According to Legend (12 page)

Moheeladeck and I held each other the entire night, and as we lay together in my bed, in my present time, I found myself immersed in a love that transcended time. My heart fluttered as it swelled with happiness. But when the sun came up again, Moheeladeck’s brow furrowed and his expression was solemn.

“We must return to our People now. Together,” he said.

“How will I accompany you back if I’m not sleeping?”

“Now that you possess both halves of the stone, you have the power to do this.”

My jaw dropped open. I was just beginning to discover the powers of the stone.

“What’s going on? Why is it so important that I go back with you right now?” I asked as I was getting dressed.

“Today we prepare our fallen brother for his final journey to Cautantowit.”

“Cautantowit?”

“Yes, the mountain of the Great Spirit.” His expression remained somber.

I didn’t question him but realized the gravity of the situation. We must be there, united as a couple, for those who were mourning the loss of a loved one. I was about to attend my first Indian funeral, the funeral of a warrior who lost his life because he was defending me. My stomach wrenched as guilt wormed its way in.

When I was dressed and ready to go, I looked around for Half-Breed but he was nowhere to be found. Knowingly Moheeladeck said, “Half-Breed has gone ahead, he knows you are safe with me and he is required elsewhere.”

I wondered what required the wolf’s presence elsewhere, but dared not ask. Holding the catcher in my right hand, I placed the palm of my left hand over Moheeladeck’s heart and uttered the words, “Take us back to the Aloscotay People,” and we were instantly transported back to the village.

When we appeared in the village we were standing close to the central fire. The mood was solemn, as I’d expected, but what I did not expect to find was everyone in the tribe wearing black face paint.

Weekatay approached us and took me by the arm.

“Come, we must prepare you for the ceremony.”

I followed her to her lodge where she applied the black color to my face.

“Takshawee, do you remember that you must never again mention the name of one who has gone on his final journey?” Fog swirled in my mind as I had only a vague recollection of this custom. I was slowly opening to the memories of Takshawee, but I decided that I would stand close to Moheeladeck, if that were permitted, or with Weekatay, and say nothing. I would follow their lead. I didn’t want to cause my husband, their Chief, any embarrassment and being the Tribal Princess, I wanted to live up to the title. My mouth was dry and I hoped the People would not realize I struggled to recall their customs.

When we left Weekatay’s lodge, I found Moheeladeck standing among the People. His face was also painted black. Men and women alike were weeping, standing around a shallow grave lined with branches and sticks. Next to the burial place, resting on some furs was the body of the fallen warrior. I stood next to Moheeladeck and waited for him to say some parting words but was taken by surprise when another man appeared like a ghost through the crowd. His face was also painted black and he wore a costume of feathers that made him appear as if he were a bird.

He approached the family of the fallen warrior, murmuring, “Kutchimmoke.” I knew that was Aloscotay for ‘be of good cheer.’ He said this to each of them while touching their heads and cheeks. As if I once dreamed it, I recalled this old burial custom of the tribe. The widow of the fallen man sobbed openly and my chest constricted with the pain of her loss.

The strange birdman then knelt beside the body and decorated the fallen warrior with ornaments and amulets that had been lying on the fur beside his broken and still form. The great birdman was chanting all the while and when he finished, he wrapped the lifeless body tenderly in the furs. With gentle care, as if placing an infant in its mother’s arms, he laid the body into the grave. He took care to be certain that the body was facing west and then placed beside it items that were necessary for the fallen warrior’s journey to Cautantowit . . . weapons, tools, dishes, and food. After more chanting and a few more words, he and Moheeladeck began to shovel the earth over the wrapped form.

My People, men, women and children alike, were wailing and sobbing, and I could no longer hold back the tears that stung my eyes and wept with them.

After the earth covered our fallen tribesman a small sacrifice of corn was burned close to the grave. The widow hung the clothes of her dead husband on the low branch of a nearby tree. I remembered the custom was that the clothes would remain untouched until they rotted away from the elements. It was strange for me to be part of this because I, Pam Hastings, had no knowledge of this warrior, while I, Takshawee, knew every member of the Aloscotay tribe, my extended family. My own spirit was torn and agony ripped through me. The People as a family had collectively lost a brother.

I stood there beside the grave with my eyes closed, lost in the turmoil of my emotions when I sensed a presence. I opened my eyes to find the strange birdman standing before me. His warm hand touched my arm. I was distracted by his attire and black face paint, but when my eyes met his something stirred deep within my soul as I gazed into one brown eye and one blue one. He said not a word, but smiled a poignant smile as he backed away from me, departing as suddenly and silently as he had appeared.

Moheeladeck came to my side. “Come, Takshawee. Let us leave the dead to his journey,” he said as he gently escorted me away from the grave.

As we walked away, I asked, “Why didn’t you perform the burial ceremony?”

“It was not my place to do so.”

“Who was the man that did?”

“He is Emanudeck, our Holy Man, our Shaman. He has much wisdom and great magic. He is the husband of Weekatay and Takshawee . . . he is your father.”

My jaw dropped. I stood frozen.
How could I have no memory of this man? How could I not know my own father?
I looked to Weekatay. Moheeladeck moved to Weekatay’s side and spoke softly to my mother. She came to my side, took me by the arm, and guided me away from the throng that was beginning to gather around us.

She led me into her lodge. We sat close by the fire burning there and she began her tale.

“Yes, daughter, Emanudeck is your father.”

“How is it that I do not remember him?”

“It was the year of your sixteenth spring when Moheeladeck and his father came to the annual gathering so Moheeladeck could meet you, his intended bride—the one promised to him from birth. It was then that his father invited me and your father to live with you and become part of the Aloscotay Tribe. We agreed, but it was difficult for us because your father is a powerful Shaman. The tribe we came from, the Shagocotay, did not want us to leave them, but they could not deny Moheeladeck’s father who is a very influential man, worshiped by the People of the Sun. There was a treaty made between the tribes so that Emanudeck and I would be released to accompany you after your marriage. But, of course, according to the customs of the People, before you could wed Moheeladeck, he would have to come and live with your people for one year and serve them. He agreed and it was done. One year later, you were married and we all returned here.”

“Why is it I have not seen my father before today? Why do I have no memory of him? Why has he never been here when I came here before, in my dreams?”

“The terms of the treaty were that your father was allowed to leave the Shagocotay and become part of this tribe where he would serve you and Moheeladeck. However, until another was raised to take his place he would also serve the Shagocotay. There was a young man born in that tribe who possessed much magic, but until this boy was old enough to accept the responsibility of the position of Shaman, your father remained in their service as well as in Moheeladeck’s. It was too painful for you to separate from him so he mystically took away your memories of him . . . to ease your suffering. He will return your memory to you now that you are able to bear it. At present, your father is no longer in the service of the Shagocotay, but has been summoned to perform a duty for the Aloscotay, but it draws him away from our village. After the ceremony here today, he must return to that duty until it is no longer required of him. Then he will return to us.”

What duty could possibly be so important?
I thought.

She answered my unspoken question as if she could read my mind. “A bond of great love has drawn your father to this duty. Trust in him for he is very wise. He has not deserted you and will never abandon you, child. Trust in him”—she patted my arm—“Now we should return to the People,” she said and she silently led me back to my husband. I knew there was more to the story, but I also knew that was her way, and that all would be revealed to me . . . in time.

I found Moheeladeck in conversation with the warrior’s widow. According to the customs of the Aloscotay, it was his responsibility as their Chief to now provide for her and her two young children. He was asking her if she wished to move her family into his lodge, not as another wife, but as extended family, as was the custom, or if she would rather remain in her own lodge. Regardless of her decision, he vowed to protect her and her children and to provide for them.

She smiled a kind smile through her tears and he hugged her. She said she would rather remain in her own lodge but would accept his protection and was grateful to have him provide for her and her children.

I grinned, but sadness tugged at my heart and tore my soul as I watched this tender exchange and wondered when these touching customs had been lost? It was so beautiful to see extended family caring so much for each other as these People did. It was more than a custom or duty that was expected of them. It was their way of life. I had never seen anything like it. They were one with each other and one with the earth. To them, everything had a spirit and was sacred. They used everything that they grew and every part of each animal that was hunted. They wasted nothing and for their simple way of life, they wanted for nothing.

I knew in my heart at that moment that if I ever had to make a choice between being here with the Aloscotay People in this time or being in my present day world with all its modern conveniences, I would choose to be here with my husband among the loving family of our People. My heart ached when I realized that one day soon, I would have to make that decision.

I wanted to remain here and help with the preparation for winter and since uniting the stones gave me control over my passage through time, I was able to do so. I was beginning to share the memories of Takshawee, so my mind contained the knowledge of the work required.

The women were harvesting the crops, pumpkins, squash of all types, corn and beans, from the abundant gardens surrounding the village. I hung some of the corn and squash over the branch beams in Moheeladeck’s lodge. He would be providing for the widow and her family so I wanted to make sure there was plenty as we prepared for the cold and snow to come.

The mind of Pam Hastings couldn’t even fathom spending a harsh winter in this encampment, but Takshawee had done this many times. It was a demanding time for the Aloscotay because their very existence through winter depended on the work done now. Just prior to the battle, the men had returned from a hunting trip and there was work to be done to prepare the meat and skins. Drying and smoking racks were placed throughout the village. Everyone had a job to do and we all worked together.

Being here with the People felt so natural to me. Men, women, and even children would come up and speak to me as if I had been there all my life. They offered a kind smile in passing or a wave of their hand. I seemed to fit in here as I had never fit in anywhere in my life as Pam Hastings.

Kneeling in the garden digging in the earth, I came to realize that maybe Pam had been born into the wrong time. But as much as I knew I belonged here, I also knew I still had obligations in my world, and as much as I didn’t want to, I knew I had to go back to take care of them.

It was late afternoon when I was finally able to spend a few minutes with Moheeladeck. We came together at the central fire pit to take a ladle of stew from the large clay pot that seemed to always be there. We sat together to eat and he seemed very pleased to have me by his side.

“I am complete now that you will be here always,” he said with a contented sigh.

“Actually, we need to talk about that. I should probably be heading back to my time.”

“You wish to go? Are you not happy here?”

“No, I don’t want to go, but I have obligations there Moheeladeck. I have a job and boss to answer to. I have work that is due and bills to pay. I wish more than anything that I could stay here,” I said as I reached up and placed my hand upon his cheek. I felt my stomach clench as my thoughts turned to David, but I forced those thoughts from my mind.

“If you have obligations to fulfill, you must go back, fulfill them quickly, and return. Finish with them and then you will be free to remain here always.”

I knew by his response that he didn’t understand how complicated it was. “Moheeladeck, it’s not that simple. Let me try to explain.”

“I understand. You have a debt to someone that must be paid. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

A frown furrowed his brow and he grew silent.

“What is it?”

“Perhaps the reason you wish to return to your world is that you are displeased with our lodge here and you do not wish to live without the things in your world that . . . how did you say . . . make your life easier.” Hurt echoed in his voice.

“That’s not it at all. I do want to be here with you and with our People, but it’s not something that is going to happen immediately. I need to return to my time and at least put my house, er, lodge on the market.”

“What this means? This . . . on the market?”

“That means that I offer my lodge for sale in what is called the ‘housing market’ and hope that someone will want to purchase it and will be willing to pay the amount of money I need in order to pay back the debt. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Then you must return to your time and do this on the market, sell your lodge, and come back to me where you belong and where I can protect you,” he responded as if it were a simple matter, a done deal.