According to Legend

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According to Legend Page 17

by Gerri Brousseau


  Weeketay smiled. “You possessed the powers from birth, but they sleep within you until you awaken them.”

  “Awaken them?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said, looking from me to Moheeladeck. “By falling in love, for that is where the true magic lays.” And with that, she vanished.

  I wondered if I would ever get used to Weekatay’s strange comings and goings that felt so foreign, but I realized that she always left me with a strong feeling of love that bound us in a way I could never have imagined.

  “Moheeladeck, why can’t you help me?” I asked.

  “I possess no magic other than my love for you. Your heart is pure and you will find the right path. I only wish to keep you safe while you seek that path. The warriors and I stand ready to come to you. Summon us if you need help, but now I must go back to the People. I have work to do there. I will see you tonight.”

  He leaned his head to kiss me, after which I uttered the words to send him back to his realm. I would do as Weeketay had asked and for the remainder of the day I would eat nothing more.

  I had a lot of time to kill and had to stay busy in order to keep my mind off my grumbling stomach. I took out the laptop and started doing some research. I accessed local databases to search for the birth records of David Conner. I estimated his age by all he had told me. I also searched two years earlier and two years later. Should I have been surprised that after researching the local databases I found no record of his birth?

  I broadened my search to the records for the entire state and my query still yielded no results. Okay, who is this guy? I may have been Takshawee, but in this realm, I was Pam Hastings, born to Jill and Richard Hastings. I had a birth certificate, didn’t I? My heart raced. Did I? I had never seen it. I had never traveled where I would have needed to produce it, or obtain a passport. I went to school and had a driver’s license, so certainly my parents would have had to provide a birth certificate, but I couldn’t recall. My mouth went dry and my fingers flashed across the keyboard of the laptop as I typed in my hometown and searched for the record of my birth. I breathed a sigh of relief when it popped up. I was afraid for a moment that I didn’t really exist either.

  Who was this man I knew as David Conner? I wonder if he had some significance in the life of Takshawee. Did he have significance in the life of Weeketay’s sister, Teelaktay, or her daughter? If his spirit gave rebirth to an ancient spirit just as mine did, who had he been? Someone had to have these answers and I wanted to know the truth. Did Weeketay know? How was she going to help me tonight?

  I thought about David saying he suspected that his mother had been murdered. I wonder what made him think that and I wonder if anyone else suspected. I had to talk to him before I could find any of these answers, but I wasn’t going to call him now. I would see him soon enough.

  Right now I had to concentrate on finding out what powers I possessed and how to use them.

  Now you’re on the right track, Princess, Half-Breed said. I was so engrossed in my thoughts I nearly forgot he was sitting by my side.

  What do you mean, Half-Breed?

  You must look within yourself. Therein you will always find your answers.

  Since when had Half-Breed become the voice of wisdom?

  You’re probably right, Half-Breed. I’ll just wait until tonight when Weeketay shows me how to use my powers.

  He just shook his head in disappointment. Was I missing something? Was I just not getting it?

  What? I asked him.

  Just as throughout your entire life, your heart and spirit would draw you to the location of the stone; so, too, deep in your heart and spirit, you know how to access and use all the powers you possess.

  I do?

  Yes, Princess, you do.

  Chapter 25

  I was anxious to see Weekatay and for the rest of the day checked the clock every five minutes. But it seemed as if it wasn’t moving. The day was dragging on. As the evening wore on, my impatience mounted and I grew tired of pacing. Finally, I decided I’d had enough and would go to bed early.

  I was just getting into my PJ’s when my cell phone rang. David. I thought of letting it go to voice mail but was worried that maybe someone had discovered what he had told me, so I answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi! It’s me.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I’m just calling to make sure you’re all right and to say good night. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “That’s so sweet. I’m fine. Actually, I was getting ready to turn in early.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “You’re not a bother.”

  Half-Breed reacted as if he were hacking up a hairball.

  “Hey, since you called, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” I said.

  “What is it? Is something wrong? Has something happened?” Panic rose in his voice.

  “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s, well, I hope you don’t get upset but, I was thinking about some of the things we talked about today, and I have a few questions," I stammered as I sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Why would that upset me? I’m happy to know I was on your mind. What would you like to know?”

  “I was wondering, what makes you think your mother was, ah—”

  “Murdered?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was never sick a day in her life, Pam.”

  “David, that’s not a basis—”

  “No, no it’s not, but there’s more.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “Remember I told you how my entire life it was as if I had two mothers?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Everything was normal,” he said. I thought I heard a smile in his voice. “Well, as normal as it ever was for me, with my mom never making any decisions. It was always what Auntie wanted. Mom and I even lived in the Victorian with her because that’s what Auntie wanted. Anyway, when I wanted to go away to college, my mom was thrilled. She was very supportive and encouraging. She said it was important for me to get away from this town and to find my own path.”

  “Okay.”

  “My mother seemed adamant that I get away from here. Still, it came as no surprise to me when Auntie disapproved. She didn’t want me to go away. She didn’t want me to be a vet. She wanted me to stay here in town, go to the local community college, and work at the museum.”

  “I still don’t see any cause for you to believe your mother was . . . murdered.” A shudder ran through me at the mention of the word.

  “It was around that time that they really started arguing a lot. They never argued in front of me but I overheard them. I remember how Auntie treated my mom, telling her that the decisions were not Mom’s to make. Auntie frequently reminded my mother that the decisions were made by the person who was picking up the tab.”

  “Picking up the tab?”

  “Yeah, I think Auntie enjoyed belittling my mother by reminding her who it was that paid all the bills. Anyway, during one of their arguments, I heard Auntie say ‘He’s my responsibility. I should have never entrusted his care to you.’ She said that she would rather see Mom dead than allow her to let me to go away to school.”

  “David, that doesn’t constitute—”

  “After that, I started to apply to local colleges. Auntie was pleased and my mom was less anxious. I knew then that my mother was afraid of my aunt, but Mom knew my heart. She knew I wanted to go to New Hampshire. I guess Auntie was going to pay for my college, but only if I went to the school of her choice. Auntie sets conditions to get her way, and, believe me, she always gets her way. Only this time my mother stood up to her and helped me. She sold some stock or something and somehow came up with the money for me to go to the University of New Hampshire. I was thrilled, Auntie was furious, and Mom was anxious. I went, even though Auntie disapproved.”

  “Go on.”

  “When I would call home, Mom was always cheerful but I could hear the underlying strain in
her voice. I guessed that Auntie was making life pretty miserable for her. My mother never said a word about it, but I could tell. I knew.

  “When I would come home for visits, the tension between them was obvious. Once I brought my roommate, Rick, home for a weekend. Auntie never said or did anything to make him feel uncomfortable, but I knew she wasn’t happy about that friendship or that visit. She never approved of any of my friends and discouraged me from getting involved in any relationship, even a simple friendship.

  “The final straw was when I started seeing Annie.”

  “Annie?” I thought he said he’d never been in love and wondered why this mattered so much to me.

  Lost in the telling of his tale, his voice ambled on. “I remember hearing one really terrible argument between them. I remember Auntie telling Mom that they worked too hard to lose it all over that insignificant girl. Auntie wanted Mom to discourage me from pursuing a relationship with Annie. For some reason, and I’m not sure what, Auntie didn’t want me to fall in love. She even said so that night when she was arguing with my mother.”

  “I have to agree, that is pretty strange.”

  “I thought so, too. That was when Auntie actually accused my mother of being careless and taking too much of a risk sending me to a school out of town. She said, ‘If we lose it all, over this, it will be your fault. I didn’t want him to go away to college, I wanted him to stay close to home so that we could monitor these things, but you saw fit to undermine my authority. I can see he’s starting to have feelings for this girl now and if he falls in love with her, it will awaken his knowledge. It’s going to cost us everything. I will not allow this to continue.’ She was yelling, ‘I’ll do anything I have to do to preserve our rights, to guide David to the path we both know he is destined to take.’”

  “Awaken your knowledge?” I asked.

  “That’s what she said.”

  “What was so important that your aunt felt they were about to lose and I wonder what she felt you were destined to do?” Did it have anything to do with Takshawee?

  “I have no idea. After that I feared Auntie’s retaliation toward my mom so I broke things off with Annie. Then something really weird happened. Auntie did a complete turn around and started treating Mom really nice. The last time I came home for a visit, before Mom got real sick, I remember Auntie started bringing Mom a cup of tea every night.”

  “Well, that’s very sweet.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too, until one night when Mom refused it. She said she wasn’t in the mood for tea. Not to hurt Auntie’s feelings, I picked up the cup and said I would drink it. Auntie jumped up and quickly snatched the cup from my hand. I thought she would blow a gasket. She actually stood over my mother and made sure she drank it. All of it.”

  “Now that’s weird.”

  “Yeah. Shortly after that, Mom started getting real sick.”

  “Did your aunt continue to make tea for her, even when she was sick?”

  “Yes. She said she was putting special healing herbs from her greenhouse into the tea to help Mom. My aunt knows a lot about herbs.”

  “Do you think your aunt may have been poisoning your mother?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

  “Do you have any proof?”

  There was silence on the other end. I could hear David breathing, then his voice came back more emphatically. “No, but I know I’m right. I just know in my heart that she did it.”

  “Have you ever been in the greenhouse? Do you know what she’s growing in there?”

  “No, but there’s more,” he said. “Near the end, I spent a lot of time with Mom. She and I talked about a lot of things. She said she wanted me to live a good life, fall in love, get married, and have a family. She wanted me to do what made me happy and not let anyone else control me. I knew she was referring to my aunt, although she didn’t say it. That was when she came up with the idea for the kennel, but cautioned me to keep my dreams and plans from Auntie, sort of like a warning.

  “Then one night, Mom was probably sensing she was going to die soon, she said that she wanted me to know the truth, a secret she had kept from me my entire life. She was about to tell me something important, but just then Auntie came bursting into the room with a tea tray and Mom never got the chance to tell me. That night, she died, and her secret died with her.”

  “Did you ever ask your aunt if she knew what your mother wanted to tell you?”

  “Yes, but of course Auntie passed it off as the rambling thoughts of a very sick and dying woman.”

  “Your Aunt Agnes? She’s such a sweet, nice, old lady. It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem possible.” I thought about her helping me escape Mr. Harvey at the museum, and of her kindness in inviting me to dinner at her home. It didn’t seem logical.

  “Yeah, that’s what has me confused. Mom’s death really hit Auntie pretty hard, but I still can’t help how I feel.”

  The entire situation was crazy. “David, where were you born?” I asked in an effort to change the subject and gain more information about who David really was.

  “Here in town, why?”

  “Don’t get upset but I did some research and, well, there is no record of the birth of anyone by the name of David Conner.”

  “What?”

  “Have you ever seen your birth certificate?”

  “Well, no, but I must’ve needed one to go to school, to get a driver’s license, to do pretty much everything. But my mom or my aunt usually took care of those things.”

  “Yeah, mine, too. David, I’m sure there’s some simple explanation, but you should go to town hall and see if you could hunt down a copy.”

  “Okay, but I want you to come with me. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can meet at the town hall.”

  After a few more minutes of conversation, we said our good nights and hung up.

  This situation had become a tangled web of deceit. I had to try to figure out what was really going on and what this was all about, and, even more importantly, what it had to do with me.

  When I crawled into bed, Half-Breed was already asleep snoring away and curled up on his side of the bed. That wolf could sleep through a cyclone.

  I got comfortable in bed, pulled up the covers, placed my hand over the catcher and drifted off to sleep.

  Weeketay was standing beside the stream near the sweat lodge.

  “Ah, daughter,” she said and we greeted each other with a hug. “Did you do as I asked? Did you take no more food this day?”

  “I did as you instructed, Mother. What must I do next?”

  “First, we will purify the lodge,” she said as she knelt and put the end of a small bunch of what I recognized as sage into the flames of the fire pit. As the sage began to smolder, it gave off an aromatic smoke. She stood and went into the lodge chanting as she waved the smoking herb around. I watched her from the doorway. “All evil spirits will be carried away on the smoke,” she explained. Next, she lit the end of some braided sweet grass and the fragrant smoke mingled with the sage. “This will purify the lodge,” she said. “Now it is time for you to enter.”

  I ducked my head down to follow her into the lodge. There was a fire blazing in a smaller fire pit surrounded by flat rocks. It was so hot in there that I stripped off my warm deerskin tunic. Weekatay helped me to remove everything but the very smallest of loin covering. I marveled at my tan skin and long, taut limbs, and I was remarkably comfortable with my nakedness.

  “Sit there on that mat before the fire,” she instructed. Lifting a gourd ladle of water from a clay pot, she poured it onto the hot rocks surrounding the fire. Steam rose off of the rocks and swirled up to mingle with the smoke from the sage, sweet grass, and the fire. She moved toward the door.

  “Wait!” I nearly yelled.

  She turned.

  “You aren’t leaving me are you?” I asked in a more controlled tone.

  “I am going to prepare you and then I will leave you to your task.”

&nbs
p; “Prepare me?”

  “Yes.”

  She knelt beside me and proceeded to paint my face black with the soot from the fire.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked nervously, remembering the funeral ceremony.

  “You must do this to draw the attention of the Fire Spirit who is the messenger to the spirit world. This will summon your Manitou, your Spirit Guide.” She then handed me a tiny wooden cup. “Drink.” I brought the smooth wooden cup to beneath my nose and sniffed at the black fluid within.

  “What is this? It smells awful.”

  “Drink it. You must drink all of it.”

  Placing the cup to my lips, I tipped my head back and drank it. It tasted like dirt, and I swallowed hard to force it down.

  Then she placed a few items before the fire. “This is an offering you are to burn,” she said as she placed a bunch of dark leaves on the rocks near the flames. Was that tobacco? “Hopefully your Manitou will find it pleasing.”

  Then she produced a small hand-held drum. She showed me how to use it and how to recite the proper chants. “You must continue to perform this ritual until you gain the attention of your Manitou. Then you will have a dream or a vision that will lead you to the answers that you seek.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Until your Manitou gives you the vision or dream.”

  She moved toward the door, turned back, and said, “There is wood there behind you, do not let the fire go out.”

  And then she was gone.

  I did everything just as she instructed. Banged the drum, wailed and moaned the chant, put the offering, on the fire. I felt like an idiot, but I needed to figure out how to access these so-called powers everyone kept telling me I had.

  It was so hot in the lodge. Between the oppressive heat and smoke, and not having eaten all day, and whatever that vile liquid was she forced me to drink, I started to feel lightheaded. Keep going. Try to focus on the flames.

  I was sitting cross-legged before the fire but I thought maybe if I pull my knees up in front of me, I could rest my head on them. If I could just put my head down for a moment, maybe I wouldn’t feel so dizzy. The lodge was starting to spin so I rested my head upon my knees. I laid my head there for what I thought was only a moment, but must have been a lot longer.

 

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