Charmed

by Catherine Hart

  She recalled the age-old suggestion that a speaker, while envisioning himself as fully clothed, should envision the members of his audience as naked. When she related this to Silver Thorn, he deduced, “This is supposed to make you feel superior, and thus more confident?”

  “Yes, but in this instance, I don’t think it will have the desired calming effect. Most likely, I’d just get the giggles and insult everyone, which is the worst thing I could do.”

  “You are making this more difficult than need be,” he told her “Think of yourself as their teacher, and them as your students.”

  Nikki thought about his suggestion, then grinned. “That will work, as long as I can keep from imagining them in high-top sneakers and Dead Frog T-shirts. The earrings won’t throw me, since many of the boys in my class sport small studs. Those you Shawnee wear are much more elaborate, however.”

  “Dead Frog T-shirts?” he echoed.

  She laughed. “Don’t ask. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

  During the first part of the meeting, Nikki sat quietly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. When the calumet filled with sacred tobacco was passed around, she was not expected to partake, which was fortunate since she was sure she would choke on the smoke and make a complete fool of herself. Each of the ten attendees then rose and gave a short oration, conducted primarily in Shawnee. As Silver Thorn explained to her, this was normal opening protocol for all councils. Finally, Nikki was introduced to the assembly.

  Nikki had found a pack of chewing gum in her purse. As a prelude to her talk, and as a gesture of goodwill, she passed the sticks out. Feeling much like a magician at his first major performance, Nikki watched as the chiefs warily unwrapped the sticks of gum and, following her example, popped them into their mouths and began to chew. Caution instantly turned to delight. With nods all around, they exclaimed over the mint-sweet treat.

  Having gotten their attention, Nikki launched into her prepared dialogue. Silver Thorn stood by, to interpret her words for those few who did not understand English.

  “My brothers, my fathers, my grandfathers: Silver Thorn summoned me from the future to tell you what is to become of our people. What I must relay saddens me greatly, for in the time to come, the Americans will claim this land for their own and all tribes will be forced to move from their homes to new locations west of the Great Mississippi River. Regardless of Tecumseh’s efforts, there will be no stopping them.

  “In this war between the British and the Americans, Tecumseh has unwittingly chosen to align himself and his followers with the wrong side, mistakenly assuming that they will win. The British will soon leave these shores, never to return. They will not be here to pay the price for the American victory or to offer their protection to you. Those of you who seek peace with the Americans now, who do not follow Tecumseh’s route of war, may fare better, though I cannot promise that this will be so. Who can say if, once a people’s destiny is written on the wind, it may be altered or not? But to align yourselves with a losing cause will surely bring bitter retribution. Would it not be better to form a favorable bond with those who will win this battle that they would recall our good intentions?

  “Therefore, I beseech you. Speak with your tribes. Warn your people against aligning themselves with the British or Tecumseh’s warriors. Also, if you can sway others away from his side before it is too late for them, I implore you to do so, for their own sakes as well as yours.”

  Nikki paused. Her expression was even more solemn as she continued. “The tide has already begun to turn in this war. Now the British and Tecumseh will taste defeat, while the Americans will taste of victory. Soon will come a great battle in Canada. There, if he cannot be persuaded to abandon his cause, Tecumseh and many of his warriors will fall. Tecumseh’s death will signal the demise of his alliance.”

  She looked at each of the chiefs in turn. “I do not wish for this to happen, to see so many brave men spill their blood in the waging of a war which is not truly theirs. But if Tecumseh does not turn back now, I can see no way to prevent this loss of life, this waste of courage. If any among you can sway your fellows, or they Tecumseh, I beg you to try. Perhaps the worst of the tragedy may yet be averted. I can only hope that what is recorded of this time in history may yet be rewritten.”

  At the end of her oration, Nikki resumed her seat. Amid the resulting silence, she fought not to fidget.

  At last, Peahchaete, the Shawnee chief from the Hog Creek band, spoke. “Your words are persuasive, but how can we know that they are true?”

  Chief Black Hoof, who was the principal chief of all the Shawnee and Peahchaete’s superior in rank, straightened. His back became as rigid as a post and his face stern with censure. “Do you dare to question my niece’s honor, Peahchaete? I should cut your tongue from your mouth for such insolence.”

  Afraid he would do just that, Nikki strove to intervene. “I am sure he meant no disrespect, Uncle. Peahchaete is a prudent man, I suspect, and requires more convincing. Only a fool would not question such distressing and alarming news when presented by a stranger.”

  “Is this so, Peahchaete?” Black Hoof demanded.

  Peahchaete gave a brusque nod. “Yes, my chief. I seek to know more of how Neeake came to be here and from whence she came. How do we know that Silver Thorn, while trying to summon a revealer of truth, did not conjure instead a ghost? Is she truly your niece—or a clever pretender?”

  “So now it is my skill you question,” Silver Thorn put in angrily. “Peahchaete, take care. You are treading shaky ground.”

  Yet another chief now inserted his concerns. “While your powers are renowned, Silver Thorn, so are those of your brother. Both you and Tecumseh have repeatedly demonstrated your immense might. Now, by bringing Neeake here, you have presented us with a dilemma. Whom do we believe? You? Or Tecumseh, who has also performed miraculous feats and claims to know what is best for our people? How do we choose between you?”

  “He has a valid argument, husband,” Nikki said. “If you will permit me, I will offer more evidence in our favor. I’m sure we can settle this to everyone’s satisfaction and without needless animosity. After all, we are gathered here in an effort to promote peace, not violence, are we not?” To her relief, everyone seemed agreeable to her suggestion. They all settled back and waited expectantly.

  Nikki hoped she hadn’t just painted herself and Silver Thorn into a corner. She’d opened her big mouth. Now it was time to put up or shut up. “Okay, fellas,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s showtime.”

  Removing her digital watch, she held it out for all of them to see. “This is a timepiece,” she explained. “Right now, it shows the present hour, the minute, and the seconds which are fast passing. However, when I push this button, it displays the date. The month, the day, and the year. As Silver Thorn can verify, according to the white man’s calendar, this year is 1813. I hail from the year 1996, a hundred-and-eighty-three years into the future. Now, who among you can read the white man’s numbers?”

  Two of the chiefs indicated that they could. Nikki handed the watch over to the nearest of them. “Push that small button on the side and tell me what numbers appear on the front.”

  The man swelled with pride at having been selected to perform this task. Poking at the prescribed knob, he squinted at the face. “A six stands alone, then a three and an aught as a pair. Last, I see a one, two nines, and a six all together.”

  Nikki nodded. “The six stands for the sixth month, June. Silver Thorn tells me that you call it the Moon When the Hot Weather Begins. The three and the zero combined make up the number thirty, which is the final day of the month. The last four digits represent the year, in this case the year from which I came. Nineteen hundred and ninety-six.”

  Several of the chiefs readily accepted her explanation and the verification of the date by their fellow leader. A few still doubted. “What else can you show us?” one asked. “This timepiece is interesting, but perhaps you are able to change t
he numbers to any you desire to have it display.”

  “Smart cookie!” she declared softly. “Okay, let’s try something else.” From the pocket of her dress, she produced her calculator. “This device adds numbers and gives the sum very quickly. I will match its answers against any of yours—and do it in the blink of an eye.” She demonstrated by adding a column of numbers, subtotaling, then dividing by four and displaying the total, all within seconds.

  Those watching accepted her challenge and began shouting out numbers to her. A couple of the men, attempting to stump her, computed lengthy mathematical calculations of their own, and only after reaching their own conclusion did they offer up the problem to her. For the next few minutes, Nikki’s fingers flew over the calculator buttons. Again and again, her tiny device spit out the correct answer, in a fraction of the time it took to do so by ordinary means. Inevitably, however, there came the moment she’d dreaded—when her total differed with that of one of the chiefs. While the others watched, she and he both recalculated. In the end, hers proved to be correct, and she heaved a silent sigh of relief that she hadn’t pressed a wrong button.

  “You still present us with nothing but numbers,” another man protested. “Show us something different from the realm of the future, something uncommon to our time.”

  Black Hoof handed her the cigarette lighter. Feeling ridiculously like a cross between a Tupperware demonstrator and a circus hawkster and hoping her uncle hadn’t used up the butane, Nikki flicked her Bic. This time, all present were properly awed. They exclaimed in amazement over her “firestick,” each of them wanting his turn at making it light. When she produced her flashlight, their reaction to her “torch with no flame” was much the same.

  At length, Black Hoof called them to order. “Having seen for yourselves the marvels of her world, what say you now, my chiefs? Do you believe or nay?”

  As one body, they were sufficiently convinced. After conferring with Black Hoof and Silver Thorn, lest her dates be wrong, Nikki issued a prediction of her own. “Any day now, General Harrison of the American Army will contact you, wanting to parley. He seeks to assure himself that you will all remain peaceful.”

  Black Hoof cast an eagle eye upon his underlings. “I trust that you will ease his mind on this matter,” he said solemnly. “I also trust that you will heed my niece’s warnings and act upon them without delay.”

  As it happened, there was no time for argument, or for further discussion, for at that moment a runner entered the lodge to announce the imminent arrival of General William Henry Harrison of the United States Army.

  Chapter Sixteen

  According to Shawnee tradition, this was the last day the football ceremony could be performed. General Harrison, or no General Harrison, this important Shawnee ritual would go on as planned. So Chief Black Hoof decreed.

  Though not pleased at the postponement of his impromptu peace conference, Harrison was at the same time relieved to learn that the Indians had gathered at Wapakoneta for nonviolent purposes rather than to conduct a war meeting. He was further appeased when Black Hoof invited him to stay and observe the ceremonies. Additionally, the general would have the opportunity to speak with Johnny Chapman, who often kept the U.S. military informed concerning Indian plans to attack white settlements. Though not actually employed as an army scout or spy, Chapman was a loyal American who felt it his duty to warn his fellow countrymen of impending danger. Over the years, he had saved countless lives, never asking anything in return.

  Nikki, with her tan, her dark hair, and her new doeskin dress, blended well with the other villagers. She was confident that, as long as Harrison and the members of his entourage didn’t get close enough to notice her eyes, they would never suspect she hadn’t been born and raised in the tribe. Even if they did, the oddity could be explained by letting him assume she had a white ancestor in her background, which was not all that rare, actually. Many frontiersmen had taken Indian wives in the years since Ohio had first begun to be settled. Moreover, none of the Shawnee were going to spill the beans to a white man about their Mystical Messenger from the Future.

  Still, knowing what she did, Harrison presented quite a temptation to Nikki. Of all of them, she was the only one who knew what the coming years would hold for this man—that he would someday become President of the United States, if only for a month before he contracted pneumonia and died. She’d never been this close to a President before, except when Ronald Reagan had made a stop in Allen County during his campaign and she’d gotten to shake his hand at the airport.

  Of course, at that time Reagan hadn’t been President yet. He’d merely been the Republican candidate. Harrison, on the other hand, was a sure bet, which made Nikki feel oddly akin to a gypsy fortuneteller who’d misplaced her crystal ball. How she wished she could march right up to Harrison and blurt out everything she knew about him— things the man himself didn’t even suspect yet!

  It was a shame she couldn’t do just that, but caution dictated otherwise. However, when no one was paying heed, she did find the opportunity to snap Harrison’s picture when he was standing with Black Hoof outside the council lodge. Immediately afterward, she stashed her camera in her backpack in the wigewa, counting herself fortunate that no one, most especially Silver Thorn, had caught her taking such a stupid risk.

  As the time for the football game approached, Nikki’s fascination found a new target. Much to her surprise, Silver Thorn had no objections to her playing with the rest of the women. She’d thought he would claim that the game was too rough, that in her delicate condition she should not participate.

  When she broached the subject, he told her simply, “I foresee no danger to you or the child or I would forbid it.”

  Nikki batted her lashes at him in an exaggerated way and clasped a hand over her heart. “Gee, I forgot I was married to a soothsayer. Sorry, darling. I should have known you would already have divined the whole affair. So tell me, who is going to win today, the men or the women?”

  “The men, naturally,” he replied with a wink.

  “Did you see this or is it just wishful thinking?”

  “I need no prophesy for my prediction. We men have the advantage of added strength, speed, and height. Moreover, the women have won only one of the last ten games between us.”

  “Yes, but that was before they invited me to join their team,” she reminded him with a smug grin. “I’m a football enthusiast from way back, and I know all the best moves, the strategic plays. Brains can win out over brawn any day of the week.”

  “Would you care to wager on that?” he proposed.

  “I already have,” she informed him. “I bet my tube of coral lipstick against Fire Heart’s silver hoop earring, and my breath mints and hand cream against Black Hoof’s hair disc, the one with the eagle feather dangling from it. My uncle was hoping to get my flashlight, but we Scots are shrewd negotiators. I learned from the best—my mom. Given the opportunity, I believe she could have talked Jack Benny out of his violin.”

  Silver Thorn didn’t bother to ask who Jack Benny was. He was much more interested in contracting a wager with his wife. His eyes glittered like twin stars as he leaned closer and said, “I would make you a more interesting offer, little goose.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?” she asked with a flirtatious toss of her head.

  “You have shown me the pictures of your family that you keep in your handbag. I am particularly fond of the one of you as a baby, lying naked on that white pelt. If you will teach me how to use your camera, I would have a picture of you that way again.”

  She shot him what would have been an innocent look, if not for the teasing gleam in her eyes. “Gosh, I don’t know, Thorn. I’m not into pornography. Besides, I’ve grown a bit since then and you don’t have a white pelt, do you?”

  His grin was devilish. “No, but the bear fur would serve well, do you not agree?”

  “I suppose it might,” she hedged, “but what would you do with the photo if you had it? You do
n’t have a gym locker to tape it in, and I wouldn’t want it hanging someplace where everybody and his brother might see it.”

  He agreed adamantly. “Most assuredly not! This is a private matter between husband and wife. No one would ever set eyes upon it but me, for I would keep it safe within my spirit bag.” He touched the small leather pouch which hung from a cord around his neck.

  Nikki eyed the pouch curiously. “What else do you keep in there?”

  “My special charms, those objects which the Spirits have directed me to keep with me always for protection against illness and enemies. The contents are personal, known only to me, as is our way. That is all I can tell you, Neeake, for I would not anger the Spirits by revealing these items to you; and you must promise that you will respect my privacy and never look upon them.”

  She frowned. “I’m as inquisitive as the next gal, but I’m not a snoop. And I certainly wouldn’t want you to do anything that goes against your religious beliefs. If it’s that sacred to you, you have my word. I’ll never so much as peek into that little magic bag of yours.”

  He nodded, accepting her pledge. “We have strayed from our original discussion.”

  “The wager. Okay, I know what you want, but what are you willing to match for a picture of me, butt-naked on a bear rug?”

  That roguish grin was back in place. “Would you care for a saddle of your own?” he offered.

  Nikki shook her head. “I don’t think so. In a few months I’ll be too fat to ride.”