It Sleeps in Me (12 page)

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Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me
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TOUCHES CLOUDS HELD HIS COUSIN’S NEW RED CHERT KNIFE to his heart and smiled as he trotted down the twilight trail toward his secret hiding place beneath the rotting log. His cousin, Sharp Nose, had left the knife in plain sight and walked out his door, leaving Touches Clouds alone with it. Of course he’d taken it. Sharp Nose was a stupid boy. He didn’t deserve to have a knife like this. Touches Clouds was a much better hunter and fisherman. He
needed
the knife. Besides, even though he’d wanted it badly, he’d left Sharp Nose’s magnificent ritual knife, the knife his cousin used in sacred ceremonials.
Parting the hanging moss, he stopped to look around. It had been raining off and on all day. The dwindling gray light sparkled on the wet leaves of the palmettos and created a lacy veil in the moss. Twenty paces ahead, the rotting log fell across the trail like a huge dark arm.
Joyous, he raced to it, removed the rock that covered his stolen prizes, and carefully tucked the new knife into his collection. It looked beautiful resting alongside the other knives and surrounded by his precious beads and bits of pounded copper. More
than anything, he loved sitting here touching them, looking at them. If only he could …
Whimpers came from the forest to his left.
Touches Clouds jerked around to look, but as he did so, crying started on his right.
He leaped to his feet and spun around in a circle. It was getting very dark now. He couldn’t see anyone, but other people began crying. Children, men, and women out in the trees.
“Who’s there?” he called in panic, and backed up to block the sight of his collection beneath the log. If anyone saw this …
Shadows moved.
All around him, the hanging moss swayed, as though being parted by dozens of hands.
One by one, they stepped out. His young cousins came first, their eyes filled with tears as they walked toward him. Each carried a knife in his hand. Behind them his mother and father emerged carrying baskets, then his uncles and aunts. Finally, his grandparents and Matron Wink and Chieftess Sora stepped out.
Terrified, he tried to run, but they closed the circle around him. All of them were crying now, loudly. It sounded like a funeral. His mother wept so hard she might have been suffocating.
His four cousins came forward with their knives and tucked them into his clothing. Two went in his belt, two in his sandal lacings. Touches Clouds looked down. They were his cousins’ best knives! They had given him their most valued possessions—their ritual knives! Sobbing, they backed away and walked out into the forest while his mother and father, uncles and aunts came forward. They formed a very tight ring around him. Each placed a basket at Touches Clouds’ feet. When he looked inside them, his mouth gaped. His mother’s basket contained the precious hair comb her great-grandmother had given her just before she’d died. Mother loved that comb! She’d once said that losing it would tear her souls from her body!
Touches Clouds’ Uncle Cooter knelt in front of him and spread his arms wide, in a warrior’s gesture of surrender, and the other adults joined him, spreading their arms, their fingers touching.
It’s a Healing Circle. Blessed Ancestors! They think I’m soul-sick!
The thought shocked him. He knew he shouldn’t take things—his uncles had told him often enough—but it had never occurred to him that he might be sick! He started to tremble. Sometimes, he did feel like an evil Spirit lived inside him—maybe that’s why he had to take things that didn’t belong to him? Did his family care so much about his illness that they would give him their most precious belongings to keep him from stealing them?
“Mother?” he said in a quaking voice. “Am I sick?”
“Yes, my son.” She wept and reached out to touch his hand. “You are. We love you very much. Sit down. Let us Heal you.”
His relatives joined their arms around him in one enormous embrace. As their tears fell upon his face and shoulders, he suddenly understood how much he’d hurt them, how much they wanted him to get well. It was as though the water falling from their eyes cleansed his souls and forced out the evil Spirit that made him do bad things. He could feel it. It flew away into the darkness like a poisoned arrow. His heart hurt as though a huge hole had opened in it. He shouted, “I’m sorry! Mother, I’m sorry! Father, I’m sorry!”
Matron Wink and Chieftess Sora stood up.
Matron Wink lifted a bag of corn pollen and sprinkled it over Touches Clouds’ head while she sang the Healing Song:
A long way to go,
A long way to climb,
A long way to Skyholder’s arms,
But no evil can enter that embrace.
Skyholder, never let this boy go.
Keep him close to your heart,
As we will. Always.
We will keep Touches Clouds close to our hearts,
And no evil will enter him.
Climb now, Touches Clouds; climb into our arms.
He lunged to embrace each person around him, sobbing, “I’m sorry, Uncles! Aunts!”
Chieftess Sora hesitated, and all eyes turned to her as she pulled a “brilliant looker” pendant from around her own throat and draped it over Touches Clouds’ head. It rested against his chest like an enormous coiling serpent.
“Never take this off, Touches Clouds,” she softly instructed, and petted his hair. “It will protect you if the evil Spirit tries to come back.”
He grabbed her hard around the neck and wept. “Thank you, Chieftess. I’ll be good now. I swear it!”
Far off in the trees, he saw a shadow move. The man just stood there.
Watching.
SORA REMAINED BEHIND IN THE DEEPENING VEIL OF DUSK, allowing Wink to lead the Healing Procession back to Blackbird Town, where Touches Clouds’ family would have a small private feast to celebrate his Healing. If she followed them, someone in town would see her and feel compelled to stop to discuss the boy’s future or some other clan issue that needed her attention. She longed to avoid that.
After the day’s events, she had begun to wonder if perhaps she, too, wasn’t soul-sick. There had been a moment during the Healing Circle when she’d felt her own souls lighten, as though the Midnight Fox had lifted his ugly head and begun to leach out, draining away like water through a cracked pot. But before he could fly away, he had hardened into a black lump that settled in her belly like bad food.
She sank down atop the rotted log where Touches Clouds had hidden his stolen treasures, lifted her cold hands, and rubbed her temples.
“Blessed gods,” she whispered aloud. “I think I’m in trouble. Maybe I really do need Teal’s advice.”
In the distance, the forest murmured with talk. It was soothing, the voices warm and concerned, not the usual banter of people going about their evening duties. She could make out Wink’s voice, then Touches Clouds’ voice. For the next few days, Wink would be responsible for monitoring Touches Clouds to make sure the evil did not sneak back inside him.
Sora lowered her hands and studied them in the gray light. The first Star People had awakened, and their gleam silvered her fingers. They looked like her hands, but they felt like someone else’s. Memories of the different textures of Skinner’s body seemed to be locked in her tingling fingertips.
And I cherish each one.
She clenched her fists to keep those precious memories from slipping away.
A cool breeze meandered through the forest, shoving the hanging moss back and forth.
His voice came to her very softly: “I thought you might stay behind to think about what happened today.”
Sora’s spine prickled. She turned.
For what seemed an eternity she gazed across the ten paces that separated them, into his starlit eyes. She must have been little more than a pale shadow against the darkening background of trees, but he seemed to see her perfectly. He never blinked.
She rose from the log, and as though they’d both planned it, they hurried through the palmettos to step into each other’s arms. All that existed was his mouth on hers, sweet with the tastes of roasted catfish and plum jam.
“I think I’m going mad. I crave you constantly, Skinner. I can’t—”
“We’re both mad, Sora. We always have been.” He smiled against her lips. “Ask anyone.”
He’s right. Neither of us has been sane since the day we met.
Her fingers dug into his broad back, and she clutched him more
tightly. The hot river that flooded through her left every hair on her body flaming. Their mouths collided violently.
I called him Skinner. Didn’t he notice? Why didn’t he correct me?
By the time they parted, panting, to get a few breaths into their starving lungs, they were both shaking, and his eyes were filled with tears.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her as though he would never let go. “Sora.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his voice from breaking. “You asked to talk with me, so he’s giving me a few moments. That’s all.”
She pushed back and stared up in confusion. “Who? Who’s giving you a few moments?”
“He—he’s very Powerful. I can’t come out unless he allows it. So, please,
please listen to me
!” He stroked her hair with a trembling hand. “He was right when he told you that I loved you. It was agony for me when the two of you were married. You hurt each other so much, and I always thought that if it were me you were married to—as it should have been—I would have petted you and protected you. I would never have hurt you.”
She gazed up into his tormented face. His demeanor had completely changed. The strong, forceful person she’d loved that morning was gone, replaced by this tender, much too sensitive man. Fear spread its wings in her chest.
“
Listen to me!
” he said, and shook her. “
He truly is trying to help you. Do as he says.
Do exactly
as Flint says. He knows what you did, and he’s working very hard to—
” His head snapped back as though he’d been slapped. He stumbled.
She lunged to grab his arm before he fell. “Skinner? What do you mean Flint knows what I did?”
Through gritted teeth, he ordered, “He told me everything, Sora. Just this once, let him help you. You need his help desperately.”
“Why? What’s—”
“
Stop playing the fool! We know the truth, Sora!”
He took her shoulders in a painful grip. “Soon everyone will know. Do you understand? All of your dark secrets are about to be revealed. Go home. Go home and prepare yourself.”
He shoved her hard in the direction of Blackbird Town and ran away through the forest like a man fleeing a war party. Branches and twigs cracked in his wake.
WHEN SORA LEFT HER HOUSE LATER THAT NIGHT, THUNDER rumbled in the distance. She’d talked Wink into dismissing Far Eye, and with Rockfish gone, there was no one to see her as she walked down the wet steps. Every house around Persimmon Lake was dark and quiet. Only the frogs serenaded the darkness. She pulled up the hood of her goose-feather cape and trotted toward Teal’s mound. Orange firelight gleamed above his smoke hole. He must still be awake.
Elaborate paintings decorated the clay-plastered walls of the Priest’s House: life-size images of Dancing Birdmen, mountain lions with the feet of eagles, and coiled snakes with human smiles. His house was separated into two chambers. In the front, a small private room opened into the charnel house—the place where he prepared the dead for the journey to the afterlife. Row upon row of clean dry bones rested on the wall shelves. Tucked into ceramic pots, or wrapped in cloth bundles, they represented the last remains of the elite rulers of Blackbird Town. Sora frequently came here to seek advice from her mother’s eye-soul, the soul that remained with the body forever.
As she neared the door curtain, she called, “Teal? Are you awake?”
A hoarse old voice answered, “Yes, I’ve been waiting for you.”
She ducked beneath the curtain and found him sitting on a mat before his fire, sipping a cup of tea. The interior walls also bore the life-size images of the gods. He seemed to paint a new one every winter, and now a crowd of divine eyes gazed down upon her.
Teal rose to his feet. His bald head and age-bowed back reminded her of a plucked bird. “Please join me, Chieftess,” he said, and gestured to the mat across the fire.
Sora knelt on the mat and shifted uncomfortably. “I need your help.”
“I know that better than you do.” His eyes glowed whitely in the firelight as he filled and handed her a cup of tea. “Drink this,” he ordered. “It will help to cleanse you.”
She took it and watched him gingerly lower himself to the mat again. He wore a coarsely woven white robe that hung over the skeletal frame of his body. The knobs of his shoulders resembled knots beneath the fabric.
“He’s already coaxed you into his arms, hasn’t he?” Teal asked.
She swallowed hard and whispered, “How did you know?”
“I could see it on your face when you returned from the forest. Did your husband know?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Then you are more fortunate than you deserve. But take care with Matron Wink. She knows you better than Rockfish does. What are you going to say when she questions you?”
Sora clutched her cup in both hands. “I’m going to lie.”
He nodded, and his bald head shook on the slender stem of his neck. “Yes, that’s how it generally goes. You’ll lie to her, and to your husband, and to anyone else who might suspect. Then you’ll meet him in the forest again. Sooner or later, someone will see you.”
Her face felt hot, prickly. “No, Teal, I swear to you—”
“I’ve seen seventeen shadow-souls in my life, Chieftess. I tried to
observe each very carefully, because I knew I would be called upon to cast him out of the body he inhabited. Usually, I could do it. Do you remember the three people your mother ordered killed when she was trying to stop Blue Manatee’s soul from jumping around the bodies of his family?”
“I remember them very well.”
“Blue Manatee was a strong one. Stronger than me.” Teal sucked his lips in over his toothless gums and stared at the fire as though distastefully remembering the battles. “I couldn’t help them because they wanted Blue Manatee inside them.”
“I don’t understand. Why would someone—”
“Don’t lie to me. You do understand. I wasn’t just fighting Blue Manatee. He only entered people who loved him so much they would have done anything to keep him alive. I had to fight to get him to leave, and to get them to let him go. I wasn’t strong enough to fight all of them.”
She stared at him. “They wanted to keep him alive?”
“Of course. Just as you want to keep Flint alive. Everyone has his own reason for committing spiritual suicide. Blue Manatee’s wife couldn’t imagine life without him; his daughter loved him very much; I think his brother wanted his power and wisdom. To have him close, to talk with him for the rest of their lives, they were willing to give up their own bodies.”
She sat up straighter. “Teal, how does a person know that a shadow-soul has entered her body?”
He tilted his head, and his white-filmed eyes flashed. “Eventually, you realize that two people are looking out your eyes.”
“Eventually?”
“It depends on how clever they are. Shadow-souls are frail at first. If they think you will fight them, they rest for a time inside you, days or even moons, while they gather their strength. That’s when the fight begins.”
“The fight?”
“The fight to keep your body as your own. Blue Manatee’s wife
didn’t realize what had happened for three days. She thought her reflection-soul had begun to wander the forest. Finally, he spoke to her, telling her not to be afraid. He told her he was using her, but that he loved her very much and would never hurt her. What would you do if you heard Flint’s voice say that?”
Three winters ago, she would have cherished the idea that he was alive inside her. They would have been closer than ever possible while they inhabited two separate bodies. But now …
“I’d be terrified, Teal.”
“Would you?”
His harsh tone made her go rigid. “Yes.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.” He gave her a small smile. “When will you see him again?”
Startled, she said, “After what you just told me, I’ll never see him again.”
Teal rose to his feet and crossed the chamber to a wooden box that rested beneath his sleeping bench. As he tugged it out, he said, “You must.”
“But I don’t want to.”
The damp leather hinges squealed when he opened it. Wrapped in purple cloth, a small pot sealed with a wooden stopper lay on top. “I want you to give him a pinch of this.”
Teal carried the pot over and handed it to her. She smelled the stopper; it had an acrid scent. “What is it?”
“The juice of fermented hominy mixed with bloodroot.”
Sora stiffened. “But that’s poison. Won’t that kill Skinner?”
“One pinch isn’t enough to kill, but it will make him very ill. When the vomiting is over, he will long to sleep. If Flint is in command, it will give War Chief Skinner a chance to take control of his own body again. That will help us.”
“How?”
“Presumably Skinner wants Flint gone as much as we do. Once Skinner is back in control, I will start giving him a series of strong
potions; it will still be a difficult battle, but at least we will have a chance of casting him out.”
He flicked a hand at her. “Now leave. You’re supposed to meet him tonight, aren’t you? Didn’t he tell you where?”
The eastern end of the bluff …
“How did you know that?”
“All shadow-souls have a single goal, Chieftess: They want to find someone who will cherish having them inside. He thinks you are that person. That’s why he came to you. He can’t afford to waste time. Nor can you.” He pointed a crooked finger at the door.
She tucked the pot into her belt pouch and uneasily got to her feet.
Teal peered up with nearly blind eyes. “Hurry. I’m sure he’s waiting.”

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