Thunderstone

by Pietron, Barbara;

  “And there’s this.” Ice reached over and laid his hand on top of hers. He left it there until she pulled away. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at him warily. “What did you see?”

  At first she didn’t reply. When she did, her voice was low and quiet. “Flames. Figures dancing. And I heard drums. What was it? How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know what it was. It comes from within you, your heritage. You see it when I touch you because I also have a link to the spirit world, but mine is more developed. With Nik—if he touches me—I’m the one who sees visions.”

  “This is freaking me out.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Ice scrubbed his hands over his face. “Jeni, the thing is…I like you. I could’ve fabricated a story. I could’ve tried to steal the statue or something. But I felt you deserved better than that.”

  She was quiet for a long while after that. Ice gave her time to think. There’d be more questions.

  “Okay, I could maybe swallow the priestess thing. But the monster? And how could you even know I woke it up?”

  “Nik received an omen.”

  “Convenient.”

  Ice sighed and rose from the chair. “I should go.” Jeni made no move to stop him. “Look, even if you think everything is bull-crap, would you consider loaning me the statue? I’ll bring it back. Think about it. I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. When the darkness enveloped him, he looked back. Jeni hadn’t moved. He watched her until she got up and went inside.

  He’d rolled the dice with a clean conscience. Tomorrow he’d find out just what it got him.

  One of the things the old people taught me about the spirits was to never have a doubt.

  —Wallace Black Elk, Lakota

  Chapter 5

  The cottage smelled like pancakes. Jeni wondered if anyone had thought to bring chocolate chips. Chocolate chip pancakes were her favorite, and comfort food is exactly what she needed this morning to console her confused psyche.

  At first she’d fled last night because her feelings were hurt; she thought Ice was thinking about kissing her and instead he asked for the statue. The experience was like running wantonly through the grass in bare feet and then unexpectedly stepping on a bee. Inside, nursing the sting, Jeni had peeped out the window. Ice looked so forlorn sitting on the swing alone with his head down. She started feeling sorrier for him than she did for herself.

  So she’d gone back and poked the hive. How stupid could she be?

  Everything had gone downhill from there. She hadn’t slept well; waking intermittently from dreams she couldn’t remember now, although she strongly suspected they involved monsters, flames, and drums. Consequently, she overslept this morning and missed the sliver of time when Carolyn was available. Now, more than ever, Jeni needed her best friend. She had no idea what she was going to tell Ice when he showed up this morning.

  She wandered into the kitchen and was startled to see Tyler setting a carton of eggs next to a large bowl. His mom was at the stove frying bacon and must’ve noticed Jeni’s look of surprise. “Tyler promised Molly he’d make her pancakes; I figured while he was at it he might as well make pancakes for everyone.”

  Jeni raised her eyebrows skeptically but didn’t comment. She poured a glass of juice and joined Tyler’s brother Jake, Jake’s wife Josie, and their daughter Molly at the table. Molly bounced in her seat. “Unca Tywer’s making an’mal ‘cakes.”

  “Sheesh, Tyler, do you have to make such a mess?” his mom said.

  Jeni looked over her shoulder and saw Tyler crack an egg against the counter top. Egg whites puddled on the tile surface and also ran down the outside of the bowl. His mom sighed in exasperation. “You should have Jeni show you how to crack them. She did it one-handed and still didn’t make a mess.”

  Jeni cringed and busily flipped through a guide book on the table, acting as though she hadn’t heard the exchange. Although it was awesome to hear someone tell Tyler that she could do something better than he could, she knew there’d be repercussions if she gloated.

  “Oh, I can do it one-handed,” Tyler said. “Watch.”

  Jeni felt something on her head and before she could turn, a hand smacked down, palm flat.

  Molly stared across the table, wide-eyed.

  Frozen in shock, it took Jeni a few seconds to comprehend that the tickling sensation on her scalp was only Tyler’s fingers trailing down her hair.

  She batted at his hands. “Cut it out, jerk.”

  Molly burst into a fit of giggles. “Do me! Do me!”

  Jeni rolled her eyes. She didn’t need Tyler’s shenanigans today.

  Other family members ambled into the kitchen and soon the first pancakes arrived at the table: a bunny-shaped one for Molly and a car for Nat. Then Tyler brought a stack of pancakes and set them in the middle of the table before he slapped a pancake on Jeni’s plate from his spatula.

  Heart-shaped.

  Jeni’s cheeks burned. She attempted to turn it around on him. “Aww, Tyler, I didn’t realize you loved me so much.”

  But he immediately came back with, “Yeah, I’m thoughtful—I figured you’d like a reminder of your vacation romance.”

  Ughhhh! Jeni gritted her teeth and hacked the pancake into pieces rendering the shape unrecognizable. Her iPod might be necessary to make it through breakfast. She changed her mind though, when a single word jumped out of a conversation between two of her aunts. Her ears perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘outside,’ except the word for Jeni was ‘genealogy.’

  “…family trees and stuff?” Tyler’s mom asked.

  “I guess,” Aunt Jesse responded. “I thought maybe birth records or something. But I expect at least one box has all that stuff in it. And Dad was planning a trip to Grandma Marie’s for more information when he got sick.”

  They were referring to the boxes. Again. There’d been much discussion between Jeni’s mom and her siblings about sorting the boxes they’d hurried to pack and move out of Jeni’s grandpa’s apartment after he died.

  “Really?” Tyler’s mom paused with a piece of pancake on the end of her fork. “I thought he didn’t like going there; he always flew Grandma out to Michigan.”

  “Yeah, well, he couldn’t really expect his ninety-year-old mother to go poking around in her attic. She said if he wanted the information, he could clean the attic while he was up there looking for it.” Aunt Jesse chuckled.

  Jeni smiled a little to herself. Anyone who’d met her great-grandma Marie knew she was a feisty, spirited old lady you couldn’t help but love. She did wonder though, why her Grandpa refused to visit New Orleans. He’d traveled all over the world. Besides, he grew up there. Surely he must still have some friends or other ties in the city. In fact, they were here at the Headwaters because he’d always wanted to traverse the Mississippi from beginning to end but never got the chance.

  “Oh, and get this,” Aunt Jesse added, “Grandma also told him he probably wasn’t going to like what he found.”

  “Why?” Tyler’s mom looked even more amused.

  “She wouldn’t tell him, but now I’m dying to know what kind of skeletons are in our family closet.”

  Why did they have to use the word ‘skeletons’? It made Jeni think of spirits and, according to Ice, she had some kind of link to that world. She shivered involuntarily. He also said the things she saw when he touched her were related to her heritage.

  Jeni frowned. So her grandpa was researching the family tree and was willing to go down to New Orleans—something he apparently never did—to find more information. And Grandma Marie alluded to some kind of family secret her son was not going to like. Was any of this related to Jeni’s alleged ability? Perhaps she should call her great-grandma and ask some questions. But if her aunts didn’t know, was there any chance her grandma would s
hare the secret with her great-granddaughter?

  ***

  An open calculus book and blank notebook page waited patiently beside a calculator. Ice tapped the eraser end of his pencil on the tabletop, staring at an equation. He’d gathered the necessary tools for homework but still lacked one essential element: focus. His mom wouldn’t be very happy if he didn’t get this assignment done, but apprehension had a way of overriding all other thoughts. Though he’d never admit it to Nik, Ice worried about what Jeni thought of him.

  She’d accused him of using her to get to the statue, and Ice was ashamed to admit it was true. Well, at least that’s what he’d set out to do last night. The day before he’d sincerely wanted to put her at ease as well as make sure the statue was safe. Then things became complicated as he got to know her. He respected her.

  He…yeah…he liked her.

  So Ice made the decision to be honest last night. He could only hope that it worked.

  His gaze shifted to the clock. 8:52. How early was too early for people on vacation? Ten problems, he decided. When he had ten problems done, he’d leave for the resort.

  In the middle of the third problem his cell phone rang. Ice considered ignoring it since he was finally concentrating on the work at hand. He reached for the phone to see who it was. Only a number showed on the display.

  Typically, Ice disregarded any number not programmed into his phone. Whether it was his desperate need for a distraction or the lingering ominous feeling after talking to Nik yesterday, something made him press the receive button.

  Hysterical gibberish responded to his greeting. Ice was able to make out his own name as well as lake and dad, so he interrupted. “Slow down, I can’t understand you. Who is this?”

  “Kal.” A gasping breath followed.

  Kal? A neighbor and childhood friend, Ice ran into him only occasionally these days.

  The next stream of nearly incoherent babble included the words fishing, monster, and Nik. Ice’s blood went cold and he sprang from his chair.

  “Kal? Kal! Where are you right now?” Ice scrambled for his car keys. “Headwaters Center…uh-uh…all right…yeah, go back, I’ll meet you at the launch near the campground. Okay, I’m on my way.”

  His Jeep was in gear and rolling down the driveway as Ice buckled his seat belt. He fumbled with his phone, searching the contact list for the tribal council offices when it dawned on him that Nik wasn’t there—he was at the vision quest lodge. He swore under his breath. Driving out to visit Nik wasn’t an option at the moment.

  With a heavy sigh, Ice tossed his phone on the passenger seat. He did his best to clear his mind, pushing everything out: Kal, the statue, Jeni. Establishing a mental link with Nik was difficult at the best of times, what made him think he could do while driving? Still, he had to try—it was his only hope to get a message to Nik.

  He took a deep breath, attempting to dispel the tightness in his chest, then released his death grip on the steering wheel—one hand at a time—and flexed his fingers. Concentrating only on Nik, Ice reached out for an open line of mental communication with his mentor.

  Suddenly the blare of a horn broke his concentration. Ice looked both ways frantically, trying to see what prompted the warning. He was leaving an intersection and the driver to the left on the cross street held his hands up in exasperation. A quick glance in the rear view mirror told Ice all he needed to know: he’d just run a stop sign.

  There’d be no communication with Nik right now.

  As apprentice, Ice served as the medicine man’s back-up. Handling this incident was his responsibility so he’d better not screw it up.

  Fifteen minutes later he drove in the north entrance of Itasca State Park, and followed the main park drive to the boat launch where he spotted his friend immediately. Kal stood with his forehead pressed to the roof of a car.

  Ice parked the Jeep and hopped out. “Kal? You okay?”

  When his friend didn’t move or respond, Ice stepped behind him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Kal’s frame began to shake as sobs tore through his chest. Ice moved his arm to encircle his friend’s shoulders as he surveyed the scene.

  The lake sparkled innocently in the morning sunshine. A canoe floated idly, about ten feet from shore, with a fishing rod sticking up out of it. There was no sign of Kal’s father.

  An icy tension settled in Ice’s chest.

  When Kal’s sobs subsided, Ice guided him to a parking block to sit down. He took a seat next to his friend, debating what to ask first. But Kal began to speak unprompted, delivering a somber, monotone account of his morning.

  Kal’s father had awakened his son before dawn to go fishing on Lake Itasca. They’d arrived at the boat launch, removed the canoe from the top of their SUV, loaded up their gear, and climbed inside. As the sun rose and they both felt more awake, Kal and his dad had started a little lighthearted banter.

  Ice remained silent as Kal sunk his face into his open hands. “I said his name,” he whispered hoarsely. “Oh God,” he moaned. “It was my fault.”

  Panic welled up from Ice’s gut and he swallowed to keep it from rising to the surface. The old suspicion of not speaking the name of Mishebeshu out loud had become a sort of joke among the younger generation, particularly with the advent of Harry Potter’s nemesis Voldemort—”He who must not be named.” “No,” Ice said quietly but firmly. “It’s not your fault.”

  Kal turned his head toward Ice and peered out from beneath the hair draped over his face. “He was telling me how my grandpa used to bring tobacco when he went fishing and I…I said his name out loud. A few minutes later, my line jerked like I caught a fish. A big fish.” Kal stopped and drew in a shaky breath. “We were excited. My dad got the net. He…he stood up to see into the water so he could net the fish when I got it close to the boat. All of a sudden the boat got squirrely. I saw something huge just beneath the surface. My line snapped and my dad…he…”

  Ice wasn’t sure if Kal would be able to finish, but he didn’t need to. The end of the tale was obvious.

  Kal sat up and looked across the water. “He fell in.” The words issued forth with a rush of air. Then he turned and stared at Ice with dead eyes. “He fell in the lake and he never came back up.”

  And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being.

  —Black Elk, Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux

  Chapter 6

  Jeni stared out the car window chastising herself for another bad decision. She’d opted to ride with her dad and uncle to avoid questions or conversation about the previous night. But on the way to the park, they’d passed a car with its front end accordioned against a tree on the side of the road. The site started a conversation about vehicle safety standards and features that Jeni had no interest in joining or listening to.

  Dodging questions would’ve been better than being alone with her thoughts.

  Although the group hadn’t left the resort until after lunch, Jeni hadn’t seen any sign of Ice. He’d dumped a load of crap on her last night and then abandoned her to wallow in it. Monsters? Pah! For all of her love of mythology and legends, Jeni never believed any of it was real. If she did, she’d never sleep at night.

  And if monsters weren’t enough, Ice also claimed she was a priestess. Nonsense—she was just Jeni: high school student from the Detroit suburbs. There wasn’t anything remotely mysterious or different about her—or her family. The skeleton in the family closet was probably nothing more than a kid born out of wedlock. Big deal.

  Jeni glowered out the window. Terrific. Now this nonsense was spoiling her vacation. How could her initial impression of Ice have been so utterly wrong? Was he actually some kind of freak that got off on making up stories and messing with people’s head
s?

  She wanted to scream. Instead, desperate for a distraction, she snatched the park map from the seat next to her and searched for the next point of interest on the Wilderness Drive. “Why can’t I find the headwaters on this map?”

  Her uncle glanced over his shoulder from the passenger seat. “Look at the top of Lake Itasca.”

  Seriously? The Mississippi flows south across the United States—it should be at the bottom of the lake. But no, the river not only started at the top of Lake Itasca, it headed north, winding its way through other small lakes until finally beginning to journey south.

  Maybe this entire area was messed up—like those ‘mystery spots’ advertised on billboards. Maybe something in the water made the locals a little wacko.

  They pulled into a parking area and her other family members piled out of the cars and headed down the trail to an observation tower. Surrounded by idle chatter, Jeni felt acutely alone. The only saving grace was that Tyler wasn’t here. He and Jake decided to check out the casino.

  After the quarter-mile hike, Jeni peered up at the intimidating height of the tower. Then she directed her gaze to the switchback of stairs under the observation platform. As the group migrated toward the steps, Jeni’s grandma broke from the crowd and headed for a nearby bench. Jeni joined her.

  “Sitting this one out?” her grandma asked.

  “I’m thinking about it. I don’t really care for heights, although I always love the view.”

  “I’d be up there if not for my old knees. You know the trick is to not look down?”

  “I know, but those steps are made of metal grate—you can see right through them.” Jeni marked the progress of her mom and aunts as they worked their way to the top of the tower. A thought struck her and she suddenly felt a ray of hope. “I guess I will try it,” she said.