Long Snows Moon (19 page)

“Yes. I’m sorry. I know how hard this
is.”

Devon squeezed her thigh. “I know you
do.”

“Are you going to be okay to drive?”

“I guess so,” Devon sighed. “I need the time
to prepare myself for when I see her. They’re in Florida.”

Jameson hugged her. “That’s quite a
drive.”

Devon nodded and swiped at a fresh tear.

“Life is a circle. We will meet again.”

They shared a long embrace and stared at each
other for a while taking in the details of the other’s face.

“You have changed me,” Devon whispered. “When
I started this journey I didn’t know where I was going, but I guess
my heart and soul knew.”

“Always follow your heart and you will always
find me, from this life to the next.” They shared a final kiss.
Jameson assisted her downstairs and out the kitchen door.

She helped Devon into the car and leaned
against her window. “Take the wisdoms from your journey and apply
them to your life. You will find strength and courage within
yourself that you didn’t know you had. Believe that. Good bye, for
now, Shadow Wolf.”

Jameson went to the passenger side to say
good-bye to Moon.
Bring her back to me, and try not to wait
another ten years.

* * * *

Moon howled as Devon drove away, unable to
look back one final time. Moon jumped in the rear hatch and barked
at Jameson until she disappeared from view. She joined Devon up
front and settled down in her seat. Occasionally, she placed her
paw on Devon’s arm and stared at her with troubled eyes. It was at
those times Devon realized she had been sobbing aloud.

Devon was apprehensive to see her mother.
Although she was eager to hear her voice, Devon knew it was not the
right time to call. She hoped she would find the emotional
fortitude to be brave, and not break down when she did see her.
Devon wanted to be strong for her and help ease the terror she must
be feeling. The dichotomy of her emotions was confusing, not to
mention that waves of guilt that assaulted her when she found
herself thinking about Jameson instead of the tragic nature of her
new journey.

Her recent experience changed her and made
her feel brand new in the world. Her life with Trevor was lived by
someone else. Memories of him were like a book she read long ago,
fragmented and difficult to recall. Even her father was an
acquaintance she would hardly recognize on the street. Since her
mother and Claire left their homes, she had no reason to return to
the place she called home. She wanted nothing from her house except
the painting by Raven Song. Trevor could have it all.

She drove until the sun began to set behind
them and found a motel off the highway. She smiled as she passed a
sign that read Bear Lake. She thought of Mudjewkeewis and his soft
words whispered in the wind. He was right. It was time for her to
come out of hibernation. The great sleep had ended and she was not
groggy in the least. She felt saturated in courage and strength.
She knew her own heart and was now comfortable knowing who she
was.

They checked in, again in a room in the back.
Devon settled Moon on the bed.

“I’m going to get our stuff from the car,
I’ll be right back,” she told Moon.

Moon barked once and snuggled down on the
pillows.

Devon retrieved her things, intrigued to find
the duffle bag. She peeked inside and knew Jameson placed it there.
She brought it back upstairs and put it on the bed, as tickled as a
child on Christmas morning.

She read the note. I wish you strength in
this difficult part of your walk. Remember, family should be
honored, in whatever its form. Forgiveness is a powerful virtue.
Walk the wheel and you will see. I sent along a special tea for
your mother. It is the Periwinkle Persimmon. It will help with her
fatigue. It is for her and her alone. I have also packed some
things for you and Moon. I hope they comfort you. Until we meet
again. J.

Devon folded the note, tucked it between the
pages of her totem book, and placed it on the night table. She knew
she would read it twenty more times before the night was
through.

She pulled out the Navajo blanket and wrapped
it around her. The scent of last night’s passion was faint but
evident. Devon breathed it in and used the blanket to brush away
her unexpected tears.

Jameson packed an enormous piece of beef
jerky for Moon. Devon gave it to her and watched, amused, as she
made a grand fuss of trying to rip it apart.

The next item she extracted was a bag of
Sleep, the herbal tea Jameson gave her to ease her pain and allow
her battered body its much-needed rest. She found the pouch of
Periwinkle Persimmon for her mother and smiled at how thoughtful
Jameson was. The last thing was the lavender t-shirt she’d loaned
Devon the day before. Wrapped inside the t-shirt was a lovely
hand-carved flute. It was embossed with the same intricacies as the
walking stick. Love and honor were apparent in the details. Seven
buffalo whittled from mouthpiece to end. Devon put it to her lips
delighted by the purity of the tone. She played for a while, lost
in the reverie of the mystical melody that channeled through her.
She closed her eyes and saw herself on a vast plane, seated on a
flat rock as a herd of buffalo grazed nearby. She played for them
as they watched her with drowsy eyes, knowing her song was for
them, thanking them for their selfless contribution to mother
earth.

As she played, Devon began to understand the
meaning of self-sacrifice. Although she sacrificed much in the
past, including her own happiness, it now bore a deeper, more
significant meaning. To give you must give of your whole self. You
must be wholesome in your desire to nourish and sustain. Devon
understood this now. She also understood what the buffalo meant
when she spoke of the North being the darkest part of the day, the
time between midnight and dawn. It was the time between life and
death. Her mother now faced the darkest part of day. Devon now knew
buffalo magic. She would now be learning the practice of healing.
Her mother always delighted in Devon’s musical gift, something
Devon didn’t often share. Music possessed soothing charms. Devon
would play for her mother soon.

She set her new flute aside and picked up the
lavender t-shirt. That too held the distinct aroma of Jameson and
the store. It smelled like the color it was with a hint of vanilla
and lemongrass. She breathed in the wonderful smells as she
rummaged through her bags for Moon’s brush. She sat on the bed and
rolled Moon on her back.

“Come on, sleepy-head, you’ve got burrs and
mats all over your belly.”

Moon growled but let Devon brush her. She
yipped or snapped at Devon when she pulled too hard.

“You have some terrible manners lately.
You’ve never growled at me and now you want to use your teeth?”

Moon whined and covered her eyes.

“I understand. Maybe the wolves awakened your
natural nature. And to that I can relate.”

Moon barked in agreement.

“You are filthy, though. No one would ever
think you were my dog. It’s downright embarrassing. You should see
yourself,” Devon teased.

Moon barked twice and hid her head under a
pillow.

“I’m not looking the part of the wealthy
socialite either, I look like a cavewoman.”

Moon barked once. She sat up on the bed and
snatched the brush from Devon’s hand.

“Give it back, Moon,” Devon warned. “Let me
get the mats out of your tail.”

Moon dashed off the bed and into the
bathroom. Devon heard the toilet flush and smiled to herself. When
she peeked into the bathroom, she laughed aloud as Moon stood
watching the water swirl around the brush.

“It’s too big to go down,” Devon ribbed
her.

Moon flushed it again and barked
encouragingly at the brush.

“All right, you made your point,” Devon told
her. “No more brushing, but you do need a bath.”

Moon barked twice.

“Yes, you do.”

Moon hurried from the bathroom.

“I’m getting in first, but you are next,
young lady,” Devon warned.

Moon barked twice from the other room.

Devon undressed and stepped into a hot
shower. She heard the toilet flush and she suffered a blast of cold
water. She yanked back the shower curtain and saw Moon sitting
there, poised to flush again.

“You better not!”

Moon’s bark was defiant.

“I mean it, Moon.”

Moon hit the lever anyway and dashed from the
bathroom. Devon heard her dive onto the king size bed.

“Payback is hell, Moon. Don’t think you’re
sleeping in bed with me, dirty girl,” Devon yelled.

By the time Devon was finished with her
shower and prepared to carry out her threat, Moon was asleep.

Devon put on Jameson’s t-shirt and slid in
beside her. She turned off the bedside lamp and allowed her
thoughts to drift to the stream where she and Jameson slept. Her
mind wandered and soon her spirit followed, up and away. She
imagined herself next to Jameson on the bank of the stream.
Together in silence, they watched the night sky.

There are many realms and realities.

* * * *

Jameson found herself by the stream bathed in
twilight. She’d rekindled last night’s fire and it crackled behind
her. It was a beautiful time of day, the time associated with
Mudjewkeewis, the West.

She relaxed on the bank of the stream and
listened to the sounds around her. She knew they were watching her,
ready to come should she call. Jameson hoped the owl would return,
but knew on a deeper level that it would not. She closed her eyes,
listened to the lilting sound of the flute, and smiled.

Every piece of art she created imbued with a
deep impression of her own spirit. She traveled through the pieces
of wood or canvas she touched. She’d always had the ‘gift of
sight’, as her mother called it, but rarely encouraged it. She had
known of Devon’s impending arrival yet the details surrounding it
had been vague. She hadn’t expected Moon to drop seventy feet, into
her lap. Moon had certainly been true to her word and brought Devon
back.

The darkening sky moved her. Now, she offered
her thanks to Wakan Tanka. She asked for wisdom, direction, and
knowledge. A question plagued her mind, but it was not one for
Wakan Tanka. It was a question for her mother. She waited,
reclining by the stream, as the hours moved by. She took a stone
from her medicine wheel and held it to her heart. The stone
represented the Harvest Moon. She put herself in that placement of
the wheel. She extended her arm and felt a warm hand clutch her
own. Together, they lounged by the stream, lovers holding hands.
Together in spirit, they watched the night sky as the clouds
drifted by.

Jameson received her answer in the breeze.
Your true love has found you.

Chapter Nineteen

Devon got up before
dawn, hoping to get to Tarpon Springs by the next evening. Last
night’s beef jerky worked its way through Moon’s system and was
causing real havoc. Devon had to pull over often for Moon to
relieve herself.

Devon found a beautiful place to stop, a
scenic point for taking photos, with a breathtaking view of the
painted land. Beyond it was a stand of trees. Devon watched Moon go
into the trees for privacy. She waited for her on a bench and
welcomed the breaking dawn. She noticed an electricity pole a few
feet away and on top of the pole was a giant bird’s nest. Devon
spied a bird peering from the nest. It watched Devon with great
interest, as if gauging a new species of animal. It sailed into the
morning sky, showing off its brilliant wings. Devon watched it soar
to an unimaginable altitude, before disappearing into the
clouds.

Devon knew this bird was a golden eagle. It
was dawn, the time of Wabun, spirit keeper of the east. She
extended her hands to the sky, knowing the eagle had the ability to
take messages to the Creator. Devon felt infused with energy and
vigor. She now had clarity of mind and traveled with the eagle,
within the eagle, until she was able to relay her own message to
Wakan Tanka.

When she finished her flight, she turned to
see Moon waiting for her in the Range Rover, watching her. She
seemed enchanted by Devon’s pose.

Devon felt her message received. She joined
Moon in the car and resumed their journey. She never felt more
connected to the earth before, never as disconnected from her own
physical body. She felt clean and pure, baptized in the white light
of illumination. Not bad for someone who didn’t believe in God.

As she pulled back onto the highway, Devon
noticed the raven on the bench. She waved to it. It flapped its
wings as if greeting her.

Chapter Twenty

Claire slipped out
of bed without disturbing Analise. She tiptoed down the stairs. She
drew a heavy sigh and put on a pot of coffee. The energy in their
new home was muddy and dark. Claire hoped Devon’s arrival would
bring a spark back to Analise. Since she delivered the horrible
news to Claire, Analise dropped her façade.

Lupus nephritis. Analise had the strain of
Lupus that shuts down the kidneys. Modern medicine had no cure.
Claire’s job was to maintain and monitor the symptoms. Claire knew
she wasn’t the best caretaker in the world. Devon would be an
enormous help.

She sat at the kitchen table with her coffee
and dialed Devon’s phone. Devon answered on the first ring.

“Mom?”

“No, me,” Claire replied.

“How is she?”

“She’s sleeping now. How close are you?”

“I should be there by dinner time,” Devon
guessed.

“You’ll stay awhile?”

“Of course. She must really love you.”

“I suppose she does,” Claire agreed.

“I don’t know why,” Devon said.

“I wonder sometimes,” Claire, sighed. “I’ll
have your room ready, I’m sure you’ll be exhausted.”