Read Shaman - the Awakening Online

Authors: Vr McCoy

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Native American, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Supernatural, #Witches & Wizards

Shaman - the Awakening (11 page)

BOOK: Shaman - the Awakening
6.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

At the morning meeting, the A.D. spewed out his usual badgering, which no one was interested in hearing. Then it was time for me to brief everyone on my findings. The A.D. didn't have a problem with me speaking at the time, but his hard-eyed glare made me sure we'd have another private meeting after this one because I ventured off the reservation to acquire the information.

Everyone at the meeting was shocked by my findings. They immediately sent the local police to the liquor store to preserve the crime scene. When I finished briefing everyone, Ortega jumped out of his chair with tears in his eyes and attacked me. He was distraught and out of control.

“You saw him doing all this to her and you didn't stop it,” he yelled, holding me down on the floor. Then Steve, who was the closest ViCAP team member, tackled Ortega, and the rest of the ViCAP team flew out of their seats as well. Steve hit him several times, rendering him incapacitated. He lay on the floor weeping.

“How dare you! He saw all of this after the fact! Don't you ever touch a member of my team,” Steve yelled, enraged as he stood over the prostrate agent.

Amber went over to calm Steve, and Dianna accompanied me. No one from the Residence Office attempted to come to Ortega's defense; partially because he was wrong, but mostly because of Max, a former linebacker and Special Forces Marine, who was waiting to engage anyone who even thought about jumping in.

Max was our enforcer as he looked over the crowd between us and them. I've seen him on countless occasions take on up to four assailants at the same time without even breaking a sweat. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed engaging in physical confrontation. He would always psychoanalyze himself and his aggression as being a healthy way of relieving stress and that it was controlled and only brought out when necessary. Agent Max Maurice and Sheriff Carroll Hughes were from the same cloth. I wouldn't want to confront either man in a dark alley. They could have been brothers in a different life.

The A.D. seemed to take pleasure in what had happened. He'd had an unforgettable smirk on his face when I was attacked. I don't know what I ever did to the Assistant Director, but one thing was for sure; he despised me. The fight had been all he needed to break up the team.

Thus far we were down two ViCAP agents. Paul had been shot and was recovering from his injury and Steve had been suspended and relieved of duty. He was taken off the case due to personal involvement and the politics of bureaucracy. That left Max, Amber, Dianna and me; two African Americans, an Italian American and a half breed descendant of Freedmen. It didn't take a genius to surmise what would happen next. Yes racism still exists in the government. It didn't take long before the A.D. took total control of the investigation. It should have been passed down to Max, but apparently the team had fallen from grace in the eyes of Washington, with the abduction of Gracie.

The remaining team members continued to assist with the investigation. We currently had the most investigative history and knowledge on the case, but we were under close scrutiny. The A.D. threatened to fire me if I disobeyed him, and went out into the field investigating again. It was easier to fire me than the others, because I was only a consultant on contract. The others had civil servant positions and ratings.

Dianna and I were mandated to remain at the RO and assist with coordination. I immediately requested a medical leave of absence due to the pressure of the case. It was easy for me to request the leave since my contract had a medical clause. This infuriated the A.D. and he threatened to fire me again, but there was nothing he could do. My contract was drawn up by a very reputable lawyer. He also threatened to arrest me if he saw or heard of me getting involved in the case in any way. A.D. Pollin was self-destructing, slowly but surely. He vilified and put down the A-team, and we were the only chance he had of catching this killer.

I moved out of the Hilton where Pollin and the other agents were staying, and into the Ramada Inn. I wouldn't leave Gracie like that. I was invested in the case, but I knew I couldn't help her in my limited role at the RO. I informed Dianna of my intentions, and then called Steven. He was still in New Mexico also. We agreed to continue working the case together. The rest of the ViCAP team would assist us from the inside. Dianna's duties would be to shadow the A.D. After moving into the Ramada I received a call from Nina, who had also been sent packing.

“So I heard you're taking a leave of absence,” she stated.

“Yeah, that prick just wanted to rub my nose in it. There was no need in me to stay there and take that abuse. I've never been a glutton for punishment,” I stated.

“So, are you quitting or just needed to get away from the Anal Dude,” she inquired?

“I like the abbreviated pun,” I replied.

“I have my moments,” she retorted.

“So, are you ready to go on a road trip with me?” she asked.

“Sure; where are we going?”

“We need to go back to North Carolina. I have someone I need you to meet,” she stated.

“I don't know if this is a good time for it,” I replied.

“This is the best time for it. We are running out of time and if you're going to find Agent Mullins, you need to utilize your abilities to the fullest. I know someone who can assist you with that. You are capable of doing so much more with your abilities than you are aware of,” Nina stated.

“So, when do we leave?” I asked.

“I've already booked us a flight out in four hours,” she replied.

“Well thank you very much, Ms. Confidence. I need to make a few phone calls then, can you pick me up?”

“Sure; I'll see you soon,” she stated and hung up the phone.

The Talisman

“I circle around, I circle around, the boundaries of the earth
I circle around, I circle around, the boundaries of the earth
wearing my long winged feathers as I fly
wearing my long winged feathers as I fly
I circle around, I circle around, the boundaries of the earth”

– Shamanic Chant

Nina and I took the next flight out of Albuquerque; Delta flight 5098 to the Asheville Regional Airport, Swain County, North Carolina. She was certain that if I met with a medicine man there, he could teach me to target my abilities in order to find Gracie.

“So, how did Dianna take it?” Nina inquired.

“What do you mean?”

“You know; you going to North Carolina with me,” she stated, grinning.

“She trusts us both to do the right thing,” I replied, smiling in return.

“And what is the right thing,” she asked, continuing to engage in the repartee to tease me.

“Not doing anything that would hurt her.”

“You're funny, Chris, but I respect how much you care about each other. Besides, you both have already taken care of me ever cheating, haven't you? I guess she would feel safe and trust you after that,” she stated, then exploded with a hearty laugh. “I'm just messing with you, Chris; don't take it personally. I love you both,” she said with a Cheshire Cat grin.

I barely knew this side of Nina. This was an aspect of her nature I experienced in the dreamscape that night; the vixen. This was going to be an interesting trip, if she was starting out this way. Nina really did have feelings for me, but attempted to mask them around Dianna, which was appropriate since =the other woman was my girlfriend. The bad thing about it was that I was attracted to her as well, but I would never hurt Dianna by cheating on her again. Nina was extremely attractive, but my feelings for Dianna were more than just physical.

After landing, we rented a vehicle and drove about 60 miles to Cherokee, North Carolina. This was the setting I was used to, having grown up as a boy in North Carolina; the tall and dense trees of the forest, the running rivers, lakes, mountains and wilderness of the Carolinas. Nina and I enjoyed a scenic and pleasurable drive through the western county of Swain, NC. It was beautiful there in the Oconaluftee River Valley within the Smokey Mountains. This was the Nina's birthplace. She knew it well, and still had family here.

Nina currently lived in Washington, D.C., as I did, but traveled often between D.C. and Cherokee, which was the headquarters of Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians. It was late when we checked into the Hilton in Cherokee. We used our government discounts at the hotel and Nina paid for the flights via her government credit card. She could justify paying for my ticket because I was an official consultant.

After getting settled we enjoyed a nice meal together in the Hilton's restaurant and called it a night. I telephoned Dianna before bed to see how she was doing, and for the latest FBI update on Gracie, but nothing had changed.

When I went to sleep that night I reached out to Dianna in my dreams. One great thing about dreamscape was that I could reach out to loved ones, no matter how far away. We made love that night in the other realm. I woke in the morning to the sound of my phone ringing. It was Dianna. She wanted to discuss our dream together last night. While talking to her I heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, someone's at the door. Can I call you back later?” I requested, hating to let the moment end.

“Sure, and be careful, alright?” Dianna urged.

“You bet,” I replied. I was still in bed with my lounge pants on and a white fruit of the loom's V-neck shirt when I went to the door. It was Nina, already dressed with two cups of coffee in hand.

“Wow, young man; how long are you going to sleep,” she inquired as I let her in the door.

“Good morning, Nina.”

“I thought we'd get an early start since we're on the clock here.” She placed the coffee on the table. “Can I open the curtains, Count Dracula?” she asked, opening them before I could even answer.

“Sure, go right ahead,” I said sarcastically as the sun of the morning blinded me temporarily.

“I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick and get dressed.”

“Go right ahead. I promise you, I won't peek, but it's not like you're going to show me something I haven't already seen,” she stated laughing. “I'm only kidding you, go ahead and shower.”

“You're not going to let me forget that night, are you,” I asked and looked at her, grinning.

“Not a chance, buster,” she replied and giggled. I must admit she was delightful and extremely charming. I could have thought of worse ways to wake up. Then she continued to talk to me while I was in the shower. “Did you visit Dianna last night?”

“Yes I did.”

“That's sweet, but did you receive anything further on Gracie?”

“As a matter of fact, yes; I did. The subject fed and bathed her last night like he did Jessica. He is sticking to the same routine. He has been meticulously careful, almost regimental, except he took Gracie earlier than scheduled.”

“Do you think it could be someone with former military experience?” Nina suggested

“It could be. There are a lot of military traumas that would lead one to violent tendencies, but usually we see binge killing sprees, not meticulous serial murders associated with those disorders.”

After I finished dressing, Nina drove us into town to a holistic healing shop. I was expecting us to go to a reservation or some old cabin in the woods and meet with a grumpy old guru type medicine man. I quickly discovered how far off my imagination had gotten me. The building we approached was a little store front shop. It even had a bell over the front door that rang when customers entered. The shop had solutions, herbs, potions and powders used for medical purposes. It was set up like a pharmacy, but for witches, warlocks and mystics, or as the letters stated on the large store front window: `Earth Healers.'

They had a section of animal medicines: chicken feet, frog legs, powder of animal antlers, snake venom, animal gonads and other animal tissue cultures. There was a botany / ethno-botanical section filled with fresh and dry herbs, cactus buds, dream-inducing plant powders, extracts, resins, roots, bark, psychedelic seeds, magic mushrooms, assorted plants, oils and incense. The last section was dedicated to trinkets, books, crystals, talismans, totems and other assorted materials used in the practice of different Earth religions and arts. I was amazed at all the different eccentric items they had on display.

There was a beautiful young Native American girl at the counter. When she saw Nina, her face immediately lit up. They hugged and Nina spoke to her in Kituhwa, the middle dialect of Aniyawiya, the official language of Cherokees (Tsalagi) indigenous to North Carolina. I didn't understand a word. My grandmother would have understood it and spoken it fluently in return. My mother knew a little of the dialect but rarely spoke it, except on rare occasions with my grandmother, and even then it was mixed with American English.

Nina handed her the gift bag she had been keeping in the back seat of the vehicle. The young girl responded to her in Kituhwa. Nina introduced me to the young woman as her cousin, [
1
](#sdfootnote1sym)Kele.

“Kele, this is Christian Sands. He is a colleague of mine from work.”

“Hello, Mr. Sands; how are you?” She extended her hand

“Very well, Kele, but call me Chris. Beauty must run in the family,” I said out loud, grasping her warm palm in mine

I must have been tired because I'm never that forward and usually keep those types of thoughts and comments to myself. Kele began blushing as Nina looked at me with a huge smile, and nudged me with her shoulder.

“Look mister, don't be hitting on my cousin,” she responded. Then Nina spoke to Kele again in their native tongue. They both laughed, and then Kele went to the back of the store into a private area separated by a door. When Kele returned she was with an older Native American gentleman who appeared to be in his sixties, but still had a vibrant, fit look about him. He was wearing a black cashmere sweater vest, blue oxford shirt, buttoned to the top, blue jeans and black Timberland boots. When he approached me he gazed into my eyes, as if to gaze into my soul. His intense concentration suggested the scrutiny I usually reserved for a favorite movie or novel He had the stare of a large cat, like a lion or a tiger. Then he greeted the both of us.

“Shi-yo,” he said.

“Shi-yo, uncle,” Nina replied, and hugged him.

Good morning, how are you?” he inquired, holding his hand out to shake.

“I'm very well, and you?” I replied while extending my.

Then he sandwiched my one hand between the both of his and replied, “Good; thank you for coming.”

“Chris, this is my uncle Askuwheteau. Uncle, this is Chris, who I've been talking to you about,” she stated.

He turned his attention towards Nina and they spoke in Kituhwa. Then he said “Good, good,” ending their conversation in English.

“Daughter, I will be back later, look after the store,” he said to Kele. Then we departed.

We drove to the outskirts of town, where Askuwheteau lived. It was a modern, two-story, single-family home like many others in Swain County. Once inside, I met his wife and oldest daughter with her three year old son. They were all elated to see Nina and vice versa. They spoke in English and kept the Kituhwa to a minimum around me, to be polite. I always wondered why most people who knew different languages didn't extend the same courtesy.

After the introductions I was offered some tea and homemade bread cake by Awenta, Asku's wife. After a couple of minutes, Asku returned from the basement with a backpack and two sitting rugs. Then he informed the rest of the family that he would be back shortly.

“Will you join me?” he asked me upon approach.

“Yes, sir,” I responded and got up with the unfinished tea and bread cake in hand.

“Here, let me take that for you,” Nina offered.

We got into Asku's truck and drove into the Smokey Mountain range, traveling up and down, for an extended period of time as if we were on a rollercoaster ride,. We finally arrived at a valley amongst the mountains, with a little stream running through it. It was so serene; I couldn't believe the beauty of it all. It was like something from a Norman Rockwell painting.

After hiking for about a mile, we came to one of the biggest trees there. It was an Eastern hemlock that appeared to be about 500 years old. It was about 150 feet tall and about 7 feet in diameter, with painted symbols on it. The tree provided a roof for a manmade altar and a fire pit, all made of stone, which had been erected beneath it. We stopped about ten yards from the area and Asku got on his knees. He asked me to do the same as he spoke several words in Kituhwa, as if praying. Then we stood and he explained to me, “This is a
Wakhan Waki
; it means `sacred place' in English. It is called
Mahkah-Odahingum-Mahpee
, or Earth-Water-Sky. The water meets the Earth and the Earth meets the sky.” Then he showed me the spot in the valley where the river touched the land and the mountains touched the sky. “Everything leads back to the sacred number 3, which reminds us of the three realms,” he intoned, his voice soft and far away, but supported by a sensation of power. His voice was like thunder over the mountains, or the rushing of a distant river. We paused a moment in respectful silence before we continued towards the giant tree and altar area. He laid the rugs out before the altar and took out several totems.

“My niece tells me that you have vision dreams. I, too, am a wanderer between the realms. We call it vision quest. Someone in your family was the same?” he inquired in his softly authoritative monotone

“Yes; my grandmother and her father,” I replied.

“Not your mother?” he asked.

“No; but her sister, my aunt, has the gift,” I stated.

“Your mother also has this gift, but has suppressed it for many years. She has suppressed it in you as well. You have never had anyone to guide you through, as my father had guided me, and his father and father's father back to the time when the gift was brought down from the Great Spirit. Will you let me instruct you through this journey?” Asku inquired.

“Yes,” I replied.

“It will take many nights before you can achieve your full potential, but I will start by getting you in touch with your spirit guide. Your spirit guide is what directs you in your dreams. It is how you achieve what you do while in the spirit worlds; the Upper and Lower Realms, as well as what you achieve in this Middle Realm which represents consciousness. This is the one which you are connected. “Have you seen a constant animal while in your dreams,” Asku inquired?

“No, never,” I replied.

“This is why you can't continue past your one realm. You haven't made a connection with your spirit guide. You have been taught to control your dreams by the [
2
](#sdfootnote2sym)Bilagaana (Kachada), but it is not control that you need. You need guidance, and to learn how to channel. Channeling is how Shamans direct their efforts in the other realms.”

“So how do you cross over?” I inquired.

“Most beginners enter through one or several senses; sight, smell, touch, hearing or taste,” he responded.

“I touch the personal objects of people when I want to make a connection,” I stated.

“You also look at the objects and probably listen to certain items without even recognizing you are using your senses in conjunction, but your main sense is touch, so let's begin channeling there.”

Then Asku lit a fire in the pit and returned. He took out a pipe and placed crushed peyote in it. “We will share this smoke together, but first I will need you to repeat this chant in order for you to know it and remember it. We will chant this after smoking. The peyote will assist you in your awakening. It will release you from the bonds that keep you bound to this realm, and show you enlightenment.”

We began chanting in Kituhwa. He didn't tell me what the words meant at the time, but I repeated what he was saying as best I could.

Hey

Oh o o We e

BOOK: Shaman - the Awakening
6.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Being a Boy by James Dawson
The Nelson Files: Episode #1 by Cecere, Ryan, Lucas, Scott
Corrigan Rage by Helen Harper
Luck of the Draw by Kelley Vitollo
Swan Song by Tracey
Horse Games by Bonnie Bryant