Long Snows Moon (18 page)

“Calm down and sew me up before I bleed to
death, please. I do not need money and I do not grow it to sell. I
grow it and breed it with another plant. It’s my mother’s holistic
cure for cancer.”

“You mean her Mercy Weed? That’s no
cure.”

“You know about it?” Jameson asked wincing as
the needle pierced her flesh.

“Of course I know about it, I was there with
her through all of her appeals to the grant committees, they
wouldn’t hear any of it. They don't want a cure for cancer, too
much money to be made in people dying. Doc almost found one,
though.”

“What do you mean, almost?”

“A single component eluded her.”

“Maybe that component was left for me to
find,” Jameson mused.

“Wrong. It’s illegal and dangerous. Look at
the trouble it’s caused already. Guess what I’m going to do? I am
going to stay the night with you tonight and in the morning make
sure you get rid of every bit of that vile weed. You hear me? That
is the way Doc wanted it. Respect your dead mother.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, you don’t want a bunch
of crazed drug addicts breaking in and cutting you, right? Let this
be a lesson to you child. Heed my warning. I’ll put a protection
around your house later.”

“Thanks,” Jameson winced, biting back the
pain with another pull from the brandy.

“I still don’t know how they found out that
you’re growing it.”

“I was giving the Mercy Weed to someone.”

“Who?”

“I can’t say,” Jameson stated. “I promised I
wouldn’t tell. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s sick.”

“You better tell me who she is right
now.”

“I can’t. All I will say is I met her at the
Moon Lodge.”

“The Moon Lodge? You know that’s nothing more
than a hen house anymore, a bunch of silly women sitting around
suffering over their men and their menstruation.”

“She’s sick and she needed my help.”

“Well, you keep her secret, child, but know
this, she sure as the gods didn’t keep yours.”

* * * *

The next morning found Jameson sore and
bitter about the night’s events. That gave her even more reason to
gather her paints, canvas, and take off with Berry. Lauren wouldn’t
get up early, Jameson had seen to that with by giving her Sleep Tea
instead of her usual Orange Zest. It would give her enough time to
hide one of the plants in the woods.

Her deed done, Jameson maneuvered her
four-wheeler over the bumpy terrain toward Elk’s Pass Bridge. It
was her desire to paint the bridge from below. She found her spot
and set out her waterproof blanket, her paints, and her canvas.
Berry bounded after a jackrabbit. Jameson smiled, wishing she had
brought her camera to capture Berry’s rapture of the game. She sat
and faced the bridge, overwhelmed by an odd premonition. She heard
voices wafting over the landscape, but was unable to make out what
they were saying, or from what direction they came.

She selected her colors and squeezed them
onto her palate. Berry began to bark and took off running. Jameson
jumped up and called after her, tripping and ripping her homemade
sutures. She pressed her stomach as the blood oozed through her
sweater.

“Berry,” Jameson called. “Come back
here!”

Three shots rang out, perfect cadence perfect
aim. All three bullets hit home and Berry fell to the snowy
ground.

“Nooooo!” Jameson screamed. Her legs were
heavy. She trudged as though she was in quicksand. By the time she
reached Berry, the snow was heavy with blood. The jackrabbit sat
beside her, as if giving last rites.

Jameson fell on top of her dog and buried her
face in Berry’s icy fur.

“Stop taking from me!” she screamed. “Why?
What more can I learn? What am I supposed to learn from this?”

The owl sat, obscured by a large branch, in a
nearby tree.

The time has come for her soul to evolve.
She has crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

Chapter Eighteen

When Jameson
finished the story, the fire had reduced to embers. Moon snored
like a buzz saw from beneath a stack of blankets on the other side
of the tent.

Jameson lay with her hands laced behind her
head staring at the moon’s light as it strained through the fabric
of the tent. What a perfect metaphor for the body and soul. She
smiled.

Devon wiped the tears on Jameson’s face, and
whispered, “You have been through so much. You are strong, Raven
Song.”

Jameson kissed Devon’s hand held it against
her face. “Thanks for listening. I needed to get that out. I never
told anyone.”

“I appreciate you sharing it with me. As I
told you earlier, my story would take about five minutes. I haven’t
endured as much loss and pain.”

“Pain is subjective. I am no worse for mine
than you are for yours.”

“Another fine wisdomism,” Devon nodded,
snuggling with Jameson.

“Do you think the men who killed Berry were
the ones who broke in and stabbed you?”

“I am sure of it,” Jameson sighed.

“How is it possible they got away with
shooting your dog? That’s horrible. I mean if anyone killed Moon, I
swear I would be in jail.”

“Retribution was served and I didn’t have to
forsake my freedom,” Jameson explained. “In these woods the animals
rule. They maintain balance here and it is their duty to settle the
score.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come with me.” Jameson pulled Devon to her
feet and led her outside. Moon was right behind them. Jameson
called out to the darkness. Moon responded to it with an excited
bark. Wolves surrounded their camp.

“Do you remember Two Stars?”

“Of course, Ocumwhowurst.”

“My mother tried to make me believe that Two
Stars was a lone wolf. I always sensed otherwise. Later I found out
he belonged to a sacred pack. Two Stars would bear his lineage out
of the forest and into civilization to expand awareness of wolf
medicine. Berry was the daughter of Two Stars, and therefore
protected by the pack. The pack exacted revenge on Berry’s
attackers.”

“The wolves killed the men?” Devon
breathed.

Jameson nodded and whispered, “I am still
haunted by their screams. I couldn't stop it. It is the natural
order of things here. Not that I objected, they got what they
deserved.”

Devon noticed how Jameson’s eyes looked black
and distant when she spoke of revenge. “As the granddaughter of Two
Stars, Moon is protected, as well,” Devon said.

“Yes, she is. Look.”

Devon watched as Moon approached one of the
larger wolves. He bowed as if to greet her. Moon yowled at him.

“He won’t hurt her, will he?”

“No he won’t. His name is Rubek, he is their
leader,” Jameson told her. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Yes, he’s incredible,” Devon breathed.

Jameson gestured toward the wolves and they
turned to leave. Devon yelled at Moon when she began to follow
them.

“Oh, no you don’t, get back here, Moon.”

“They have welcomed her and wish to commune
with her.”

Devon watched Moon disappear with the
pack.

“She will be back,” Jameson promised. “They
want to know her. They are taking her to meet her grandfather. It
is time for Long Snows Moon to meet Two Stars.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Very much so.” Jameson’s eyes twinkled.

Devon began to follow Moon. “I want to see
Two Stars.”

Jameson took her arm and pulled her back. “It
is not your time.”

Devon yanked her arm from Jameson grip. “I
want to go,” she snapped. Her eyes narrowed and her voice was a
snarl.

“It’s not your time,” Jameson repeated.
“Stay.”

Devon obeyed.

“Now, come,” Jameson commanded. Devon
followed Jameson back into the tent, casting forlorn glances at the
woods.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I don’t know
what came over me. I want to be with Two Stars.”

“I know you do,” Jameson soothed.

Devon pouted and tried to suppress her anger.
She wanted to tear off her clothes and run through the woods. She
felt feral in the presence of the wolves and that wildness
lingered.

In the distance, the wolves howled, a
resonance so primal and free. Wildness pervaded her unlike anything
she’d ever experienced. She felt her vision grow sharper, her
hearing heighten. She was aware of her own body, the way her
muscles flexed, the scent of Jameson as she responded to Devon’s
heat. She tore off Jameson’s clothes. Devon was fearless like a
wolf. She was eager with her mouth and daring with her hands.

* * * *

They awakened at the same instant, alarmed by
a sound outside the tent.

“Moon is that you?” Devon called. “Come
here.”

Moon pushed her way in through the flap and
dropped the cell phone on the pile of blankets.

Devon stared at it as if it were going to
bite. “Where did you get this?”

Moon looked over her shoulder and yowled,
indicating outside.

“It’s my cell phone,” she told Jameson. “The
hawk took it yesterday. How did you find it, Moon?”

Moon barked at Jameson as if she was trying
to relate something.

“She said the hawk delivered it,” Jameson
smiled, interpreting.

“Oh, come on.” Devon rolled her eyes as she
studied the phone. Her hands trembled when she saw the missed calls
from her mother. She donned Jameson’s sweatshirt and tucked the
phone in the pocket. She was not ready to deal with her mother.

“Moon, did you enjoy yourself last night?”
Jameson asked.

Moon barked once.

“You are filthy,” Devon noticed. “Come here,
you have dirt and leaves on your tail.”

Moon barked twice and ducked from Devon’s
grasp.

The phone rang.

“It must be an important call if your phone
was delivered out here,” Jameson observed.

Devon thought of the hawk that stole her
phone. Had he brought it back?

She answered it.

“Mom?”

It was not. It was Claire on the other end
and Claire who delivered the horrible news of Analise's terminal
disease. Devon hung up and began to weep.

“What can I do for you?” she whispered.

“Nothing. I have to go.”

“Okay, I’ll take you back,” Jameson soothed
her without asking why. “I’ll pack everything and we’ll leave.”

“Okay,” Devon sniffed. “I feel selfish
because I don’t want to leave you. I have been happier in this day
that I have been in my whole life.”

“You can come back.”

“What if I can’t? What if this moment is all
we are supposed to have?”

“Well, it was a damn fine moment and I’m
grateful for it.”

“So am I.” She pulled Jameson in for a deep
kiss. As their mouths met, Devon had a flash of her mother kissing
Claire that night. She felt no revulsion or awkwardness at the
image. Instead, she understood the passion they’d hidden and
protected for years. She felt their love and their freedom. She
pushed Jameson on her back.

“Don’t you have to go?” Jameson breathed.
“What about your phone call?”

“I need another moment with you,” Devon
whispered, “and I know my mother would approve me taking it.”

* * * *

Later Jameson wrapped Devon in a blanket and
set her outside by the stream. She packed the tent and snuffed the
embers of last night’s fire, all the while casting Devon concerned
glances. As she loaded up the trailer she noticed it there, perched
in a tree above the path where she had parked her four-wheeler.

The owl gazed down at her its eyes gleaming
with wisdom Jameson hadn’t recognized on their previous meetings.
Given the owl’s presence, she understood the nature of Devon’s
call.

“Her mother is dying,” Jameson muttered to
herself.

We are from the earth and to the earth, we
return. All the emotional stuff
binds us to our mortal
bodies.

Jameson’s eyes grew wide and she stumbled
backward. The owl winked at her and extended its brilliant
wings.

“Doc?” Jameson asked “Mom?”

Love did find you.

The owl winked again and took off with a fuss
and a flourish, dropping a feather from its tail. Jameson watched
the owl, with tear filled eyes, as it soared into the sky.

My spirit is alive and well. You will cure
her mother. You already know how.

Jameson gasped and gulped in the winter air.
She felt the grip on her heart release. She dropped to the ground
and sobbed, enveloped in the warm glow of Doc Jo Jo’s essence. Hers
was a spirit like no other.

Moon appeared at Jameson’s side and nudged
her, bringing her back to the matter at hand. Jameson knew from her
own experience what Devon was about to face, and it was not going
to be easy. She picked up the owl feather, a blessed gift, and knew
it was time for her to learn more of its mystery. The time had come
for her to study the potent owl medicine, to gain ancient knowledge
and wisdoms. Jameson was ready to learn the high magic. Her mother
just said so.

The ride back to Elk’s Pass Sundries was grim
and solemn. Even Moon was gloomy, not responding to the deer they
passed on the trail. Devon clutched Jameson around the waist, her
cheek pressed against Jameson’s back. Jameson felt her body heaving
as she sobbed, and cried, too.

They dismounted the four-wheeler and entered
the store. Jameson helped Devon up the stairs. She rushed down and
told Lauren the tragic news. She grabbed a duffle bag to pack a few
special mementos for Devon. She wrote a quick note and put the bag
in the back seat of the Range Rover. She went back upstairs to help
Devon gather her things.

She found her sitting on the couch with Moon
draped across her lap. Jameson joined them, dropping an arm over
Devon’s shoulder.

“My mother has Lupus,” Devon revealed. “Do
you know what that is?”

“Yes,” Jameson nodded.

“I have a feeling you somehow already knew,
didn’t you?”