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| Lower World by � artnsolitude This is the first part of a scene from my book. The main character, Rick (a recently published author), and his girlfriend Champi (an anthropology professor and recently certified private pilot), are visiting an old medicine man with hopes of finding some information about the mysterious disappearances he wrote about in his first book. Champi is so named because her baby brother could never pronounce her given name, Champney, which was taken from her g'ma's surname. The old medicine man drew out a few dried leaves from a worn chamois pouch and added them to the contents of the abalone shell that served as his incense burner. Removing a burning ember from the fire, he lit the offering, sending a thick cloud of sweet pungent smoke drifting upward to the rafters of the wigewa and out through the smoke hole. His long white hair was parted in the middle, with two thick braids falling to the breast of his faded navy blue shirt with the navajo patterns. The familiar patterns, once bright red and orange, were now faded to an off peach and pink. His hands were nut brown and gnarled, and his thick yellow fingernails told of many years spent communing with the spirits of tobacco. And his eyes, his piercing grey eyes, held their gaze with a surity, a wisdom, and a knowledge that was beyond time. With a fan made from the brown feathers of some bird known only to him, he fanned the glowing embers lightly to create more smoke. Then holding the smoking shell first to the heavens, and then to the two visitors, he bathed them both from head to toe with smoke, all the while fanning the burning sage with short crisp strokes. It had been years since Rick had been smudged, yet the smoke surrounded him with a cloying tenacity that seemed to say, "I remember you." The spirits of the sage seemed ready for this, as if they knew their job, why they had been called forth. Rick took it as a good sign. The shaman seemed to expect it and nodded approvingly, but said nothing, still occupied with his preparations. He kneeled before Rick, dipping his index finger into an unmarked vial of oil, then crossed him by touching it to his forehead, chest, left shoulder, then right, chanting softly in the tongue of his people to the spirits of the four directions. He repeated the process with Champi, who sat still as death under his ministrations. Then he resumed his seat across the fire from them, crosslegged, still holding the shell of burning sage. It smoked heavily, surrounding his head and face as he sat before them, giving him an eerie, otherworldly quality that spoke of ancient secrets hidden behind the veil of time. His craggy countenance remained stone solemn as he prepared them to enter the lower world where they hoped to find the answers they so desperately sought. As instructed, Rick and Champi quieted themselves and focused their attention on the firepit. The shaman beat a slow cadence on his drum. They were both momentarily distracted as they wondered from where he had produced the instrument, which was too large to easily be hidden in the small confines of the wood and thatch hut that served as his fire chamber. Within moments, the incessant slow, dull, ringing thud of the drum brought them back to their meditiations. They allowed their eyes to become unfocused as they stared at the black coals of the pit, imagining a doorway into the darkness that was interspersed among the flaming brilliance of the fire. Closing their eyes, they imagined themselves, their spirits, their consciousness, squeezing through the tiny doorway that is the entrance to the tunnel that leads to the many levels below their own. As he moved along the tunnel, the wormhole, with it's undulating walls and protruding roots, Rick noticed that he no longer felt the heat or saw the light from the medicine fire. The tunnel had gone dark behind him. He wasn't sure if he had shrunk, or the tunnel had grown when he entered, only that it felt perfectly normal, as it should be. Down, down he traveled, alone, making his way soundlessly, hypnotically toward the cavern that he remembered from his last adventure in journeying so many years ago. How many years, he wondered, as the rippling walls passed by with blinding speed. Seven years? Eight? He had signed up for a native American seminar, not really knowing what to expect, only that he had be interested in learning more about their spirituality. When he had called it religion, they had quickly corrected him. What the native American does shouldn't be called religion, they said, there are too many negative connotations associated with that word. Too much dogma, too much pain. He knew about spiritual pain. Seconds passed, a minute, he was losing concentration, couldn't focus on the walls of the tunnel. Rick's journey stopped abruptly at the first level, long before he had completed his descent. He looked around, noting quickly that this level was in most ways exactly like the world he had just left, with one difference. Here he had found his animal spirits waiting for him. A large, brown Kodiak bear came strolling up to his right side, and he stroked the massive head as a Bald Eagle alighted on his left shoulder. He felt it's weight as it settled, adjusting it's great wings. His great head and fierce eyes burn into Rick's as he nearly wept in happiness on seeing them again. He feared that they may have abandoned him for neglecting them for so long. The Eagle screeched and he heard the words translated inside his head, "We are with you always, and will not abandon you. Though you need to spend more time here with us." Rick responded in the affirmative, knowing the Eagle was right. "But it is so difficult for me. To visualize and keep this world in my head. I'm always distracted by the world. I find myself bouncing back and forth, fighting to maintain my presence here." Rick told him as he absently stroked the head of the lounging bear. "It is always difficult at first, that is why you must come here often. In time, your skills will increase. You will be able to put aside that world for longer periods of time. We are always here to protect you, even at times when you don't realize it. But there is another reason why you delay in returning, is there not?" The Eagle answered his own question, divining Rick's thoughts. "You still doubt that we are real. You believe that we are creations of your own imagination and therefore give little heed to our words." Rick nodded sheepishly, wondering once again if this were actually an eagle speaking to him, or merely his imagination placing words into the eagle's mouth, uhh, beak. "I sense that it is a difficult thing for you to release your fears and doubts, but that you must do, if we are to ever become truly as one. It has been the same with you regarding your religion as well. You have doubts about the truth of the Christ and therefore fail to become as one with Him." Rick nodded again, knowing that words were unnecessary for the eagle to know his heart. "Remember," said he, "that things that are Holy are revealed only to men that are Holy." Uncomfortable, and feeling the tug of his body back at the firepit, Rick commented that he felt the need to return to the world, at which the bear stood up on his hind legs and faced him. He said that Rick needed more time here with them and wouldn't allow him to leave just yet. The great bear came forward and what began as a bear hug, turned into a brief wrestling match, Rick against his friend the bear. Rick laughed out loud in spite of himself. This was fun and somehow Rick knew that the bear wouldn't hurt him, so they continued rolling around on the grass a few moments longer as the Eagle looked on, his fierce visage unreadable. Rick stood up slowly, not needing to rest, not here, and looked from the eagle to the now cold, dark firepit. "Where can we go? I would like to fly with you again. Can we go down?" Rick said, motioning toward the firepit. "We will." He said, and instantly the three of them were flying wraithlike through the corridors of the lower world to that vast cavern where they first met. What a beautiful place this is. It struck Rick as being the place of the first creation. Everything so new and fresh, lit by an unexplicable glow at the horizon that was enough to fill the void. It should be dark, he thought, but then remembered that the lower world worked on a different set of rules. "The glow you see is from the world you left, separated by a thin veil of spirit through which only light may pass. The door you have entered is the only entrance for you to this particular reality." As they moved from the tunnel toward the light, they were confronted by the vague form of an indian man, with a full headress, who stood across the opening of the cavern. As they appproached, the shadow of the indian disappeared into the darkness. He was the same one who was here on his first visit, Rick recalled. He looked questiongly at the eagle, who seemed to have all the answers. "He is the guardian of this doorway that you have opened. As we approached, he recognized us and removed himself to guard the upper door against unwanted guests." Rick's questioning look didn't resolve itself, so the eagle continued. "There are spirits of creatures who ever seek to do harm to those who travel in the lower worlds, you may call them demons, others may call them sprites, but they are evil, and should be avoided and guarded against. The Indian is the guardian of this doorway. Your doorway." "But who is he, and why is guarding me?" Rick persisted. "I mean, what have I done to deserve this special attention. The headdress mark him as someone who was very special back in the world." "It is because of your words that he is here." He knows the words that were his, that have once again been spoken by you in your time. You have honored him by remembering his words, so he honors you as the protector of your sacred space. While you are here, in this place, with any one of the three of us, you are safe." Rick accepted his explanation and turned once again to the opening into the cavern, where bear already stood. They looked out at the expansiveness of the cavern from the mouth of the tunnel, he and the bear. The Eagle was perched off to the side on a rocky outcropping. Just outside the opening, the floor fell away into the cavern, a drop so steep that he couldn't begin to focus on the bottom or determine it's depth. As he look outward into the distance, he could see the familiar vista of the cavern, the fir trees falling away into the distant valley, the surrounding white capped peaks of the new formed mountains, the icy lake far below, and without fear or hesitation, he dove headlong into the void, knowing that he would be joined by eagle as he fell. The eagle, swooping down from the cliff, became one with Rick - flying companions, brothers, soulmates in a manner not known in the other world. He saw the silvery outline of a lake trout in the water a thousand feet below and knew what it meant to see with the vision of an eagle. He felt the wind under his wings as they flew, seeming to float effortlessly through the thin cold air. He knew he should be freezing in the cold air at this altitude, but was comforted by the hot blood of the eagle and the warmth of his feathery insulation. They chose not to hunt this time, as they did the last, and instead were joined by a female eagle spirit looking for a mate. They rolled over backwards in mock battle, showing the female their fierceness, and the sharpness of their 2 inch talons. She knew they would make a suitable mate when the time came. Accepted, they flew together toward yonder peaks, wingtip to wingtip, their minds as one, inseparable. Rick knew that he could not go where they must and was reminded of bear, waiting patiently at the cavern mouth. They took leave of their companion and flew quickly, almost instantaneously back to their lofty perch. Without conscious thought, Rick found himself once again standing next to bear, once again separated from eagle. He relished the experience, no, his soul leapt for joy at the experience eagle had given him; To know what it is to be eagle! To feel his freedom and his power, his vision and his joy of flying. The power of this memory was almost more than his soul could contain. He looked down at bear by his side, wishing he could fly so they could become one also. Sensing his thoughts, he stared up at Rick with his smallish eyes and said, "We need not fly to become one. Eagle's joy may be flying, but my joy and passion are strength and play. Come with me." Bear began lumbering slowly down a trail that Rick hadn't noticed before, it's beginning just to the right of the cavern mouth. He followed the bear for a short while, until they came to a place where Rick found he couldn't pass unaided. Then bear instructed him to climb upon his back and in that way they would continue together. Rick did so, feeling the rippling muscles under the bear's thick fur, as he clung precariously to the broad back. One moment, Rick felt he was falling headfirst down the steep slope, and the next, he was clinging tenaciously, powerfully to the rough terrain with four inch claws that suddenly protruded from his massive paws. He felt the power that came so naturally to bear, the strength that was his trademark. He smelled the blood of living creatures that crossed the wind before them and knew hunger. But their destination today was not the hunt, for though bear lusted for the kill as was his spirit and his instinct, today they would come together with other bear spirits, and their human companions, as was Rick, at the dance circle. Halfway down the slope, yet miles from the cavern mouth, they entered a clearing surrounded by the sweet, acrid smell of Red Cedar and Douglas Firs. In the center of the clearing was a fire, already stoked and burning of the seven sacred woods. Several bears of all shapes and sizes had begun to gather, and were now beginning their slow lumbering, swaying dance around the fire. With bears eyes, Rick looked at the other dancers, one by one, this being his first time, noticing that all of the eyes that found his were at once both human and bear. Their was a mixture of emotions in those eyes, ranging from fear, apparently another first timer, to reverence, to serenity, to rage, to absolute elation and joy. Rick found himself to be dancing, following the movements of the others, circling and swaying always in a clockwise direction, feeling the power of the dance as they gave themselves over to it and to the Great Spirit, the Creator that they had come to honor. They danced in this timeless place, where the sun held no dominion until one by one, the dancers move slowly from the firelight and returned to their other world. Slowly, inexorably drawn to it's conlusion, as the fire dwindled to coals, the dance ended. Bear and Rick, still one, made the long lumbering trek back up the mountainside to the cavern far above, where joined by eagle, they made the much faster journey to that other world that so resembled his own. Rick wondered on their return, 'Are not all of these worlds, all of these places, now my own? Hadn't bear and eagle just given them to me by our shared experience?' As they arrived at the firepit, in the world one level down from his own, they were once again visited by the old warrior, still faceless, who seeing us, faced the cold, dark blackness of the hole and disappeared back in the direction we had come. Gone to protect my inner space, Rick gathered He glanced around for eagle and bear, now apart from him, and noticed that they were watching him attentively, as if waiting for him to speak. He thought once again of the troubles that they were facing in the so-called real world, and began to form a question. "Are the portals real?" He asked, somewhat naively, stalling for time to think of a more telling question. "Is this portal real?" Eagle responded, gesturing with one feathered wing toward the firepit where we had entered the tunnels to the lower world an indeterminate amount of time past. "Certainly, but this portal is a portal into my subconscious or something. I mean, I get to it through my mind." Rick fumbled for the proper words, still trying to get a mental grip on the reality of where he had been and what he had seen. "Yes, that is true." Eagle said patiently, "But does that make it any less real?" "No, I guess not. I suppose it's just a matter of perception." "So, how do you perceive the other portals?" "With infrared." He said, beginning to see his point. "What you're saying is that it's all just a matter of perception." "Or more accurately and simply, perhaps," said the eagle, " it is not so much a matter of, but a method of, perception." "Of course! It's just a matter of how you see things, and there are a lot of different ways of seeing things. Two-d, three-d, in focus, out of focus, infra-red," He trailed off thoughtfully. "Some animals can see infra-red, can't they." "To be sure." Bear rolled over on his side, slumbering contentedly, apparently disinterested in this turn of conversation. Rick scratched his broad side and he groaned happily, relishing the attention. Eagle was silent for a long moment, then offered that Rick's time here was almost at an end. There were others who needed his attention. At which, Rick stood up gracefully, weightlessly, and thanked them for their continued assistance. At their repeated assurance that they would always be within reach, Rick returned to the level, the world, of breath and pain. Still seated across from them was the old shaman that had taken them on this journey, watching him intently, wordless still. Beside him was Champi, sitting quietly, thoughtfully with her chin on her knees, staring at the dying embers of the fire. The shaman watched them for a few moments more, handed each of them a medium sized metal stone, which he called Hematite, and wordlessly left the chamber, leaving Rick and Champi alone. She spoke first, not taking her eyes from the coals. "I was worried about you, you were asleep so long," she said," but the old man wouldn't let me touch you. He said you could be lost forever." "He was right not to disturb me. But I was fine. I was with friends." Champi looked at him curiously, "Me, too." She said. "But I just wish I knew if they were real. It would be so beautiful if they were." Rick looked at her sympathetically, knowing exactly how she felt, since he, too, had had similar doubts when he first journeyed. She smiled slightly peeking at him over her pretty shoulder. "I know." He said, reaching his hand to take hers, noticing the stream of a tear glistening on her cheek. - fin |