"Come on," she finally said. Seeing that ugly monkey on Diepger's shoulder had made up her mind. She was done ignoring the situation. Unless she was suffering a psychotic break, Honi was her best chance to find out what was going on. If he had the same experience, maybe he knew what to do about it.
Adi didn’t want to let go of his large, warm hand but didn’t know how to hold it any longer without it becoming awkward. Needing her hand to open the door out of the building was a good excuse to let go. When she glanced over at him, he seemed disappointed for a split second before his usual serene expression took over.
“I need a cup of tea. You?” she asked self-consciously.
Honi smiled weakly. “Yeah, lead the way.” They walked shoulder to shoulder for the brief distance to the coffee shop. Their footsteps crunched in unison on the loose gravel and the occasional small rock got flung aside. Spring noises were all around them. The conversational chatter of students hadn’t managed to scare away chipmunks and blue jays.
There was an odd tranquility over the campus that belied Adi’s inner turmoil. She was grateful for the little breather it allowed her. Constantly having to ignore what was plain for her to see was eating up her nervous energy. She was craving Honi’s state of mind, his calmness. He seemed incapable of being rattled, and Adi was looking forward to learning how to achieve his Zen—a feeling which lasted another ten seconds, until Honi stumbled, dropping his books everywhere and hissing a curse in exasperation.
And there, for just a moment, Adi saw the wolf, that had appeared in her dream, walking by Honi’s side. There was no doubt, Adi would have known the creature anywhere. The animal was massive. Striding next to the tall boy, its shoulder reached as high as Honi’s hips. The large paws gave away its youth, but the sapphire-blue eyes held a wisdom beyond its age. The vision only lasted for a second, but the wolf looked straight at Adi and… smiled?
Adi returned the smile reflexively, and before she could straighten her face, Honi said softly, “You see him?”
For a moment Adi wanted to deny it, but then she sighed and nodded. Holding her breath, she waited for the inevitable response, for the smirk, the pitying widening of his eyes.
Instead Honi picked up his books, took her hand again and said, “You’re the only one who can, you know? Well, besides me, obviously.”
Adi was still slightly in shock when they arrived at the small two-story building with its red brick facade and green awning. The young man politely held the door for her and she slipped into the dark interior. The clattering background noise of coffee shops everywhere soothed her racing thoughts. Hushed murmuring, the sharp wet hiss of the cappuccino machine and the clinking of porcelain added to the soundscape. What a pity that she didn’t like coffee, she thought yet again. The smell, warm and deep, wrapped around her senses like tendrils of liquid comfort.
She walked to the front counter and ordered a cup of orange pekoe, with a feeling of regret of missing out on a big secret that most other people shared, but that she was excluded from. Then again, coffee tasted gross, she remembered defiantly, lifting her head and meeting the barista’s judging look straight on. Honi added his chocolate frappe order with a friendly smile. Adi watched him closely—the amused expression on his face suited him.
Still, she had a reputation to uphold, so she said sharply, “I don’t like coffee, okay?”
Honi lifted his hands in mock surrender. Still smiling, he paid for both beverages despite Adi’s admittedly weak protest. They picked up their orders, and Honi led the way to a wooden table in the back of the room. The terra-cotta feature wall was complemented by a soft chocolate-brown sofa that was just the right level of squishiness to be supremely comfortable, yet firm enough to offer some support. Adi had snuggled into a corner of the leather three-seater many times, and she quickly outpaced her companion to secure her favorite seat. Honi gave her a slightly irritated look and settled on the single leather chair instead.
“I haven’t been here a lot,” he admitted.
“I love the atmosphere in here. Particularly the way the coffee and spices smell,” Adi replied. She adored the scent of freshly baked muffins mingling with the cinnamon-and vanilla-flavored coffees. It reminded her of her grandmother Oma-Adi back in Germany, about the stories she’d told of Scheherazade beguiling the sultan with 1001 stories. Oma-Adi would sometimes sip her special chai tea, exuding the same fragrance of warming scents that to Adi encapsulated all the magic of the Orient. She sighed contentedly. Then she remembered why they were here and her mood changed quickly.
“So you can see them too?” She stopped herself and pulled up her shoulders. This was something she’d been spending most of her life denying, so saying it out loud felt daring and brash.
Honi didn’t answer immediately. His long body sprawled in his chair, legs parted, thumb stuck in his front pocket. The large glass with its dark contents topped with whipped cream covered the lower part of his face as he sucked thoughtfully, but his warm brown eyes were looking steadily at her.
Adi twitched a little under the attention. People, men, didn’t usually look at her like that. Eventually, Honi put his glass down and sat forward. He continued holding her gaze with his intensity.
Adi looked at him expectantly and Honi wasn’t quite sure how to start. Her outfit was drab, her hair parted in the middle and tied into a messy ponytail. There was nothing special about her at first glance, but the closer he looked at her, the more he noticed. The girl was truly beautiful. She obviously didn’t know this herself, which added to her appeal. Her perfect lush lips, her cute nose, slightly turned-up at the end, her luminous honey-brown eyes, now slightly narrowed in growing irritation, all made her increasingly attractive.
“Are you quite done staring yet?" She lifted her eyebrow as she waited for his response. He liked this about her as well. She certainly wasn't a pushover—maybe a little too aggressive at times, but always with an underlying vulnerability that made him feel like protecting her.
Before she could say anything else, he put his glass down. "There are stories about people like us in our tradition," he began slowly.
"People like us?" Adi interrupted.
"People who can see spirit animals. I've been able to see them since I was a little child. The shaman recognized my gift early on and trained me."
"Why do you keep calling this a gift?" Adi looked a little upset. Honi's heart went out to her. It must have been very hard for her to be able to see people's souls but not understand what she was seeing. Once again, he silently thanked his family, who had taken such great pains in educating him and showing him his path.
Then he looked back at Adi's troubled face and tried to think how best to approach this. "It's a gift because we are the intermediaries between the spirit world and the representations of the human spirit. Soul, essence, character, it all means the same. When we die, our spirit rises to another realm, the spirit world."
"Yeah, I'm not really religious," Adi interrupted.
Honi could see that he was losing her, so he continued quickly, "This has nothing to do with organized religion. These stories have been around for many, many generations. And aren't the animals you see around you every day enough proof that there is more to our world than people know? Do you think it's a coincidence that all our mythology has animal representations of human characteristics?"
"What do you mean?" Adi leaned forward a little.
"Well, you know I'm Mekui’te. Our people have many stories that were passed down the years. For example, Wi’ite, the great trickster, was both a spider and a man. Wanna hear the story?”
Adi nodded, “Yes please, I really love fairy tales.”
Honi laughed. “I’ve never heard anybody refer to the great trove of Mekui’te legends as fairy tales! There are no princesses or Prince Charmings, and a lot of them are not exactly PG.”
Adi’s mouth twitched a little. “Really? That sounds interesting, please carry on.”
“Yeah, many legends deal with ince
st or girls marrying animals. When animals take on human shape or men can turn into coyotes, modern rules don’t apply.”
“True, Beauty and the Beast, the Princess and the Frog, even Little Red Riding Hood are borderline.”
“I’ll tell you a quick legend of Wi’ite.” Honi’s voice dropped as he remembered when he’d first heard this tale. John had told the story to all the kids around the campfire. They had huddled together, staring into the orange heat of the flames. The crackling and whooshing of the leaping fire had been a formidable barrier against the night noises and black shadows of giant firs encroaching on their little campsite.
Honi had felt safe in the arms of his father, whose bulk was both protective and warm against his own scrawny five-year-old body. When John had begun speaking in a hoarse deep murmur, every child’s eyes were wide and glued to the shaman’s silhouette next to the fire.
“A village owned two horses. Little Fox, Wi’ite’s enemy, was the chief’s son-in-law. Wi’ite found out that Little Fox wanted to play a trick on Wi’ite and decided to punish him for it. He went out into the wilderness.
“There he found one of the horses and he put it to sleep. After it was fast asleep, he found Old Mouse and he said to her, ‘Here is a dead animal. Go to Little Fox and tell him, “My dear grandson, here is a dead animal. I couldn't move it. Just near the village, that's how far out it is. Pull it to one side, and we alone shall eat it,” you may say to him.’
“Mouse was very willing, so she ran back and spoke to Little Fox. But Wi’ite ran back and waited for them in the village.”
Honi paused. Adi was listening intently with a little smile on her face. Honi felt a flutter in his stomach. He really liked the way she focused on his face so intently. While he talked, he had forgotten where they were. The background noise had all but disappeared, and it felt like there were only the two of them. Adi blinked, and he hurriedly continued before the spell broke.
“Mouse tied together the tails of Little Fox and the horse. She tied them very tightly. Little Fox said, ‘I am strong. I will pull it.’ When he tried to pull it, he woke up the horse. When it saw an animal fastened to its tail, it became frightened. It ran away and dragged Little Fox like a branch to the village.
“Right away, Trickster shouted very loudly, ‘Look at Little Fox, the son-in-law, he is doing something crazy. Look at him!’ All of them ran out. There Little Fox was, bouncing up and down, tied to the horse's tail. Finally he horse went back to its owner, and they untied Little Fox. His mouth just quivered as he sat there. He was very ashamed. He didn't even go back to his own lodge. From there he went away somewhere and that was the last of him. He had a wife and many children, but he left them all there.”
Honi paused for effect and lowered his voice. “Since then he has never again been among the people. Anywhere they saw him, he would feel ashamed. If one is seen someplace, his mouth would twitch as he sits. For he is ashamed of this same thing, even to this day. That’s the story of why foxes are so shy, to this very day,” he finished solemnly.
There was a moment of silence. He nervously looked at Adi. Was she bored? He had always liked the story, but it was very simple, and maybe Adi didn’t appreciate the old-fashioned feel of the tale. But then Adi's eyes lit up.
"Wow, that's a great story! You know, this really reminds me of the tales my grandmother in Germany read to me. Everybody only knows the Disneyfied versions, like Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella, but there are so many more stories. And many of them feature animals with human characteristics, like Oda and the Snake, or the speaking horse head Falada!"
Honi sat up in surprise. It hadn't occurred to him that European tradition might have anything in common with his own Mekui’te legends. But of course, at some stage, Europeans had lived off the land not unlike the plains tribes. And if you went far enough back, research into human history showed that all of humanity derived from only three thousand individuals. So why wouldn't the spirit world and its animals be a common phenomenon all over the world? Just because modern society didn't believe in anything that couldn't be measured and photographed?
"Would you tell me someday? I would love to hear those stories and compare them to my own tradition,” he asked.
Adi returned his smile. “Of course.” Then she frowned. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with my… my gift, as you call it.”
Honi took another sip of his milky drink, then glared at his glass as he set it back down. Warm frappe, not his favorite thing. He considered his answer for another few seconds.
“My point in telling you all of this is that these stories have been around as long as people have. And there’s a reason for it. My ancestors, and yours as well, used to see spirit animals everywhere. For some reason the ability has declined and now there are very few who can see them.”
“But what’s the point?” Adi asked, not unreasonably.
“I’m not sure. Our shaman told us that losing the connection to the spirit world is a bad thing. They feed from the living, and we feed from them. There should be an exchange between the spirit world and our world, and for generations, that exchange has become less and less. We just don’t know what the effect will be in the long run.”
Adi looked very skeptical. “And you really believe that?”
“I do. Have you not noticed that many of the animals are looking sick and act aggressively?”
“I wouldn’t know what’s normal.” Adi swallowed. “I saw them when I was a child. Then I got better, and they disappeared. Now they’ve come back. I’m still not sure if you’re sharing my delusions or if you’re serious.”
Honi bent forward and took her hand. She was so fragile, and her fingers felt like he could crush them if he tried. The wave of protectiveness he felt towards her surprised him with its intensity. He swallowed and concentrated on her eyes.
“I’m not delusional. And neither are you. I don’t know what happened to you as a child, but believe me, you weren’t crazy then and you aren’t crazy now. This is real. And if you want to, I’ll help you control the visions.”
Adi’s breathing had turned shallow and fast, and while Honi still watched her, he saw her emotions flit over her face until it settled on a look of determination. She firmly pulled her hand out of his. Honi immediately missed the warmth and softness of her palm.
Adi got up quickly after glancing at her phone screen. “Thanks for the tea. I had a great time, but I’ve really gotta run. I’m late for class,” she quickly said. Her voice was firm and she had obviously come to a decision.
She grabbed her bag, and before Honi could say anything else, he looked at her back, halfway to the exit already. The mirror above the sofa where Adi had sat only a minute ago reflected his confusion back at him. That could have gone better. He was sure he had gotten through to her, but at the last moment, she had withdrawn, just like last time. Something was preventing her from trusting him fully.
He pushed down hard at the little flutter of worry rising inside of him. She would be back, he was sure of it, and maybe she’d be more willing to listen to him then. He only hoped it wouldn’t be too late to help her. A whine and a quick wet swipe of Ho’neo’s tongue let him know that his wolf shared his concern.
6
Honi had no classes after lunch. It left him plenty of time to mull over what had happened. He took a little stroll to his favorite place on campus, a small pond providing a home to a family of ducks. As he sat by the edge of the water, the occasional rumble of delivery trucks and the laughter and shouting of kids seemed very far away.
A mother duck with six yellow ducklings in tow gave him the stink-eye. When he didn’t move, she quacked indignantly and led her family around him towards the water. He watched in amusement as the little balls of fluff struggled to keep up with their brown-feathered leader.
Eventually they floated off, the mother gliding elegantly ahead, the babies floundering after her. The water of the pond was soon perfectly calm again, and Honi’s mind settle
d as he stared at the dark surface. He moved into a meditative pose and breathed slowly in and out.
Ring! Ring! Honi jumped. For the love of… he’d picked a shrill, old-fashioned 1940’s ringtone, but he’d forgotten to set his phone to silent on campus. He pulled his phone impatiently from his back pocket, grumbling under his breath. After snapping an impatient hello, he quickly added a somewhat contrite, “Oh, hey, John, what’s up?”
“Hi, Honi, am I catching you at a bad time?” Honi could hear the amusement in his mentor’s voice.
“No, not really,” he sighed. Honi knew that John wasn’t calling to exchange pleasantries, so he waited for the older man to continue.
“So I talked to Dan Whitefir from the Southern Mekui’te reservation. His grandfather died back in the sixties, but Dan remembers some of the stories he told him when he was young.”
John’s voice was far more serious now and Honi listened intently.
“Dan told me what he knew about spirit animals. He confirmed what I already suspected. There’s a delicate balance between this world and the spirit world. If that balance is destroyed, both worlds are in danger.” John stopped for a moment, and Honi could hear him drink something.
“Sorry, I had a long talk with Dan, my throat is dry,” John explained.
“Sure, no problem. So what’s this got to do with Adi?”
John hesitated again. When he continued, he did it slowly, like he was talking to a frightened animal. “Honi, are you… do you like this girl?”
Now it was Honi’s turn to hesitate. He knew he was attracted to Adi. There was something about her, underneath her stubbornness and aggression. Something that drew him, that made him smile when he thought of her. Even now, talking to his mentor, he could feel his mouth curl up. The answer was easy.
“Yes. I like her. She’s special, and I’d really like to get to know her better,” he said confidently.
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