Long Snows Moon (3 page)

The day was at hand. Jameson waited in the
woods and tried to quiet her mind. She double-checked her ear for
blood and wondered if Two Stars would make an appearance.

The Standing People grouped in a semi-circle
forming a tidy alcove in the woods. Their leaves rustled telling
tales that only the creatures of the forest and Jameson could hear.
A fish jumped in the stream before her and Jameson smiled. She
glanced behind her for Mudjewkeewis.

Be still.

Jameson obeyed the raven. She closed her eyes
and extended her arms with her palms tilted toward the sky. When
the sun moved overhead, Jameson felt the warmth enter her hands.
Her heart beat like a hummingbird was trapped in her chest.

“Is it going to hurt?”

Pain is subjective, child

She gasped when twin bolts of lightning
struck her palms. She saw the flash of light even with her eyes
shut. She clenched her teeth until the pain subsided. The sensation
flowed through her arms and throughout her body. She thought of
molasses, thick and sweet.

The rustling behind her stopped. Jameson felt
a thousand eyes upon her, from above, below, all around her. The
animals had all come to observe, silent and breathless.

Jameson sighed as colors ran through her. A
warm breeze delivered sweet smell of flowers in bloom. Jameson
inhaled and smiled. She didn’t know what this gift was but the
sensation washed over her with pure love. Wakan Tanka moved through
her, The Great Mystery, God. She felt the presence glowing inside
her.

Jameson felt as though someone discovered
every tickle spot on her body. When she opened her eyes, she gasped
as dozens of butterflies adorned her like a colorful shroud. They
covered her arms, her head, and her hands. One even garnished the
tip of her nose. She remembered the story her mother told her of
the first butterfly and knew her gift was God’s pure love.

“Thank you, Wakan Tanka!” she cried. The
butterflies danced around her before they scattered and
disappeared.

Two Stars attended. She felt him hiding
within the trees. She was eager for his approval. She jumped up
giggling and unsteady. In her haste, she stumbled and fell to her
knees. As she tried to stand, she found herself on all fours. She
found his eyes.

“Did you see that?” Jameson whispered. “Did
you see my gift?”

His gaze was stern and paternal.
I
witnessed your transformation. However, you will question whether
it is a gift
when you learn the nature of your dark
destiny.

“What do you mean?”

Stay strong, young Raven Song.

* * * *

Jameson dashed along her well-worn path
through the woods, sweaty and eager to tell Doc Jo Jo about her
experience. She burst from the clutter of trees in anticipation of
finding her mother in her garden fussing over her plants.

“Mom!” she cried, spying the greenhouse door
open she rushed inside to deliver the news. “Mom, guess what?”

The greenhouse was empty. On the pruning
table was an almost full glass of tea.

“Mom!” Jameson hollered out the door in the
direction of their tourist shop. She smelled smoke from the
fireplace. Her mother must have put some fresh wood on because it
was sending up some mighty signals.

“Mom,” she hollered again, “I received my
gift.”

You have work to do, child.
A voice
instructed from inside the greenhouse.

Jameson was reluctant, but went back inside
the greenhouse. She shuffled to the back of the long structure as
if she were to about to receive a punishment. She hesitated where
the bright room became shadowy.

“What work?”

The owl blinked from its dim corner.

“Aren’t you nocturnal?” Jameson sassed.

I move in varying shades of dark.

Her arms became goose-flesh. She shivered and
gulped back her fear. Jameson faced both bear and wolf but never
felt this dread.

“Dark is dark, there are no varying shades.
You shouldn’t be in here, my mother will be mad.”

Go, child, and see about your task.

Jameson turned from the bird and raced down
the corridor of plants and out the greenhouse door. She sprinted
for the comfort and safety of the woods, but on the path before her
was a rattlesnake with a head the size of her hand and tail that
said he was angry.

Without fear, Jameson observed the snake’s
beautiful markings. “You’re a Mojave, a mighty venomous creature.
I’m sure my mother has anti-venom because she is a medicine woman,
but I still don’t want you to bite me. If you let me pass, we may
meet again another time and share some wisdom. Right now, I have a
task to do. I don’t know what it is yet, but I do.”

The snake dropped its dangerous pose and
Jameson skirted it at a safe distance.

“Thank you,” Jameson told it.

A hawk circled above them and before the
snake found refuge in the woods, it dove from the sky and grabbed
it in its mighty talons. It scooped up the snake, writhing and
striking, into the sky.

“No!” Jameson yelled at the hawk.

She screamed when the snake struck the hawk
in the chest. She stood rooted and wide-eyed as the animals tumbled
from the sky. The hawk and the snake landed at her feet with a thud
and a cloud of dust.

Jameson dragged her hands through her hair,
frantic and unsure of what to do. Both animals were motionless. She
bit her lip as she approached the hawk. She grimaced at the
saltiness of her own blood. She found a nearby stick and poked the
bird. It raised its head and opened its beak to cry out.

Jameson dropped to her knees and put her
hands on the bird. Her hands grew hot and the bird responded.
“Don’t die, please don’t die, you shouldn’t have to die for a meal
to keep you alive. It’s not fair!”

Jameson cradled the hawk. “You can live if
you want to. You can fly.” She trembled as she raised the bird
above her head. She wavered under its weight and was cautious with
its talons

“Fly,” Jameson encouraged. “Try to fly!”

The hawk took a ragged breath, flapped its
glorious wings, and left Jameson staring at it in stunned silence
as it soared toward the clouds. A feather drifted down and Jameson
let it fall onto her open palm.

My feather is a gift from Wakan Tanka. In it
is the understanding that you must follow this path. There will be
signs all around you, child, take notice and listen well.

“But I don’t understand!” Jameson wailed,
frowning at the feather.

When Doc Jo Jo found her holding the snake,
dusk cast shadows over Elk’s Pass Sundries. Jameson felt her mother
pry the creature from hands, dry the tears from her face and
explained to Jameson how her hands worked.

Chapter Four

Moon led Jameson
through a path in the trees, sniffing the ground, hungry for her
master’s scent. The path opened to the steep embankment, Jameson
spotted the Range Rover on the bridge. Moon saw it too. She
struggled to climb the bank but it was too precipitous to get a
proper foothold even with four feet.

“This way, it’s not as steep here.”

Moon joined her and together they hustled up
the embankment.

“Stay with me,” she called, as Moon dashed
ahead.

Moon didn’t wait. She stood and pawed at the
driver’s door.

“You would be unstoppable with opposable
thumbs,” Jameson grinned as she joined Moon.

Jameson peered through the Range Rover’s
tinted glass. “This is one nice car,” she muttered. She tried the
driver’s door, shocked to find it unlocked.

The smell of bourbon was overwhelming and the
driver’s seat was sticky. She noticed the purse and rescued it from
the damp floorboard. Moon jumped in over her and got in the
backseat, sniffing and barking.

Jameson replaced the items that toppled from
the purse and fished around for a wallet. She pulled out a fancy
snakeskin that contained an astonishing number of credit cards and
cash.

“I knew you had a wealthy family,” she said
to Moon. She found the driver’s license.

“Devon,” Jameson breathed. “Shadow Wolf.”

Moon barked and stomped her foot.

“Wow, Shadow Wolf is your owner.”

Moon barked once and with vehemence.

“So beautiful,” Jameson smiled, remembering.
“But not so good on the icy roads.” She found the cola can and
smelled it. “Drinking and driving, not a good idea anyway,
downright reckless on Elk’s Pass Bridge this time of year.”

She assessed the interior of the car, stunned
to find the keys still in the ignition.

“There’s no sign she’s been hurt,” she
announced. She found a flashlight in the rear hatch and trained it
along the passenger side of the vehicle. It was obvious what
happened and how the impact tossed Moon out of the open window.

“You’re one tough pup,” Jameson noted,
trailing the beam down the embankment. “That’s quite a fall,
seventy feet I’d say. My guess is Devon went down there looking for
you.”

Moon stood and peered over the railing. She
looked at Jameson and whined.

“Don’t worry, she won’t be hard to find. I
know this area like the back of my hand. After all it’s my own
backyard.”

Moon barked in clear agreement.

“I think I should get her car off the road,
take it back to my place. It’s not safe here.”

Moon jumped into the Range Rover and waited
for Jameson.

Moon seemed solemn as she sat next to
Jameson. Although familiar aromas surrounded her, she seemed more
forlorn than before. Jameson watched as Moon pressed the window
button with her paw and watched it go down. She watched it go back
up.

She looked over at Jameson and barked
twice.

“Sorry, Moon. Trust me. I grew up roaming
these woods. If she’s out there, I will find her.” She locked the
window and scratched Moon’s ears. “Do you trust me?”

Moon barked once.

Jameson drove the short distance back to the
store and parked the Range Rover in the back by the greenhouse. She
led Moon in through the back of the store and finished preparing
the hamburger from earlier. Jameson added some kava kava and mixed
in a few drops of Star of Bethlehem extract to help Moon deal with
her stressful day. She placed the plate on the floor.

“I’m going to grab a few supplies, enjoy your
dinner, and try to relax for a while, okay?”

Thank you, my sister.

“For what?”

You are generous to feed me. I like you
very much. You smell nice, like a fresh bath and the flowers Devon
always keeps on her night tables
.

Jameson sat on the kitchen floor next to
Moon, not surprised that she had spoken, only that it took her that
long to do it.

Your eyes are warm and kind, but in their
depths is immense sadness. I can see the sorrow. It clings to you
like a murky shadow. Sometimes, like when you were cooking the
hamburgers or inspecting Devon’s car, the sadness goes away, but
mostly it’s there.

“I guess I am sad,” Jameson admitted.

I would be fierce for you. I am not supposed
to be ferocious. I am not to show my teeth or to growl. Devon said
it is bad manners. I am a wild animal and that is sometimes my
nature.

“Yes, you are more wild than tame. You are a
high content hybrid although you don't look like it. I understand
it is difficult for you to suppress your feral temperament and I
apologize for domesticating your species. Do you understand
why?”

So humans can learn.

“That’s right.”

Jameson grinned at how daintily Moon ate.
“You do have very nice manners,” Jameson joked.

Thank you.

Moon followed Jameson through the swinging
door and left the kitchen to explore the store. Jameson watched as
she discovered the aisle with wonderful smelling herbs, candles and
incense, medicine pouches, crystals and books.

“I make those candles and dry and pack the
herbs myself.”

Jameson grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight from
behind the counter. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? I will be
back before you know it.”

Moon obeyed. She trotted up the stairs and
hopped onto the couch. Jameson looked up at her.

“Thank you for bringing her back.”

I promised I would, it just took longer than
I hoped. She is difficult to train. She clouds her mind with dirty
water.

“I will help her,” Jameson said.

Thank you, Raven Song.

Chapter Five

Jameson went out the
back door and tried to ignore the owl. She followed the path
between the store and the greenhouse into the woods. The wind died
down and as had the flurries. She trained her flashlight ahead and
traversed the well-worn path.

She hiked the trail countless times with
Berry armed with her camera and ready to shoot. The two would wait
until a rabbit or a raccoon or maybe a coyote would appear, so
Jameson could snap the photos she would paint later. As a rule,
Berry chased off her subjects by barking or leaping out from her
hiding spot to scare Jameson.

Jameson smiled at the memory but the sudden
pain swept the grin from her face. The tears she held back earlier
now flowed like a sudden summer shower. She caught her breath as if
punched in the stomach. The thought of Berry made Jameson drop to
her knees. A small sob escaped her and she doubled over on the
ground. She saw her mother’s face. It was a stranger’s face, stern,
and surreal with her head resting upon a ridiculous satin
pillow.

It was unusual timing but her grief bounded
into the boxing ring. After five years of suppression, Jameson was
in for a fight. Uppercut: Berry getting shot and the snow growing
red beneath her. Left hook: Finding her mother dead in her bed,
looking mystical in the candle’s glow. Right cross: Her mother’s
casket as it lowered into the earth and the sound of Jameson
tossing in the three ears of corn. Bang bang bang. Three bangs like
the sound of the three shots that killed Berry.