Holdin' On for a Hero

by Ciana Stone

  “Wolves mate in early winter,” he said. “And give birth in late winter or early spring. It’s still a little early for pups this age.”

  “Well, maybe his mom and dad couldn’t wait,” she chuckled as the pup licked her face enthusiastically. “I think it’s hungry. We have to find something to feed it with.”

  “Chance, it won’t live,” he said, reaching out to stroke the pup’s soft fur.

  “Yes, it will!” Her eyes blazed as she looked at him. “I won’t let it die. Now, we have to find some milk and a doll’s bottle or something so we can feed it.”

  Wyatt stared at her a moment then gave in. “Okay, fine. We’ll go see what we can find.” They got back in the Jeep. Chance cuddled the pup in her arms, talking to it and stroking it. Wyatt found a store at the edge of town and stopped. He went in and when he returned he handed her a paper bag. Inside was a plastic doll with a little bottle attached to it by a rubber band. There was also a container of milk.

  She set the milk down in the floorboard and turned the heat up to warm it. “Thank you,” she said gratefully as Wyatt started the Jeep and pulled back out onto the road.

  He nodded without comment and they rode in silence. After twenty minutes Chance opened the milk and stuck her finger in it. “It’s still too cold.”

  “We’ll warm it up when we get there.”

  They traveled a few more miles and turned off the road onto what could best be described a path. After a couple of miles the path ended. Wyatt turned off the Jeep and got out. As he started unloading their gear, she put the pup inside her coat and stuffed the doll bottle and milk in her backpack. After throwing the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she followed Wyatt into the woods.

  They walked about a half mile and came to what looked like two intersecting trails. Wyatt turned left and the trail grew steeper. They climbed for at least another mile and Chance began to hear the sound of water.

  “Is that the falls?”

  “Right through there about a hundred yards.” He pointed to one side. “We’re going to cut across at the base.”

  She didn’t say anything more as she followed him. They emerged at the base of the falls and she looked up. Layers, or shelves of horizontal rocks, worked their way up the falls. Water cascaded down the middle of the rock with a smaller stream to the left. The top appeared to be smaller, maybe twenty-five feet or so, but it widened as it descended. The base was at least forty feet. A log at the base of the fall acted as a dam. A small pool rippled at the base and a stream led from the pool to disappear in the forest.

  Chance looked at the water and the immersed log then at her boots. They weren’t exactly made for walking in ice-cold water.

  “We’re going to cross here?” she asked, shifting her backpack on her shoulder.

  “Unless you want to climb up and find another way.”

  She grimaced but said nothing, cautiously stepping from the soft soil to the log as Wyatt started across like he was walking on pavement. She made it to the middle of the expanse without incident. Her legs and feet were soaked and felt like chunks of ice. The pup worked its way up to the neck of her coat and started trying to squirm out. She tried to get a hold of it and lost her balance. One moment she was on the log and the next she was chest deep in freezing water, holding the pup above her head.

  Wyatt dropped the gear he was carrying and waded out into the pool to help her. They made it to the bank and she put the pup back inside her coat as her teeth clattered and she shook with cold.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get you dry.” Wyatt grabbed her wet pack.

  Chance thought she was going to freeze to death by the time Wyatt stopped. She looked around him and saw what looked like a hollow in the side of the hill. In front of the opening stood an old man. With long, flowing white hair and a face lined and weathered by time, he looked as old as the mountains themselves. Except for his eyes—they seemed ageless.

  He nodded to Wyatt as Wyatt took her arm and led her forward. “Tsa’li Eaglefoot, this is Chance Davenport. Chance, Tsa’li.”

  “Ni-ni-nice to me-meet you,” she chattered.

  “Come, I have a fire.” He gestured toward the cave.

  Chance followed Wyatt inside. Sure enough, a fire burned brightly in the center of the surprisingly large cave. She wondered why the interior wasn’t full of smoke from the fire and asked Wyatt. He pointed up and she saw a small opening in the rock ceiling. The fissure acted as a chimney.

  “Let’s get you out of those clothes.” Wyatt dumped the gear and unzipped her coat.

  Chance held on to the pup as Wyatt took off her wet boots and socks. When he reached to unfasten her jeans, she backed up a step. “You’ll freeze if you don’t get out of them.”

  Knowing he was right did nothing to ease her uneasiness. “Okay, you hold the baby. I can do it.”

  She handed him the pup. “What am I supposed to wear? All my clothes were in the backpack and it’s soaked.”

  He took off his coat and flannel shirt and held out the shirt to her. She motioned for him to turn around. As he did she quickly took off her wet clothes and put the shirt on. It hung almost to her knees and the sleeves were about ten inches too long. But at least it was dry.

  Wyatt handed her the pup and she picked up the wet backpack. She dug out the doll bottle out and the plastic carton of milk, filled the bottle and knelt down, holding it over the coals and stroking the pup as she warmed the milk.

  Wyatt spread one of the sleeping bags beside the fire for her. She smiled her thanks then turned her attention to the pup.

  He pulled on his coat and walked outside to where Tsa’li Eaglefoot stood. “This is the one.” Tsa’li nodded his head thoughtfully. “She has the eyes of a wolf.”

  Wyatt nodded and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Can you help her remember?”

  “A better question is, have you remembered?” Tsa’li asked.

  Wyatt looked at the old man somberly. “Some. But I’m not sure I understand it.”

  “Then perhaps she can help trigger your memories. But it will require time. Does she understand?”

  “No.”

  “Then we will explain.” Tsa’li turned to enter the cave.

  Wyatt followed him inside and they found Chance feeding the pup. “Look, he likes it!” She smiled then looked anxiously at the pup. “He will live, Wyatt. He has to.”

  Wyatt didn’t reply, but spread his sleeping bag next to hers and sat down. He took off his coat, laid it aside and stared into the flames.

  Tsa’li squatted down in front of Chance. “Do you know why you are here?”

  “Because Wyatt asked me to come.”

  Tsa’li looked at Wyatt then back at her. “I have been asked to help you remember things from the past, things you have pushed from your mind. Are you willing?”

  “I guess so,” she replied nervously. “What do I have to do?”

  “First you must fast and pray. You will stay here and you will drink only water for twenty-four hours. You will not sleep or eat. There should be no words spoken and you must pray for your heart and mind to be freed from all evil. When that has been done we will begin.”

  Chance thought about it for a few seconds. “Are you and Wyatt going to stay with me?”

  “Wyatt will stay. I will return when it is time.”

  She looked over at Wyatt then nodded. “Okay.”

  Tsa’li stood and motioned to Wyatt to follow him. “She cannot eat or sleep,” he said as they walked outside. “And you should not speak with her.”

  “I understand.”

  “And she is not to be touched,” Tsa’li added. “Not in the way a man touches a woman.”

  “There’s no danger of that,” Wyatt assured him.

  “I will return when it is time,” Tsa’li said and walked away.

  Wyatt watched him disappear down the hill then turned and entered the cave. Chance looked up at him as he walked in. “So what do we do for the next twenty-four hours?”

>   “Nothing.” His reply was more of a bark.

  “Nothing? We just sit here?”

  “That’s right.” He moved his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the fire and sat down to stare into the flames.

  Chance made a face then looked down at the wolf pup. It was going to be a very long twenty-four hours.

  * * * * *

  Chance was beginning to get irritable from lack of sleep and the gnawing hunger in her stomach. To make things worse, Wyatt had refused to speak to her since Tsa’li left the cave twenty-three hours ago. She had never imagined that a day could be so long, but she was finding out that it could seem like an eternity. She had spent most of her time thinking about Wyatt, and wondering what he hoped to accomplish by having her there. She had no idea what was supposed to happen once Tsa’li returned, other than what little she had been told—that Tsa’li would help her remember things she had forgotten.

  Chance was not sure she believed what Wyatt had said. If she had undergone an abortion she was sure she would remember it. Especially if she had been pregnant with his child. The thought of being pregnant with Wyatt’s baby was something she had never even dared to dream. Considering the possibility made her yearn for something she was sure she would never have.

  She stole a glance at Wyatt, who sat immobile, staring into the fire. She wondered if she would be the same with him she was with other men. Would she be as cold and incapable of feeling, or would she experience what she had the first time with him?

  Chance pushed the thoughts from her mind. The way things stood right now, she would be lucky to get a cordial handshake goodbye when she left. She had no doubt that once this thing with Tsa’li was over, Wyatt would turn his back on her, and she would have to give up and leave. There would be no point in staying.

  The wolf pup whimpered, drawing her attention. Pouring the last of the milk into the plastic doll’s bottle, she began to feed it.

  Wyatt cut his eyes over at Chance as she administered to the needs of the pup. He had watched her covertly the past twenty-four hours and many questions had risen in his mind. She had seemed genuinely surprised when he mentioned the abortion. Just as she seemed to be telling the truth when she said that she had never come to the mountains when she was eight years old. If she had blocked the memory of what happened to them on Clingman’s Dome from her mind then it was within the realm of possibility that she had also blocked all memory of the pregnancy and abortion from her mind as well.

  Part of him balked at the notion of giving her the benefit of the doubt, the part of him that was locked behind the walls he had built around his emotions to protect himself from the pain. But another part, the part that still harbored deep feelings for her, hoped that she was being honest. What that would change, he could not see. Things were as they were between them. If she had ever really cared about him, then she sure had not shown it. Since the day he left after her graduation until now, she hadn’t tried to contact him. That didn’t seem like someone who cared.

  At a noise at the entrance of the cave, Wyatt saw her look up. Their eyes met briefly before he stood. Tsa’li entered and nodded to him. Chance looked at Tsa’li with an anxious expression on her face.

  Tsa’li took a seat in front of the fire and motioned for Wyatt to move his things aside. Wyatt gathered his sleeping bag, spread it beside Chance and sat down, watching as Tsa’li laid the canvas bag he carried on the ground in front of him, and looked at Chance.

  “Did you sleep?”

  “No.”

  “No food?”

  “No.”

  Tsa’li nodded in approval. “How do you feel?”

  “Sleepy and hungry and a little afraid,” she admitted.

  “That will pass,” he replied and picked up the canvas bag to take a tin cup from it. From a leather bag slung across his body he took a smaller pouch and sprinkled some dry brown powder into the cup. Then he poured water from an old canteen and gently rotated the cup around.

  Chance looked up at him as the pup moved its mouth away from the bottle and closed its eyes. “What’s that?” She indicated the cup.

  Tsa’li moved to squat beside her. “I am what you whites call a medicine man. I learned from my father, who learned from his father, who learned from his father. The history and wisdom of the People has been passed through the generations to me. Wyatt has asked for my help. There are things in your past that you have buried. I will help you bring them once more into the light, if you are willing.”

  Chance looked from him to Wyatt. His dark eyes met hers and he nodded his head slowly. She swallowed nervously and laid the pup down beside her. “Okay.” She looked at Tsa’li. “What do I do?”

  “Drink only half of this.” He handed her the cup.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Something that will help you breach the barriers of time. Do not fear. No harm will come to you. However, the choice is yours. Trust in me and remember or do not and remain as you are, an outcast to your own past.”

  Chance looked up at him for a moment, studying his face and eyes then took the cup and turned it up to her lips before she had time to back out. The liquid was bitter and made her want to gag but she choked back the nausea and drank half the contents. Tsa’li nodded to her then took the cup and handed it to Wyatt. “You must join her in the journey.”

  Wyatt didn’t argue. He swallowed the rest of the contents,he then returned the cup to Tsa’li who sat down across the fire from Chance once more. There was silence in the cave. Tsa’li and Wyatt were watching Chance and she was focused on the wolf pup.

  After several minutes Tsa’li removed a large, multifaceted crystal from his pouch. Firelight danced on its surface, reflecting the light while at the same time seeming to absorb it into its center so that it glowed with a strange energy. He held it between both hands and began a low chant, rhythmic and slow. His words were too low to be understood at first, but they gradually increased in volume. His eyes were riveted on Chance.

  Wyatt saw her eyes begin to look heavy, as if she were tired or sleepy. Her posture sagged slightly and an expression came over her face as if she were dazed. He looked at Tsa’li and saw the old man watching Chance closely as well. Tsa’li turned to meet his gaze and nodded. “It is time.”

  His attention turned once more to Chance and he spoke in the tongue of his people. “Look at Wyatt, Chance Davenport.”

  Wyatt was surprised when she turned and looked into his eyes. He didn’t know how she had understood Tsa’li’s words, but he had accepted long ago that there were many things he didn’t understand so he didn’t waste energy thinking more about it. Sitting very still, he looked into Chance’s golden eyes, seeing the pupils grow larger with each passing moment until the black almost eclipsed the gold.

  He had no way of knowing that Chance was completely lost in the darkness of his own eyes. If he could have seen himself though her eyes he would have known that at that moment his eyes seemed blacker than the darkest night and the reflection from the dancing flames was growing steadily in their depths.

  Tsa’li’s voice seemed to come from inside Wyatt’s mind. He knew that Chance could also hear the words.

  “Let go of this time and place. Put yourself in the hands of the spirits and ride the wind of time. Go back, Chance Davenport. Join with Wyatt and travel back, back to a time long ago, to the time you first came with him to the mountains of the People.”

  Wyatt’s throat tightened. He could feel what Chance felt. He experienced the dizzying feeling that took hold of her. He could feel her thoughts, knowing that as she looked into his eyes, she saw some inner fire burning within them and she was drawn deeper into their depths. Suddenly she was sucked inside the darkness. Tumbling and spiraling she fell through the endless blackness. Wyatt mentally reached for her, wrapping his essence around her as they plunged into the void.

  Abruptly the descent ceased. Wyatt shook his head as she blinked her eyes. “I can’t see.” Her voice sounded afraid. “Where am I?”
>
  “On Clingman’s Dome,” Wyatt answered softly as he looked around in astonishment at the old memory that suddenly came to life before him. “Don’t you remember?”

  She cried out in surprise. “Yes! I’m eight years old.” Her voice was that of a child. “I can see you, Wyatt. You’re almost thirteen. You’re so big and strong and handsome. All the girls at school like you. They tell me. That’s why they’re nice to me, you know. They want me to ask them over so they can see you. I know they don’t really like me. It’s you they want. I don’t want them to hate me but I don’t like asking them over. I don’t want them to have you.”

  “Do you remember coming here to Clingman’s Dome?”

  “That’s not its name, silly. That’s what the whites call it. This is the place of the enchanted lake.”

  “Yes,” he agreed softly. “Then you remember coming here?”

  “Oh, yes!” she nodded excitedly. “We rode on a motorcycle and you drove very fast. It was fun.”

  “Tell me about that day.”

  Chance drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. “How come boy birds don’t have to be taught to be daddies but girl birds have to be taught how to be mommy birds? Girls aren’t so dumb.”

  Wyatt didn’t know what to say. Then he realized that while he was seeing the event through the eyes of an adult, Chance seemed to be reliving it as if she really were eight years old again. “What do I do?” he asked, knowing that somehow Tsa’li was watching over them.

  Tsa’li’s voice was low. “She is now one with the past. She must tell in her own way. You are seeing through the eyes of a man. She lives the time though the eyes of the child she was. You are with her as protector and guide.”

  Wyatt nodded and looked at Chance who was staring up above her. “I know boys and girls are different,” she said, turning to look at him. “Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.”

  There was a few moment of silence. Chance’s expression changed from indignant to angry to dazed. Wyatt watched her closely. He could feel the emotions racing through her and knew that she was reliving that day, seeing and feeling everything as if it were real.