by Kim Murphy
Lee watched her whilst she nursed. He stroked Heather’s chubby cheek.
“I shall go to the home of the Sekakawon,” she said.
“There won’t be any trace in this time. I had never heard of them until I met my father.”
She had that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Another tribe that has been massacred?”
He gripped her hand. “You’re aware that only a few tribes have survived into the twenty-first century. I survived because of an anomaly, and now that I’ve left, there are no Paspahegh in your time.”
A slight breeze came betwixt them, signaling that their time together grew short. “Lee, I think the wind may be the key. E’ery time we speak, it interrupts us.”
“I know, but...”
And he was gone. Her breath caught in her throat, but she had no tears left to cry.
* * *
Phoebe had not visited the place where she had been struck by the car since the event itself. She recalled little, except for the blinding lights in the night sky, and the sidewalks swarming with people. Now in daylight, she could easily see a flower shop, a restaurant, a bank, and a jewelry store amongst others.
“Does anything look familiar?” Shae asked.
“Nay. E’en if I had arrived in the light of day, I wouldn’t have known what any of the shops were at the time.”
“It’s what I suspected, but I thought if you saw the place, it might trigger something the next time we use hypnosis. Why don’t we go over to the restaurant and have a bite to eat? I bet they have cheesecake.”
Phoebe couldn’t help but laugh. Her discovery of cheesecake had unlocked a dietary weakness, but as they stepped into the street to cross it, she halted, half expecting a car to strike her. She trembled. “Shae...”
“Are you remembering something?”
Follow the light.
Lights had been everywhere, and she had wondered which one she should follow.
Shae grasped Phoebe’s hand and led her across the street.
No car sped toward her, but she heard the piercing sound of a horn and the screeching of brakes. Recalling the pain, she closed her eyes. Soon my beloved, I will join you.
“Phoebe?”
She opened her eyes and discovered she was safely on the other side of the street.
“What just happened?” Shae asked.
“ ’Twas here that Lee called to me. I told him I would join him.”
“Let’s go inside and talk more.” After making themselves comfortable in a booth and ordering lunch, Shae continued, “Your memory of the event is strong. There’s no doubt in that respect. If you’d like, we can go to my office after lunch and see if hypnosis works this time to focus on what you’re seeking.”
“Aye, I’d like that.”
Shae sipped from her water glass. “What do you mean that you told him you would join him? You haven’t said anything about that before.”
“When I came to this century, Lee said that I should follow the light. There were so many I didn’t know which one. I stepped into the street. The car struck me. I thought I was dying and would join him in the afterlife. I’m uncertain whether I spoke the words aloud or merely thought them, but I said, ‘Soon, my beloved, I shall join you.’ ”
“I see.”
The waitress brought their sandwiches. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“A slice of cheesecake,” Shae said, pointing to Phoebe, “for my friend.”
“One cheesecake, coming up.”
Phoebe stared at Shae and giggled, then she became serious again. “I saw him this morning.”
“Lee?” Shae asked.
“Aye.”
Shae took a bite of her burger and swallowed. “I thought you said you haven’t been able to contact him.”
“I haven’t. He reached me.”
“I see. Did he say anything that may help?”
“He has traveled to the Sekakawon with his father and brothers.” Except for the intimate details, Phoebe relayed what had transpired during Lee’s visit.
“Can’t say that I’ve heard of the Sekakawon. Are you certain he can’t return to this time?”
“Nay, I’m not certain of anything. I only want my family to be together again.”
Shae reached across the table and patted Phoebe’s hand. “That’s understandable, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”
“Thank you, Shae. You’re a true friend.”
“We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”
“Aye.” Lee had introduced her to Shae. In turn, Shae had found her the transitional housing where she had met Meg. All had been instrumental in her adjustment to the twenty-first century.
* * *
After lunch, Phoebe settled in a chair in Shae’s office and closed her eyes. Shae coached her through the familiar breathing exercises, and her body relaxed. Again she was in the forest, running from the mob. Henry called after her. Her back stung from the whip’s lashes, and she feared what lay ahead, ’til hearing his voice.
“Wind Talker,” she said.
“Forward.”
Obeying his directive, she crossed the swift running stream but was lost. “Where, my love? Where am I to go?”
The raging shouts of the mob came from the opposite bank. Their torches formed bright flames.
“Walks Through Mist, follow my voice.”
His words continued upon the breeze, and she traveled through the forest. A thick mist surrounded her and swallowed her like a ship in a storm. The wind picked up, and she gripped the hound’s collar. The crow floated on the air currents ahead of her, and together they sailed on the wind. In this place time had no meaning. All periods existed side by side with no division betwixt them, and she relived her life experiences. As she passed through her own lifetime, other centuries formed afore her eyes.
Men dressed in tailored coats, with tricorn hats and powdered wigs. She had seen such pictures in history books and presumed the men were from the eighteenth century. Cannon roared, and women wore hoop skirts. Men charged over a hill, firing muskets. The Civil War—she had no doubt, but on the other side of the mound cars honked. These vehicles were boxy, like an open carriage, and the horns sounded more like airy rattles.
The mist faded. “Follow the light,” he whispered.
Up ahead, lights were everywhere. Confused, she was unable to determine which one to follow. She stepped out of the fog. The hound was no longer with her, and the crow and wind had vanished. The city bustled with people, and the lights blinded her.
Cars honked wildly. She moved into the street, and lights pursued her. Unlike afore, the car swerved to keep from striking her. Tires screeched. Like in slow motion, the car collided into another’s side. Metal crashed. Glass shattered and rained upon her. She was a silent observer, watching on. Shouts and screams from other witnesses surrounded her and ran toward the cars to help. From inside one of the cars, a baby cried.
Phoebe inched toward the vehicle with the wailing child. In the faint light, she spotted black hair, thrashing arms, and kicking legs. She blinked back the image to Shae sitting across from her. Yet, she couldn’t rid herself of the image of the baby. “I saw more,” she said, closing her eyes. “ ’Twas as if the centuries floated afore my eyes.”
“Good. We’ll focus on that next time. I think we’re getting closer, Phoebe.”
Unable to rid her mind of the accident, Phoebe reopened her eyes. “But there was something else.”
Shae waited for her to explain.
“Instead of the car striking me, it crashed into another. I’ve ne’er seen it afore.” The air crackled, and Phoebe broke into a cold sweat.
“Phoebe? What’s wrong?”
The baby. Heather! The accident had been real. Phoebe stood. “I must go to Heather.”
Shae gripped Phoebe’s arm to keep her from running blindly out of the room. “I thought you said that Meg was watching her.”
“She is.” Heather’s cries faded. Sh
e turned and Shae’s face came into focus. Fear registered upon her friend’s countenance.
“Phoebe, tell me what’s happening.”
“ ’Twas like the time when Lee was shot—only now the feeling is gone. If she had been injured or... killed, I would know.”
Shae handed her the phone. “Call Meg and make certain everything is all right.”
Her hands shook, but Phoebe dialed the number to home. The answering machine picked up, and Lee’s voice came across the line saying to leave a message. “Meg, if you’re there, please call me and let me know everyone is well.” She hung up and dialed Meg’s cell number. This time, she received voicemail. Phoebe repeated her message. She hung up the phone. “I don’t know where else to call. Meg doesn’t have a land line.”
“Are you certain there was an accident?”
“Nay, but something has happened. I felt it.”
“Could Heather have been traveling in a car with Meg?”
“Mayhap.”
Shae picked up the phone. “I’m calling Ed. He can tell us if there have been any accidents.”
Confused by Shae’s action, Phoebe said, “Detectives don’t handle accident reports, ’less foul play is suspected.”
“True, but they have access to the necessary computers. Ed...” Phoebe listened as Shae relayed her suspicion. “He’s checking. What does Meg drive, Phoebe?”
“A tan Hyundai. I know not the make nor year. ’Tis not a new car.”
Shae passed along the information. After what seemed like an eternity, she swallowed. “You’re sure? Okay, thanks, Ed.” She hung up the phone. “A black woman and two small children were taken to the hospital. One child was black, the other believed to be Hispanic.”
Phoebe sank to the chair.
“I’ll take you to the hospital.” Shae helped Phoebe to her feet and guided her to the door.
’Twas so much like the night that Lee had been shot—only this time, Russ wasn’t with them. Shae led her to the car and slammed the door behind her, then whisked them through the streets to the hospital. First Lee, and now Heather. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. How much more could a body endure? Of late she had been negligent in appeasing Oke’s wrath. When she got home, she would be sure to present an offering of tobacco.
Outside the hospital, Shae braked to a halt. “You go ahead, while I park the car.”
Numbly, Phoebe obeyed. The glass doors whooshed open. In the waiting room, the seats were filled with coughing and groaning people waiting to see a doctor. She approached the desk and inquired about Meg and the children.
“Are you related?” the desk receptionist asked.
“I’m Heather’s momma. Meg is my friend, and Tiffany is her daughter.” She showed her driver’s license to the receptionist.
“I’ll get someone to take you to your daughter.”
Shae joined her. “Any word?”
“They said someone will take me to her.”
A blonde-haired nurse in scrubs rounded the corridor and greeted them. “Mrs. Crowley, if the baby brought in is indeed your daughter, she’s fine.”
Phoebe gasped in relief. “And Meg and her daughter Tiffany?”
The nurse waved at her to slow down. “First, let’s make certain the baby is your daughter. We’ve checked her for a concussion, and she’s fine. Not a scratch or a bruise.” She motioned for Phoebe to follow her down the corridor.
Thankfully, Shae accompanied her. After being hit by the car, Phoebe had decided she hated hospitals. When Lee had been shot, her feeling had only intensified. The halls seemed filled of naught more than pain and suffering. Now, her daughter was housed here?
They entered a room with a curtain round two cribs. The nurse escorted her to the one in the farthest corner.
Gripping the slats, Heather squealed with excitement and danced on her toes. Phoebe swept the baby into her arms and checked her condition. As the nurse had said, she was fine. “How are Meg and Tiffany?”
“The young girl is fine, but the woman is in surgery.”
Phoebe had that sick feeling once more and hugged Heather tighter. “How bad is she?”
“We won’t know until she’s out of surgery. Does she have any next of kin that we can contact?”
“Nay, only her daughter Tiffany.”
“I see. Anyway, if you like, you can wait with your daughter here until we know about your friend.” She pointed to the chair aside the bed.
Phoebe thanked the nurse, and she left the room.
Shae squeezed Phoebe’s arm. “I can wait with you if you like.”
“That would be most welcome.”
After a more complete inspection of Heather’s body, Phoebe was convinced her daughter had suffered no physical harm. For the next few hours, she rocked, played, and nursed Heather. Round dinner time, Shae brought a tray. ’Twas nearly seven in the eve when the blonde-haired nurse returned.
“Mrs. Crowley, your friend is in the ICU. The doctor will speak to you and let you briefly see her if you like.”
Shae watched Heather whilst Phoebe checked on Tiffany, then the nurse escorted her to the doctor’s office.
“Mrs. Crowley, please have a seat,” the doctor said. He motioned to a chair. “I understand that your friend’s daughter is her only family.”
She sat in the chair that he had indicated. “Aye.”
“Your friend has three broken ribs and a lung contusion. We’re giving her fluids, and if necessary, we’ll use a ventilator to help her breathe. But, she’s also suffered a concussion and is unconscious. We’ve run a CT scan, didn’t find any serious brain injury, but will run an MRI to be on the safe side. Right now we remain hopeful that, with support and rest, she’ll regain consciousness and be fine.”
As a healer with some education in modern nursing, she comprehended what the doctor was saying. “May I see her?”
“Of course.”
The doctor escorted her down the corridor. Most hospitals looked the same—dull and lifeless. They entered a room, and the blue curtains separating the beds seemed familiar. She had been wrong to think she could be a nurse in this century. She was a cunning woman, who personally cared for the sick and injured, working round the clock, if necessary. Although familiar with the extended hours dedicated nurses put in, a cunning woman often couldn’t afford the luxury of a day off. Illnesses and accidents knew naught of holidays.
Tubes trailed from Meg’s body, and she looked more like a broken doll. Bruises and bandages covered her countenance. Phoebe approached the bed. “Meg...”
Not a lash fluttered to signal that Meg had heard her voice, and Phoebe grasped her friend’s hand. “Take as long as you need to heal. I shall tend to Tiffany.” Unlike Lee after his gunshot wound, Meg showed no signs of awareness.
* * *
19
Wind Talker
A week passed, then two. I tried to reach Phoebe through the dreaming without success. Unwilling to give up hope, I attempted again. As usual, the wind and Crow accompanied me, and a dragonfly flitted on the breeze beside us. When I emerged from the mist I entered a hospital room. An IV tube trailed from an unconscious woman’s forearm, while the rhythm of a ventilator and beep of a heart monitor sounded. With her back facing me, another woman bent over the prone form on the bed. “Dammit, don’t just lie there. Wake up!”
Her voice sounded familiar. “Meg?”
She turned toward me and blinked. “Lee? You can hear me?”
Fearing the person on the bed might be Phoebe, I stepped closer. It wasn’t Phoebe, but—Meg. “I can hear you.”
“Thank God.” She covered her face and sank to her knees.
“Meg, what’s happened?” I grasped her forearms and helped her regain her feet.
Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I was in a car accident. The girls were in the back seat. They’re fine, but me... I keep hearing people say that I have a concussion and I’m in a coma.” She lifted her arms and gazed at them as if they were alien body p
arts. “How can that be? I’m here, but yet...”
I thanked Ahone that Heather and Tiffany were fine and moved closer to the prostrate body on the bed. When I had served as a traffic cop, I had witnessed many such injuries firsthand. Some walked away. Others were left with severe disabilities, while an unfortunate few simply never woke up. “I’m sorry you went through that but, if you can, tell me what happened.”
“Phoebe had an appointment with Shae. I had taken the girls to the park and was driving back to your house. I stopped at a red light when I saw Elenor’s house in flames. Indians...” When I flinched, she fell silent.
“Go ahead, Meg. Tell me what you saw.”
“They surrounded the house and were attacking. You and Charging Bear were there—on opposite sides. I wanted to tell Phoebe, but her phone went to voicemail. The light turned green. All I could think of was getting back and telling Phoebe. I drove into the intersection—the next thing I recall, I was standing over myself, like just now, unable to tell anyone what happened—until you came along.” She placed a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “You’re not really here, are you? I’m dead.”
I glanced at the beeping heart monitor. “You’re not dead, but I’m not really here either.”
“The dreaming.” She calmed slightly. “Lee, is there any way that you can get through to Phoebe and warn her about what I saw?”
“I’ve been trying. For some reason, I’m unable to reach her.”
“She visits me every day. I try to warn her then, but for some reason, she doesn’t hear me.”
“She’s probably preoccupied with everything that’s happened. I’ll continue to try and reach her. In the meantime, I can warn Elenor.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “But you and Charging Bear. What if the two of you end up on opposing sides?”
“We won’t. We’re brothers. I’ll get word to Elenor.” For nearly a month I had been a guest at Black Owl’s hearth. While I rejoiced in getting to know my family, it was time for me to make the journey back to the homestead to make certain that all was well.
