Ella squeezes my hand and gives me a sideways look, scrutinizing me. I feel that she's looking to see how serious I am, how truthful I am, and I am so reminded of Artie I get a pain in my side. We are almost back She kisses my cheek, then drops my hand and runs on ahead.

      "Hey, guys, what have we got to eat?" She is really young, or I am really old.

      The guys do have food. I don't ask how come. I am not to eat. I can drink water until dark. It will be dark here a little after six, and it is almost five now.

      "Excuse me.. I'm going down to the river and bathe. OK?"

      Nods do as answers. Mouths are full. There is an air of strangeness even conspiracy now among them. Is it because Ella and I went off alone? I can't conceive of this group caring about that.

      Hans and Fritz are so boisterous and full of jokes and baseball scores and politics. They never seem to get tired of talking to each other, and Ben grins, listens, strums his guitar if he's resting; saves his breath when we're working. I guess he saves his voice. It can't be easy to be the only music man from 9 to 2 most nights.

      I pick up my book bag and go down to the water. This is not so deserted. There are fishermen downstream and hikers on the trail. I seclude myself as well as I can, and take off my clothes with all the confidence I possess.. Oh good Lord this is cold water. Many years since I have done this, a quick soaping here and there, a ducking, and as I come up out of the water I ask the spirits to help drain negativity off and out of me and into the water to flow away and disperse doing no harm. I feel this happen.

      I shiver as I get my thin, small towel and scrub to warm up and dry off. Boy, clothing feels wonderful even if it is not spanking clean. The big sweaters in the bottom of my bag are really needed tonight as are my few other things in a little black felt bag I call my medicine bag. I pull everything out and put the damp towel back. When all my clothes are on me, I tie my medicine bag onto my belt loop beside my path knife.

      As my ritual bath ends, I go a little way upstream and fill a bottle to drink from one last time before my quest. I keep my eyes wide open scanning the surroundings and the trail as I walk slowly back in the twilight. Red berries we call thimble berries are on low growing bushes and there's some squaw carpet. There is a tiny little yellow flower in bloom. I don't recognize it. The trees have very little moss on them. I assume it's too dry here just a bit above the dessert.

      I am clearing my mind for the night ahead. I take my path knife and cut some sweet bark off a birch, just a tiny spot. He won't miss it. I have been careful. I spy a blue tail feather. Oh, I bet it is from the crested blue jays so common here in the Alpine country. I put it in my bag, along with someother items and get some pine needles dry as I can find by the trail.

      I see a cedar we marked out before, and in case the guys had forgotten I went over and scraped some cedar into my wet towel for punk. I had a bit of punk in my bag and my tobacco, of course. I found the most wonderful thing just before I got back on the upper trail to the Medicine Wheel, a pure white rock the size of my thumb. When I picked it up, it was warm. It felt alive. It felt familiar. The breeze which always sings in the aspen seemed louder, and I though I heard way far off in the distance the sound of the flutes and drums that I so love. Like a hymn I could hear the voices of the flutes in a canyon like a dream or a memory of long ago. My. stone lay snugly in the fist I made. The bird fluttered in my throat. I am ready.

      I said to Ella and Ben, "I am ready to be alone now. I hope you know how much I appreciate what you have done helping me build the wheel."

      Ella looked stubborn. "We want to stay. You may not be safe here."

      "Well," I answered, "that's the whole idea I have to establish, that I can stay even if it's frightening".

      Fritz looked at me. "Well, whatever game you want to play in your Medicine Wheel and your Vision Quest, Hans and I think you need someone around."

      I know I have given in and they will stay. No one wanted to go home. I was thinking perhaps this is not a real Vision Quest. After all, I have driven some pretty good roads and some not too good, and I survived my panic. Here I am out in public, oh not in a city, but certainly in public. I'm not out seeking my vision alone because somehow I have picked up some kind of entourage. Smoke Man Dancing said I must utilize all the things given to me so, I will. I surely haven't had any other signs. I have been given company.

      Hans and Fritz said, not at once even though it seems as though they speaktogether, "Laura, you said that a person seeking an answer can have outside help. Right outside the Wheel you said there were dancers. Could we have a small bonfire over here and join if it seems OK?"

      I answered, "All right, but please remember that this is not a joke to me. If you're serious and respect that this is serious with me then you may stand stay. That means you stay outside the circle. You will see very little except some singing perhaps, some drumming and maybe some dancing. Those two will probably go to sleep and you and Hans may, too. This is not led by a Shaman, so it is mostly my meditation. Please don't interfere with that". They nodded in agreement like a couple of kids, then went off to dig a clear space and build a rock container for their little watch fire.

      I am very tired now. I had not slept for two days and a night. Today I had only a small meal, and my stomach was growling. I really know now that all of my companions are Smoke Man's idea. He is protecting me still. I must have this night.

      Ben was grinning at me "I guess you want to show me something," I say.

      He put a small willow-hide handmade drum in my hand. It is like a tambourine without bells, it is well done. He had stretched his leather cap over a circle of willow branches and using extra guitar gut string he affixed it and hung it wet earlier that day. I was impressed. I could hardly believe it. but it made a very nice hollow sound. He had taken a broken limb, wrapped the end first in leaves till he had a soft bundle about 3 inches in diameter, then he had wrapped it in a handkerchief folded in fours and bound around the leaves. It made a good muffle drumstick. He began thumping a rhythm. He was good, of course. He was the Music Man.

      "I guess I can teach Ella to drum rhythm, and I will use the guitar. It may not be traditional, but the chords can be made to sound a lot like drumming with a flat hand doing what some call string slapping".

      He showed me. He was right it made an effective drum. He changed chords and also alternated his drumming from the strings to the back of the guitar for strange effects. It sounded like a large set of drums. Ben and Ella sat cross-legged under a willow on the ground. They began practicing while I got my small ritual fire going on my center rock. When I had a neat little flame going and nice coals under, I tossed in a handful of punk. As the smoke rose I glanced at the two young people now drumming nice soft earth drumming sounds, an insistent slow heartbeat. Soothing. I was looking a little through the side of my eyes and I turned quickly because for a second I believe I see an old woman and a young boy with hide robes on sitting there, an illusion, of course. I came here to be seeing things and I do.

      I laugh it off until I glanced over and first saw two warriors in full paint and gear from some ancient tribe. What? They were Hans and Fritz, building their fire. Sitting there telling jokes, that's all. I am jittery, and the darker it gets, the more I wish I was back in my cabin.

      I call, "Ella and Ben, come on in. I have purified the Wheel, and now it is your turn, then we can close the wheel to hold the power in".

      They come and sit close to the fire. I pull the east stone into place behind me. Facing East I call for Ancestors. The door is closed, and my quest is really beginning.

      I wave smoke over them and around them and think, Smoke Man Dancing, if you hear me ask the ancestors to bless us and keep us safe. My intention is to release the fear that has been crippling me. My intention is to find a new way and a new path. As once I found a new way with your help, in the past. Life has many twists and turns. Mine has taken a turn I can't assimilate. Let the ancestors assist me.

      I did not say this out loud yet when I finished, Ella and Ben began drumming again, soft and slow. Undue the first level of awareness, it became a background like the heartbeat of the earth and the trees and the night sky around us. The drumming enters the earth and comes up through my feet.

      I feed the fire bits and pieces and fell into a reverie. I don't know how long this lasts or what I was thinking.

      I put some more tobacco on the fire and bless the fire and the ancestors who taught fire making. I put on a another handful of punk. I am moved finally by my feet, to rise and begin a slow walk around the two by the fire. At first it was a shuffle, then I began to beat time with my feet on the ground. I lift my head and over in the dim fire light by the willows I could have sworn I saw a group of men dancing around the fire, glistening skin, loincloths flapping, dust kicked up around their feet.

      Then I am flying. I land with a thump. Where am I, I think. What's up? This must be a dream. I must have fallen asleep. I stand up and realize I am on a mountain. Pine trees, well, pine trees these were and scrub brush. Well, hoopdedo, I'm on Pine Cone Mountain after all.

      Where's the medicine wheel? My companions. I can still hear the drums they are playing, but now they're loud and insistent, marching me around and around. I fall to the ground in a sweat. It was cold and I did not feel uncomfortable.

      "You need a fire," I hear someone tell me. I saw a fire. I get up and walk over where it was casting shadows and find Ella, not Ella, me as a very old lady. She is feeding the fire and mumbling and complaining. This is my Vision. This is Laura at the end of her aging. I like this old lady. Sheis lovely. She is ancient. She is not sweet.

      When I start to sit down something reaches up and pinches me. I jump and think ants, spiders. It pinches me again and I holler, "Stop that!" and it stops.

      A load buzzing accompanies the drumming now and in front of me in the smoke a strange shaman is sort of leering at me. I want to ask a question but he scowls at me. I sat down finally very close to Ella-not-Ella and askif she knows me.

      "What difference does it make? You are here. I am here Now we know each other, and I wish we didn't. Gimme a cigarette. It's cold, and I hate this buzzing."

      The buzz is louder, more insistent, and I know it wants me to state my intention, why I built the wheel, what kind of power did I want. I look at the Shaman in the smoke of the fire. He now looked more benign; still he is a stranger to me.

      I try to be very clear. "I want release from my fear of leaving my house. I want release from thinking I am going to die immediately when my throat closes, and I sweat and my heart pounds. The only power I want is power to find my own soul." I take out the rock. "Smoke Man has a rock like this for his soul. I want this rock to hold my soul."

      I feel a blow on the back of my shoulders. The rock flies out of my hands, and I know I'm making something very angry.

      Again I creep toward the old lady for comfort. She is fixated on her own pain, her own fear. I begin thinking I made a very bad mistake. This vision is not a happy vision. What miserable kind of help is this? I hear the buzzing increase, and the air becomes thick and heavy and presses me into the ground. I was sinking and dying, and I thought, "Well, this is it. You asked for it. You're a big crybaby. What have you been afraid of? Just this? Old age? Just getting to be this old lady. A light is in my eye.

      I am able to sit finally. I sit hunched over crossed legs and arms, staring intently down a hole that has appeared in the ground. Out comes a parade of Laura's. It was as if you took crazy mirrors of every different kind, put them in front of Laura, then arranged for that tall Laura to become real. I was aghast at the sight. Here they came, tall ones, short ones, skinny and fat, every color of the rainbow, old, young children dressed like clowns and cowboys and tramps and sophisticated ladies, and here come naked ones.

      At first I gasp with horror. Then as I see a green fat lumpy one it becomes funny, and I was laughing. Actually, I become hysterical. All those Laura's. I reach out, but draw my hand back. I come into my right mind.

      No, no, remember it is an illusion. My heart, which is beating so fast it makes me dizzy, begins to settle down. I looked up and away. I holler as loud as can. "Ha, that was really funny! What does it mean? Am I supposed to know? Stop that noise right now, it is annoying as hell!"

      Laughter comes out of the dull coals. I throw some punk on them. The smoke reveals the stranger shaman.

      Through the smoke and the firelight, I see the ancient yet lovely face of my companion. She's feeding sticks to the little fire. She's muttering. "I want to go home. This is so stupid to sit out here where it is cold and damp. I'm never going to be able to walk again in the condition my bones are in. My aches and pains are too bad right now."

      "Please, please shut up!" I said.

      I think that last little shock was a lesson. All the different appearances were illusion. All appearance may be illusion. Now it's very clear to me. I've been afraid of aging. I've been afraid of appearance, so afraid I couldn't take care of myself. Ella-not-Ella as she appears now shows me how beauty ages. That is the future so if you fear it you live with your fear Make a friend of it. I begin to to relax. I begin to get it.

      When the harsh buzzing comes down again, I curl in a ball, my hands over my ears, my head down as far into my curled self as I can get it. I won't look, will not look. Oh my where have I dropped my stone? I begin scrabbling on my hands and knees now, looking and feeling around the ground. The cloud of fussing and buzzing is wrapping itself around me and I know I could suffocate.

      In my mind was one thought, my stone. I want it in my hand. As I feel thesmooth outline, I pick it up and hold it in cupped hands If this is truly my self, and I lost my self in the buzzing and fussiness the spirits are throwing around me I would still know my self if I had this in my hand or not. The important stuff is not outside me. That's another illusion. I am here inside myself, This stone is a physical representation to me of finding me. I can keep it and wear it as Smoke Man does, but it is just a reminder. When will I learn.?

      I tuck the stone in my pocket, its meaning totally changed now. It does not hold my soul. I am already everything, body and soul. Clinging to these thoughts, I begin to fight back. I feel very much like when I was a child and someone bullied another child at school. Protective. Strong.enough. Able to stop a bully.

      I jump to my feet screaming, hollering, "Go ahead, buzz away, fling your thick air at me." I stamp around the fire yelling and shaking my fists. I see a grinning face in the smoke before me. I swing from the shoulder before I can stop myself. Slap, my hand connects and it stings. The face disappears. The buzz stops. The air clears up. I dropped to a squat and hold the ancient bones of my companion, whoever she is, in my arms. I say, "Come on. Stand up and walk. It feels better. Let's walk around the fire. The worst of this vision must be over it is almost dawn."

      I walk the hunched figure slowly around and around. The one who might or might not be Ella begins to straighten up now and stretch. She is able to walk alone and we stop to listen.

      The forest around us has fallen into silence. The hiss of the creek carried up the bank. A breeze, always active here stirs the aspen making the trees whisper.. We put our arms around each other and stand breathing calmly. Now after the last attack, somehow I am ready to fight.

      I say, "When I came on this Vision Quest, somehow I thought I would control it and myself. I had only the intention of losing my fear. I didn't know I would be fighting spirits who do not fight fair. I should have known, but until now I didn't understand my power. The spirits and ancestors make you work hard for power. You pay for all your power one way or another."

      I sit there thinking about that. Well, I can't say I was thinking, really. I was reacting now that the fight had come to blows. That had startled me. I am as close to Ella-not-Ella as I can get, trying to get some warmth into the old lady bones, holding her close and wrapping my arms around the old bones. I was forgetting myself, I was forgiving myself in this calmness and this caring.

      The suddenness of the dark, enveloping, furry blanket that falls around us startles me. I try to jump, push it away, but we are thrown to the ground wrapped up, rolled around, High giggles were all around us. I say in a loud and commanding voice, "Let this woman alone. Do your tricks to me, but leave her. She asks for nothing. She has used her power. Just leave her".

      Then I feel the whole rug wrapped around us tightly as we are lifted. Bang, we are rolled against something. I sit up, free of the binding and that sense of suffocation. The little bird is not fluttering in my throat. It was sitting in front of me, and it isn't little. It's a very large hawk, sitting there, with only one eye staring at me. I very quietly reach out, open my hand, palm up, showing I am harmlessness. Hawk too, seemed to be very quiet, showing her harmlessness. She is exactly like any big red hawk seen in the mountains but she was mostly white, an old white one-eyed hawk. She flies up suddenly to a tree limb. I saw up there through the trees the good wonderful color of the sky lightning up as dawn approached. I felt like I would never see daylight again. I was sore, and tired and hungry.

      I walk a minute or two. I knew I had been on Pine Cone Mountain. I remember distinctly that I had my vision on Pine Cone Mountain. I whirlaround. Ella, where is she? Oh, that old lady, the ally who said she was Ella was gone. And the music man who had drummed me into my Vision. And Hans. And Fritz. Allies, sometimes enemies, gone. Poof.

      I look up at the calm white hawk. I am not back in my Medicine Wheel. I am not on Pine Cone Mountain. Where am I?

      It's getting lighter and lighter now. The pale rose and yellows of dawn light gathering, gathering. I see the Hawk gather herself up for a flight. As she flew away, I followed.

      I stumble a little, then got my walking balance. I find the trail, rather my feet find the trail. My eyes follow the flight of the white hawk who disappears in the low light of dawn. I come to the rock slide going down to the river and carefully maneuver over the rolling pebbles and rocks. I stick my hand in my pocket. My rock. Well, I can keep it to remind me that self, myself, was strong. I gained the insight that I can face fear, but I know with a body knowing what the mind always knew about fear. Fear is the enemy itself.

      I felt free and calm inside my own head,inside myself. Self-contained has a lot of meaning right now. Self-contained, I said. That's the new me. My new line is self-contained. I will carry White Hawk now as my secret name. I released Feathered White Bird.

      I come to the river and know exactly where I am. The sun is just now looking over the east bank of the river. I kneel, cup my hands and drink dipping over and over again into the ice cold water. . I sit back on my heels. O, good morning Grandmother Sun, Good morning all my ancestors. A new day. A Blessing. I ask to be allowed to give and receive blessings this day. I look down when something bumps me. Beloved my ally. I begin the hike back up the trail to wind my way home and ask my guide, Smoke Man Dancing for a song.