Long Snows Moon (10 page)

“I know what you mean, Claire, and of course
we’re both frustrated, but if you don’t stop being a bitch I’m not
going to want to share a bed with you, if you know what I
mean.”

“Sexual blackmail?” Claire whispered with a
devilish smile. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” Analise raised a brow.

“Okay, I’ll put away my guns,” Claire
conceded. “But I still don’t think it is right to let Devon drink,
period.”

“That’s duly noted and I agree.”

“And she has been mouthy with me.”

“Growing pains, Claire, that’s all. Please,
can we drop it now? Let’s get her something else to eat.”

“She had a plate of spaghetti that she
refused,” Claire said.

“You ordered it with meatballs. She doesn’t
eat meat, why can’t you respect that?”

“She needs proper nutrition.” Claire
began.

“She’s my daughter,” Analise said looking
away. “You hate kids, remember?”

“I thought we were doing this together,”
Claire snapped, trying her best to suppress her anger.

“If you want to do it together let’s do it. I
am ready. I have been ready. It has been a long time since we
devised our plan to be together. It has been over ten years and we
still live in separate houses, I am married to a work-a-holic who
is never home, and who has the sex drive of a rock, thank god. You
live with man with the ambition of a pair of socks who only through
his good looks and his family tree was able to get elected to
office.”

“And my hard work,” Claire reminded her.

Analise nodded. “Of course. The reality is
that he gets to sleep with you every night and wake up with you in
the morning. I don’t even want to know what goes on in
between.”

Claire began to say something but Analise
shushed her.

“Please, don’t say a word. I can tell when
you’re lying with my eyes closed. I don’t want to know. Don’t make
a fool of me.”

“I love you and only you,” Claire murmured.
She leaned forward and whispered. “The plan wasn’t supposed to go
on this long and you know that. You are the one who wanted to have
kids. We would have been out of the marriages by now and as wealthy
as I knew we’d be.”

“I’ve put away plenty of money,” Analise
reasoned. “I say we leave now. Take the kids and just leave. Why
can’t we?”

“I think we should wait until the children
are in college,” Claire replied, her eyes far away and
hardening.

“What’s the real reason, Claire?”

Claire was silent and Analise noticed the
vein on her temple getting larger.

“What are you trying to prove?”

Claire fixed her with eyes that said they had
never met.

“When is it going to be the right time?”

“When I say,” Claire scowled.

* * * *

It was a stupid ass glass of wine, the world
didn't stop turning. Devon sat in the back seat of the car
wondering how hard she would have to choke her throat to make
Claire's eyes pop out. She giggled. She liked the way the wine made
her feel. Fearless and wild. She studied the arrowhead by the light
of the moon. She had stopped listening to them yak after the sexual
blackmail part, whatever that was. It was dumb blabber. She closed
her eyes. A sense of peace washed over her. Touching the amethyst
arrowhead made her feel clean, whole, and pure.

She thought of Jameson. She closed her eyes
and fantasized about her soft lips brushing hers. The way she
smelled. How she really did read her thoughts. The wine made her
head spin and opened her mind to imagine what might have happened
if they hadn’t been interrupted.

Chapter Twelve

Devon huddled
against the ground. The air was still. She had no idea whether or
not she was sleeping. The things she saw and heard seemed best
explained as dreams or the result of fatigue and despair. Perhaps
the bourbon.

Recent tears remained frozen on her cheek.
Was Moon alive? Had she survived the fall?

Her eyes welled up again and produced more
tiny icicles. The guilt she felt for scolding Moon made her moan in
anguish.

Do not cry, my sister. Make good use of this
period of rest.

Devon rolled over onto her back. A white
buffalo stood above her with eyes bright and charitable.

“I must be facing north,” Devon mumbled,
surprised that she knew this. “You are the animal manifestation of
the spirit keeper of the north. You are Waboose.”

Then you are not lost after all.

“I am lost and I can’t find my dog, that’s
why I’m in the woods. I’m freezing and I want to go home. Why did I
end up here?”

The questioner often knows the answer.

“This is all a dream. I haven’t even left my
house and my huge, safe, warm comfortable bed. Maybe all of this is
the residual effect of another night of heavy drinking.”

You understand now.

She looked around to glare at the buffalo but
it was gone. “What are you saying,” Devon called out, “that all of
this is because of my drinking?”

Devon realized the lap of luxury, though a
wonderful place to reside, had not exactly prepared her for
survival in the elements. The spiritual connection she thought she
had and the books she’d scarcely read were flimsy musings and vague
memories. She clutched the arrowhead.

“Is this a vision quest?” she asked aloud. “A
medicine walk?”

Was it all just a dream? She was sure she’d
seen the breath from the buffalo’s nostrils and felt the warmth of
it on her face. Had she slipped into another realm or had she
simply lost her freaking mind? That was a good question for the
buffalo. Therefore, she asked it aloud.

“Am I losing my mind?”

Quite the opposite, you are expanding it.
This is your quest and you are now seeking answers in the
north.

The buffalo was above her, speaking without
moving its mouth. The puffs as it exhaled were rhythmic and
soothing. Again, Devon allowed herself to be in the dream.

You study, you read, but you have no faith.
You seek knowledge but do not listen.

“What should I know?” she asked, sitting up
and regarding the animal with respect.

North is the time between midnight and
dawn the darkest part of the day. It is the time of birth and
death. When you seek answers in the north, you will gain knowledge
of
the feminine aspect of our Creator. You will learn the
practice of healing. You will learn of self-sacrifice. As the
buffalo gives of its self, its whole self, to nourish and sustain,
you must learn to give of yourself.

“I read that, I remember that,” Devon mused.
“North is the direction of wisdom. And the buffalo is often sought
for its wise council.”

You will find what you came to seek.

Devon blinked and the buffalo was gone.

“But I didn’t come here to seek anything! I
came here by mistake!”

She flopped down and kicked her leg like an
insolent child.

A sound in the distance pulled her from her
reverie. She noticed a light from above and beyond dancing through
the trees. She heard a woman’s voice, and she thought she heard her
own name. The light vanished and once again, the darkness settled
in around her.

The flutter of wings startled her. The raven
appeared, flapping its wings with portentous fury.

“You again,” Devon grumbled.

She tried to stand but her ankle would not
hear of it. Her only options were to crawl or to hop on one foot.
She opted for the latter. The Gucci loafers she chose to wear that
day proved to be a poor choice, not to mention she was sans one.
She used a nearby tree as support and hopped a few times, falling
into the next tree, hopped a few steps and so on. The exasperating
raven followed suit, hopping alongside of her, stopping when she
stopped, hopping when she hopped.

“Stop hopping and stopping,” Devon said. “Why
did you lead me here? To lose my dog and in doing so lose the last
damn thing that was important in my life? Is that what I’m supposed
to learn?”

The raven ignored her and continued with its
mimicry until they emerged from the woods. Devon looked up the
embankment and knew she was where she started. She wilted onto the
snow.

“Moon! Where are you?”

The raven joined her and gazed at the night
sky. It let out a chilling screech, with the same cadence as
Devon’s cry for Moon.

Devon observed the bird, tempted to reach out
and touch it. It probed her with its shiny, black eyes, as if bored
by her, began preening itself.

“Hey, bird, why don’t you do me a favor and
fly around and look for my dog? You seem to know your way around
here.”

The raven flew.

“That bird is as real as my ragged
fingernails. This is no dream. I’ve got to get back up there.” She
began crawling up the hill. “I need someone to help me find
Moon.”

Her attempts were futile, for every few feet
she climbed she slid back double. The embankment was too steep.

“Damn it!” she screamed. “Damn it all to
hell!” Her voice echoed back and the chill settled on her like an
icy sheet. Defeat and despair made her weep aloud and she found
herself wishing for the companionship of that annoying bird.

Devon traced the arrowhead around the edges
of her mouth, stabbing her lip with the tip. She found a somewhat
comfortable place to sit at the base of the embankment at the foot
of a tree. The view of the overpass above was a comfort. The
occasional car that crossed brought her hope. She wished for her
shoe and a dry pair of pants. While she was on the subject of
wishing, a strong drink and a warm fire weren’t bad choices either,
with Moon safe and cozy beside her, of course.

She heard something behind her and half
expected to see the raven again, or maybe the buffalo or the bear.
Instead, she saw a beam of light bouncing toward her. She shaded
her eyes and fell backward with a start.

From the light, an enormous golden eagle
emerged. Devon was awestruck by its size and presence. It stood
before her, eye level, where she sat, and Devon felt herself warmed
by its radiance.

I am Wabun of the East. The light of
illumination is my gift to you. Clear your
muddled mind and
see what is all around you.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Devon began
to sob. “It is too much.”

Tears are necessary to cleanse your heart.
Cry until you are renewed.

“Then what?”

You will heal
.

“Is that my quest?”

It is the quest we all share, spiritual
awareness. The need to know there is something beyond the realm in
which we live. Something we cannot see, hear, or touch,
but
sense enough that we begin to question
reality
.

“At this point I’m beginning to question
reality, period,” Devon replied.

There are many realities and realms. Clear
your mind and you will see.

Chapter Thirteen

Turn off
the light or we will be revealed.

Jameson obeyed the raven and crouched behind
a large tree. From her vantage point, she saw Devon sitting at the
base of the embankment. Devon’s beauty astonished even in light of
her current state of disarray. She listened as Devon spoke, knowing
she was with Wabun.

“I want to know about realms and
spirituality, but right now I want to find my dog. I’m worried if
she survived the fall.”

She survived the fall.

“Where is she? Can you tell me that? Can one
of you animals out here tell me that?”

The answers you seek are hidden deeper
within the wood. Follow the light of illumination.

Wabun vanished.

“Great,” Devon sighed and flopped back onto
the ground.

Jameson retreated. She danced her flashlight
beam back toward Devon in hopes she would follow. She shoved
Devon’s loafer into her back pocket knowing she would have a good
head start. When she arrived at the clearing by the stream, she sat
at the bank. The water was black slate. She tossed a rock and
watched the ripples it created. She thought about the great
Medicine Wheel, the circle we walk toward perfection of being.
She’d designed a small medicine wheel in this clearing and went to
it now. She took a rock from the formation and tossed it into the
stream.

Life is an endless circle and Jameson found
herself back at a point in the circle where she started. She began
to collect rocks and arrange them in another formation, pausing to
bounce the beam through the trees. When her raven emerged, Jameson
turned off the flashlight and melted into the shadows of the dark
woods.

“Are you are responsible for bringing her
back?” Jameson asked the raven.

Long Snows Moon needed my assistance. There
is more to life than work and study. You must experience other
facets to a human life.

“I am accustomed to your riddles and cryptic
ways, but tell me what other facets must I discover?”

Love and intimacy.

Jameson snickered. “I am not discussing those
things with you, never, Sir Bird. Now, be quiet, here she
comes.”

She watched Devon lurch into the clearing and
collapse, face first, to the ground. Jameson resisted the urge to
rush to help her.

* * * *

“Moon?”

An animal slithered across her back and Devon
screamed. She found the energy to sit up. She strained to see in
the darkness. Its eyes glimmered like tiny diamonds by the light of
the moon. It raised its head and flicked its tongue, mesmerizing
Devon with it gaze. Devon was unafraid.

“The animals in these woods all speak, do
you?” Devon asked the snake as she pulled her jacket around
her.

Of course.

“They all have advice for me,” Devon added as
she found her flask. She took a long pull and started to laugh.
“This is nuts.”

It is not advice we offer. It is our
magic.