"Oak Orchard"

                              6   

                      " Nakima "

    I have to admit I was a bit unnerved by my visit to the Crows Nest but all in all at least I got to meet the tribe. The locals were locals if you know what I mean. I hadn't expected much more than that type of reception. After all I was the stranger; a stranger in more ways then one.
 
    It still was a bit puzzling the next day as I started to tape the drywall on the second floor. It had just started to become light around six enough to see what I was doing. I couldn't get it out of my mind. First it was the damn crows, now this big Indian.The more I thought, about it, the more I couldn't wait to get back there and talk to him again. He did say crows were there for me. I had always thought that the crow symbolized impending doom or death but this was different in some way. I could sense it; feel it. It was odd, very odd indeed.
  As the afternoon wore on, I worked non stop through lunch. It was about 2:30 now and I stopped for a quick break. The taping was getting more frustrating by the minute. I dropped more on the floor then I got on the walls it seemed. My mind wandered as I worked. What's next, is all I could think about. I began to want the voice in my head to return again.
    Every time I dropped more mud on the floor I mumbled.  "You’re loosing it Sam."
    I had only accomplished half of what I wanted to get done, but the break was a good thing. I regrouped in my mind as I thought about the Crows Nest and my new acquaintance.
    “The hell with all this. Get it done” I pulled off the couch and buried the dishes in the sink with new found vigor as I headed back to the job at hand.
    The light began to wane as the last tape was applied to the corners. I had avoided them all day because they took so long and doing the flats first gave me a false sense that  most of the work was getting done. The real work was in the corners and with all the angles in the ceiling, I had my work cut out for me because the house was all chopped up.
  The clean blades settled upon the drywall bucket as I sighed a bit of relief. It had been a long day and I was dog tired. The break was what I needed to take my mind off the strange stuff in my head and back on the job. I surveyed the work one more time in admiration as a way to make sure I didn't miss anything. There was always something missed when you start getting tired and the end is in sight.
  With thoughts of the crows, Indians, the bar and locals far removed I eased back onto the couch. It swallowed me whole. I needed a good night sleep.
    "I am with you."  A soft sounding voice called.
    "It is time my son."  I strained to something very familiar in my head.
    "I am here."  I found myself talking. But talking to who? A dream?
    My first thoughts were a rude awakening of sorts. Oh crap is all I could think as my eyes met crystalline surrounding once more. I searched the room, glued fast in position on the couch.
    "Where are you?" My mind inquired as if I would see someone who spoke. It was the dream state again. And it was real.
    "I am with you my son. You have seen them."  I knew what the voice meant instantly.
    "I have." I replied.
    "Why are they after me?"  I wanted some answers as comfort came over me in this odd state.
    "They are nothing but a sign for you, a reminder." He continued.
    "You have things to do." The voice took on a person now in my mind.
    "Who are you and why is this happening." I asked.
    "I am Nakima, father of Running Fox and Little Bear. We are of the Wind Clan of the Nanticoke. Long ago in a dream I saw you. I have waited long for you to arrive."
    "Why." "What am I here for?"  I spoke with sincerity, yet fearful.
    "You are here to release the spirits of my sons."
    With those words I paused and tried very hard to absorb what he had just said.
    "I don't understand."  I wanted to know. This was becoming real now and I wanted answers.
    "Long ago my two sons were murdered."
    "There lives ended before they started."
    "My people looked long for the one who did this."
    "Darkness came upon our people for we knew it was one among us."
    "One left the tribe and hid away."
    "We knew it was this one who took their life."
    "He was Shining Sun of the Wolf Clan."
    "He fled knowing that his life must end to release their spirits."
    "A curse was on him and his offspring until payment for what he had done was satisfied."
    "And that is why I'm here?" For the life of me I couldn't fathom why or what it had to do with me.
    "Why me, I am not Indian. Don't know anything about this thing you want me to do, whatever it is." I tried to sound as if he had made a mistake. Truth was I wanted no parts of this.
    "You are part Blackfoot, a son of the Bear Clan. It is in your blood."
    "Reach inside yourself and find it."
    "You know it is true."
    His words made me shutter. And fear returned as I began to think am I some way related and am I going to die here. I could feel something. The room began to change and I saw things, places that were not here. Far away places. I saw my grandfather with his Blackfoot wife standing in a field. I knew it was him from pictures my father had shown me years long ago, when I was a boy and living in Oklahoma.  I had seen them and heard stories about our family. But nothing about what was being said to me now. I became fearful to ask another question.
    "Do not be afraid, it is not for you to repay but to help my sons."
    He had read my thoughts!  How could that be? Why couldn't it be? Hell anything might be possible at this point. After all I'm talking to someone who is not here. My mind drifted, not wanting to hear more. But something strange was inside of me, coursing through my veins. I could feel it. I saw it. It was in my blood!  But why me! What am I supposed to do?
    "Soon you will know."
    "But you will have to walk through the fire first before you feel the water."

    The sun had risen far enough for me to realize that I had over slept. For a moment I lay there still. It was as if I had just settled down minutes ago. I was dog tired as if I had been walking for hours, traveling somewhere. My legs even hurt. But I was here on this couch all night wasn't I?
 
    I closed my eyes again hoping the feelings would all just go away. “Enough with the voices and the crows; enough with the guy in the bar, and the two boys, Indians everywhere crows, voices,  I stood up and pulled on my pants shouting out in defiance.  "What the hell is next?" I wanted the job to end and go home. I began to feel very annoyed at the whole thing. As I glanced around the room trying in vain to locate a cigarette I caught sight of the clock.
  "Shit! That can't be right!" It was damn near 8 am by now and I had wasted 2 good hours already. I soon forgot the soreness and tired as irritation took over. The pack had one smoke left; as if I needed more crap.
    "Get the hell away from me!"  The crows scattered off the truck as I approached, hollering.
At this point I didn't care about the neighbors. After all they don't like strangers let alone ones with feathered friends.
    "I'll cook your ass if I catch ya!" I laughed at the apparent insanity of the whole thing, as I looked around to see if I had drawn attention. I was in luck as usual; not a soul around to speak of. I looked once more as the truck roared to action. Confident I had not made a bigger fool of myself, I raced down the street towards the store.
    The trip up and back made records fall. In no time I was back at the helm and throwing mud on the floor; this time with joy. I had to shake these feeling and get the work done.
    The second coat went smoother with the exception of the corners which had not dried. Both because of doing them last and the coolness at night slowed the drying time. The corners got less air movement so it was expected.
  By the afternoon I had gained enough ground back and broke for a bite around 3. In the kitchen I had glanced out the window and for a second thought I had seen something. Perhaps it was a young boy perhaps running through the yard. I looked back but nothing. Anyway the ham and cheese sandwich was taking on power. It was a wonder I even tasted it; because in the five minutes it took to make it, only a minute passed as I inhaled,reached again for the bread and mayo, settling down again to enjoy the second sandwich. Two would do the trick.
  The back screen door could have used a bit of W-D 40 to clear its throat. The screech of rusted hinges was enough to make your teeth gnash. I stepped out into the back yard to have a look. Couple of old lawn chairs; trees and leaves, an old crab trap that no doubt held many prisoners on death row awaiting execution by boiling water in its day. Now useless and broke down like some old electric chair.
  "God can't you think about something good?"
  "Does it have to be more dead things?  Thoughts seeped back into my brain. However, I headed them off at the pass by going back to work. It was short lived as usual. The corners were not a bit dryer then they were 20 minutes ago. What was I thinking? I was distracted. It was time for happy hour. Even happy four hours. Who cares? I headed down the steps for the truck.
    I slowed down as I rounded the curves; to enjoy familiar sights; when it dawned on me that the crows were no where in sight. Not on the truck; nor in the trees. I sped up toward the Nest for my answer.

  "Where else would they be Sam?" I mused.
  "They know where you’re going, where you have been!"
  "Hell. They are not just any old crows!"
  "They are those damn Oak Orchard crows!"
  I jumped from the truck before it stilled and with a hair up my ass, snatched the door open.
  "Just somebody say something right about now." I thought to myself, ready with both barrels!
    My wild eyed look seemed to focus on everything real well. The locals sensed something too; pretending I had not arrived. I settled onto my stool; as it were; smiling into thin air.
 
  "Hey everyone’s a bit nuts these days." The bar keep heard me mumbling.
  "What’s that?" He asked?
  "Nothing, I'll have a beer." He was filling it as I spoke.
  "About time I got a little respect around here. I'm an Indian. This is my place."  I mused, now grinning like a Cheshire cat.  I was in rare form for sure. The combination of sleep deprivation, hard work and some trip I must have taken, fed my fire.
  The door opened to the outside and Reddog appeared.  For a fleeting moment, I thought  that he was following me. He always seemed to show up when I did. Paranoid I guess. He slid up onto the next stool.
  “Your friends are outside I see." He reached for money . The bartender knew the move.
  “Some friends!" I swallowed hard.
  “I’m Sam, what’s your name big guy?" I already knew it, but perhaps it was a nickname.
  "You know my name." He returned to the mood I found him in last time.
  "Have you been around here all your life? Hoping to break the ice jam.
  "Too long. Can't get away from here." He trailed off with that comment.
  I didn't follow it up, and decided to let it go.
  "Could I ask you some serious questions?" I held my breath at that.
  "About the crows?" He seemed annoyed knowing my question.
  "Well about a lot of strange things that happened to me here."
  "The crows are just the start." I began to drift off in thought.
  "What’s on your mind?" He motioned for a refill. Still hunched over the bar; he seemed self conscience of his size. His paws alone were like catcher's mitts.
    Before I could decide on the first question; he offered an answer.
  "The crows are here to take a spirit away."
  "With all those damn crows, they might take away the whole damn town!"  I tried to make light of the problem bothering me.
  "You want to know or not."  Anger now traveled across his face.
  "Sorry man, it was a bad joke, I know."
  "I really need someone's opinion about something that happened to me the other day........well a lot of days." Staring into my near empty glass.
  "Voices!"  He barked; his granite like relief of a face peered through me for a few seconds.
  "You hear voices too." I asked in disbelief.
  "The crows were talking?" His annoyance was growing. No doubt patience was something that had not been passed along in his genes.
  " I awoke from what I thought was a dream but I couldn't move." I continued. "A voice started to talk to me.Tell me things." I looked off into space across the room behind him, as I talked; hoping I wasn't to loud.
  "The crows were supposed to be some kind of sign for me; so that I would believe what the voice told me was real." Seriousness enforced my words.
  " Dream state."  He seemed to forget his annoyance.
    A look appeared upon his face, hard to read; interest perhaps but something else.
  "It is called a dream state." He seemed puzzled as his gaze seemed to drift off somewhere else.  He sat motionless, expressionless; as if he went to another place.
    "So what is this dream state thing?" My question brought him back.
    " I have to go." He seemed agitated, hurried, as he gathered up his change and threw the keep a tip.
    "Come on! You did this last time I asked you something. What the hell is going on around this place, anyway?" My voice took a tone that surprised even me.
    "Go to the tree and ask." He rose and headed for the exit again.
    "The tree?"
    "Not that big tree....?" The door parted and he was gone.
    I rose for the door myself; out of knee jerk response; but stopped short as I knew there would be no sign of him. I stared at the door for how long was anyone’s guess. Then turned and looked around the bar; studied every face; every item hanging on the walls; anything that might have a hint of reality to it. My jaw sagging down, froze in place. In time I made my way to my seat. Disbelief was overwhelmed now by a numb feeling in my head. I couldn't form thoughts or words. And at the same time my brain was like a vortex inside; spinning faster and faster as I tried desperately to fathom what the hell was going on. Slowly I retrieved my money and emptied the draft. The cock sure attitude I entered with had vanished with Reddog's parting words.
    The sight of the tree from down the road was inescapable. My foot eased down on the brake pedal as our paths crossed. Strangely the tree was taking on meaning now. There was something about that damn tree too. As I neared my turn; out the corner of my eye; was a lone crow, far atop the mighty oak. The feathered sentry, making sure I hadn't forgot. My place in time began to feel like there was indeed a real importance for my being here. I wanted to know more. I wasn't leaving this place until I knew.

WC 2821