by Kim Murphy
“And I you.” The breeze was at my back. I woke fully and she was gone. Wildcat slept several feet away from me on the barn floor, and William lay a few feet away yet again. I lowered my head, contemplating whether Phoebe had ever really been here.
April 18th kept going through my head. I blinked back the remaining traces of sleep. Phoebe had been here. That was the date of the attack. I stood. The pale light in the sky indicated that dawn was near.
Wildcat rose. “What’s wrong, brother?”
“I think the attack may be near.” I sprinted toward the house. Bess greeted me at the door as the family was stirring to life for the new day. She motioned for me to step inside. “I need to speak with Henry,” I said. “It’s a matter of urgency.”
In the hall, Henry overheard me and moved toward me.
“What’s the date?” I asked.
“Date?”
“I’m guessing that it’s April.”
“Aye.” He showed me the way to his desk where he kept his almanac. “ ’Tis the sixteenth.”
A new urgency hit me. “In two days’ time, the vision I told you about will become reality. Is that enough time for you to seek refuge in Jamestown?”
Henry swallowed. “What about you and Wildcat? You won’t be welcome.”
“Never mind us. Wildcat needs more time before he can travel, but if the rest of you are gone, the war parties shouldn’t bother us. We speak their language. Do you have enough time to get to Jamestown?”
“Aye, but the shallop won’t hold everyone.”
My heart sank. “Then there is no choice—take the women and children.”
Still in their night clothes, Christopher and Elenor joined us. I explained the situation as best as I could. “I’ll stay,” Christopher said.
Henry shook his head. “Nay, I shall stay behind. The shallop needs young men to guide the women and children to safety. I’m no longer young, and I can stay to protect the farm.”
I gripped Henry’s shoulder. “You’re aware of my vision. You’ll die if you stay.”
“But the others will live.”
“I’ll do my best—”
“Aye, I know.”
William stepped beside me. “I shall stay amongst those who have provided me sanctuary.” I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could respond, he continued, “If I go to Jamestown I’ll be recognized and returned to Master Pierce. My indenture will be extended. I’ll take my chances here. I’d rather die amongst friends than return to that gluttonous bastard who by law owns me.”
Until that moment, I hadn’t fully realized the level of William’s loyalty. The time had come to share the truth of who I was. I motioned for Christopher to move closer in order to tell both at the same time. They listened carefully as I relayed how I had arrived in the seventeenth century. When I finished, William cracked a wide grin. “You don’t believe me,” I said.
“On the contrary. For some reason you didn’t fit in with the Indians you travel with. Though you speak their language, ’tis not the same. Nor is your English like mine.”
I held out my hand, and William interlocked his index finger with mine. Turning from William, I glanced in Christopher’s direction. He nodded that he accepted my story. I looked to Elenor and understood why. She had already shared my time travels with him. “Now let’s get the women and children to safety,” I said.
* * *
Within a couple of hours, the shallop was loaded with a few supplies. Elenor hugged me goodbye. “Thank you,” she said. She turned to Henry and squeezed him even tighter. “Poppa, pray stay safe.”
Christopher, David, and James helped the women and children into the boat. Elenor wiped her face in a fruitless attempt to hide her tears. Bess hugged her before turning her attention to settle the children down. Squiggling and squirming in their seats, they viewed the trip as nothing more than a great adventure. The men gave the shallop a shove away from the bank before climbing in themselves. They grasped their paddles. Christopher glanced over his shoulder and sent a silent goodbye.
The rest of us stood on the bank, watching until the shallop faded from our sight.
“What do we do now?” Henry asked.
“Prepare and wait.”
Throughout the day and into the next, we gathered the firearms and ammunition together. I had three bullets left in the magazine of my Glock. After that, I would need to resort to Christopher’s musket. Wildcat was more comfortable using a bow, but we hoped our presence could divert the warriors elsewhere.
Near the end of the day, I made my way to the mass grave. At the sight of the bones, my throat constricted. How I wished I could give them a proper burial. If I had a forensic anthropologist’s help, I could separate the bones into individuals. Perhaps I might even find my mother. “I may be joining you soon,” I said aloud.
Then Black Owl would be the only Paspahegh left alive.
Ironic that I had survived the Paspahegh massacre only to be slain by my brothers.
“Speak to them.”
The voice sounded like it had come from behind me. I glanced in that direction and found no one standing there. Had it been real?
“Speak to them, Crow in the Woods.” The feminine voice whispered to me on the breeze.
A crow flew to a nearby tree limb and perched. The bird was a sign, and I finally comprehended what the spirit had been trying to tell me all along. “Mother, I hear you. I’m Wind Talker now. Who should I speak to?”
“The warriors—in your native tongue.”
That had been my plan before I had known that Henry and William would remain behind. Both knew some Algonquian—not fluently—but enough to get their basic ideas across. “Thank you, Mother. I will do as you ask.”
Night had fallen when I returned to the homestead. Tomorrow, we would be facing the warriors. If Wildcat and I had been among our own people we would have gone through a purification ceremony performed by the kwiocosuk to prepare for the upcoming attack. Yet I was relieved. With the women and children safely away, I took comfort in the fact that my vision had warned me in time to possibly change the outcome.
In silence, the four of us passed the pipe around. On this night, we would partner in turns, keeping watch while the other two slept. As usual, I thought of Phoebe. I would not attempt to contact her until the assault was over. My resolve of what I must do in the next day might weaken if I tried.
“I want to thank you,” William said, breaking the silence, “all of you. I have ne’er known people who care about my well-being afore. If it should come to...” He choked slightly, and I translated what he had said to Wildcat.
“It will be an honor to die with you,” Wildcat replied.
I was uncertain whether William truly comprehended the honor Wildcat had given him. “But I’m not like you,” he responded. “I’m... I’m afeared to die.”
Unlike the colonists, the Algonquian-speaking tribes were unafraid of facing death. “William, I am too. Over the years, I’ve simply learned how not to show it.”
A small smile appeared on William’s face, and Wildcat nodded in understanding. “I shall take the first watch,” William said.
“I shall be your...” Wildcat said in English. He stopped to think over his next word. “... partner.”
William’s smile widened to a grin, and Henry and I agreed to their offer. I got to my feet, but Henry remained deep in thought. “We should get some rest, Henry. Our watch will be here all too soon.”
“You’re right.” He stood across from me. “I can’t help thinking if your vision will come true on the morrow.”
“We’ve already altered part of it. We can change the rest.”
“Aye. I can ne’er thank you enough for allowing me the time to save Elenor, my son, and the children.”
“You already have. Now let’s get some sleep.” We went inside. Henry took the larger bed, while I lay on one of the children’s cots, but it wasn’t the tiny bed that kept me from sleeping. Thinking of the day before me,
I tossed and turned. Would the warriors come in the morning? The element of surprise had been their greatest weapon. Now, with Phoebe’s warning, the advantage was ours for the taking as long as we used it wisely.
Barely had I dozed off, when Wildcat called me. From the other bed, Henry rubbed sleep from his eyes. We moved to the front of the house and waited. Even nights spent on stakeouts could not have prepared me for the endless waiting.
Suddenly I grew homesick for the twenty-first century. Maybe I could return to the future and my family after the attack. How would I explain my absence to Ed and get my job back? I entertained thoughts of telling him the truth. After all that had happened, he would likely believe me. If not, Phoebe could find a way to verify what I said. But did I really want to return to my old job? In this century I had given up caffeine and alcohol. The only thing missing—I ached to hold, really hold, Phoebe and Heather.
“They could be out there already—poised for the attack.”
Henry’s comment brought me back to reality. “They could indeed,” I agreed.
With only a single candle to see by, we waited. After about an hour, I heard the soft tread of footsteps behind me. I raised my Glock and went to investigate.
In the dim, flickering light, I caught William standing over the pisspot and lowered my weapon. “Trepidation,” he said.
“We call it nerves where I come from.” I returned to my post beside Henry. “After Phoebe and I were married, we visited England. It took us about seven hours to fly there from Virginia.”
“Seven hours? Fly?”
“By airplane. It’s sort of ship that sails through the sky.”
His eyes widened. “Did they take you captive on this ship?”
I laughed slightly. “No, they’re a little more enlightened in the twenty-first century, but many people treated me as a bit of a novelty. Most thought Indians had died out or been killed off.”
“Do they die out?”
“Not by a long shot, but most were forced from their homes.”
“Like now? And that is why they’re retaliating.”
I nodded. “When this is over, Henry, I’d like to hear more about your sailing adventures.”
“I will share them,” he promised, “if you tell me more of this ship that sails through the sky.”
“That’s a deal.” We fell into another silence, and as the hours wore on, my eyelids grew heavy. What I wouldn’t give for a strong dose of caffeine. So much for being proud of having given it up.
As if detecting my weariness, Henry spoke about his captaining a boat that had crossed the ocean. His story almost made me feel the rocking motion of the ship, the wind ruffling through my hair, and breathing in the salt air. His descriptions made me realize how difficult life must have been surrounded by ocean water for months on end, before finally the welcome relief of seeing land when he seriously thought that he might not ever see it again.
Henry finished his tale and said, “You vowed to tell me about the ship that sails through the sky.”
“I said when this is over.”
“Wind Talker... Lee, if anything should happen—”
“Don’t say it.”
“You know it needs to be said. In your vision, several of us died. The others are safely away. Only I remain. She has already given me her goodbyes, and I merely want your assurance that you will care for her in the way she deserves.”
“You know I will, but that won’t be necessary.”
“Spare me. From your tales, I trust you comprehend the meaning of danger. I’m certain you also understand when one has a feeling of his own demise.”
All too well. “Henry—”
“There is naught more to be said.”
“But there is,” I insisted. “I despised you when I first met you through the dreaming. You saw my people as savages, and Phoebe—she was forced to marry you.”
In spite of the dim light, I saw him swallow. “I knew little about Indians upon my arrival, except for what had been told to me. I thought I was saving Phoebe from damnation. I could ne’er have conceived that ’twas the other way round. I trust you know that now.”
“I do, but I believe you already know that as well.”
“Aye,” he said with a slight laugh. “Who would have e’er believed that the two of us could be more alike than either might have reckoned? Now, pray tell me about the ship that sails through the air.”
All too happy to relay the story he longed to hear, I told him about airplanes. Toward morning, the eerie cry of a screech owl called from outside, and I became instantly alert. “Get the others, Henry. They’re here.”
The acrid scent of smoke assaulted my nostrils. Smoke drifted from the barn. Face them. Henry returned with Wildcat and William. “I’m going out there,” I said.
“They will test you...”
Wildcat left the rest of his sentence unsaid. If I failed, I would certainly die a lingering death. I quickly shoved that thought from my head. “If at all possible, I would like to prevent bloodshed on both sides.”
“Agreed.”
Glancing at each of them in turn, I handed my Glock to Wildcat. “Don’t fire on them unless I fail.” I took a deep breath and stepped outside. “I’m unarmed,” I shouted in Algonquian and held my hands out in plain sight. An arrow sailed my direction and hit the ground beside my foot. Unable to spot my assailant, I remained standing with my arms stretched out. “I’m unarmed,” I repeated.
From inside the barn came the frightened nickers of the horses and their stamping of restless hooves. The milk cow bellowed her fear as the smoke and flames spread. Two more arrows shot toward me, striking the ground around me. Unable to keep from moving, I struggled to maintain my stance. Loud unearthly sounding whoops surrounded me. Painted warriors carrying bows and arrows, clubs, and flintlocks rushed toward me. My breath quickened, but I held my ground.
The first warrior to reach me struck me on the left side with a club. I fell to the ground with staggering force. A crushing pain spread through my chest. Another warrior seized a clump of my hair, poising a knife to scalp me. I struggled for breath and stared at my attacker. “I’m Wind Talker... son of Black Owl and Snow Bird... brother to Charging Bear, Wildcat... and New Moon. I am Paspahegh.”
The warrior released his grip but kept his knife within striking distance. He spat on the ground. “Do you dare lie to us on sacred Paspahegh land?”
“Black Owl and I are still alive,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “as well as my wife’s daughter.”
“How do we know that you speak the truth?”
I started by telling him about the assault on the Paspahegh and my mother’s death, which annihilated most of the tribe. “Upon learning of the attack, Black Owl fought bravely against the colonists at Jamestown. Afterward, he sought refuge with the Sekakawon.”
The man’s gaze softened, but he seemed unconvinced. A mass of warriors gathered around me. All had their bodies and faces blackened, some with geometric designs. A few had white paint mixed with the black. With some difficulty, I rose to my feet. My side hurt like hell. Each breath was like a knife stabbing into me, but I couldn’t show any signs of weakness in front of these men.
A ghostly-looking warrior with his face and body painted completely in an ash white stepped in front of me. “You describe the attack on the Paspahegh with great accuracy. Yet if you were but two winters at the time, how do you recall the minute details?”
“Wind Talker speaks the truth.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charging Bear step forward and join me. Like most of the other warriors, he wore black war paint on his face and chest. “My brother is Paspahegh, and I am Charging Bear. I have been adopted by the Appamattuck.”
The ash white warrior nodded and motioned to the men around him. “We are the last Quiyoughcohannock. I have heard of Wind Talker. The elders say you have traveled through time and back again.”
Meg’s vision had shown Charging Bear as an ally, not an enemy. Feeling more confi
dent with his voice added to mine, I said, “I have.”
“Tell us.”
I thought of Henry’s wish to know about airplanes and described them. I continued with cars, TVs, computers, and high-rises. The men’s aggressive stance changed to fascination. “May we rescue the animals from the barn now?” I asked.
They said yes.
I placed a hand to my aching chest and waved with my free one for the others inside the house to join me. Soon Wildcat was by my side. He handed my Glock to me, and we headed in the direction of the barn. “You did well, brother.”
When I opened the barn door, smoke poured out, instantly blinding me. I raised my arm to protect my face and stepped inside. Ghostly figures were beside me, and I could no longer identify who any of them were. Staggering through the smoke, I sputtered and gagged. Finally, I reached one of the horses.
The mare danced nervously and landed a shod hoof directly on my foot. I muttered a stream of curses in both Algonquian and English but managed to loosen the taut rope. She was free, and I led her toward the door.
Another horse had broken free and raced half-crazed past us. The cow bawled behind me. I handed the mare’s line to someone else and returned for her. With a nervous mooing, the cow snorted. I barely had the line free when intense heat engulfed me. A blazing beam struck me squarely in the back. Gasping for breath, I dropped to my hands and knees.
My vision. Circumstances had changed, but it was coming to pass nonetheless. Refusing to surrender, I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. I struggled to my feet.
Someone gripped my left arm and tugged. Charging Bear led me to the door. Outside in the cool morning, I could breathe again.
Behind me, a scream pierced the air. Henry! I moved toward his panic-stricken shrieks, but many hands held me firmly in place. As the wails from inside the barn gradually died down, I smelled a musky odor. I had been a cop long enough to recognize the scent of roasting human flesh.
As the wind fanned the flames, I could hear a voice speaking in it.
’Twas my time, Wind Talker. There was naught you could have done to change what was meant to be, but you have saved the others. Tell them not to grieve for me.
