by Kim Murphy
“Are you worried about me or her, doctor?”
“Both of you, you fool.”
“Then save your breath for Phoebe. I can take care of myself.”
“Like hell.”
A uniformed officer approached Lee and handed him a report. After reading it, Lee crumpled the paper.
“What is it?” Shae asked.
“The tag number was from a stolen car.”
All too familiar with his frustration in dealing with a cold case, Shae knew he wouldn’t exhibit any emotion on the job, but he would at home, curled up with a six pack. Or in bed with Phoebe. Although she felt relieved she had left the life of a constantly fretting wife behind her, she worried how such a lifestyle might affect Phoebe’s delicate constitution.
Shae checked her watch—nearly seven. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
He waved at her to leave. “Go home to Russ. I’ll call if need be.”
“Lee...”
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Take care of yourself.”
He gave no response and vanished down the hallway. Shae took her cell phone from her briefcase and dialed home. When Russ picked up the phone, she said, “I’m on my way. And yes.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll marry you.” The phone dropped on the other end.
“I’ve asked how many times? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“As a psychologist, I’m all too aware that people often make the same mistakes again and again, but while working on this case with Lee, I realized the two of you are like night and day. I’ll be home as quick as I can fight my way through the traffic, and I expect the champagne to be chilled.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After a quick “I love you” and a “goodbye,” she returned the phone to her briefcase. Pleased with her decision, she debated if she should tell Lee. Later—after she had a chance to celebrate with Russ.
* * *
24
Phoebe
By the time Lightning Storm and I returned up river, messengers had already delivered the word of Pocahontas’s death. Peace betwixt the Indians and English had been tenuous at best. Some said the paramount chief suffered intense grief over the loss of his favored daughter. Instead of experiencing joy at the birth of my son, Dark Moon, I feared what lay ahead. His skin was brown like Lightning Storm’s. Only his blue-green eyes gave the secret of his heritage away.
Lightning Storm reassured me. The Arrohateck would always accept the two of us. Of that, I had no doubt. He misunderstood my uneasiness. I feared the glimpse of the world the spirit dog had shown me many seasons afore.
Like all Arrohateck women, I carried Dark Moon on a cradleboard whilst I performed my chores. When he cried in hunger, I suckled him. Unlike Momma’s reservations with Sly Fox, I held no qualms other than to satisfy my son’s needs. By taquitock, fall of the leaf, I gathered herbs for my medicines and nuts for food for my family. I was comforted by the other women working around me, ’til I heard Yellow Butterfly cry out in pain.
I made my way over to Yellow Butterfly, who braced herself against an oak tree. She had tripped in a hole and twisted her ankle. With the aid of two other women, I eased Yellow Butterfly off her feet with the tree supporting her back. I unwrapped her legging. Her ankle was already swollen and severely blackened.
Without being told, the women gathered the materials for a litter, whilst I collected moss for a compress. Fearing that Yellow Butterfly’s ankle might be broken, I cut a cedar branch and splinted her lower leg. I packed her ankle with moss and grass afore wrapping her leg with a pliable sapling branch. Satisfied that her leg would be fine ’til we returned to town, I went down to the stream to fetch water.
I spotted four bearded Englishmen, wearing armor and carrying muskets. I backtracked my steps, hoping they hadn’t seen me.
A firm hand latched onto my arm. My fists flew, but a man with reddish-brown hair caught my forearms. With all of my strength, I fought him. I nearly broke his grip, when a gap-toothed man joined him. They pulled the cradleboard from my shoulders and Dark Moon fell to the ground. Unable to answer my babe’s cries, I continued to fight the two men. A rough hand seized my arm and twisted it behind my back. Now there were three. They were so close I could smell their grimy stench of unwashed flesh. I was surrounded. They held me so tight that I couldn’t move.
The gap-toothed man forced his tongue into my mouth, whilst another fondled my breast. A gunshot went off.
A fourth man with long dark hair joined the group. “Gentleman, we are to return this one untouched. She’s English.”
The other men howled with laughter.
“She doesn’t look English,” said the gap-toothed man. He pressed his mouth to mine once more, gagging me with his tongue.
“I said leave her!”
He obeyed, and the man with dark hair approached us. “I am Captain Henry Wynne,” he said. “You will not be harmed.”
Moments passed for me to translate his words in my head, for I thought in the Algonquian tongue. I looked to Dark Moon crying in his cradleboard. “Please,” I said in broken English, “let me fetch my son.”
“Indians do not travel alone,” Captain Wynne replied. “The other women can take care of the child. We aim to bring you in, Phoebe Knowles.”
“I’m Walks Through Mist.”
“From now on, you shall be known by your English name. Your father awaits you.” Captain Wynne placed a blanket around me to hide my bare breast.
My father? But he had died aboard the Sea Venture. I struggled as the men led me away from Dark Moon. As a consequence, they lashed my wrists with hemp. I kept looking over my shoulder for glimpses of Dark Moon, straining to turn back to him. Soon, his cries faded. With me as a prisoner, the men walked two miles through the forest afore arriving at the Powhatan River. A small wooden sailing ship that the men called a pinnace waited near the bank.
“Master Knowles,” Captain Wynne called to announce our arrival.
A man with streaks of gray in his blondish-red hair descended the plank of the pinnace. I gasped. I had tried my best to forget him. There were deep wrinkles near his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him, but I easily recognized him. “Poppa,” I said weakly.
Tears entered his eyes. “My God, Phoebe, what have the savages done to you?”
At first, I was unable to find my tongue and muttered my distress in Algonquian.
“From now on you shall speak English,” he commanded.
All Arrohateck women were taught from a young age they might be taken captive by another tribe, but the English were my tribe. “We thought you had died at sea, Poppa. The Paspahegh saved us from starving at the colony. I have a husband, and you have a grandchild. His name is—”
“That life is behind you.”
In Dorset he had ne’er shown me any affection, but he wrapped his arms around me.
The thought of ne’er seeing Lightning Storm or Dark Moon again pierced my heart. I could not return his embrace. I also feared Lightning Storm would retaliate if he found me. He was no match for English guns. I had to find a way to gain the confidence of my captors and escape on my own.
* * *
25
Shae
Shae unconsciously held her breath as Phoebe blinked. The session had uncovered more information than she could have anticipated. Although Phoebe still recalled everything taking place in the seventeenth century, Shae found the abduction by her father highly significant. Future sessions would likely uncover that he had been abusive. He might have even been the one to have whipped her. “We’ve made a lot of progress this time. How is everything else?”
Phoebe took out her notepad and started writing. Her concentration was intense when forming the letters. With a proud smile, she handed Shae the note.
The letters were smoother and less scrawling as on the night of the party. “Your writing certainly is improving. Wonderful, Phoebe.” Shae checked the list of Ph
oebe’s accomplishments. “Cooks on a stove. Good. Vacuuming. Running a dishwasher. Laundry, using a washing machine. These are all good.” She set the note aside, wondering if she was ready to take on the topic both of them had been avoiding. “Okay, Phoebe, I’d like to move onto something else. I presume everything went well after you left my home the other evening.”
Phoebe frowned, as if uncertain whether to disclose her relationship with Lee.
“You appear troubled.”
“I’m not,” Phoebe insisted.
“In this room, you may say anything you wish. It stays between the two of us, unless you tell me otherwise.”
Phoebe stood. “I must leave.”
“Phoebe, if it’s about Lee, I had already guessed. It’s all right. I can maintain my professional distance.”
Phoebe reseated herself, clenching her hands together on her lap. “What is your conjecture?”
“You tell me. Do you love him?”
“Aye. I have since meeting him.”
The truth didn’t bring the flood of emotion that Shae had expected. With an untroubled sense of focus, she truly could help her patient. “Does your love stem from the fact that he reminds you of Lightning Storm?”
“Whilst it’s true Lee is much like Lightning Storm, he also differs vastly. I cannot explain better ’til I understand myself.”
“It’ll come to you in time.”
A slight smile appeared on Phoebe’s face. “Thank you, Shae.”
Not only had they broken through some of Phoebe’s frustration, they had made significant progress in discovering who she was and where she was from.
* * *
26
Phoebe
Wednesday eve came to pass afore I saw Lee again. As usual, he collected me at Colwell House. Instead of taking me to the ordinary, he brought me to a smoke-filled tavern. Even in the colony, the custom had confused me. The Arrohateck used tobacco for ritual purposes, not for everyday smoking. Here, youth and elder, men and women inhaled cigarettes.
The tavern served “burgers and fries,” and a metal box played music that caused me severe ear pain. Perplexed by Lee’s selection, I watched everyone carefully and soon realized that using one’s fingers whilst eating was considered acceptable in this establishment.
I dipped a fry in a red sauce as Lee had done and tasted sweetness mixed with a salty potato. Intrigued, I tried another as he told me about his week since our parting on Sunday. He was growing comfortable in my presence, and I delighted in that fact.
In turn, I wished to wait ’til we were alone afore revealing my latest remembrances. Aside from that, I had naught to contribute to the conversation, as I had only performed mundane chores and attended menial tutoring. I was painfully aware that, in this society, my level of schooling could be accomplished by any six-year-old child.
Detecting my melancholy, Lee reached across the table and grasped my hand. “It’s going to take time.”
“’Til then, I’m a lost soul.”
He gently squeezed my hand. “I’ll help you through it.”
I longed to be taken into his arms. Only then could I pretend that my nightmare journey was anything but.
“I’m a lot like you,” he said.
His voice had been solemn, and I sensed his need to convey the story. “Because you were adopted?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t important.”
He had come close, but a warrior would reveal his thoughts in his own time. For me to question afore he was ready would be disrespectful.
“Lee!” came an overly loud male voice. A man with puffy brows and a cleft chin, but a kind, smiling face, struck Lee on his shoulder like he was a comrade, then winked at me. “I see why you haven’t been hanging around here much lately.”
Lee stood. “Phoebe, I’d like for you to meet my partner, Ed Bailey. Ed, Phoebe Wynne.”
Afore I knew it, several other detectives gathered round our table. Some had women on their arms. There was also a female detective amongst the group. All hailed me a hearty greeting, and I finally understood why Lee had brought me to the tavern.
They inquired about my accent.
“I’m English,” I replied. More questions. “Aye, I’m from Dorset.” On and on, and I feared that I might say something that would distress Lee, as I had no wish to make him an object of ridicule. Afore long, the group dispersed, except for Ed.
Ed seated himself in the chair aside me. “Why haven’t I heard a word about you before now? Lee doesn’t bring just any woman here.” He glanced from me to Lee.
“The time never seemed right,” Lee responded with a shrug.
Ed’s grin widened, and his eyes twinkled. He began telling me tales of the cases he had worked on with Lee. “We were trying to nab a suspect that had run into the woods. I ordered no one to fire, unless absolutely necessary, so we could flush him out. Next thing I know, Lee’s blasting away, cursing that he had missed him. I repeated my order, but Lee kept swearing and blasting. Turned out that he was shooting at a copperhead.”
“The goddamned snake had coiled around my leg. Nearly scared the shit out of me.”
With a laugh, Ed added, “We apprehended the suspect, but the snake got away.”
A special bond existed betwixt these men that I had seen amongst warriors. Either would lay down his life for the other, and their stories reminded me of those told round the campfire. As Ed recounted another tale, a man walked by with tattoos of skulls, candles, and flames on both of his arms in an array of reds, greens, and yellows.
“Phoebe?” Lee asked.
“I have ne’er seen a man with tattoos afore—only women. Warriors paint—”
“It’s quite common around here,” Lee quickly interrupted.
Ed sent me a look, not quite understanding, when a thin man with sunken eyes walked up to our table. He pointed a finger at Lee. “Crowley...”
Ed tensed his hands, whilst Lee calmly sipped his ale.
“Going to ignore me like the drunken redskin you are? Everyone knows Injuns can’t handle their liquor.”
Ed started to rise, but Lee grasped his partner’s arm, signaling him to stay where he was. Lee shoved back his chair, and stood. “Good to see you too, Snyder. I presume your cheery hello is to let me know you’ve been released. I appreciate the warning. I’ll know to watch my back now.” He sent the man a fierce stare.
The sunken eyes looked from Lee to Ed, and now a gathering group of detectives. He slunk off under their watchful eyes.
Lee reseated himself and waved at the other detectives that he was fine. “Sorry about that, Phoebe. An asshole that I put away a few years back.”
“Put away?”
“Sent to prison.”
“I’ll give the two of you a chance to talk.” Ed got to his feet and grasped my hand. “It was great meeting you, Phoebe. I hope to be seeing more of you.”
I thanked him, and he wished me “goodnight.”
“Welcome to a cop’s life,” Lee said, watching me with concern.
This time into which I had been plunged was not so very different from the one I had left behind. I knew not some of the words that had been uttered, but the threats behind them were clear.
“If you’ve changed your mind about us, I understand.”
I met his gaze. “My confusion lies with the century, not you.”
“You’re sure?”
“You’ve aided me in my moment of need. Now that you require my understanding, how could I turn my back?”
A smile spread across his face. “You continue to take me by surprise.”
He needed no prodding when I suggested that we return to his apartment. Once inside the door, his quiet calmness gave way to other pressing concerns. He led me over to the divan, knelt afore me, and shoved my skirt above my hips. In his haste, I thought he might forget the condom, but he carried one in his wallet.
When we joined, I no longer compared his touches to Lightning Storm’s. Only the man in my arms mattered.
I had been sent to this time for him. Our lives were as intertwined as our bodies. Here I was on the edge of intersecting planes of the past, present, and future. All existed simultaneously in the circle of time for us to meet.
With a shudder, I slumped against him. He held my head and kissed me. Because of the past, the future was ours for the taking.
* * *
27
Lee
Relaxed beyond anything he could imagine, Lee watched curiously as Phoebe sifted through his collection. Wrapped in his bathrobe, she picked up a medicine staff covered in beads, feathers, and bells.
“It’s Lakota,” he said. “The rattle is Cherokee.”
“I don’t know the Lakota or Cherokee,” she replied, shaking the gourd, “but the Arrohateck had similar rattles. They also had these...” She pointed to the flute and tomahawk. She inspected the arrowheads. Some were made from stone, others bone. Her hand came to rest on one crafted from deer antler. “The maker was a brave warrior.”
“Keep it if you like. I can’t make any sense of the lot.”
“I shall cherish it.” Her hand closed around the arrowhead. “Lee, I can teach you the dreaming. You will uncover your own answers.”
“Shae said the dreaming is nothing more than hypnosis.”
“’Tis not hypnosis.” A knowing smile appeared on Phoebe’s lips. “Shae requested that I not engage in the dreaming with you. I thought she feared it. Now I see the truth. With hypnosis I can recall that which I’ve forgotten, but the dreaming is much more. My spirit travels to aid in my healing.”
“How does that explain me being there too?”
“We are connected somehow. Only time will tell us why, but Lightning Storm has chosen you to reveal that which was. If I show you the way, you can discover your own path.”