I scanned the headlines, but was too distracted to focus on the news. I took a small pad and a pen out of my purse.
What had happened to me last night? I was overwhelmed and started doodling on the pad when the waitress appeared with my order. She made sure everything was to my liking and set down a carafe of hot coffee.
“I’ll leave you to your work. If you need anything, just let me know,” she said.
I nodded and she was gone.
Focus, and think about what you need to do here, Pam. Later I will need to call my office. I’ll need a few days off to get things in order. My next call would be to the power company and then I had to make arrangements to get someone to fix the window. I also wanted to meet with a representative from a security company, otherwise I couldn’t, wouldn’t, go home.
In my mind’s eye I saw the shadow of the man at my patio door and a chill ran down my spine. My hands began to tremble as I remembered his gloved hand, dripping with rainwater, reaching through the smashed window as he grabbed for the doorknob. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to calm down and push those frightening thoughts from my mind. I had to focus. Maybe the police would get some leads.
I thought of Mrs. Warren. I hoped she was okay, and I made a mental note to check on her later.
Returning to the privacy of my hotel room, I called my boss, Donna Grant, at the advertising agency. I told her about the attempted burglary, but I couldn’t tell her that I was still in danger. Who would believe me when I almost didn’t quite believe it myself? Donna said to take as much time as I needed.
My next call was to the power company. They would send a repair crew out to the house and asked me to meet them there. Okay, that was definitely doable. But every time I thought about being at the house, the image of the dark man at the patio door filled my thoughts and my stomach lurched. I would be able to stick around while the repairs were made as long as I wasn’t alone. I made arrangements for the window repair that morning and the representative from the alarm company would be at the house at two. Since I didn’t know how long I would be staying at the hotel, I wanted to grab more clothes and a few toiletry items from the house, and I really wanted to get my laptop.
It was only 8:30 a.m. and I had a few hours to kill. I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening to me that I found myself pacing back and forth in the cramped hotel room and jumping at every little noise. I had to catch my breath and clear my head. I had to get away from it all.
It was only then that I remembered a place I used to go to with my parents that had always brought me peace and cleared my head. I had always found the right answers and chosen the right path when I went there to think. It had been quite a while since I even thought of it, but I knew it was exactly where I needed to be. I hopped in my car and drove up Route 7 toward Schaticotay Falls.
I was relieved when I arrived to find that not much had changed. The waterfalls cascaded down the mountain and caught in pools, which emptied into more falls and continued cascading down until finally draining into a clear lake. About halfway up the mountain, beside a large waterfall, there was a ledge of rock that jutted out over one of the big and deeper pools. Towering evergreens and bushes protected the rocks from view. I imagined no one else ever ventured up there because the trail wasn’t marked. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be there in my quiet place. It seemed to call to me, compelling me to come closer.
As I started up the overgrown path, the catcher, still in my jacket pocket, began to hum as gently as if it were whispering to me. Although an unmarked trail and a little steep, it wasn’t a tough hike. The crisp, early morning air filled my lungs. The scent of the water, the pine trees, and the damp earth that surrounded the rocks mingled in rich aroma. I loved it. The sound of the water spoke to me and gave peace to my soul. I approached the familiar spot, stood before the ledge of rock, and prepared to do what I had always done here . . . what my mother had done and taught me to do. I removed my shoes. The soil, damp from the spray of the waterfall was cool beneath my bare feet and the mist was icy upon my face.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and was filled with a peaceful oneness with the earth. Standing before the ledge, I took in the vista of the falls below me. I knew that this was exactly where I needed to be. I sat on the ledge and calmness fell upon me, as I felt a new strength well up within me. I knew I could handle what was going on in my life and that the current chaos would eventually come to an end. Somehow, I also knew that this was only the beginning of the storm I was destined to endure. An inner voice reminded me that all storms pass and the sun shines again.
I sat there for the better part of an hour and then decided I should get home. I stood up and looked around, taking stock one last time of the place that had always comforted me, and I knew I was ready to face the day. I headed back to my car and drove to the house to meet the crew from the power company.
The day was clear and bright after the terrible storm the night before. The drive back to my house was pleasant but when I pulled up in my driveway, my hands trembled and I couldn’t catch my breath. I sat in my car, staring at my house, my home, my sanctuary . . . afraid to go inside. I hit the garage door opener and watched as the door rose slowly.
“This is ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself.” I forced myself to push the thought of a threat out of my mind. It’s broad daylight. What could possibly happen in broad daylight? Still, as I got out of the car my mouth went dry. I stood in my driveway with my hands balled into fists at my side trying to force myself to at least go into the garage, but I couldn’t move.
The crew from the power company arrived and my apprehension abated a bit. After their initial inspection, it was confirmed that the power to the house had indeed been cut and they proceeded to repair the lines. Soon the man from the glass company arrived and the repair of the front window was underway.
I was packing up some clothes when my cell phone rang. Answering it, I was relieved to hear the pleasant, grandmotherly voice of Mrs. Warren.
“Hello, dear. This is Mrs. Warren,” she said. “I hope I’m not reaching you at a bad time.”
“Oh no, not at all Mrs. Warren. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear. How are you?” she asked.
“Well, actually not so great.”
“Oh my, what happened?”
I quickly filled her in.
“You aren’t staying there alone, are you?” she asked.
“No, actually I’m staying at a hotel for a few days . . . at least until the alarm is installed.”
“Nonsense! You must come and stay with me,” she said firmly. “I insist!”
“Oh, Mrs. Warren, I don’t know. I couldn’t impose and, besides, whoever it is that is after this stone seems dangerous and I couldn’t involve you.”
“My dear, I’m already involved,” she answered.
I thought of our run-in with Mr. Harvey at the museum and what I had overheard when I spoke with her last night on the phone and shivered at the thought.
“I couldn’t put you into any more danger. And, speaking of danger, what happened last night?” I asked.
“It was nothing, dear, nothing worth talking about. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. I’m a tough old bird!”
I laughed at her assessment of herself.
“I really would feel better if you would come and stay with me for a few days.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Warren, but I couldn’t. I’ll probably be working from home and will have to be available for the alarm company. Honestly, I’ll be okay.”
“Well, promise me that you’ll come see me later. Let me fix dinner for you.”
“I would really like that. What time should I be there?”
“Let’s plan on six,” she said.
“That would be wonderful.”
“I don’t like the thought of you being in that house alone. Do you have a pen? Write this number down. It’s my nephew, David. He’s a dog breeder and trainer. I want you to call him and have him get you a nice watch dog
to guard you and keep you safe.”
“Mrs. Warren, I don’t think that’s necessary.” With my work schedule, I didn’t have the time to devote to a dog, nor did I want that responsibility.
“Humor an old woman.”
“All right,” I said, “give me the number.” I jotted down the information and hung up the phone promising her I would call him, without actually intending to do it.
It was just about one o’clock when my cell phone rang again.
“Ms. Hastings,” the man’s voice said.
“Yes.”
“This is Finn from the security company. I finished up with my appointment early and I wonder if we could move your appointment up.”
“That would be great, Finn.”
“Wonderful, I’m on the way and should be there shortly.”
I was loading my belongings into my car when he arrived. Our meeting was brief. We agreed on the type of system I would get and set a new appointment for Thursday to install it. By the time the last repairman drove away it was two-thirty in the afternoon and I was starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation.
My limbs felt like they weighed a ton after unloading my car at the hotel. I asked the front desk for a five o’clock wake-up call and flopped down across the bed. I think my eyes closed before my head even hit the pillow.
His warm hand held mine. I looked up into his smiling eyes and felt the true joy of deep love. My head swirled. Being drawn through time and space had left me feeling dizzy and disoriented. I scanned the area to get a better idea of my surroundings. If the dream catcher was going to keep pulling me to this man, to this time and place, I had better start to try to figure out exactly where and when this place was.
It was an autumn day just as it was at home. Was I actually thinking I had two lives? Two different realities? My conscious mind kicked in . . . Relax Pam, it’s only a dream!
The warmth of the late autumn sun shone on my face as we walked hand-in-hand along the flat bank of the stream. The trickling water sounded like music to my ears and I was content and safe. Running Wolf smiled down at me and drew me closer to his side as if he realized I needed to feel the strength of his protection. As we strolled along, I noticed other members of the Aloscotay tribe beside the riverbanks. Huts made of sheets of tree bark were built in a circle, all facing the great fire pit in the center. The fire was blazing and the enticing smell of bubbling hot stew rose from a large clay pot by the fire.
The women were working in the gardens and several men were filling a bark-lined hole with dried corn, while others were placing pine branches around the bottom of the lodges. I was trying to take it all in and I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Running Wolf said, “We must prepare for the coming of harsh weather. We must be certain that the corn reserve is buried deep in the earth below where it could become frozen.”
Of course, I thought, the Aloscotay tribe must work together for a common goal.
Half-Breed ran close by, sniffing the trail of some small animal that had recently run past. Following my gaze, Running Wolf said, “He is always by our side. He warns us of danger—not only close by, but also danger from afar.” We continued on. “Your visit this time will be short. You have obligations to keep,” he said, “but when next you return we will have more time together. For now, let us enjoy this beautiful afternoon.”
As we came around the bend in the stream there were several bark-covered canoes on the bank. Running Wolf effortlessly pushed one into the stream and held out his hand to help me step into it.
I remember learning how to use one of these back in Girl Scout camp, but I doubted that particular lesson would spring to mind now. I watched as Running Wolf expertly maneuvered the canoe out into the gentle flow of the stream, while Half-Breed followed along on the shore as if unwilling to let us out of his sight.
We meandered down the lazy stream passing low-hanging branches full of brilliantly colored leaves, a few of which had already made their way into the water and were dancing past across the swirling surface of the river.
“Look there,” he whispered as he pointed to the far side of the stream. A large buck stood watching our approach as his doe and fawn bent their heads to drink. We slipped by in silence.
I marveled that the animals didn’t sense danger and rush away. “I never saw anything like that. That was amazing,” I whispered.
He merely chuckled. “You do not have much memory of this place,” he said. “It will return to you soon.”
“I hope so.”
“We will visit Weekatay and your memory will begin to return.”
“Who is Weekatay? How can you know she can help?”
“Weekatay is wise in many ways,” he replied and smiled, as if there were more to the story, but he wasn’t going to say.
As we rounded the bend, Half-Breed was standing on a rock that jutted out at the water’s edge. “How did you come to have that . . . dog?” I asked.
“Half-Breed? One of the tribe’s dogs mated with the Spirit of the Wolf, and Half-Breed was born. I saved him from drowning when he was a pup and he has been my guardian ever since. He cares for all that is mine. Sometimes, I think him more wolf than dog as he carries the Spirit of the Wolf in him.”
“Why does the tribe keep dogs?”
“They guard what is ours and warn us of trouble and attack.”
As we approached the shore, Half-Breed barked. He ran back and forth along the bank of the river and his bushy tail wagged with excitement. I was still seated when Running Wolf pushed the canoe onto the riverbank.
I was about to get up when Half-Breed came and laid his large head in my lap. He gazed up at me with his strange eyes and wagged his tail. A slight whine came from deep in his throat. My hand instinctively reached up to rub his ears. Then he lifted his head and stared right into my eyes. I glanced at Running Wolf, who watched with that knowing look on his face.
But I couldn’t look away from the penetrating gaze of the animal. What was Half-Breed trying to tell me? Then suddenly his big wet tongue slobbered the side of my face and he turned and padded away. Running Wolf laughed and so did I. He helped me out of the canoe and as he wrapped his arms around me, he leaned down and gently kissed me.
Half-Breed whined and Running Wolf nodded. “Time is short and you must go.” He held me close.
I wanted to memorize the feel of him, the smell of him and the way the heat of him poured from his body and melted into mine.
Half-Breed whined again and nudged Running Wolf’s leg. Running Wolf glanced down at the animal. “Come,” he said to me. “They are about to call you back.”
How could he know this, and why couldn’t he stop it from happening?
He met my gaze. “I will see you tonight, my Princess,” he whispered.
Then the telephone rang and I jumped up in bed with a start.
Chapter 6
“Hello?”
“Room 302?” the teenager said while popping her gum. “This is your wake-up call.”
“Oh, yes, thank you,” I answered sleepily. The line went dead in my hand.
“Not much ‘courtesy’ in that courtesy call,” I mumbled and hung up the phone.
Dragging myself out of bed I headed for the shower. It didn’t take me long to get ready. I tucked the dream catcher into my purse for safekeeping and turned to give the room a quick once over before I closed the door behind me.
I stopped at the flower shop in the hotel lobby and picked up a bouquet of yellow roses to bring to Mrs. Warren. It wasn’t until I was halfway to her house that my stomach growled. I realized I was really hungry and that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
The drive was an easy one. I popped in a new CD as I drove, enjoying the scenery and listening to the music. I felt relaxed for the first time in days and was really looking forward to spending some time with Mrs. Warren. Since she came to my rescue at the museum, helping me get away from Mr. Harvey, I felt safe with her. I wondered if I could get Mrs. Warren to t
ell me more about Mr. Harvey. Maybe I could find out more about what was really going on and why she thinks he is such a threat.
I pulled up in front of her house a few minutes before six. The well-kept Victorian had an immaculately manicured lawn with autumn flowers lining the walkway. The edge of a greenhouse was barely visible from around back, which must account for the beautiful flowers that surrounded her property, but it was the extraordinary house I found enchanting. What else would a museum curator own but an old Victorian? Probably has some historical background, too.
Mrs. Warren greeted me at the door with a big smile and a grandmotherly hug. The smell of homemade cookies clung to her and filled my senses. I felt like I was coming home. “How was your day, dear?” she asked.
“Well, I got my power back on.”
“Good news. Come on in, make yourself at home. I’ll just be a few minutes in the kitchen to put these beautiful flowers in some water.”
“Can I help you with something?” I asked as I followed along behind the old woman.
“Oh no, sweetie, I have everything under control, but you can come keep me company. Dinner will be ready soon. How about we have a nice cup of tea while we wait?”
“That sounds great.”
As I followed her into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but look around at the furnishings. A mixture of antiques and odd pieces, which blended wonderfully together and gave the very cozy feeling of home. I sighed and as I exhaled, total relaxation came over me. I noticed she had framed some old photos and had hung them along the wall in the hallway. I wondered if the people in those photos were her ancestors.
We entered the kitchen and the delicious smell of roasting chicken filled the air. The kitchen was eclectic and had a wonderful, warm, comforting feeling. She was cooking on an antique flat-top cast-iron stove stocked with wood.
Mrs. Warren placed the flowers on the counter and went to a nearby cabinet.
According to Legend Page 4
