Chapter two
Morningstar and Songbird sat at the kitchen table while the mother and child slept. The kitchen was dark; the only light came from an oil lamp on the table. Eerie shadows danced in the corners, hiding from the small flame contained in the flawed glass chimney of the lamp. With the storm raging outside the window, both women were uneasy as they sat silently.
“Grandmother, I feel like someone is watching me.” Having legally changed her name from Songbird years before, Susan broke the silence.
“I feel it too, child. This storm is not natural. I could not calm it at all. Magic is strong in the air tonight, much more than usual.” Morningstar took a sip of coffee after replying to her granddaughter.
“Can you explain some things to me, please? You said you knew the day of your death. How can that be? How can a storm not be natural? Was it my imagination, or did the storm worsen as April gave birth?” Susan was full of doubts. She was starting to wonder if her grandmother may be right after all.
Morningstar smiled, her perfect white teeth flashing in a smile. Susan cringed at the appearance as the orange flame made her grandmother’s teeth appear animalistic in shape and color. Morningstar did not appear to be one hundred and six years old. At first glance, you would assume she is in her late forties or early fifties. She had lived her life the old way. She never ate processed food and didn’t own a television or radio. She hunted, fished, grew, or raised her food herself. The purity of her life was the reason she looked so young.
“The spirits told me the day of my release from this mortal vessel. Our souls are immortal, you know that. Your Christian teachings say that, too. So it is not death, but rebirth. Child, my beliefs and yours are not that different at the core. The churches, not just the Catholics, have altered and removed content from the Bible. They have strayed from the truth to exert control over the people. Believe me, don’t believe me, that is your right. We are all entitled to our own beliefs. I believe in spirituality, not religion.” Morningstar intentionally paused to give Susan a moment to reflect on her words.
“So you do not believe in the Bible or Jesus?” Susan asked after several seconds of silence.
“I believe in both. I do not think the church is telling us everything about him or that the Bible is the whole word of God. The Bible has been altered too many times in translation by man. Their beliefs and opinions have changed the actual message from the Creator. Christ came to teach, to set the universe’s balance back on course. We can spend days debating this, so I will move on. Each of us has power. Our soul, what we are, not this bag of bones, is pure power. When we are born, the universe feels the energy of our birth. Those in tune to the power can also feel the power of a soul born in the mortal realm.” Morningstar tried to explain her beliefs to her granddaughter without causing an argument with her. Susan was a devout Catholic, hating everything about her heritage and the old spiritual teachings that her grandmother believed. Susan hated being an Indian so much that she bleached her hair blonde in an attempt to hide her heritage. When she left the Reservation, the first thing she did was change her name from Songbird to Susan.
“It is so confusing. The Church is over a thousand years old, so I tend to believe them over your stories.” Susan refused to accept the possibility that her grandmother was right.
“Stories told by a man in a robe. We have our historians and teachers; our stories go back ten thousand years or more. Also, every civilization and culture has stories that are almost identical to ours. Groups of people who never met or had contact with one another have the same beliefs. I can argue further that even the architecture of the different civilizations is similar. The pyramids or Eygpt and the Aztec temples are the same. Our people had dirt pyramids. Why is it so hard to believe the truth lies within all the different beliefs? In retelling the stories, like in the Bible, man has altered the truth to modernize or add their feelings. I am not saying that your beliefs are incorrect. I am saying they are the same as mine. They were altered differently due to where the people were when they interpreted and retold the stories.” Morningstar let out a deep sigh, knowing that she was wasting her time.
“Okay, let’s drop it. Why do you say the storm isn’t natural? Do you really believe you can alter the weather?” Susan had that spiteful, judgmental tone again.
“Not as well as my mother could, but yes, I can change the path or intensity of a storm. We have grown weak as we become modernized. We have lost much of the power and magic we used to have. Science and religion have dismissed the old ways in an attempt to destroy what mankind doesn’t fully understand. That is our way. We must understand and control every aspect of our existence. That is why people as a whole are not happy today. We are at war within ourselves, dismissing what we are because we can not understand our true selves. Take a look at yourself, Songbird. You hate who and what you are so much that you bleach your hair and change your name.” Morningstar left it at that. She stood, getting the coffee pot from the wood stove and refilling both cups.
“The storm isn’t natural. It is way too powerful, coming out of nowhere. I could not shift it, even in a small area around me. I believe it is here to hide the power of the child entering the mortal realm. You are right; the storm got stronger when April gave birth. That is why I think I am right about it being here to hide hi-…” Morningstar was interrupted by the front door slamming open.
A man walked in, pushing the door closed behind him. Susan began to panic, moving toward the bedroom door in terror. Morningstar stood her ground, the lamp light reflecting off a long, narrow blade she had pulled out of her dress. The old woman moved to block the man from entering the cabin further. She did not miss the rifle in the man’s hands or the knife hanging on his belt.
He was tall, lean in the hips, and wide in the shoulders. He towered over the petite woman blocking his path. Like Morningstar, his hair was white, running down his back in a tight braid. His hawk-like nose, dark eyes, and wrinkled brown skin resembled those of a Native American male of the northern tribes. Morningstar could feel the power that radiated from the man. She had a weird feeling that this man was not a man at all.
“I will kill you before I let you hurt that girl or her child,” Morningstar growled at the intruder, her lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl as she spoke.
“I am here to protect the child. The evil ones know of his birth and location. The storm failed to hide him,” he paused, turning his back on her. “Or your stupidity led them right to him.” he finished saying as he began to carve symbols on the door with his knife. Morningstar just stood there watching, unsure how to react to this stranger.
When the man finished with the door, he moved to the window in the main room. He again used the knife to carve symbols in the logs, marking around the opening. He repeated his actions at every window in the cabin before he came to a stop before Morningstar.
“They are here, watching and planning their assault. They are unsure who or what you are, which gives us a little time.” He said to Morningstar, looking down his hawk nose at her. “Let me see the babe. Is it the wolf or the bear?”
“I do not know you!” Morningstar proclaimed, raising her knife again as she composed herself. The shock of what he had done had worn off. “I will not let you near that child or her mother,” she growled again, her snarl returned.
“Here, you know how to use this.” the man said as he thrust his rifle toward Morningstar. She snatched it from his hands, opening the breech with the lever to see if it was loaded. The rifle was an old lever-action Sharps chambered in 45-70. When Morningstar was a child, they called it a buffalo gun. She leveled the muzzle at the man’s midsection.
“Knife, too. You make one wrong move, and I will shoot you.” Morningstar held her hand out, keeping her finger on the trigger. When he handed her his knife, she made it disappear in her dress, hidden away with her knife as she moved behind the man. Morningstar pressed the muzzle in the small of his back, pushing him towards the bedroom.
“May I?” he asked as he stared down at the newborn child. The boy was wide awake, staring at the man with a smile on his little lips. The smile caught Morningstar by surprise. The infant was only hours old. He should not be capable of smiling yet.
“No, you may not touch him. I do not know you or trust you.” Morningstar answered him as she shoved the barrel harder into his spine. She was reminding him of his precarious position.
“I swear to you that I will not harm the child.” The man pleaded with Morningstar.
“Move slowly and with caution. I will shoot if you so much as sneeze.” Morningstar looked from the man to the babe. “Go ahead,” she said.
The man took the child from his mother’s breast, smiling as he felt the power the child possessed. When he saw the bear’s head birthmark, he pressed his finger to his canine tooth, making it bleed. He drew similar markings on the child’s face, chest, and back to those he had put around the windows and doors with his blood. When he completed drawing the markings, the blood and markings disappeared. He put the infant back on the young girl’s breast. He turned towards the window as he asked for his knife back. Morningstar obliged, returning it while still keeping the rifle pointed at him. When he finished carving the symbols around the bedroom window, he sheathed his knife and left the room.
“Who are you?” Morningstar asked him as she followed him to the kitchen. The man made himself at home, getting a coffee mug and filling it before sitting at the table. Susan, scared witless, remained in the bedroom with her daughter and new grandchild.
“I have many names. To keep it simple, you may call me Adam. Tell me what the spirits told you concerning the child. Do not lie to me or try to hide the truth from me. I already know what they told you. I want to hear it from your lips. I need to know if you comprehend the importance of his birth and him.” Adam spoke calmly, his voice heavy with authority.
“I should just shoot you and be done with it,” Morningstar said, fear creeping into her voice as she raised the rifle to point it at his head.
“You could shoot me, but it will do you no good. I am the only one that can protect the child from what is coming. Sit down and tell me what you know. Keep the rifle if it makes you feel safe.” Adam pushed the chair across from him with his foot as he took a sip from his mug. He set the cup down, reached into his buckskin coat, and pulled out a flask. After pouring a liberal amount of its contents into his mug, he took another sip. “Much better. Do you indulge?” Adam asked as he offered her his flask.
Morningstar sat down, laying the rifle on the table. With the muzzle still pointed at the stranger, her finger on the trigger, as she reached for the flask. The heavy steel of the long firearm added more scratches to the gray Formica table top. She smelled the contents before putting it to her lips. The fluid warmed her throat as she drained the remainder of its contents.
“They didn’t tell me much. They said that either the wolf or the bear would be born tonight. That the child’s soul is one of the ancient ones, returning to bring balance to the universe. One spirit said something about a sword and shield of the Creator. I have no clue what it means.” Morningstar answered his question, relaxing as the man smiled and nodded.
“The future is uncertain. The boy can go either way. That is the curse of free will. Have the twins been around? Have they been watching you? I need to know if they followed you or if they felt his birth.” Adam was staying on topic and getting right to the point.
“What twins? What are you talking about?” Morningstar was now more confused than she had been when he arrived.
“Never mind, you haven’t seen them. If you had, you would know to whom I refer.” Adam stood up, placed his empty flask in his pocket, then moved to the window. He pushed the thin curtain aside to stare out into the storm. Seeing him there made Morningstar realize something about the man.
“How is it that you had no snow or wetness on you when you arrived? The snow piled on my shoulders and feet as I walked here.” the realization of what she had seen made her begin to look at the man much closer. Recognition dawned on her from a distant memory.
“That is impossible,” she shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t be him,” Morningstar remembered the man from her youth. He had come to her village when she was eight years old. He had talked to her, telling her that she must stay strong in the old ways. He had given her the totem that hung around her neck at that very moment.
“Do you still wear the talisman I gave you that day?” Adam asked as a way to confirm that it was indeed him.
“This is impossible! You are the same then as you are now. You must be at least one hundred and seventy years old.” Morningstar proclaimed in disbelief.
“Child, I am much older than that. My appearance is a convenience, nothing more. No one takes a second look at an old Indian man walking around.” as he spoke, his appearance flashed to that of a young man in his early twenties. Recognition of the young man made Morningstar’s mouth drop. He was her daughter’s father!
“NO! Yo-, yo-, you died! You left me alone in the woods when I begged you to stay with me!” Morningstar was crying as she yelled at the man.
She had loved him with a wildfire passion that burned with the heat of a hundred suns. They had met at a meeting of the Ghost Dancers. One night, he had taken her to the woods, far from the village, hiding her away. He had left her alone, returning to camp to protect the women and children from the US cavalry. That had been in 1890 at the Wounded Knee Massacre. They had only been together a month and had no idea she was pregnant then.
“Morningstar, I am sorry. I loved you, I still do. I was not allowed to stay with you. I was only supposed to ensure the bloodline was as pure as possible and ensure you survived that day. I was punished for falling in love with you, forbidden from seeing you again. I will be punished for revealing myself to you, but it is worth it.” Adam moved to her, kneeling before her. He took her face in his hands, then kissed her lips.
“Who are you? WHAT ARE YOU?” Morningstar screamed the last three words in his face as she pushed him away.
“I can not answer that. You can find the answer on your own if you try. Ask your spirit guide about The Watcher. She will not be very forthcoming, so you must bargain with her to get the information you need. I was a simple man, madly in love with a beautiful woman when we were together. That is all I can s-.” he was interrupted by an ear-shattering crash of thunder. It shook the entire cabin, making dust rain down from the rafters.
“We are out of time. Get to the bedroom now.” Adam said, grabbing her hand. He pulled her up from the metal chair, dragging her towards the bedroom. As they entered the bedroom, another boom shook the cabin. Susan screamed as she made herself small in the corner of the room.
“Listen to me closely. Do not leave this cabin. The child’s father will arrive in three days. Do not open the door until he arrives. The child must take the other man’s last name as protection, not his father’s. Morningstar, you know how limited your time is. You must teach the child everything you can about the old ways in that time. Protect and teach him.” Adam closed the bedroom door, carving the symbols in it. “Do as I say, and you will survive the next few hours.” he kissed Morningstar once more, then vanished before her eyes.