast. Without thinking, my hand reached up and stroked the heavy coat, immediately disappearing under the mounds of fur.
The purring was so loud it sounded like a diesel truck carrying a heavy load of grain down the highway. I smiled and melted into the euphoric emotions speeding through my mind. I closed my eyes and rode the waves of bliss. The sensation of pure, unending love washed over me and removed all traces of anything else. Never, in my entire life, had I felt so safe, loved, or at peace.
Or strong.
My eyes opened at the nudging of Nahu’ala’s head. I followed his gaze over to the trio in front of us, the boys now calm and sitting on each side of the young woman. Their hands mimicked her movements as they learned while watching her work. The one who looked familiar turned his head in our direction, his dark, chocolate eyes staring right at us. Full clarity slammed into my ribcage and almost knocked me down. Tears formed behind my eyes.
“Oh…my…god. Is that…?”
Yes, Little One. Me, as a child, along with my mother
, Talulah, and my brother, Hattak’katos. The day you are witnessing was the last one we spent here, in this place, before we travelled to our new home. You call it Mississippi—we call it Nanih Waiya. It means our place of creation.
I clamped my gaping jaw shut and blinked a few times. Chill bumps covered every inch of my skin when he said the name Hattak’katos. Old childhood fears of the night of the awful dream from so long ago came bursting forth. My head swam from the input overload.
No way—it can’t be!
My fingers grasped a handful of the fur and hung on, afraid if I let go, my mind would slip into insanity. My throat let out a small gurgle when I no longer felt the coarse coat in between my fingers. I spun around and jumped backwards in fright.
All will be revealed now, Little One. Your time has come to take your place among us. The journey will be long and full of great joy. But as with all life, great joy comes by way of great sadness. Light balanced by darkness. Life balanced by death. I have much to teach you. Come.
Flabbergasted, my tongue didn’t want to work. I watched Papa Joe’s hand extend toward mine, his fingers bent and creased with age. The smile was the same as always, full of warmth and mischief, but there was something else. A combination of strength, power, and an all-knowing look.
My mind burned with questions as I took his waiting hand in my own. The minute our skin touched, the connection before with Nahu’ala was re-established. My pounding heart slowed and again, as it had done before, the worry and fear slipped away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We were no longer in the snow-capped mountain range. The scenery changed in the blink of an eye, and I recognized our surroundings. Though I couldn’t place exactly where in Mississippi we were, I recognized the terrain.
Papa Joe and I stood in a small clearing at the edge of the mighty Mississippi River. The muddy, murky water swirled and rushed by, ignoring our strange intrusion on its banks. The first thing I noticed was a quiet stillness. Other than the sounds of the water and the wildlife, I heard nothing else. No cars, no machinery, no voices, no sounds of humanity.
So many questions hammered inside my head. Instead of trying to corral them and pick out the right one to ask, I blurted out a whole string of them.
“Papa Joe…what is going on? You said back there, wherever there was, your brother was Hattak’katos. So, you’re Nahu’ala? The big cat from my dreams? Is this a dream? Oh, boy, I’m really confused. Maybe I did suffer a heat stroke earlier.”
“Little One. I believe your Holy book says, ‘oh ye of little faith.’ I also believe it mentions, in the book of Ephesians, that our fight is against spirits and principalities—things man cannot see with his eyes. Only with his soul.”
“Yeah, that’s right. It does. But none of what you just said even came close to answerin’ my original questions.”
“If you truly wish to learn and understand, you must master one task at a time.”
I was beginning to get frustrated with his doublespeak. “What does that mean?”
Papa Joe pulled his gaze away from the dirty water and found my eyes. His stare was neither judgmental nor frustrated—simply curious. “Sometimes, I forget the generation in which you were born. The ways of the past have been lost. It means, Little One, to ask simple questions first. Once you comprehend the answer, move on to the harder ones. Build a strong base of knowledge before you attempt to climb to the next level. Without it, your shaky base will eventually fail you and you will remain hopelessly in the dark, the next rung never climbed.”
I let his words sink in for a second. Not that I didn’t understand what he was getting at, but I needed the extra time to cool my racing nerves down. Though I loved Papa Joe, and had ever since I could remember, things seemed different now. Our connection was mystical—transcendent—and nothing I had ever experienced before. But how could that be? Of course, that was probably because I was high as a freaking kite on the stupid bath salts my body was soaking in at home.
“Sheryl, this is not a dream. Our conversation is as real as the bathroom full of the scent of sweet pea and jasmine where your physical body is currently at. Again—we are connecting on another plane—not the one you are used to.”
“I…okay, instead of fightin’ this, I’m just gonna roll with it. So, I’m not dreamin’. We’re really talkin’. On the shores of the Mississippi River in the middle of the summer and not one mosquito has bitten me, and I’m not drippin’ in sweat. While my body soaks in the bathtub at home. Right, so far?”
“Correct.”
“And you, the man I have known ever since I was a little kid and who has been a part of my family since my nana was young—you are also Nahu’ala? The big cat from my dreams who transformed from the stray, Tinker, to save me from umm, oh, what did I call him?”
“The Shadow-Man.”
I snapped my fingers. “Yes, the Shadow-Man.” I stopped, unable to control the sarcasm dripping from my mouth. Even though Papa Joe wasn’t really here and was just part of my screwed up dream, I didn’t need to be disrespectful to him. “And your brother, Hattak’katos, is the Shadow-Man, the one you protected me from that night, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Papa Joe, excuse me for my rudeness. Guess even my sharp tongue has a hard time being tamed when I’m asleep. But please, tell me, am I supposed to believe you are some kind of shape-shifting were…were…cat? One who’s been hangin’ around in my dreams since I was a little girl?”
“Skin-walker.”
“What?”
“The correct term is a skin-walker. Not shape-shifter…or werewolf or werecat. Those are names made up by imaginative minds. And again, you are not asleep or dreaming.”
I chewed on that for a minute. Skin-walker. The second the word left his lips, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Though my mind told me I had to be dreaming because people weren’t able to turn into animals, my heart told me different. The polar opposite opinions running around inside of me made me dizzy. “So…you can change into the form of a white panther or ordinary housecat?”
“Yes.”
“And you haven’t attacked me or anythin’, so what, all these years, you’ve just been hangin’ around me, guardin’ my dreams from your brother Hattak’katos?”
“Yes. Among other things. That is only part of my connection with you.”
I dug deep into my childhood memories of the dream and the circumstances surrounding it. It was buried deep, full of painful images and feelings about the death of my nana. All the sensations, the guilt, wrapped around my heart in a vise, thinking I had somehow killed her, flooded back. Without prompting, my mind went back to the moment I ran through the forest and found Nana. Watched and listened to her bitter defiance at the beast in front of her during her last moments alive. The stoic words she spoke, but the absolute terror behind her eyes when she saw me. The excitement I felt at ripping flesh, my own insatiable need to kill smothering everything else.
Tears formed, and I let them come. Gut wrenching sobs burst out of me and my knees gave out. I collapsed into a sobbing heap and wept.
“Little One, cry no more for her. Ms. Beulah didn’t die from your hands. Hattak’katos is responsible for her death. What you saw was just a vision of my reaction. I arrived too late to save her.”
His words didn’t make any sense. “What? I don’t…I don’t understand. You don’t understand. I…I was there. I know what I did.”
Papa Joe leaned down and cupped my wet face with his warm fingers. “It is you, Little One, who does not understand. Dry your tears now, and listen. Not with your ears, but with your heart.”
The second our skin touched, the connection was back. An electrical surge of warmth spread throughout my body and somehow, even though it made no sense and couldn’t be real, I didn’t believe Papa Joe was lying to me. For a second, doubt crawled through my mind. Did I just want to believe so I could finally remove the gnawing inside my gut that I was the one who killed Nana?
“Put your doubts to rest, Little One, and listen.”
Papa Joe eased down and sat next to me in the soft grass. Instinctively, I snuggled closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder. With one arm around my body in a protective grasp, the other moved out across the water, and he began to speak.
“Water is the substance of life. It is necessary for the survival of all living creatures. Food is important as well, but hunger can be satiated by other things. The need for water cannot. To live, to grow, to be strong, water is the key to life. From the beginning, man and all other living entities have been ingrained with this knowledge. This is why all societies, from human to animals to plants, congregate around a water source.
“This mighty river before you is the lifeblood of North America. The longest and largest of its kind here, it is the source of legend and the birthplace of many a thriving city. It has given life but also taken it over the years it has flowed. Man, in his ultimate prideful stupidity, has tried to tame it, but this kind of power cannot be contained.
“There are several legends of how we came to be here many, many moons ago. Some believe the original clan migrated to this continent after the destruction of King Solomon’s Temple in 722 BCE, not long after it was conquered by the Assyrians. Still, others believe the entire Native American population in North and South America are direct descendants of one of the twelve tribes of Israel. Those who adhere to that storyline believe they were brought to the North American region by God himself because they were the only tribe left who truly kept the connection with Yahweh. No matter which story a person believes, the conclusion is always the same: every person is part of the Creation. There is a bit of truth in each legend, but the real reason we are here, and why, is a secret known only to the guardians.
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