Walks Through Mist

by Kim Murphy

  “And you have no desire find out?”

  The light changed, and he hit the gas pedal. “I do, but as I explained to Shae, the trail went cold over thirty years ago. Even if I managed to get hold of the records, which is highly unlikely, they wouldn’t tell me anything I don’t already know. Not only do I not know my tribe, I have no idea what my actual birthday is either. My foster parents adopted me and decided my birthday was in August because that was the month some hikers found me curled up by the trunk of a tree in a forest. Then, they wondered why I had no desire to celebrate the date that was assigned to me.”

  “’Tis sad. Everyone should know his ancestors.”

  “In an ideal world, I’d certainly agree. When I get a few days where I can actually sit down and look over the records I have, I’ll check to see if there are some clues that I’ve missed in the past.”

  “Do not wait too long. Time is not always on our side.”

  He didn’t like the way she had an ill omen and now worried about time growing short. For him? Or herself? “Maybe so, but the time needs to be right before a person undertakes such a pursuit.”

  “Aft Arrohateck lads go through the huskanaw to become warriors, their allegiance shifts from their family to the good of the tribe. Your tribe does not benefit ’til you know who they are.”

  “Doesn’t my allegiance to society by trying to clean the scum and assholes from the streets mean anything?” He pulled alongside the curb in front of Colwell House. “Phoebe, the first thing I had to learn upon becoming a detective was patience. Even if I get lucky and wrap up a case in short order, the judicial system crawls. You said we’re connected. I believe you. If we’re patient, the answers will reveal themselves for both of us.”

  The corners of her lips tipped slightly into a smile. “You are right.”

  He parked the car and went around to open Phoebe’s door, but she got out before he reached it. “I’ll see you to the door.” By the door, he gave her a goodbye kiss. “I need to see Valerie before I leave.”

  “I shall fetch her.” Unlocking the door, she showed him the way inside.

  As she started down the hall, he grasped her hand and drew her back, kissing her once more. “I’ll call you when I can. ”

  “I shall look forward to our next meeting.”

  He watched her until she vanished into the next room. God, he was an idiot. After his split with Shae, he had sworn to himself to never love another like he had her. At least Shae had known she was from the twenty-first century. Maybe he loved Phoebe because of the highs. Between the sex and what she called “the dreaming,” he fought the urge to blow his vacation time and spend all of his days with her. Patience. He had to live by his own words.

  “Lee?” Valerie entered the hall from the parlor. “You don’t need to stand here by the door.”

  “It’s before visiting hours,” he reminded her.

  “After last night, I think we can bend the rules this one time.”

  “How’s Carol?”

  “Shaken but fine. You were right. He had been a little rough with her.”

  “I ran the check on Fletcher. He’s had a couple of minor drug arrests and a speeding ticket, but the fact that he’s taken up stalking suggests that he probably hasn’t given up the drugs. Because he’s already assaulted Carol and resorted to threats, his behavior is only likely to escalate. Try and convince her to involve the police.”

  “I will.”

  Due in court, Lee said his goodbyes and drove to Richmond, spending more than two hours testifying in a murder case. It was nearly one by the time he arrived at his desk, where Shae waited for him. When she stood to greet him, he noted an engagement ring on her finger. “To what do I owe the pleasure of two visits in one week?”

  She glanced around at the desks of the other detectives. “Can we go somewhere to speak?”

  He escorted her to the cross-examination room, where they had talked the other day.

  “Phoebe canceled her appointments with me. I thought you might know why.”

  He shrugged that he didn’t know the answer.

  “Then you haven’t seen her?”

  “I didn’t say that. I dropped her off at Colwell House this morning, but she didn’t say anything about canceling her appointments.”

  Her face reddened as she got more excited. “I just got her speaking about the past again, and now this. Lee, she’s not ready to go out on her own. She still requires extensive therapy. If she’s no longer comfortable with me, then let me help her find someone else.”

  “Let me talk to her. I’ll let you know what she says.”

  His composure seemed to calm her. “That’s not the only reason why I needed to speak with you,” she said.

  “I thought not.”

  “Ed dropped by my office the other day.”

  That wasn’t what he had expected to hear. “Why?”

  “He’s concerned about you. He says that you’ve become preoccupied lately, making mistakes that you wouldn’t normally. I said that I’d speak to you, but I can easily guess the source of your distraction.”

  “What if I told you that a linguist has confirmed Phoebe’s language to be Virginia Algonquian?”

  “I’d say that you’re trying to distract me.” She blinked. “You’re serious, aren’t you? How can that be? Hasn’t Virginia Algonquian been a dead language for several hundred years?”

  “Two hundred.”

  The number formed on her lips. “There has to be a logical explanation.”

  “I’m sure there is. Phoebe could be a linguist herself, but why would no one have reported her as missing? She could have been abducted by space aliens, or she just might be—”

  “No.” Shae furiously shook her head. “And if you’re even considering the possibility she’s actually from the seventeenth century, then I’m willing to bet that she’s continuing to hypnotize you. You’re not the gullible sort. Dammit, Lee, think with your head, not your prick.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms. “I think you know me better than that.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have said that, but if she’s hypnotizing you, you may not be thinking rationally. I recently read of a case where an actress was hypnotized by a stage hypnotist. She was highly hypnotizable and found the experience highly erotic, so she volunteered again. The experience led to a personal relationship, then a sexual one. When he learned she was from a wealthy family, he used hypnosis to coerce her into marrying him. He kept re-hypnotizing her when they had sex. They got married and divorced within a year. He, of course, landed himself with a nice alimony payment.”

  Aware that Shae held little regard for stage hypnotists, he thought her story over. “You’ve repeatedly stated that I’m not a good subject.” She opened her mouth to add something, but he continued, “Yes, Phoebe knows where I’m vulnerable, and I admit I find the experiences fascinating. But she has never tried using ‘hypnosis’ while we were getting it on, nor do I have any money to speak of.”

  She flinched from his bluntness. “Don’t believe me then, but there are too many unknowns about Phoebe Wynne. You know it as well as I do, and it’s affecting you, personally and professionally. Even your partner has noticed it.”

  “I’m properly forewarned. Thank you, doctor. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before we adjourn?” He glanced at the diamond on her left hand.

  “I was going to tell you the other day, but the timing didn’t seem right. I hope you’re not angry.”

  “Why would I be angry? You deserve to be happy, Shae.”

  She brushed away a brimming tear, obviously hoping he hadn’t seen it. “You mean that, don’t you?”

  “Hell, I’ll even come to the bachelor party if Russ will invite me.”

  Breaking the tension, she laughed. “You just want an excuse to drink beer and drool over naked women.”

  “Damn. I didn’t know I needed an excuse for such activities.”

  Laughing harder, she finally caugh
t her breath and headed for the door. Before reaching it, she faced him. “Thanks, Lee, and don’t forget to speak to Phoebe.”

  “I won’t,” he assured her. As she closed the door behind her, he wondered how he was supposed to feel. He had loved her. Maybe he still did—in a different sort of way. Shae was right. They were better friends now than when they had been married.

  * * *

  Lee concentrated on the flame. Each time he participated in the dreaming with Phoebe, he entered the “other” state faster. Phoebe was counting on him to help her find answers. Instead of sighting the crow, he watched a streamlined shape of a falcon soar overhead. Attired in a mantle, loin cloth, and leggings, he saw the world through Lightning Storm’s eyes. Slung over his shoulder were two dead turkeys. Near him, other warriors carried fish and furs. They climbed the dirt path to the fort on the precipitous ridge until reaching the palisade with corner watchtowers.

  The guard greeted them with a familiar wave and motioned for them to enter. The falcon stayed with him, until it suddenly shifted direction and swooped after a thrush. The songbird attempted to move out of reach by flying higher. The predator used speed to its advantage and remained carefully poised above its prey, and then it made a headlong dive. Brown thrush feathers scattered on impact.

  The falcon’s hunting success was a good sign for the coming day. Along with Two Wolves, Lightning Storm went to the mud and daub cottage of William Powell to trade. Powell’s wife, Mary, smiled upon seeing the turkeys he had brought. Two Wolves offered catfish and shad. She invited them to sit at the wood table, where she served a dish the tassantassas called gruel, consisting of oatmeal and boiled milk.

  As on any other trade morning, Powell and his wife jested and laughed, while Two Wolves and he exchanged hunting stories. Walks Through Mist had taught him the tassantassas’ language, and Powell comprehended some Algonquian.

  After the meal, Powell stood. “I must tend to my fields soon. Let us finish our trade.”

  Even if he overlooked the fact the land had once belonged to the Arrohateck, he failed to understand why Powell plowed and planted like a woman, when he should be hunting game. He and the other warriors provided the tassantassas with their main supply of meat.

  Two Wolves sighted Powell, which left the woman for Lightning Storm. Mary had a nervous smile, as if knowing why they were here. Walks Through Mist had informed him the name Mary was bestowed upon tassantassas little girls in honor of their savior’s mother. He had never killed a woman before and cursed the tassantassas for bringing dishonorable warfare to their shores. The orders had been clear. On this day, no one would be spared. Absolutely no one.

  Detecting something amiss, Powell reached for his musket. Two Wolves charged him. The gun went off. Powell fell. Before Mary could scream, Lightning Storm seized a knife from the table and slit her throat. Blood spattered his hands and chest. With remorse, he caught her to break her fall. She gasped one final breath in his arms. Gently, he lowered her body to the mud floor and said a silent prayer.

  Forever, the shock and surprise imprinted on her face would haunt him. Women and children. Shamed by the action, he would harbor his torment in silence.

  With loud whoops, Lightning Storm and Two Wolves overturned the table, sending a lantern crashing. Wounded cries shrieked from outside the door. They had not worn warpaint to lull the tassantassas into believing that it was a normal day. Now the tassantassas were all dying or running for their lives.

  Unable to continue, Lee blinked back the image. He rubbed his hands together but couldn’t wipe the blood from them. Clamping his eyes shut, he lowered his head.

  “Lee...”

  Phoebe touched him on the shoulder, and he trembled. “He was too ashamed to tell you.”

  “A wife knows when something ails her husband.”

  “March 22, 1622. My parents called it a massacre. Why is it always called a massacre when Indians kill whites, but not the other way around?”

  “Lee...”

  The blood and the woman’s face....

  “Lee...”

  He finally opened his eyes. The blood had vanished from his hands. For the first time in his life he had viewed his history—not the one he had been raised with—through Lightning Storm. “I now understand. The attack wasn’t meant to annihilate the English. Paramount chief Opechancanough organized the attacks to remind the colonists of their place. At what price? It cost them their honor, and the waves of colonists kept coming, demanding more land. It only gave the English more reasons to kill, burn, and rape.”

  Phoebe gave a weak nod.

  Invigorated by the dreaming, Lee placed a hand under Phoebe’s chin and tilted her head until her gaze met his. “Why did you cancel your sessions with Shae?”

  She looked away. “You are the one I must share with. I cannot explain any better. Shae listens because ’tis her occupation. She does not believe. You are uncertain, but you listen with your heart.”

  “She’s trying to help.”

  “For now ’tis as it must be. Lightning Storm will only reveal what happened through you, from one warrior to another. I must know how he died.”

  Lee stroked her cheek. “Then you’re certain...?”

  “Aye. I could not love you as I do otherwise.”

  He drew her trembling body into his arms. Phoebe kept her promise and didn’t withdraw from him. He worried though. After the loss of Dark Moon, how would she react when she learned the truth about Lightning Storm?

  * * *

  36

  Phoebe

  At Colwell House, my tutor, Liz Sedgewick, instructed me in what she called the three Rs, “reading, writing, and ’rithmetic.” Even though I puzzled over the phrase, she said I was a fast learner and suspected that I had some education in the “basics” previously. I could not recall ever having been taught in such a fashion, but I was thrilled by my newfound abilities, especially when it came to reading books. My thirst for knowledge ne’er ran dry.

  Whilst studying history, Liz glossed over the founding of James Towne, as she did not wish to debate with me what was written in the book. It mattered not that I could speak the Algonquian language as was spoken afore the English arrived. When she moved on to other periods, I learnt of the Revolution for Independence from England, a Civil War that had erupted betwixt the states themselves, along with two world wars and several political wars.

  I was in turmoil. Was this my past or future? And did people of the twenty-first century contemplate anything aside waging wars? Indian warriors oft fought amongst other tribes but not with the intention of annihilating them. To try and help me understand, Meg and Carol showed me pictures of a town called Appomattox.

  At first, I expected to see familiar longhouses. Instead, there was a red-brick building called a court house, several other brick buildings, including a gaol, and wood structures. “But the Appamattuck is a tributary tribe of the paramount chief, Opechancanough.”

  “No, Phoebe,” Carol said gently, “it’s the town where the Civil War ended.”

  Ever since Carol’s incident with Master Fletcher, she had taken an interest in my progress. Alongside Meg, she oft befriended me and helped me with my studies.

  “Have none of the tribes survived?” I asked. “Lee said they have.”

  Meg squeezed my hand. “Lee’s right. It’s been a struggle, but some have survived.”

  Breathing deeply, I relaxed slightly. “I feared you were going to say they are all gone. Then why can I not meet with them?”

  Meg and Carol looked at each other but had no answer. Meg returned to the book, showing me pictures of red, white, and blue flags, muskets that were not much different from matchlocks, and uniforms. Upon seeing the drum, I could hear its beat, signaling hospitality, afore gunfire and screams erupted. Houses burned, and Crow in the Woods wandered away. I had tried to save the lad.

  “Phoebe...”

  At the sound of Meg’s voice, I blinked, and the smell of smoke faded. “I was reminded of the
Paspahegh.”

  Meg closed the book. “I think that’s enough for one morning.”

  But I could not rid myself of the ill feeling. Lee. “I must speak with him.”

  “Who?” Meg asked.

  “Lee. I fear something has happened to him.” I could not get to the phone fast enough. In my haste, I forgot how to dial.

  Carol took the phone from me and dialed as I recited his cell phone number. With a shaking hand, I put the receiver to my ear. I held my breath as it rang once, twice, thrice.

  “Crowley.”

  Hearing his voice was like music to my ears, and I let out my breath. “Lee, you are well?”

  “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

  My hand continued to tremble, as my foreboding hadn’t abated. “I have a feeling that you are in trouble.”

  “I’m fine,” he reassured me again. “Listen, Phoebe, do you mind if I call you back later? I’m in the middle of an investigation right now.”

  “Be careful,” I whispered as I hung up the phone. I feared that I would lose him as I had Lightning Storm.

  * * *

  37

  Lee

  Puzzled by Phoebe’s call, Lee pondered it for a moment. Could it be intuition? Uncertain how much he believed, he joined Jan Kelsey, a forensic anthropologist, and her assistant, Mike, beneath the protection of a leafy canopy that sheltered them from the mizzling rain. Lee explained the situation to them. “The property owner was doing renovations, when he noticed disturbed soil in the family cemetery. A decaying finger poked through the surface, which the owners thought most likely didn’t belong to the grave’s occupant. Their assumption was correct. The original grave belongs to Carrie Anderson, a woman who died in the late-nineteenth century. My crew has enlarged the hole to gain access, but we’ve left the body and what may remain of Mrs. Anderson for you to examine. We’re hoping you can give us some leads as to who was buried on top of Mrs. Anderson.”