09-13-2016, 03:53 PM
Jon parked the rented 4x4 and turned off the ignition. There was a flurry of activity. It looked like the start of a military invasion. Or the first day of Staff Week for summer camp. He snorted at the last one. Definitely not your typical summer vacation getaway. Arts and crafts, canoe races and campfire songs would probably not be high on the list of activities. This was about survival.
It was already getting a little chilly out here, even in the midst of the summer. Winds from up north carried down polar storm systems even now and they ripped right across the plains. Come winter it would be nigh inhospitable, without adequate shelter. He pulled his red leather jacket closed, patting his inside pocket to make sure nothing had moved around. Nope, all was secure. Good.
Up ahead, by the large utility truck, Jon made out twin white braids leaning on the open door. Noah. Of course he'd be here. He walked up toward him. But Noah spoke first. How, by the Great Spirit, did he know it was Jon?
"That was my intention,"
he replied, stepping up beside Noah. "I'm not surprised to find you here."
"I am where I am, Jon," the medicine man said, turning his eyes at him. Those were old eyes, indeed. They seemed to penetrate into his head. "You've been avoiding me in the Spirit World. Careful you do not keep sticking your paws into the trap before you know what it will do."
What was the man talking about? Traps? He left the accusation fall to the ground and lie there. "So this will be it. The great Spiritual Development Institute. Why aren't there more than six? You told me that there are a greater incidence of the Sickness among our peoples."
He peered at the bluff. Red in the evening glow. Like fire and iron. "We are very far behind indeed. I have seen as much in Moscow."
Noah cackled. "There are consequences for all actions, Jon. Both good and bad. Ripples in a pond that spread outward farther than we often can see. But sometimes we can guess. Your time in Moscow cost you dearly. But perhaps some good came of it."
Jon snorted. By the Great Spirit, though, he was right, shamed as he was to admit it. So much time lost. They were going to have to be clever to keep from getting rolled over in this brave new world. "I suppose I should thank you,"
he said. "I now know that what you did saved my life. But I don't trust you."
Noah shook with mirth. The man really was paddling on the wrong side of his canoe. "It is not me you should distrust, but your own impertinence. Your own impatience, and lack of judgment. Your failure to see. Like ripples in a pond, they come together, and form waves. A butterfly flaps his wings and an earthquake happens. All these things are not so unknowable if you know where to look."
Well fine, then. Jon ground his teeth. He wasn't going to let Noah goad him tonight, he had too little time to waste. He pulled out the wrapped object from his coat. "Come,"
he said, taking a step toward the developing campsite. "Let's go down to see them. I have something to show you."
It was already getting a little chilly out here, even in the midst of the summer. Winds from up north carried down polar storm systems even now and they ripped right across the plains. Come winter it would be nigh inhospitable, without adequate shelter. He pulled his red leather jacket closed, patting his inside pocket to make sure nothing had moved around. Nope, all was secure. Good.
Up ahead, by the large utility truck, Jon made out twin white braids leaning on the open door. Noah. Of course he'd be here. He walked up toward him. But Noah spoke first. How, by the Great Spirit, did he know it was Jon?
"That was my intention,"
he replied, stepping up beside Noah. "I'm not surprised to find you here."
"I am where I am, Jon," the medicine man said, turning his eyes at him. Those were old eyes, indeed. They seemed to penetrate into his head. "You've been avoiding me in the Spirit World. Careful you do not keep sticking your paws into the trap before you know what it will do."
What was the man talking about? Traps? He left the accusation fall to the ground and lie there. "So this will be it. The great Spiritual Development Institute. Why aren't there more than six? You told me that there are a greater incidence of the Sickness among our peoples."
He peered at the bluff. Red in the evening glow. Like fire and iron. "We are very far behind indeed. I have seen as much in Moscow."
Noah cackled. "There are consequences for all actions, Jon. Both good and bad. Ripples in a pond that spread outward farther than we often can see. But sometimes we can guess. Your time in Moscow cost you dearly. But perhaps some good came of it."
Jon snorted. By the Great Spirit, though, he was right, shamed as he was to admit it. So much time lost. They were going to have to be clever to keep from getting rolled over in this brave new world. "I suppose I should thank you,"
he said. "I now know that what you did saved my life. But I don't trust you."
Noah shook with mirth. The man really was paddling on the wrong side of his canoe. "It is not me you should distrust, but your own impertinence. Your own impatience, and lack of judgment. Your failure to see. Like ripples in a pond, they come together, and form waves. A butterfly flaps his wings and an earthquake happens. All these things are not so unknowable if you know where to look."
Well fine, then. Jon ground his teeth. He wasn't going to let Noah goad him tonight, he had too little time to waste. He pulled out the wrapped object from his coat. "Come,"
he said, taking a step toward the developing campsite. "Let's go down to see them. I have something to show you."