Native American Reservation, Northern California
The Oldsmobile pulls up into a cul-de-sac next to a couple of other older trucks and cars. The gravel kicks up one final time as the car lurches to a stop.
Roger looks over to you and smiles, “Time for you to stop napping my friend. Let’s get you set up and then we can go meet with the elders.”
“Thanks.” You open the door after what felt like an overnight car ride. After all, you just about made it one with all that sleeping you did. You take a great big breath and the cool, crisp air almost hurts your lungs after so long in smog filled Manhattan.
You cough from the sharp inhalation and hear Roger chuckle. “Careful. It’s quite fresh out here. The air will cut you like a knife. I promise you’ll grow to love it.”
Your coughing fit subsides and you feel the comforting hand of Mysticalis on your back. Myst gives you a comforting rub of the back, “I do hope we’ll find what you need here.”
“I’m sure we will. Even with nothing else, just getting away and having some time to think. It’ll help.”
The tall pines barely shadow the area. The log cabin looks archaic but well kept. The inside feels like nothing you’ve seen before. The mattress, the furniture, and the cookware all look custom made. There is a large rug across the wooden floor that has symbols in circular patterns that look as if you could probably read a story from them.
Myst throws its satchel next to the long couch that faces the door and rug and immediately plops down. Roger helps you with your luggage, setting it next to the bed with the handmade comforter.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. You’ll find all of the food and drink that you’ll need in the cabinets. Feel free to go outside, but please... don’t wander too far after dark. And no, there’s nothing too scary out there. Deep in any forest, there are predators, bears and the like. Make sure you take a flashlight with you. Bless you and take care while I’m gone.”
You nod and Roger is nodding back. “Thanks for your hospitality. I’m not sure how I can repay you.”
“No worries.” The door closes, and a few minutes later, you hear the Oldsmobile chew through gravel on its way back out of the parking area.
Mysticalis seems to already be sleeping on the couch and you decide to follow suit.
Hours later, you awaken to the smell of fresh, delicious meatloaf and root vegetables roasting. This is actually the first time you’ve seen Myst cook. Now that you think about it, it is also the first time, earlier, that you have seen Myst fully sleeping.
The small dining table soon fills with the bountiful feast. Mysticalis removes its cowl that gives it a human face, and you are again confronted with the utter beauty of the unicorn. Even the food and your hunger have a hard time distracting you from just staring across the table.
Myst clears its throat, “Shall I go and eat beyond your sight? Have I disturbed you? You need to eat.”
You shake your head vigorously. You could get used to this, really you could. You crack a wide, open mouthed smile as you blindly shove the first fork full in.
As your comfort level grows, you start telling it about your past, your friends, and family. You laugh about a couple of stories that always remain fond to you.
You stop part way through the second story, realizing that there is something strange and awkward to you about your own story. You scratch your head and don’t even realize how long it has been since you paused the story midway until Mysticalis asks about it.
You finish the last bite quickly and, grabbing the flashlight, make your way outside. The stars only barely light up the eerie, deep woods night. You hear the door opening behind you as you flick the flashlight on and shine it out onto the ground.
The voice from the door way echoes through the forest, “I believe I’m sensing something... uncomfortable about your outlook. I could... could be wrong. Never been well at telling these things.”
“Yes, something’s wrong. When I started. When I started talking about stories... stories that I feel so fondly about... it just doesn’t feel quite right. I’m... so out of my element.” You kick a small pile of gravel.
**
Fire Circle Overlooking the Pacific
You stand at the top of the small, pine covered hill. Below you, benches surround a rocky fire pit in a circular pattern. You can hear the waves crashing against distant rocks below. Mysticalis leaps up onto a bench and stands vigilant watch over the area. The elders of the tribe sit amongst the benches, just around the edge of the fire pit. Some old coals burn, just slightly, in the pit.
The elders are a combination of men and women, with one man actually being quite young. There are eight of them that all turn and look over to you and Myst. Strangely, Myst is not wearing his cowl, and even more strangely the elders look past him without hesitation. They actually all seem more interested in you.
The eldest of the group stand up and motions with a welcoming arm. He is wearing Levi’s and a thick fleece and wears his hair loose and long. “Please, come and have a seat.”
You notice that he motions to a fold out chair that leans against the rocks of the fire pit. The chair faces the benches, and you gulp as you feel like you are being set up for a trial or interrogation.
Though that is the way everything is setup, the welcoming spirit of these people makes it rather difficult to keep the malicious concept you start with in your imagination.
You sit down and gulp. The feeling of the hot coals on your back actually gets rid of the morning chill that had bothered you on the walk here. “So,” you rub your knees. “Hello there.”
“Welcome.” The elders all introduce themselves and the eight names just breeze over your head. You don’t remember a single one. They ask you to tell your story from the moment that you remember things going strange.
The younger elder stands and the others turn to hear his judgments, “It sounds as though you have walked through a waking dream. Dreams have a strange way about them. If you could analyze them with your waking mind, as you have, the strange seems to turn to nightmares.”
“I’m not even sure what you just said.” You shake your head, feeling a little hopeless.
The young one strokes his short head of black hair, “the most important aspect for you to understand is that if you’ll trust us, we may just be able to help you see things a little more clearly.”
The Vision
Not long after your acknowledgement to trust the elders, they ask you to stay put in the chair by the smoldering coals. They set a cast iron pot on the coals and start to rebuild the fire around it. Several objects and spices are dropped into the pot and big jug of water is poured over them. The vapors start to waft up past your head. They ask you to lean back and you see the younger man packing a long, ancient pipe.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The women, all three of them, stand and surround you. Their chant is eerie. The way it echoes through the forest and also echoes back and forth from one ear and to the other, it somehow relaxes you. Your eye lids start to grow heavy. It isn’t a tiring feeling, but a comforting one. Someone grabs your head and you feel the end of the pipe shoved into your mouth, gently.
You inhale the savory tasting smoke. The taste makes you just feel like a tree in the forest with its earthy, hearty flavor. The smoke is heavy. Your mouth, throat, and lungs fill with the substance, as if it completely replaces the air within. You don’t choke or cough.
The eerie chants of the women start to travel away from you at a great speed. The vapors cling to your hot, sweaty skin. Everything goes white as your eye lids shut, with the heavy vapors and smoke clinging to the eyes.
**
You are walking along a dusty path with almost alien world like black rocky textures. Your vision is hazy, though, as you look ahead, you know that you see yourself there.
You recall, that this is a memory that one of your fond stories is based on. You are vacationing in, of all fantastic places, Hawaii.
You are climbing a volcanic crater to get a view over the waters of the Pacific. It’s so early in the morning; the sun has yet to rise. Apparently, the sunrise from the top of this is amazing, and there are even whales to spot at that time of morning from here.
You know that someone is there with you, but queerly, you can’t remember who that person is. You get to a set of stone steps within an enclosed area from an overhang. You are winded as you finally reach the top of the laboring series of steps. Just as you are about to step out and be greeted by the first rays of the sun, near the top of the edge of the crater, a black helicopter buzzes you. It surprises you and your partner and you are both sent onto your butts on the top step. The steps are slick enough from a recent rain that you start to slide down one step and to the next.
You are scared at first, but then you hearing a childish, joyous laughter from the other person and it send you into a bout of laughter interrupted by landing on each sequential step on your butt. You eventually get to the end of the stairs and the dirt path halts your slide.
You are actually disappointed as you comprehend the end of your joyous laughter and childish fun. Finally, you regain composure and make it to the top to see a school of whales swimming around the observation point of the crater.
This is only the start to an amazing journey that leaves you warm inside.
It’s funny, after all that, you never really remember anything much about Hawaii specifically. You just somehow feel that it was Hawaii.
**
You are surrounded by a thick fog, so firm, in fact, that you seem to be standing on it. You are above the level of the ground. You are actually peering through a ceiling, into a hospital room. You see yourself there. One figure is laying in the bed and the other one stands at the side of the bed.
Through the fog, you can’t quite tell, by physical appearance, who either figure is. You do discern, deep down, that you are one of them.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you.” The one in the bed says.
Though it looks sort of like the one in the bed expects support, instead the figure by the bed shrugs his shoulders in anger, “You’re damn right. How could you keep something like this from me?”
The woman in the bed sobs at the harsh, loud words, “This was really traumatic, I’d really like your support. We can fight later.” After a few moments of silence, “Please.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me?!” The visitor's voices get higher pitched and louder. “I loved you.”
“What do you mean, loved?” The woman in the bed wheezes, as you can’t see the tears rolling down her cheeks, but you know that they are there.
“You had an abortion and you didn’t even tell me about the pregnancy first. What if I’d wanted the baby? This is a part of me that you stole. How could you do this? This is what you’d been so depressed and angry about over the last couple weeks? When I asked about it, you just refused to tell me. You just sat there in silence.”
“You know I can’t have kids. It’s too risky for the health of the baby and may be for my health too. We’ve talked about this. We agreed that this is the route we’d take. We didn’t want to bring a...”
The man by the bed seems frustrated, “I know, I know. Look, I’m sorry. I know we talked about it. I know we agreed on this path. It’s just... that... it’s different when it actually happens. I’m...”
The woman falls back against the elevated back of the hospital bed and sinks into the pillow.
You get the sneaking presumption that whatever comes next between these two doesn’t end well. They do not choose a positive path together; someone or both of them get hurt even worse in the end.
Could this really be you, or are you just identifying somehow with the situation? You don’t want to speculate anymore; you want truth.
**
Fire Pit Overlooking the Pacific
You open your eyes with a start. Sweat has collected in every crease of your flesh and clothing. No, some of it is the vapor gathering, but some is definitely your sweat. The women, up seeing your eyes glaring around nervously, stop their chanting and with labored breaths, they return to their seats.
You have never experienced anything quite like these mind altering substances. You have been saying that a lot to yourself lately, which you haven’t done something that you just experienced. You are either broadening your horizons or you are going crazy, or perhaps a little of both.
You wish that you could make light of the current situation, but there is just no way to. The second vision that you saw had better not be real or truth. You walk into the tent after taking in a big breath of the cool, crisp mountain air.
You trust that Mysticalis is somewhere nearby; ready to come to your aid at the first sign of danger, even should that danger be the native chieftain’s lying to you.
“Please sit down.” The eldest with the long, straight, silver hair addresses the young man. “This is medicine man. He has carried this ritual on to the current generation from many generations’ passed. Whatever you saw, they were visions of your past. Visions... that in some way should help to clarify your current condition and situation. If you would trust your deepest secrets of this vision to us, we can help you to interpret them.”
You nod and go on a long winded description of the settings and events with as little content about the abortion issue as you can. You describe the joy and foreignness of the first vision and then, as you start to describe the second vision in the hospital, a couple of the council sharply intake their breath.
The chieftain nods and all of them remain silent for some minutes. You become overly concerned. “Why don’t you speak? What is it? Some of you seem very worried or nervous. I need to know. What’s happening to me?”
Then, rubbing his throat, the chieftain speaks, “Calm yourself. We are trying to interpret the dual visions. This rite is one that summons a singular train of thought. One encompassing vision. You’ve received two distinctive ones. Tell me, what was your point of view of the visions?”
You explain how the first had been so out of focus. Then you do your best to describe the second vision, floating above and disconnected by the fog that made it difficult make visually make much out.
Another of the elders stands up and the chieftain motions for the woman to speak. He sits down.
“I’m Elisa. I am a dreamer. I have spent much of my life exploring the dream world and understanding the messages that it conveys. What I can tell you...” Elisa moves over next to you and caresses your shoulder to comfort you, “is that these two visions... in a way... they are for different people or from different people. In the first, some of the details are missing. Is it possible you could have been using mind altering substances at the time of the vacation? No? That’s most strange. You don’t really believe it to be more than a story yourself. As for the other vision. It’s as if you’ve been removed from your past. The therapists would probably say something like, ‘you’ve separated yourself from a trauma that you don’t want to associate with.’ We know that there is a lot more out there. Mysteries can’t be so easily explained as how you have manipulated yourself. There are dream eaters, dream walkers, and other spirits that can create this sort of haziness you remember. Did you have this memory before the vision showed it to you?”
“Not at all. I feel like I’m in the room, that I’m involved, but honestly, it doesn’t make any sense. I don’t remember it at all.”
Elisa looks past you into the fire as small bits of ash travel about into the air and make their way towards the Ocean. “Curious. This moment is deep within your sleeping mind. You were there.”
“That seems horrible.” You stand up and move away from the fire pit, to avoid the heat.
At that moment, a great rustling of leaves turns all the heads of the council and you to the top of the hill. You see Mysticalis, its sword drawn, in the closest thing you have seen in him to a panic. “It’s Roger...” Myst is breathing heavily and puts a hand on its knee. “He’s in trouble, and so is the life source.”
All the elders get to their feet and the number of conversations and orders gets a bit hectic. You start up toward Mysticalis, but you notice someone following you up and not getting involved in the frantic conversations.
Elisa pulls you aside before you have left the fire circle, a couple of yards from Myst. “You should have this.” She hands you a dream catcher.
“Thanks, I’ve always seen and heard about these, but I never believed...”
“It may help you come to understand your past. It may help your future.”
“I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality. Well, maybe I can help with Roger.” You try to say the last sentence loud enough to be heard over all the banter.