by Calinda B
Then he thought of what James had said” “you’re going to look it in the eyes and deal with it.” Feeling boldly inspired, he stopped the car on the side of the road. The heat wave stopped. He looked over in its direction and dared it to come and get him. The shape complied by leaping onto the hood of the car. All Cam saw was a shimmering shape coming at him and then a loud metallic thud. He felt his skin blanch, his body jerk, and saw the cigarette flying to the floor. He leaned forward and observed dents in the roof where the beast apparently stood. The dents moved as if the beast was shifting back and forth on its front paws. A feeling of dread and alarm crept up his arms and neck.
The front window began to fog rhythmically as if the dreamling had leaned forward and was breathing on the glass. Shit. Next, he heard low growls and snarling sounds. Fuck. What the fuck was he going to do? Now he heard machine gun rapid click, click, clicks against the glass the same way he’d heard Severe scratching against the patio door to get Mano’s attention so she could come inside. That was hopeful, he thought. If the beast had the ability to reach through a door, it could no doubt reach through glass and it was acting as if the window was solid right now. Cam fired up the ignition. The clicking stopped and the dents shifted like the star dreamling was moving side to side again, trying to steady itself.
He eased the car out onto the highway. When he did this, it seemed like the beast had lurched by the pattern of dents on the hood. Cam pressed on the gas, and by God, it seemed like the apparition fell off the hood. Fucker might be pissed now. Not good. Cam floored it and watched the shimmery shape follow along on the side of the road. It seemed to leap at the driver window in powerful lunges, over and over and over again. The car veered off the road when the weight of the beast smacked the window. The fucking thing was trying to break through the glass.
Cam’s heart was hammering in his chest now with a ratta-tat-tat. It took everything to keep control of the car. He gripped the steering wheel as the wham, wham, wham of energy slammed against the metal of the door. He’d just get the car righted and then wham – he’d be pushed off the road, tires squealing, and rubber burning. Completely unglued, he called out to the sky, to the mountains, to anything he could think of for guidance. He appealed to these so-called Grandmothers. Then he thought of Chérie. He imagined what it would be like if this apparition up and killed him, right here, right now and life with her just ended. This life with her, this connection that he had just begun to explore again – poof – gone… His eyes moistened, and his heart ached at the thought. And then, abruptly the shimmer just up and disappeared. Just…vaporized…
Cam pulled off the road again. No phantasm in the foreground…nothing in the background…only the wind blowing through the trees in a gentle breeze. Cam let out his breath and reached a shaky hand towards the cig on the floor. He put it between his lips. This time he had every intention of lighting it up. He groped around in the glove box, looking for the lighter. Shit. It wasn’t there. He dug around in his shirt pocket next. When he pulled the lighter out, the cat’s eye orb fell out and rolled onto the seat next to his clawed thigh. He flicked the lighter and held the flame up to the cigarette. Before he torched the tobacco, the cat’s eye caught his attention. It seemed luminescent somehow. It looked different. Releasing the lighter wheel he reached down and picked it up. It seemed to pulse slightly in his hand. Curling his fingers around it, he felt all the warmth and feeling Chérie had put into it last night when she held it to his heart. He began to calm down…felt his body start to unwind…felt his heart start to surge with passion for her. Okay…this was good. This was way good. He dropped the orb back into his shirt pocket and patted it. He released the cig from his lips, rolled the window down a crack and flicked it out onto the road. Feeling renewed, he pulled back onto the highway and drove the rest of the way to the sweat lodge site. The star dreamling did not appear the entire way up the mountain. One challenge down, who knew how many left? He decided to savor the moment and give thanks…for Chérie being back in his life.
Chapter 17 – Cam
Following the instructions towards Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic Mountains, Cam had turned up a narrow dirt road a few miles back. The road pierced the dense forest like an intruder. Or maybe it was him that was the intruder, Cam thought. The road must have not been used much because there were potholes everywhere. The Land Rover lurched and bucked along the rugged path. He hadn’t encountered the dreamling since that last go around. It had given him time to think about what lay head. Just think of this as an adventure, he thought. He lived for new adventures. Somehow the prospect of what he was about to participate in did not meet his description of adventure. It felt more like an ordeal. “Well, let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. Finally, he came to the place that Mano had described. There were a few cars parked here and there. He pulled up behind a battered red pickup truck and got out. Hearing voices up ahead, he followed the sound until he’d reached a small group of men standing in a small clearing. The space reminded Cam of the place where he and Chérie had engaged just a couple days ago. A rush of sensation assaulted Cam as he thought of it. He swallowed as the memory of being inside Chérie flooded his brain. But then he remembered the star dreamling bursting into that scene and he quickly brought his attention back to where he was.
Mano looked up from the group when Cam arrived. “Hey, brother, over here…”
Cam looked around as he walked over to where Mano stood. An old man, probably around 60, stood next to Mano. The guy was a dwarf next to Mano’s largesse, but he sure held his own. Around 5’11,” he wore a faded brown t-shirt with a picture of the old band Kiss on the back, jeans, and worn leather work boots. His arms were wiry and muscular. His short brown hair was combed back from his nut brown face. There was nothing remarkable about the guy until you looked at his eyes…or until he looked at you, more like it. The man turned his gaze over at Cam. The dark brown eyes regarded him with a mixture of kindness and brutal contemplation, like he was assessing Cam’s soul. Cam felt utterly beheld by this guy’s gaze.
“Cam, meet Charley Wolf-Rider. Charley will be your elder guide in preparing the sacred fire.”
Cam extended his hand. The man grasped his hand firmly, turned his eyes towards Cam’s chest, gave one shake of the hand and released it.
Charley looked back up at Cam’s face. “Welcome, Cameron. Mano has told us of the creature who stalks you.”
“Uh, yeah,” Cam replied.
“It is our intention to discover what this being wants with you.”
Cam plastered what he hoped passed for a smile on his face, but said nothing.
“Better yet, it is our intention that you should discover what this being wants with you, and we shall hold the space.”
“Thank you,” Cam said. It was all he could think of to say. He felt completely awkward here. “Uh, I’m honored,” he added.
Charley gave an easy laugh. “Let’s get to the here and now…to the practicality of the day. I know this is new for you. There’s work to be done. Our brothers are preparing the space.” He gestured over to where a group of men was working to shape pliable willow branches into a small hut-like dome. “Let’s you and me see to the Stone People.”
Hearing the phrase “here and now” made Cam relax… Those were words he could relate to. “What do we do?”
“We look for them. We gather them.”
“Okay…” Cam said dubiously. “Where do we find them?”
“Wherever they want to be found,” Charley said enigmatically. “Follow me.”
Cam followed along behind Charley as the guy made his way briskly through the woods. He moved with the grace of a buck, picking his way through the dense brush. Cam, well-versed in the outdoors, actually found it hard to keep up with the guy. At last, they reached a small clearing. A small creek wound its way through ferns and shrubs. Glancing at the rocks in the creek bed, Cam asked, “How about these?”
“Nooooooo,” Charley replied emphatically. “W
et rocks, intense heat, kaBOOM. You don’t want to burn the jewels while you sit in the lodge, do you?” The man cupped his balls. “I like to keep mine safe and sacred. I’ve got better things to do with them…seeds to sow…”
Cam laughed. “Good point.”
“No, instead we look away from the water. Look for igneous rocks like dense basaltic rocks. Pay attention and listen. The Wakan Tanka have created the rocks for our use. The Stone People like to serve. They will call to you if you listen.”
Cam didn’t ask what the Wakan Tanka was, but figured it was some spiritual term like God. He and Charley walked along in silence for a few. Cam did his best to “listen.” Charley picked up a few rocks the size of a child’s head. Uncertain of what to do, Cam looked this way and that. He glanced over at a rock that seemed to be staring at him. Jesus, I must be fucking nuts, he thought. “Uh, how about this one?”
“Ah, that one is calling to you, Cam. Pick him up with care.”
Cam picked up the rock and hefted it in his palm. The stone felt good in his hand. Tucking that one in the crook of his arm, he found a few more.
“Let’s take these back and return for more,” called Charley.
They made a couple more journeys to the woods and back, until Charley told him they had enough stones. When they returned to the clearing, Cam noticed that the sweat lodge was now being covered with blankets and quilts. The men building the lodge were talking quietly, laughing, but Cam noticed a reverence in their actions. They moved with awareness and consciousness. It was like a river run or climbing a wall. You couldn’t space out. You had to be completely present for the task at hand. He paused a moment, taking in the scene.
“What do you see, Cam?” Charley asked him.
“Oh, I was just observing that the men are pretty present when they are placing the blankets.”
“Yes, everything about the sweat lodge is sacred. We keep our attention mindful. You and I will do the same thing. Here, help me stack the wood for the fire.” Charley walked over to the sweat lodge then paced eight steps to the east. “Here…” He pointed to the ground.
Cam picked up a split log and tossed it towards the place that Charley indicated.
“No. Pick it up and try again. This time with intention.”
Charley’s words came out soft, but the intensity behind them was clear. Cam felt a sting of embarrassment. “Sorry, man,” he said under his breath. He picked the chunk of wood up and then carefully placed it down again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charley give a nod. “Uh, any particular way to build this?”
“Like this…” Charley deftly stacked small pieces of tinder in the center. “Now, Cam, let’s add more wood, offering up prayers with each log.”
Cam picked up log after log, and placed them carefully on the fire until they were arranged in a pyramid shape around the tinder.
“Come, Cam. Watch this.”
Cam crouched down next to Charley. Charley lit a match and put it next to the straw and kindling. The tiny flames slithered up the dry straw, catching the twigs and kindling. “Now we say a prayer to the Spirit of Fire and offer our thanks for their willingness to be with us today.”
“I, uh, I don’t know what to say,” Cam admitted.
“Just say what’s in your heart, Cam. You don’t have to say it out loud.” Charley lifted up his hands and began speaking in a low voice, offering up a prayer.
Feeling uncomfortable and out of his element, Cam looked towards the beautiful sky and thought Thank you, whoever you are. Sorry, best I can do…he added as an afterthought.
After a time, they had built a roaring blaze. Since he wasn’t comfortable with the whole prayer bit, he just kept his thoughts on the beauty of the land and added abundant thanks for Chérie. He remained mindful throughout the process.
As the fire blazed, sweat lodge participants began to arrive. They milled about, some talking, some silent.
“Is this always done with only men?” Cam inquired of Charley.
“Not always. The next three nights will be, though.” He said nothing more.
“What do we do next here?” Cam asked.
“We wait until the fire burns down to glowing coals. Then we place the rocks. The rocks have to heat to red hot.”
It was a simple task, actually. He and Charley stood about watching the fire. Occasionally, Charley would stir the fire with a metal poker or indicate that Cam should add more wood to the blaze. When the fire had burned down to embers, he and Charley brought the rocks over and placed them within the red coals. The stones seemed to sing and ripple as the fire shot through them and little heat sounds emerged. As the process continued, Cam found himself growing quiet inside. All the fear that the star dreamling represented, all the joy of being with Chérie again…it all evaporated in the here and now. There was just the fire, the rocks, the lodge, and the men in the midst of all this natural beauty. To him, it was prayer enough. At last it was time for the sweat to begin.
An older wizened man completely nude, entered the lodge by pulling away a flap of blanket that faced the fire. As he entered, he called out “Mitakuye Oyasin” in a strong voice. He disappeared into the lodge. A few moments later, Cam smelled sweet smoke, like the sage that Mano burned. Then the phrase “Mitakuye Oyasin” was heard again, the flap opened, and the other men entered one by one, each one naked. Each called the same phrase as they entered the space.
Cam looked over and saw Mano’s naked form approach the dome. Jesus, the guy’s a fucking tree, Cam thought. The big guy crouched and eased his immense form through the tiny opening.
As the last man crawled in, Charley gestured to Cam. “Here, Cam. Take this branch and brush off the rock that I lift onto this pitchfork. I will carry it into the lodge and place it in the center. Watch what I do.”
Cam picked up the pine branch and brushed at the rock glowing on the pitchfork. “Like this?” Charley nodded. Cam felt dumb, but tried not to let it show. He couldn’t help but feel like a Boy Scout at a camp outing. He watched Charley carry the stone with mindfulness and awareness and walk towards the lodge.
Charley extended the pitchfork through the doorway and placed the rock into the pit. Then he walked back for another stone. For the last piece of basalt, he extended the pitchfork to Cam. “Now you…”
Cam picked up the glowing form and noticed it was the first one he had found. He looked at the rock and swore it was winking at him. He carried it to the pit, placed it in the center, and walked back to where Charley stood. The blanket flap closed as night descended.
The night was surreal. First, the smell of tobacco wafted out of the lodge. Then, Cam heard a hiss like water being poured into the rocks. Next, Cam heard a cacophony of sound from inside the blanket covered lodge. He could make out shouts, singing, and cries. At intervals, the blanket flap would be opened, and the noise would cease. A couple of times men crawled out of the lodge during the intervals, panting and worn. “What the fuck is going on in there?” Cam wondered. After several minutes, the men crawled back in. Charley would pick up stones, Cam would brush them off, and the stones would be placed inside the lodge. Then the opening was secured and the process began again.
After the fourth interval, the flap was pushed open, and all the men started crawling out of the opening. Some looked deeply fatigued. A few were weeping. Some lay on their backs in the cool dirt. All Cam knew was that he felt very, very quiet inside. He didn’t recall ever feeling this quiet.
As the night proceeded, the men gathered for a potluck meal. Most of them were in jovial spirits, talking and laughing. Little was said of the proceeds that just occurred. Cam ate, but kept to himself. Mano sought him out when the men were gathering up the remains of the meal.
“How was that, brother?”
“Uh, it was alright, actually. I feel pretty peaceful inside.”
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary on the way up the mountain?”
Cam let out a bark of a laugh. “You could say that. The star dream
ling was on my trail. Fucker even tried to push the car off the road. Weird thing was, though, he couldn’t seem to get through the glass of the car. All he could do was leap and lunge. My door’s all dented. It took every ounce of strength in me to be able to keep the car on the road. I thought I was a goner.”
Mano whistled. “That’s a sign, man.”
“Of what…?” Cam asked. “I think it’s more of a sign of the apparition wanting me dead. I figure I may as well use my time left wisely and make the best use of the time I have left with Chérie. Like, maybe she and I are getting together now so I can have one last hurrah. Then, it’s out the door, baby.” He made a slashing motion across his neck.
“I don’t think so, Cam. Charley says you have a strong spirit.”
Hearing that, Cam felt his eyebrows twitch but did not say anything.
“He says your path is unclear, however.”
“How does he know that?”
“The elders just know things, Cam. They listen, they pay attention…they are given signs.”
“What kind of sign did he get about me?”
“It was the rock that picked you out.”
Cam remembered the piece of basalt that seemed to stare at him in the woods. “What about it?”
“He said that kind of stone carries power in it. The power is deep and hidden inside the minerals. It’s some sort of primeval energy. We don’t know much about it; only that it is both a gift and a curse when that type of stone chooses to be in the lodge.”
“Huh…” Cam replied. He noticed the twister in his gut start to churn. “How so?”
