by Beth Manz
And Jim knew his unease was not just because of their current situation. It ran much deeper....
“Blair, are you ready to tell me what really happened on that mountainside?” he blurted out before he could change his mind.
Blair froze mid-step, his back stiffening. He recovered smoothly, glancing coolly, briefly back at Jim before starting forward again. “What do you mean?” he asked, a forced casualness underlying the words.
“Come on, Chief," Jim persisted. "I know something happened out there, something I can only guess has to do with the wolf.”
Blair stopped again, but didn't look back at Jim this time. He simply stood silently before him, his gaze locked forward.
The sentinel reached out and placed a hand on his guide’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I think the time for secrets between us has passed, don’t you?”
Keeping his back to Jim, Blair dropped his chin to his chest. His hand came up to rub at his eyes. “I wasn’t alone on that mountainside,” he admitted finally. “The wolf.…” But his words trailed off as he shook his head.
“What, Chief? What about the wolf?”
Slowly, Blair turned and looked up at Jim. His eyes were dark with uncertainty. “Jim, I’m not sure, but I think the wolf the Kellers heard was there with me during most of my time on that mountain, keeping me warm. I think...I think he’s the reason I’m still alive.”
"That would explain a lot, Chief."
“Yeah.” Blair nodded, looking beyond Jim for a long moment. "But there’s a big part of me that wants to believe that that wolf was just an ordinary wolf.” He returned his gaze to Jim, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “But I know it wasn’t. The wolf that was with me on the mountain is the same one we both saw at the fountain. The same one that's here with us now. I can feel it, Jim, deep inside.”
Jim’s brow creased as he looked down at Blair, because beneath the uncertainly, he sensed a sadness in his guide. “Why does that scare you so much?” He lifted one hand away from Blair's shoulder and reached up to gently cup the side of his partner’s face. He stared down into Sandburg's confused eyes. “I’m glad you weren’t alone on that mountainside, Chief. I’m glad that if I couldn’t be there for you, that your spirit guide was.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “But Jim...sometimes...sometimes I think I just dreamed the whole thing or that this memory I have is just wishful thinking."
"Wishful thinking?” Jim dropped his hand away from Blair’s face. “I don't understand."
"Sometimes I think I'm just trying to give myself some importance in the sentinel universe that I don’t really have.”
The words were spoken so softly that Jim wouldn't have been able to hear them had he only had normal hearing. But he did hear them, and the words stunned him. He blinked several times, unable to believe that Blair was doubting his role in the sentinel legacy. After all we've been through… “You can’t believe that,” Jim breathed out at last. "That you have to fabricate your importance to me? To what I am?"
Blair shrugged one shoulder, his gaze cast downward.
“Blair, why do you think we’re here?” Jim pressed. “Not for me. We’re here for you.”
Blair nodded as he lifted his head, bit at his lower lip as it trembled slightly. “Yeah. Maybe so." He straightened his shoulders and looked up at Jim, a glint of anger in his eyes. "But if I’m so important, why was I left on that mountainside for so many days? And if the wolf was really my spirit guide, then why didn’t it find you?”
Jim frowned. “I don’t understand--”
“At the fountain,” Blair cut in, his voice overriding Jim’s, “when Alex came after me, the wolf warned you that I needed your help and you were there for me. But this time.…” His voice trailed off as a single tear escaped his eye and trailed down his cheek. “You never came, Jim.”
“Blair,” Jim forced out past the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d known. I wish I’d been there for you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t blame you, really I don’t. I just...I want to understand. I need to know why--if the wolf could help me--why didn't he?”
“But he did help you, Blair. You said it yourself--he kept you alive."
"Maybe so. But it still doesn't make any sense to me. If it warned you once when I was dying, then it should have warned you again." Blair shook his head, wiping at the moisture on his cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. That sounded...selfish. That's not how I meant it." He looked up at Jim, his eyes wide and imploring. "It's not the fact that I might have died that bothers me as much as the fact that the wolf didn't appear to you. It's like I've lost a connection with you that I never even realized I had." His eyes misted over but he stubbornly blinked the moisture away. "You should have known, Jim. Something kept the wolf from coming to you and I don't know what that something is. And it's making me doubt everything. Everything.”
Jim gaped at Blair, unable to believe what he was hearing. He searched for words that would reassure his friend, but nothing came. Instead, he reached out and drew Blair close to him. Wrapping both arms around his now-trembling guide, he whispered, “I don't know what to tell you. All I can hope is that by the time we're finished in this place, you'll have the answers you're looking for." He tightened his arms around Blair. "But Chief,” he continued softly, "I need you to know one thing--if the wolf had come to me, I would have come looking for you. I wouldn’t have stopped looking until I'd found you. You know that, don't you?”
Blair nodded his head against Jim's shoulder. “I never doubted that, Jim.”
Darkness covered the landscape and provided a backdrop for a million glorious pinpricks of light. Jim and Blair lay side by side on the soft bed of pine boughs they had fashioned earlier and looked up at the brilliant stars spread out across the night sky.
"This is incredible. You never see stars like this in the city, man," Blair observed softly.
Jim knew Blair wasn't really expecting or needing an answering comment, so he remained silent and allowed the view of the sky and the soft night sounds of the forest to further relax him. His mind turned over the events of the first "day" of their journey. Time had passed for the two men as it would have during any other day, but Jim had no way of knowing how much time had really passed for them in "reality"--in that corporeal world in which they lived as detective and anthropologist. They'd made steady progress in the direction Blair had chosen and while they had talked from time to time following their discussion of the wolf, most of the remainder of the day had been spent in companionable silence.
"Jim?" Blair's voice, soft as it was, was clear in the night air.
"What is it, Chief?"
"Did I ever tell you that there have been times when I've been sort of…jealous…that you were the only one who had visions? That I've sometimes felt…. I don't know…left out, I guess."
"No, you never told me that." Ellison turned on his side and curled up facing Blair. His partner lay stretched out on his back, his face turned toward the night sky. "So, how about now, Chief?" he teased warmly. "You still feeling jealous?"
Blair's answering chuckle was a welcome balm to Jim's spirit. It seemed like it had been forever since he'd heard Blair laugh. "Um, no, Jim, I'm not."
Jim laughed. "Well, at least Incacha sent us someplace where it's dry and warm."
"That's true," Blair agreed. He turned his head and smiled over at Jim. "But you'd think he could have at least had the foresight to provide us with a couple of decent pillows."
Jim smiled at Blair's caustic remark, but his smile quickly faded as the sound of the wolf reached them. The cry was plaintive, melancholy, and it caused the hairs on Jim's arms and the back of his neck to stand on end. Beside him, Blair shuddered.
"I hate that sound," the young man whispered out.
"I know," Jim soothed as he reached over and touched gently at Blair's arm for a brief moment.
"Jim, what if this isn't really some sort of quest?" Blair asked suddenly, causing Jim
to shift his attention away from the condition of the dying wolf and focus on the situation into which he and Blair had been placed. "I mean, what if that plane crashed and we're just…dead? Do you think that's possible?”
Jim gave some thought to Blair's valid question, then shook his head against his arm. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think we're dead. This place is too similar to my previous visions for me to believe that.”
“How long do you think we’ll be here, then?”
“I think we'll be here until you find your way or make your decision, like Incacha said.”
"Great," Blair muttered. "Talk about being in your basic state of 'limbo.'"
"Chief," Jim said softly, studying his partner in the darkness, "why is this so difficult for you? Of the two of us, you've always been the one who's been totally open to the spiritual side of things, especially this sentinel legacy. Why are you finding it so difficult to deal with this journey?"
Blair exhaled a deep sigh then turned over onto his side, facing Jim. "I'm afraid because I think I know what Incacha wants from me."
"You mean you know what decision he wants you to make?"
Blair nodded his head. "Remember how you said you had a vision like this when you had to decide to accept your sentinel abilities? Well, I think I'm being tested to see if I'll accept my role as shaman."
"But Incacha already passed on that role--"
"He may have passed it on to me, but that doesn't mean I've accepted it. To be very honest with you, the idea of my being a shaman--your shaman--well, it scares the hell out of me.”
"But why?" Jim argued, needing to understand. "Why is it so hard for you to accept this facet of yourself? Of that role in our relationship? I thought you were happy with me…with what we have together.”
Blair reached over and lay his hand against Jim's arm. “I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. But being your guide and being your shaman…those are two very different things, man.”
“So, what are you saying?" Jim asked, injecting a bit of light-hearted banter into his tone. "Are you afraid that if you accept your role as shaman you’re going to have to go live on a mountain top and spout words of wisdom to us common folk?”
“Actually, that’s part of the problem, Jim,” Blair answered softly, ignoring Jim's gentle teasing. “I don't have any idea of what it means to be a shaman. What will I have to do? Will it change me? And if it does, will I like those changes?” He sighed deeply. "I guess the question I have is, 'What does becoming a shaman entail exactly'?"
"Maybe there's only one way to find out."
Blair huffed out a small snort of humorless laughter. "Only one problem with that--what if I take that step and find I'm not qualified or that I'm not happy with the results? Then what?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't know anything about being a sentinel, about what accepting the spiritual side of it meant. But you encouraged me to embrace who I was, every part of it. And I have to say it's worked out great."
Blair chuckled at that. "Yeah? Well, it was easier for me to say 'go for it, man,' when it was you."
Jim smiled briefly, but as his guide’s words settled over him, he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t more to it than that. Blair was innately and single-mindedly curious about everything.… Everything except this.
“Your doubts have become his.”
As Incacha’s words replayed through his mind, Jim thought back on the times they’d come face to face with the spiritual aspect of their relationship. Each time, Jim had denied it.
How can I change that now?
Before he could even come close to finding an answer, Blair shifted onto his back again. The younger man stared up at the stars for several long moments, then turned and looked over at Jim.
"Are you able to hear my heartbeat yet?" he asked softly.
Jim knew the answer even before he extended his hearing to listen for the familiar sound, but he focused in on his partner just the same. Deep disappointment--a renewed sense of loss--settled over him. "No," he whispered reluctantly, and his voice held all the sadness he was feeling. "I don't understand this at all. Everything is on-line, Chief, including my hearing. So, why can't I hear your heartbeat?" The sentinel scrubbed a hand across his face. "I can’t help but feel like your heartbeat has been taken from me.”
“Well, maybe we can fix that.”
"What? How?"
Blair reached over to him. "Give me your hand."
Jim extended his hand and Blair curled his fingers around it. Gently, he guided Jim's hand over and placed his open palm against his chest. "There. Can you feel it?"
A steady sensation of thrumming beat beneath the sentinel's fingertips and for the first time since they had entered this strange world of spirit guides and vision quests, Jim felt truly at peace. "Yes," he answered softly. "I can feel it."
"Good," Blair whispered. He covered Jim's hand with his own. “See? Nothing’s been taken from you.”
Jim smiled as Blair yawned. "Why don't you try and get some sleep, Chief," he suggested.
“I'll try." Blair was silent for a few seconds, then he grinned over at Jim. "Hey, you think I’ll wake up in my bed at the loft?”
Ellison laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it, buddy.”
Part Three
Blair blinked his eyes open but remained still. The morning sun felt warm against his skin and he was in no hurry to move. He had slept well--deeply, dreamlessly--something he hadn’t done in some time.
Groaning slightly, he sat up, his body stiff from the long hours spent on the ground. Beside him, Jim didn’t stir. Normally the sentinel would awaken with his guide, instantly alerted by the noise. But as Blair watched Jim, the older man's head tucked against his arm, his body curled in on itself, he continued to sleep, totally oblivious to Blair's movements.
He’s just tired, Blair told himself as he got slowly to his feet, trying and failing to suppress a large yawn. Stretching his arms over his head, he realized that more than anything he was hungry. He and Jim hadn’t eaten yesterday at all, hadn’t even thought about food. But now, this morning, a good breakfast was all that occupied his thoughts.
He glanced down at Jim again. His partner lay in the same position, his breathing soft and even. Should he wake him so the two of them could find food together or should he just try and find something himself? Before he could decide, a quick movement caught his eye. He turned to his left and saw the panther sitting just within the tree line, the animal watching him impassively with large, golden eyes.
Blair cocked his head to one side and studied the beast. “I’m hungry,” he said finally, not really expecting a reaction. But as soon as he had spoken the words, the sleek animal stood and began moving back through the trees. After only a few steps, it turned and looked back at Blair, as if it were waiting.
Sandburg got the message--he was to follow.
After taking one last look at Jim’s sleeping form, he strode to the trees and followed the panther. Minutes later he found himself at the edge of a fast-moving stream...and he knew exactly what he needed to do. Pulling his Swiss army knife from the pocket of his jeans, he hunted around until he found a slender but sturdy tree limb and whittled one end down to a point. Then, taking off his shoes, he waded into the cold, clear water. As he began to fish, he realized the panther was no longer in sight.
“Thanks,” he muttered to the elusive animal before turning his attention to the task at hand. Holding the homemade fishing spear at a downward angle, he stood still, waited for the fish to swim by, and then stabbed at them.
“I could carry that fish-sticking thing you brought.”
Blair tensed as the conversation he’d had with Jim before leaving with the three students on that fateful trip came back to him.
“That’s not a ‘fish-sticking thing’, Jim. It’s a Cree Indian fishing spear. There’s supposed to be a great stream near the reservation and I thought maybe I could show the guys how to catch trout in one of the
more traditional methods.”
“I’m assuming that won’t be your only source of food the entire weekend. Or should I say lack of food.”
“I’ve used it before, Jim. I know what I’m doing.”
“Sure you do.”
Blair made another stab at a fish but missed it completely, only managing to get the sharp limb stuck in the muddy bottom of the stream. Pulling it out, he shook his head and told himself to just concentrate on what he was doing…not to think about that day, about those boys.
But it was already too late for that….
"A real shaman!”
The memory of Pete’s awe-filled voice suddenly rang through his mind.
“I’ve read about them, about the things they’re supposed to be able to do… Do you think they really have special powers or is that just a big joke?"
And as the conversation with the three boys replayed itself in Blair’s mind, his hand began to shake.
“Pete just wants to see if the guy can give him a love potion so he can get a few dates.”
