by K. G. Duncan
Somewhere close to dusk, Stump returned. He had brought food. One-day-old pastries from a doughnut shop and hot dogs from a street vendor. Abby smiled to herself and thought about how appropriate that was. She was also ravenous and didn’t care to stand on any sort of ceremony or sigh over wistful reflections. She chomped down two hot dogs in the blink of an eye, much to Stump’s delight.
“Too bad Olivia ain’t around right now.” Stump had joked. “We could wring the mustard out of her hair.” And so their meal together went. She offered him money, but he refused.
As dusk turned to night, they talked quietly, and Abby learned more and more about living on the streets, and how to survive. Stump explained how to choose your mark when panhandling, how to suss out dangerous people and, more importantly, why it was always the wiser course of action to give them a wide berth. She also learned a little more about Stump’s youth, when he was a fairly renowned street performer. He talked a lot about singing and dancing. It was clearly a joy for him to reminisce about those days of entertaining.
But when it came to his family, he was fairly tight-lipped. He wasn’t comfortable going down that particular road. Abby had a flash of the woman in the dusky room, her eyes glaring as the stick rose above the cowering little boy. She had a pretty good idea of why he was reluctant to talk about it. And after Stump’s little speech about respecting folk’s privacy, well, she thought it best to leave it alone and not bring the subject up. Maybe Stump would eventually talk to her about it, but he would do it on his terms.
They sat in silence for a long time, Abby glancing at Stump every now and then. He was studying her in silence and grinning. After a while, she had to ask why he kept staring at her.
“What?” She suddenly asked and giggled herself. “You keep staring at me like I’ve got something stuck on my face. Is it mustard?” Abby wiped her cheeks.
Stump, still smiling, shook his head and continued to stare at her. He finally hemmed and hawed before he spoke at last. “Mmm-mmm. My oh my.” He leaned forward and reached out a hand like he wanted to touch her, but he was too shy and pulled it back. “I swear, I ain’t seen a shining like yours for a long while. A long while.”
Abby smiled and fiddled with the sleeves of her blouse. “What you mean by that? A shining?”
“It’s your light… your aura,” Stump said almost in a whisper. “You light up the dark like a lighthouse guiding in ships to keep ‘em off the shoals. I seen it in you that very first night you came here. I could swear you was sent to me by the angels, and you were sent to me for a reason.”
“You can see my light?”
“Burning up the night like a roman candle, yes indeed.”
“Is it like you can see my… my soul-fire? Is it that kind of light?”
Stump’s grin widened and he laughed. “Why sure. I’ve heard it called a soul-fire before. My Granny Jane called it that. Yes, ma’am. You got the brightest soul-fire I ever seen. Must be that dragon you got inside of you.”
“But how can you see it? Why can’t all these other folks in my life? How come you can see it?” Abby was earnest now, and her words were tumbling out now fast and all helter-skelter. “And just what is it exactly that you can see? You said there were lots of folks like you. How many? Where are they? Can you introduce them to me?”
“Hold your horses, now.” Stump laughed and held up his hand. “One question at a time.” He paused and smiled, watching Abby bite her tongue. “You chompin’ at the bit. We got all night to lay it out for you.”
“It’s just that I feel like I’m drowning, Stump. I’m in deep waters, and they are pulling me down. I can’t explain it.”
“Well, now,” Stump stroked his chin and continued. “Deep waters have currents. Sometimes they are hidden, but an experienced eye knows how to find them and avoid them if they are dangerous. But sometimes you need to ride those currents, let them take you where you are supposed to be taken. That can be scary, for sure, unless you know that you can always find control and come back to yourself.”
“Yes, I want to have control!” Abby interrupted. “I want to be able to control the change, to control when and what I see… I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed if I could see things coming before they got to me, or if I knew where it was going to take me before I got there!”
“All right. Let’s see if we can establish who or what this is inside of you. There is a way to find a grounding—a foundation that is strong and secure—like a place where you can always get back to yourself. A place that is only for and about you.” Stump paused and rubbed his hands together. “So, are you ready?”
Abby nodded and rubbed her hands together, too.
Stump laughed, then began again. “Why don’t you start by telling me what happens when you touch other people.”
Abby wrung her hands and looked back at Stump, miserable. “You mean like when I did what I did with you the other night? When we first met?”
“That’s right. Let’s start there.” Stump sat up straighter and gently smiled, nodding his head, waiting for Abby to continue.
Abby relaxed, and then it all came flooding out. “Well first things first—I didn’t do anything. I mean it wasn’t me that started it or bid it come. It just happens whether I want it to or not. And that’s when…that’s when I feel the fold open up to me. I see things. I get glimpses of a person’s life. Their memories. Their joys and sorrows. The things that happened to them in their past that made them what they are today. Sometimes they are terrible things. But sometimes it is beautiful. The things that occur that can shape and mold them…The choices they made. But, not always the choices they made in this life. Sometimes… sometimes I see what could have been—like if they had made a different choice or done something differently. And then I see them in their present, you know? How everything connects and comes together in the present moment, and it’s like…like an explosion of possibilities, and only one thread is the real one, you know? The one convergence of probabilities that is true in this life, in this time we have together right now.”
Abby paused to gather her breath, and Stump quietly asked, “Convergence? You learn them big words in school?”
“No, wait, wait!” Abby waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t get me off track! Now, that’s part of it too. It’s like the words and ideas come to me through a direct download. A download from God. And that’s how I know things that I know, why I see the things that I see. It’s why most of the other kids think I’m a freak. I don’t talk or think like them. But the download just comes to me and takes over! I can’t help but see things about people’s lives—things a decent person maybe ought not to see.” And here Abby paused to glance at Stump guiltily. “But then there’s people like Olivia. She doesn’t judge or condemn me for the way I am. She celebrates it. And oh, Stump! I get so discombobulated. So easily distracted. I had something else I was trying to say!”
Abby paused to gather her breath and calm herself. Stump patiently waited until she composed herself and got back on track.
“It’s not just the past and present,” Abby began in almost a whisper. “But all of the future too! Especially for the folks I truly care about and know better—the ones I love, like Momma Bea or Olivia. I see them through the folds of time and follow each of the actions and consequences that each person can play out in an infinite number of ways, and it’s mind boggling, because it all happens so fast—in a blur, and all at once—but I can track it and see it through to the various ends. I don’t know how or why, but I can. And there are infinite possibilities, minor and extreme variations… some more powerful and recurring. And it’s the ones that recur that are most interesting because I can start to see the patterns. In the patterns there are constants. More permanent things about a person—their character and their habits. Their core values. Things that aren’t always taught but are just a part of their nature. You know? The way their energy flows, that’s where
their mind and body goes, more often than not. And it is so strong in some people—like Olivia. She is so solid and true! And then there are some that just have power, like what’s in you.”
Abby stopped, and they sat in silence for a while. At length, Stump spoke, his voice low but steady.
“First,” he began, “this is not something that comes to you unbidden. It isn’t something that is separate… It is very much a part of you—as much as your arm is part of your body or your fingers a part of your hand. So, that means that you can control it.”
“Okay, but how? I mean, I don’t know what or how I’m gonna do something until I’m already doing it!”
Stump held up his hand, before continuing. “In time. In time. You will learn how to control it, shape it, and become the master of it. Right now, without an extreme trigger from outside forces or circumstances—like what happened to you at lunch when them bullies and hooligans got a hold of ya—without something like that, your powers won’t come forth.”
Stump paused to let his words sink in. “Second,” he began again, “in terms of what I can see—what folks like me can see—and there are quite a few of us—now that’s what we call the second sight. You’ve got it in spades, from the look of ya! The second sight reveals the way a person’s soul-fire can signify and show itself. Now, it ain’t no “power” like what you called it, but it’s a gift, or maybe more like natural skill that’s handed down genetically. My momma had it, and her momma before her, and so on. I reckon your momma has it, too. Now, that skill means that you are open and exposed to… what did you call it? The Fold? I kind of like that… So, folks like us, we are open to the Fold and all of them signals and pictures you keep talking about—it’s the world of spirit and imagination. Of other worlds. Other realities. Of what could be. Of what wants to be. Oh, yes, and there are some powerful things out there that want to be, yes indeed.”
Stump stopped and suddenly rummaged through an old military style shoulder bag that was in a pile of sundries next to him. “But that’s not all,” he spoke as he continued to rifle through the contents of the bag. “No, ma’am. That’s not everything, at all. Them other worlds. They are just as real as this one. Ah!” He exclaimed as he pulled from the bag what he was searching for.
The object appeared to be a claw or a tooth from some large animal, but it was blackened as if by weather and age. It hung from a leather cord like some sort of necklace.
“Now this,” Stump continued, “belonged to my Granny Jane. It’s a bear’s claw, but it ain’t like no bear claw from around here in these parts. That’s because it comes from one of those other worlds.”
He held it out to Abby. “Go ahead, take it. Feel it.” Abby hesitated then took the claw into her hand. She caressed it between her finger and her thumb. It was cool and smooth like a stone. There was something vaguely familiar about it.
“There is power in an object,” Stump intoned reverently. “Especially one that has travelled. Crossed over.”
“Crossed over?” Abby asked, still studying the item, a tingly tickle of awe beginning to creep down her neck. An image of a jungle and a spider’s web appeared in her mind.
“That’s right. Travelled here from another world.” Stump held up his hand before Abby could interrupt. “Now, I’m going to put this on you, around your neck.” He gently took it from her hands and place it around her neck. It hung down lightly, cool against the skin of her sternum. “And it is from this point on going to be yours…”
Abby tensed and tried to take it off from her neck. “Stump, no… I couldn’t. It’s too valuable… it, it belongs to you, and it’s from your family.”
Stump grabbed her wrists to keep her from removing the precious necklace. “Now, listen here, I don’t have no children of my own. And I ain’t likely to start making them any time soon! Ha! I’ve been waiting for the right time—the right person to come along so I could pass it on. That would be you. I’ve kept it long enough.” He placed a finger over Abby’s lips and with his other hand he gently enclosed her fist around the claw. “Ain’t no use protesting. It’s already done.”
They looked at each other for several moments until Stump smiled and spoke again. “Now, I’m going to tell you the story behind this object, and that way we will have made it your own. You will have the responsibility to care for it, and to carry it with you. Maybe add a few things of your own to its story, all in good time.”
He sat back and smiled broadly, that same infectious grin that made Abby chortle herself. “So, first to the science of things!” Stump launched into his speech with renewed vigor. “A while back before my vagabond days, I had that bear claw carbon-dated by a friend of mine used to work over at the university. Anthropology department. He specialized in archeological digs. That claw tested no older than 100 years. A 100-year old claw, from an animal that has not existed on this planet for over 10,000 years!” Abby’s eyes widened as Stump continued.
“Now, you may ask yourself: How can that be? Did this bear claw travel through time from our own historical past? Or did it come from another world, a world much like ours, but different? Maybe a world where such a bear still lives and has not become extinct. Either way,” Stump paused for dramatic effect, “it’s a marvelous thing.”
Abby picked up the claw and studied it again. It was now warm in her fingers from the heat of her skin. Its polished surface seemed to almost glow.
“Second thing!” Stump resumed. “That bear claw was brought to me by my Granny Jane.”
“Round face, white dress. She has your smile,” Abby interjected.
“Yes, that would be the one. Now, you may ask, how did she come by such a thing?” And here Stump paused, looking off into space like he was seeing some other landscape beyond the Superdome’s parking lot. His eyes got all watery, and several moments passed.
“Well,” Abby grew impatient at stump’s deliberate and dramatic reverie. “Go on! Answer the question for crying out loud!”
Stump finally snapped out of it and looked at Abby with a chuckle. “You gonna need to learn some patience, girl, mm-mmm! If you ever gonna control that dragon of yours, you will need to start with patience.” He smiled, and Abby, still exasperated, shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“You know, my Granny Jane,” Stump began like he was changing the subject. “She is not a part of this world, anymore.”
“Is she dead now?” Abby asked.
Stump slowly nodded his head. “Some would say that. On the day she died,” and here Stump made little quotation signs with his fingers around the word died, “she wandered off into the bayou. She gave me this necklace just before she left, and she had said that she was going to go back to her forest of the bear—where the claw had come from. She had a lover waiting there for her.”
“You mean like heaven? The afterlife?” But as soon as she said it, Abby knew that was not the right question. With a sudden and alarming clarity, Abby knew that this bear claw had belonged to the Elder named Bo M’ba Nesh.
“Well, now, that’s the thing,” Stump was continuing. “That’s what most people want to say she meant.” Stump turned to look directly at Abby. “But if that’s what she meant, then I think that’s what she would have said. But she didn’t use those words. She said what she said. And then she went away—she walked off into the bayou, and she just didn’t come back. She disappeared.”
“You mean she walked out there and she died.” Abby didn’t ask, it was a statement.
Stump shook his head and hemmed and hawed a little bit before replying. “Well, no, I mean she disappeared. They never found her. Her body anyway. Most folks think she went out there to die. That the swamp claimed her.”
“But that’s not what you think, is it?” Abby asked, a trickle of apprehension started creeping down her spine again. She could see the face of Stump’s Granny Jane, standing there in her white dress. She was same woman as the elder who s
at at her weaving loom, only the Granny Jane version did not have the spider web scars across her face.
Stump stared back at her, slowly smiling. “What I think… what I think is what I needed to tell you. We’ve come full circle, you see. This ain’t just one big rambling perambulation of frivolousness. It’s all related. To you and what you can do. To that foundation that will always bring you back to yourself.”
Abby shook her head, confused, “I don’t follow…”
“Yes, you do follow, or you will!” Stump was heated now with an odd zeal that had replaced his previous calm. “What I am trying to say is that Granny Jane didn’t die. She crossed over. She travelled. She left this place for that place,” and he pointed to the necklace around her neck. “Where this comes from. And all them pictures and them signs you see about other people and their lives? Well, those aren’t just pictures or memories or possibilities for things that may or may not ever come to be. Those are real places, Abby. Other worlds—not just of the mind but actual physical places. All of them contained in the Fold, as you so aptly put it. And,” Stump raised his finger to punctuate his point. “And, if you meditate and practice your gift of… activation—yes, that’s what we will call it: Activation. And if you master this gift of activation, then you too can cross over—you can travel to those other worlds in this physical body. Like my Granny Jane.”
Abby was stunned, her mind refusing to accommodate such an idea. “But… that… that’s impossible…” Her voice faded away. She had already been travelling to those places, but Abby had thought that it had been only in her dreams. Dreams she could never quite remember.
What Stump was suggesting seemed… outrageous. Startling and outrageous. “That’s impossible,” Abby repeated again, barely a whisper.
Stump smiled and said smugly, “This from the girl who turns into a dragon.” They looked at each other for a while—the one a superior grin pasted across his face, the other with her mind whirling. At length, Stump asked quietly,
