Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (129 page)

She smiled for a moment then suddenly bloomed with excitement. “Oh! Emily forgot! She has not yet told Isna of the dream she had the night at the rocks.”

He looked at her expectantly then smiled his wry smile, interlocked his thumbs, flitted his fingers like a butterfly, as he’d done in the forest at Chesapeake. “What did Emily dream?”

She giggled. “ ’Twas not that sort of dream, and Emily does not yet understand its meaning.” She inhaled deeply, as if preparing to tell a long story. “Emily again saw Isna’s vision, but . . . but this time, something new happened to the last little white fawn.”

Isna watched her intently.

“When the two black stones and Isna’s vision pipe reappeared around her neck, she turned into a beautiful—”

True-Dog tossed a leather pouch on the ground beside Isna, another between Emily and Virginia, which landed close to Virginia. “That one is Emily’s.”

She nodded, concentrated on tearing two more strips of cloth from her dress, wondered fleetingly what was in the pouch. She then smeared a mixture of mud and moss over Isna’s wounds, began to wrap a bandage around the top of his arm. “ Isna and Soft-Nose will bleed when they paddle canoes.”

“We are Lakota. We will do what we must. And when we reach the first river, we will float downstream for many days, which will be a time for healing. We will be ready when we reach the Mother-of-All-Rivers and need all our strength to paddle north against the current.”

Emily listened, nodded as she tied the ends of the bandage, then sat back on her heels to inspect her work.

Virginia suddenly squealed with delight, flailed her arms excitedly.

Emily looked at her. “What are you doing, you little rascal?”

Virginia held the pouch True-Dog had tossed between her and Emily; she had methodically scattered its contents in the tall grass around her.

Isna said, “I see our new daughter does not like her gifts and gives them to the grass people.”

Emily smiled, glanced at the pouch. “What is it?”

“It is a warrior bundle. Warriors put their jewelry in them before a fight, as I did with my eagle-bone necklace. True-Dog found them when he followed the Powhatans to the west gap. Yours belonged to the Panther. See his mark there?” He pointed at a red panther face on the side of the pouch.

Emily’s mind spun wildly. My locket! She frantically snatched the bundle from Virginia, shook it upside down. Empty. She dropped forward onto her hands and knees, crawled slowly around Virginia, brushing leaves aside, searching under every blade of grass. It has to be here!

“What do you seek?”

“My locket! He had my mother’s locket.
Must
have put it in the bundle before the fight. It
has
to be here. Oh, Isna, where is it?” She lowered her face to her hands, moaned softly.

Isna rolled onto his knees beside her, caressed her hair, then gently lifted her chin. “Perhaps the Panther did not bring Emily’s locket with him.” He touched her cheeks, gently lifted her head until she sat back on her heels, rubbed her teary eyes. When she looked at him, he moved his left hand from behind his back. It held a pink flower—the first flower of spring. He extended it slowly toward her face, gently dabbed her tears, kissed it, then held it to her lips.

Emily stared at him teary-eyed, took the flower, kissed it, then touched it to her cheek. She slowly nodded, smiled a contented smile, leaned forward as he again held her cheeks, pulled her into a soft, lingering kiss.

True-Dog jogged to his position as advance guard. He was several yards into the forest when Emily, her flower tucked in her hair, walked to the stream, knelt, and scooped a handful of water.

As she stood and turned toward Isna, something in the grass caught her attention. “ Isna!” She dropped to her knees.

All three warriors gripped their weapons, faced her.

“Isna, Isna, I found it!” She stood, dangled her precious black locket from her hand. When she opened the trap door, she found the lock of her mother’s hair inside, stared at it as tears filled her eyes and a procession of images of her father and mother drifted slowly through her mind like leaves floating on a lazy stream. She shut the locket door, held it to her cheek, closed her eyes. Mother, I love you . . . I
shall
see you again. Tears of joy streamed down Emily’s cheeks as she smiled at Isna, stared into his eyes; she slowly removed her first flower of spring from her hair, held it and her locket to her heart.

He softly touched her cheeks, gazed into her glistening eyes, leaned forward, gently kissed her lips.

And while Allie’s heart and soul willed them to stay, the enveloping mists of time slowly encircled them until they were gone.

Chapter 27

A
llie brushed her hair, smiled contentedly at herself in the bathroom mirror. Look pretty decent today, O’Shay . . . good color, twinkle in your eye, nice-looking hair . . . like your old self . . . ’bout time. Feel good, too. Though she continued to robotically brush her hair, her thoughts detached from her eyes, refocused inside her mind. What a tale . . . what an ending. But is it the end? She smiled. No . . . it’s a beginning . . . and what a beginning. Wonder if I’ll ever see her again. A twinge of sadness, sudden longing swept her heart as a soft voice in her mind told her,
no
. She put her brush down, fluffed her hair with her hands. Shirt’s a little skimpy; maybe I should . . . nah, forget it.

Allie walked into the kitchen, sat at the table with Dressler and her mother, smiled serenely at both as they stole quick, involuntary glances at her deep cleavage and nearly see-through shirt.

Nancy said, “Well, don’t
you
look smiley this morning.” She grinned. “Must be feeling good. Maybe my Allie Girl’s back.”

Allie blushed. “Mom!”

“Okay. Maybe my dear, long-lost daughter, Allie O’Shay, has returned. Good to see you again, kiddo.”

“Come on, Mom. You’re embarrassing me.”

Dressler chuckled. “You
do
look rather contented, and enchanting, today, Ms. O’Shay. Must have been a good night.”

Allie smiled. “ ’Twas indeed.”

Dressler said, “Well, finally! Way overdue.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get to a meeting pretty quick, so can you give us a quick rundown on what happened?”

Her persistent smile pasted on her face like a mask, Allie relayed the events of her dream, grew reflective when she described the attack on the villages and Emily and Isna’s consummation of their marriage, then bubbled with excitement when she described the fight and Emily finding her locket.

Dressler said, “Wow. What a story.” He smiled. “You know, I think what they say about real life being more exciting than fiction is true. So, do you think you’ll—”

“Oh! Excuse me, Doc, forgot something.” She shook her head. “Can’t believe I forgot to tell you this; it’s the most important part of the entire experience. The last night, Emily and I dreamed Isna’s spirit vision, and—” She pondered something for a moment. “I don’t think I ever told
you
about the spirit vision, Mom, but I’ve told Steve.” She quickly described the vision. “Anyway, it always ended with the last little white fawn, with the vision pipe and two black stones around her neck, but Emily and Isna never understood what that meant.” She looked at them with a haunting smile and sparkling eyes that gave her a striking, almost-hypnotic aura. “But last night, the little white fawn turned into—”

Dressler’s phone rang. He held up his index finger, answered the call. “Okay, I’ll be right over.” He glanced at Nancy and Allie. “Meeting got moved up. Gotta go.” He stood, stared at Allie. “Allie, I’ve never seen you so contented and happy . . . and vivacious, if I may say so. I think you’ve turned the corner, found closure; and I want to tell you, I’m more convinced than ever we’re onto something earth-shaking. So if you’re willing, I’ll complete the preparations for the next phase, as we’ve discussed—PET, CT, MRI, SPECT, and functional MRI—so we can get going immediately . . . whatever and whoever you dream of. Are you game?”

Allie and Nancy looked at one another—Nancy with a worried look, Allie with an excited one. Nancy eyed Dressler. “Steve, I’m not going to lie. I’m really concerned about this. I mean, we all know the history of what’s ultimately happened to our family’s dreamers, and . . . and we’ve just experienced something that could have put Allie right there with the others.” She shook her head. “I
know
this is the dream-science opportunity of a lifetime, but damn it! I’m afraid as all hell for Allie . . . period.
And as her mother, going into a program that encourages more dangerous dreams scares the hell out of me.” She glanced at Allie then back at Dressler, sighed. “But Allie’s an adult . . . so I guess I have no say. So. . .” She looked at Allie.

Allie stared empathetically at her for a moment then spoke. “Thanks, Mom . . . I understand your feelings . . . and I appreciate your concern. And I’m still kinda scared, too. They
are
dangerous dreams; I can see that . . . and the worst, scariest ones are probably yet to come. But I’m gonna dream
anyway
, so we might as well advance science in the process . . . no matter what ultimately happens to
me
. But I still believe the more we learn and the more we understand the dreams, the more controllable my reactions to them will become. I mean, hell’s bells! Is there really any other choice?”

After a long silence, Nancy shook her head. “Actually, I guess not . . . so consider me onboard. Let’s go for it!” She smiled.

Allie nodded slowly. “Thanks, Mom. I know I’m gonna need your support . . . Dad’s, too.” She looked at Dressler, smiled. “Guess we’re a go, Doc.”

Dressler studied her for a moment, nodded. “Sounds good. So—”

“Oh, Doc.” She sighed. “Is there any way I could get a week off before we start—like to go home to the ranch and R-and-R a bit? Been a long, stressful time. And if I dream—about Emily or anyone else—I’ll do good, comprehensive debriefs.”

“Absolutely. Great idea. You need it . . . and I need more time to get organized.” He nodded repeatedly. “Good plan.” He then walked to Allie, held her hands in his, stared into her suddenly teary eyes. “Allie, you’re incredible. Can’t wait to get going . . . thanks.”

Allie felt a surge of warmth through her body and mind, leaned forward, kissed his cheek. “Thank
you
, Doc. I’ll be ready.”

Dressler eased away, lingered his gaze on Allie for a moment, nodded, then looked at Nancy, who watched with a slightly suspicious look. “And thank
you
, Nancy. We couldn’t have gotten through this without you. And I know we’re going to need your help in the future.”

Nancy said, “Thanks, Doc . . . and good luck. This
is
the right thing to do.”

Allie sat alone on the front porch of the ranch house, sipped coffee, watched the flaming red of the sun’s first glow creep relentlessly like a lazy incoming tide, from the timbered mountaintops in front of her across the dark, blue-black tent of sky above her. She’d stared at the same view her entire life—all times of day and night, all seasons of the year—had never failed to feel her pulse quicken at the raw, naked beauty of it, thank God for the privilege of being there to witness it. She’d always reveled in the solitude of the mountains, imagined herself an Indian or a mountain man, subsumed the residual feelings of awe and exhilaration they’d left behind in the forests and meadows, their harmony with everything around them, their often arcane sense that God himself surrounded them.
Wakan Tanka
. . . always here . . . in every
thing
. . . in every
creature
. She’d always felt his presence, had never had a shadow of doubt he was there, marveled that any honest being could experience the grandeur, the immensity, the feeling of utter insignificance extant in the Rocky Mountains, without believing some higher force, some higher power had set it all in motion, indeed, resided there unseen . . . or perhaps quite visibly if one simply looked in the right places.