Shield Skin

by F. E. Arliss

  Emery rejoiced in seeing hawks circling and the occasional band of antelope raise their long necks and stare at them, sometimes before bounding off in alarm. They’d ridden unspeaking for a couple of hours before the older woman said, “You appear to like animals very much.”

  “Yes!” Emery stated emphatically. “So much more helpful than most people.”

  “Hmmmm,” Kimimela agreed absent-mindedly. “By the way, you can just call me Kimi. My name means loosely, ‘butterfly hawk’, which is weird and a non-existent being. I think my mother meant it metaphorically at the time.”

  Emery nodded. “It’s a nice name with beautiful meaning. I like it,” she stated simply.

  Over the next three hours they began to get to know each other better, and by the time they arrived at the cabins in the narrow meadow where she would spend the summer, Emery had a good feeling about Kimimela Chatan. Together they rubbed down the mules, made sure they were fed and watered and then shut them up in the corral behind the largest cabin.

  It turned out to be a workshop area, not a living area. Herbs hung from the rafters and different types of bones, bark, dried grasses and other herbs hung from the walls and low rafters. A fireplace with a chair on either side dominated one side and a long table took up most of the rest of the space.

  Kimimela showed Emery to her own small cabin after they’d toured the workshop and then said, “This is your sleeping and private space. The outhouse is to the west about a quarter mile down that path.” She showed Emery a deeply grooved path that meandered behind a series of sharply upturned boulders. “It’s not too far away, but keeps the odor and worry about ground water out of the drinking aquaphor beneath us.”

  “This is the bathing facility,” she motioned toward an old metal watering trough, complete with a rusty pipe that gushed water in occasional spurts as the breeze meanderingly turned the screeching metal blades atop the windmill next to it. “We also get our drinking water out of the pipe, so don’t get shampoo or soap on it when you’re rinsing the suds off. Got it?” Kimi barked.

  “Got it!” Emery said firmly, suppressing her inner groan at the idea of a cold bath and even colder head-washing. Nothing like cold water on a sweaty head to give you a bad cold, was her thinking. Shaking it off, she chided herself that she sounded just like the old biddies!

  Her cabin was about fifty feet from the workshop hut and another sixty feet or so from the other hut she supposed was Kimimela’s sleeping hut. It looked alarmingly ancient, but when she pushed on the door jamb to see if it was solid, it remained immovable.

  “Oak,” Kimimela said matter-of-factly. “Turns hard as rock over time. This cabin is more than one-hundred fifty years old. It’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry.”

  The interior was gloomy and sported only one deeply grimy window over a small board that had been nailed to the wall to act as a desk/table. A rickety stool had been pushed under it and a battered tin cup and pitcher stood on one end of the narrow shelf. A 1950’s captain’s chair leaned drunkenly against one wall, a broken back-leg propped up on a chunk of rock made it sound. What looked like an enormous glob of hardened tar held the leg in place at the top of the rock.

  Dust motes shone brightly in the last rays of the setting sun and cast a dancing movement over the wooden bunk-like tray-bed built into one corner. It would serve as her sleeping area and also appeared to be made of oak and would probably be hard as rock if it weren’t for the pile of stiff sheep skins that was piled at the end of it.

  Emery said, “Thank you. I’ll shake out the skins and get my sleeping bag down in a bit. It looks very comfortable, thank you.”

  The older woman snorted kindly, then said, “You’ve got good manners girl. It’ll probably be very uncomfortable, but it’s all we’ve got. You can call me Kimi for short. Dinner in fifteen minutes. There’s a bar of soap on the water spout. See you in the workshop then.” With that, Kimi swirled out the door and walked off whistling.

  Emery took the sheepskins outside and shook them as hard as she could. Most of them were quite stiff and old, but once the dust had been whacked off against the side of the cabin, they appeared serviceable. She made a neat pile of them, then placed her sleeping back atop them. On the wall she found several rusty old nails and unpacked her backpack, hanging most of the items in a logical order of use as she went. Finally, that done, she tried the stool and chair.

  The chair was amazingly solid and quite comfortable. Those old wooden captain chairs might be ugly, but they were built right. The bar stool almost threw her on the ground as it swayed alarmingly from side to side. Finally, putting a leg on either side, she managed to figure out how to perch at the narrow bar table without falling. It would certainly be an adventure and she would avoid using that stool as much as possible.

  Both Deira and Don Juan had scurried out of their hiding spots and disappeared to explore. Emery could sense them nearby enjoying themselves immensely.

  In the deepening dusk, she walked slowly to the water trough, groped in the dark for the bar of soap and then splashed water on her face and neck, hoping to wash some of the dust from her skin before dinner. Strangely, the metallic taste of the water and strangely strong odor of iron and dust, didn’t repulse her. It felt good to cool down and feel a little bit more clean.

  Emery stumbled towards the light shining from the workshop, twice stubbing her toe violently on an errant stone. In time she’d learn the terrain like the back of her hand, but now she managed to get to the porch of the workshop and fervently thanked Letty in her mind for ordering the special boots. Her feet had survived the vicious assaults just handed out and felt fine. Thank you Letty!

  Dinner was a strangely tasty meal of fried cornmeal mush. Emery had eaten cornmeal mush as a child without it being fried. Fried was MUCH tastier. Full and exhausted, she asked Kimi if she could help clean up and when told to head to bed, stumbled across the clearing with a kerosene lamp that Kimi had shown her how to use as her first lesson at Red Shirt.

  Setting the lamp down on the narrow bar, she fastened the door shut tightly and locked it with a worn peg through the old metal hasp. Shucking her boots off her feet, she unrolled and shook her sleeping bag, thanking the Goddess for it as the evening chill began to roll in. Once she’d struggled into the bag, zipped it closed and crammed her navy antler hat onto her rapidly cooling head, she curled up and was asleep in seconds.

  “She didn’t even make sure we were back,” Don Juan said indignantly.

  “She didn’t need to, you fool,” Deira snapped. “She could feel us nearby and unharmed. She’s exhausted. I am too. Go to sleep and quit complaining, you narcissistic ass.”

  Don Juan issued a perturbed, “Huuurupmmph!” Then did as the black spider said. He was too tired to argue. Plus, the sleeping bag was very warm. Both of them snuggled into Emery’s sleeping frame and, exhausted, slept deeply.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wind, Air, Fire, Flying

  The first few weeks in Red Shirt were exhausting as Kimi took her to a number of places and made her meditate on the feel of the wind and air. That was the problem with wind, if you struggled against it, it sapped your strength. One had to learn to embrace it in order to flow with it. Emery did not have that little trick down. The more she tried to capture the essence of wind, the more it beat her down.

  Each night she meditated on hardening her skin and inner structure. Somehow she had a bad feeling about the power of air to deal her a crushing blow and hurl her to the ground should she ever be fortunate enough to harness it. Best to be prepared!

  At the end of the first month, Kimi asked her what location she’d felt the most ‘at home’ in. Emery snorted. “None of them. It’s always a battle to stay rooted in place and not get blown away. The more I try to capture the essence of the wind, the more it feels like I’m fighting it. It’s been exhausting and frustrating,” she admitted wearily. “I am not getting the hang of this.”

  “What is your biggest fear about all of this
?” Kimi asked her suddenly, turning to face Emery with interest written on her face.

  “Getting blown away and never being able to get back,” Emery stated without hesitation. “If I give in to wind, it will never bring me back.”

  Kimi sat down suddenly, as though her knees had been cut from beneath her. “I am so sorry. I have been a poor teacher and wasted so much of your training time. I should have known this was your fear,” she said forcefully, slapping one hand to her forehead in dismay. “I am so sorry. You’re my first trainee and I guess we’re both learning something from this time.”

  The next week was a lesson in the air flow patterns of wind over the Badlands. Weirdly, wind was a many layered thing and could go one direction at one altitude and another direction at another. Weather played massive roles and clouds swirled and cast wind according to moisture and humidity.

  The next two weeks were an in-depth lesson in meteorology. Emery had always thought it boring, but with the practical lessons that Kimi took her through, she was beginning to see that the atmosphere was like a gigantic breathing being that had entire systems and properties that operated separately and together almost like a human body.

  Now Kimi had them retrace their steps and meditate and feel the rhythms of the different elements in the wind. Emery could begin to see how the layer of air closest to the ground could often move in one direction while the upper layer could move in another or be completely still. Wind didn’t just move in one direction, it had eddies and whorls that could be harnessed and used.

  How she was going to harness and use those flows was a whole other question. By the fourth of July, Emery had hard calluses on her seat bones from the rock-hard saddle and a dark tan from the sun. Her already blonde hair was bleached a bright platinum white with honeyed streaks underneath, though most days she braided it into a long tail to keep it from flying about in the breeze and distracting her from her meditations.

  Deira and Don Juan had made friends and were having a wonderful time. Deira in particular was working on an enormous mandala-like web in the ceiling rafters that Emery used at night to lull herself to sleep as her mind explored the intricate pattern and marveled at how bright moonlight and starlight could be as they glinted off the delicately spun threads of Deira’s efforts. It was beautiful.

  Don Juan was taking after his name sake and wooing many a female rodent in the other outbuildings. Twice she’d found him scurrying up her leg as he panicked and fled from other males intent on running him off their territory. This seemed only to entice him to find another way to steal their women. After all, stealth, manipulation and invisibility were his gifts. He could do this!

  Every day Emery would report her day’s progress to Deira and Don Juan and they would sympathize and be supportive. Don Juan had taken to telling stories of his adventures that involved wind, rain, or the elements, hoping this would trigger an idea that Emery could use.

  Deira mostly scoffed, as her stories always involved just hanging on for dear life with her hooked legs. She didn’t trust wind or the elements. Those things tried to kill her, drown her or tear her apart, usually.

  One night as the three of them lay drifting into sleep, Deira muttered in Emery’s ear, “You know, some spider hatchlings get eaten by their stronger siblings. In order to escape with their lives, they throw out a long line of silk and cast it to the wind. The wind rips them away from their murderous brethren and sends them far away into a new life.”

  When Emery woke the next morning, she had come up with an idea. After yet another breakfast of mush - food was limited in Red Shirt and most days the meals consisted of similar foods. Mush for breakfast, squash and acrid tasting antelope jerky for lunch, rabbit and prickly pear fruit for supper. It had taken Emery a while to get the hang of getting all the little spines off the prickly pear fruit and now, while detesting the sticky process of peeling them, enjoyed their sweet, tasty flavor.

  Approaching Kimi, Emery asked her hesitantly if they could go to a set of bluffs to the north. “Of course,” Kimi said, interest lighting her face. “Have you an affinity for that area?”

  “I believe so. I’d like to go as soon as possible,” Emery said, the urgency to apply her idea pushing her from the inside.

  It took them three hours to get to the bluffs that Emery envisioned in her mind. The sun was high now, so she had plenty of time to implement the idea. After taking a long swig of water, Emery settled into a deeply meditative state at the very edge of the bluff. A hundred feet below her, the plains stretched away into the distance. A steady breeze passed her brow from the north, and as she drifted deeper into her meditations on the feel of the wind, she began to sense the patterns of ebb and flow of the atmosphere around her.

  What Emery didn’t know was that hours passed as she hardened her inner structure, strengthened her skin, and then began to draw energy from the earth, coiling it into a ball at her core. Kimi watched her steadily, a slight smile edging her lips. As time passed, concern also rose in Kimi as Emery did not appear to be rousing from the trance she was in.

  Suddenly, the winds rose. Kimi could feel energy flicking like lightning from Emery’s body. Before she could even take a step forward, Emery Harlow’s body was flung forcibly from the edge of the bluff like a frisbee thrown into the air. The girl’s arms and legs spread limply out like the dangling limbs of a corpse.

  The girl’s body plunged towards the prairie below. Kimi screamed. Then, suddenly, as though a kite string had been jerked, Emery’s body canted up at an angle, her limbs embraced the winds, and she was floating aloft as though made of paper. Kimi Chatan sank to the ground, mouth hanging open in amazement. Slowly, she began to rock back and forth, chanting a prayer to the Goddess to embrace Emery in her arms and lead her safely back to Earth.

  As though hearing the prayer, Emery turned her face towards Kimi, smiled slightly and began to move her legs as though walking. In mid-air, Emery brought her hands together to grasp at an invisible line that ran out from her navel. In her mind, she’d grown an energy silk like the spider hatchlings from Deira’s story of the night before, casting the ball of energy she’d coiled in her power chakra the way a fly-fisherman casts a line.

  In her meditation, she’d grown the silk and then flung it into the passing winds hoping to use it as a means of harnessing the wind. It had worked better than she’d ever imagined. For hours she’d been hardening her skin to protect herself from the inevitable plunge to ground.

  Now, as she grasped the tether of energy, she began to rappel down the line, directing the cord of energy to anchor at the base of a huge pile of boulders near the bottom of the bluff and using her legs as though they were flippers in the wind to take her lower and lower towards the ground. So far, it was working well.

  Suddenly, as in all the instances in childhood when Emery had flown a kite, the winds cartwheeled in disobedience and sent her plummeting head-first into the hard mineral-packed dirt at the bottom of the canyon.

  When Emery came to, she was still alone. Lying prone, she looked up at the blue, blue South Dakota sky and smiled in pure joy. She’d walked on air. Holy crap! Emery Harlow had walked on air.

  The pounding of hooves coming at a gallop caused Emery to sit up in alarm. “You stupid, stupid girl!” Kimi screamed at her, her face a rictus of fear. “Are you hurt? Are you paralyzed? What possessed you to do such a dumbass thing?” The woman screamed at her, flinging herself from the saddle and grabbing Emery by the shoulders as she sat silently on the ground.

  “I’m fine,” Emery whispered. “I’m fine.”

  The two women stared at each other. “Get up and walk around. I want to see for myself that you’ve not got a thousand broken bones,” Kimi said angrily. “Go! Get up! Show me!”

  Emery creakily got to her feet. She was fine. “You know I’m a shield skin, right?” She asked Kimi, doubt in her voice about the woman’s knowledge.

  “Yes, I know it, girl!” The woman snapped at her. Then, sinking onto her back, she wheeze
d out, “I’ve just never seen it in action. Let alone someone walk on the damn air. When you cartwheeled, I was sure you’d broken your neck.”

  Emery laid back down and stared at the sky. “I used a method that my spirit animal Deira told me about. She’s a spider. I don’t believe you’ve met,” Emery said apologetically. “I don’t trust people much anymore, and have kept my spirit animals from you for my own safety. She told me about how baby spiders spin out a string of silk and it floats them away from the nest into a new life. I thought I’d give it a try with energy. As I was weaving the energy silk, I was also strengthening my skin and frame. I should have told you my idea. Though, I suspect you’d just have thought me a nutter,” Emery ended on a shaky laugh.

  Kimi sat up, stared at Emery for a few moments, then said, “I do think you’re a nutter.”