I led the way again, almost at a march, irked by Colby’s selfish attitude. But then it was Colby, not the Dalai Lama or Bill Gates or Warren Buffet. With nightfall fully upon us, and the canopy blocking the moony light, the disturbed needles were becoming more difficult to make out. After a few minutes back on the trail, our march slowed to a walk.
I’d walked the bush many times at night while on my way home from Leena’s. She lived a few miles away from Whispering Cedars on her parents’ large dairy farm. Coming home from Pratt and Dolen Secondary School, on my first day, I noticed her reading a book while everyone else horsed around. And on the second day, I struck up a conversation which led to a friendship. I’d visit her on weekends to watch movies, mostly old comedies, sometimes with her and her older brother, Bruce, and his girlfriend, Debbie. These were the memories that surfaced while I walked along a trail on another world.
About halfway to the light, another one appeared. I stopped dead on the trail and raised my hand up to signal the others to stop. The new light joined the other one and they both moved in that high-low circular pattern.
“That’s so not them,” whispered Tabby. “No way.”
“She’s right,” whispered Colby. “Let’s go back to that spot with them unicorns.”
Captivated by the lights, I didn’t reply. I was unsure of what to do next. Then the pattern changed. The lights revolved low to the ground horizontally, and slowly spiraled up and up to well above head height, then down quickly. And then it hit me. The fire dancers that I watched at a carnival once when I was a kid. I don’t know for how long I watched it go on for before Tabby rested a hand on my shoulder, and whispered, “Hey, you still with us?”
“He’s all spaced out,” whispered Colby.
“Yeah, yeah,” I whispered. “I’m fine, just tired, that’s all. Let’s go.”
We set off again, this time side by side, more cautiously, the light display carrying on without interruption. Five minutes later, we arrived at a large patch of dense ferns directly across the riverbank from the lights. We sat catching our breath. We watched the lights move in their hypnotizing pattern. All three of us instinctively crouched lower behind the ferns. I listened intently. I could hear my heart. I could hear their hearts. I could hear the noise of the river, the nature chorus surrounding us. Everything spoke to me right then as rivulets of sweat ran down my forehead, and then I heard a new sound, a humming.
It was a song––that much I was certain of––and it filled the night, rising and lowering, odd yet intriguing and alluring. A second hum joined the first and a moment later they coalesced, one deeper than the other but both performing the same song, like a mournful lullaby expressing profound sadness.
“Told you it ain’t the others,” whispered Colby triumphantly. “You ever heard Simon sing? He sounds like he got a frog in his throat.”
“Maybe they’ve seen the others,” whispered Tabby. “Whoever they are.”
Through the plants and trees, I could make out two human figures, small and vague, swinging the lights around.
“We got no idea who they are,” I whispered. Then I felt that same warm sensation on my chest. The stone inside the medicine pouch began to heat up. I turned around to scan the forest. At first, I couldn’t see anything, but then as my eyes adjusted, I made out another figure: this one a tall shadow in the center of the trail. Colby turned around about to speak. But he stopped. He too fixed on the shadow, the whites of his eyes like full moons.
“Hey, guys, I think they’re female,” whispered Tabby. She was still watching the light display across the river, unaware that Colby and I were now focused on the quickly-becoming-menacing figure behind us. Without looking, I backhanded her shoulder.
She turned around and whispered, “What?”
Colby pointed at the figure. The three of us watched for what seemed like minutes, waiting to see if it would move or speak. All the while the performance carried on behind us across the river.
I found myself questioning what I was seeing. Had we been so focused on the lights that we missed an abnormally shaped tree trunk? Or maybe it was an animal? We’d only been there for a day, who knew what other strange creatures, mythical creatures even, lived on that world.
Then whatever it was made a loud clicking noise, sending a jolt through my body.
Other figures swiftly emerged from the undergrowth, like angry hornets from a disturbed hive. There were so many that I wasn’t able to keep track of all of them at first, but when they finally stopped moving, I counted thirteen in total. This wasn’t good, and it was only worsening by the moment.
The first figure, who was broad-shouldered and taller than the rest, came toward us. I’d like to say that I didn’t contemplate turning to flee, but I did. But to where? Into the river? Through the forest? Only then to be chased down by whomever they were. As the tall figure closed the distance, my heart quickened and hands trembled. A raw fear grew inside of me, the kind of fear that I’d only experienced a few times in my young life. The figure reached a spot on the trail where the orange moony light reached the ground, and he became a man. He had a large forehead, fierce eyes, and chestnut skin. He looked as though he’d stepped right out of an old black-and-white Indian picture of the kind that I’d seen while perusing books in the library. I guessed him for the leader.
“Give me the gym bag,” I said to Tabby, reaching for it. She handed me the bag. I slowly went inside and removed the fruit-and-nut bar.
“What are you doing?” she said.
I peeled back the wrapper and gestured the bar to my mouth, and then giving my friendliest smile, I cautiously handed it to the leader. He sniffed a few times before taking a small bite. His eyes widened and he spit a mouthful at my feet and tossed the bar over his shoulder. He spoke rapidly in a strange language, that there was something oddly familiar about.
“Oh, great move,” said Colby. “He royally pissed now.”
Two others came up to the leader’s side, both carrying spears.
“Put up your hands,” I said to Tabby and Colby, raising my hands above my head. Tabby’s shot up, but Colby was slow to move so I elbowed him in the ribs.
When I heard a commotion behind me, I turned around. Three very capable-looking Indians held spears, the points inches away from our heads.
“Man, this all bad, bad, bad, like real bad,” said Colby from the side of his mouth.
Neither Tabby nor I spoke. My heart beat like a jackhammer in my chest, and sweat began to run into my eyes.
“If they wanted to kill us, they’d of done it already,” said Colby.
“How do you know?” said Tabby.
They were talking too loud, and I didn’t like it.
“You know ’bout snakes. I know ’bout gangs,” said Colby.
A stir went through our ambushers. The spearheads that had been focused on Tabby and me moved to Colby. Three spearheads made of ivory or bone were ready to shish kebob his head.
There was a shout behind me. When I turned to look, a spear point jabbed my left butt cheek. It prodded me forward until I was face to face with the leader. He uttered something in his language. The other Indians surrounded us, moving as swiftly and surely as the tactical team that had arrested Uncle Hanker and me in that highway motel. They forced us to our knees. Strong hands clutched my arms, which were still overhead, twisted them around my back, and began tying them together. Tabby and Colby got the same treatment.
“You all right, Tabby?” I said.
“Hey, man, those so tight my hands gonna fall off,” hissed Colby.
“Pretty sure they can’t understand you,” said Tabby.
“Whatcha saying?” said Colby.
“She’s saying they don’t speak English,” I said.
The Indians tightened their circle around us at this first sign of rebellion, shouting angrily and thrusting their spears toward our faces. And I remembered feeling the same way when the police arrested Uncle Hanker and me. The seventy-two thousand dollars from our bank robberies had been neatly stacked on the dresser. Uncle Hanker planned to send his sons money for college tuition, and I planned to replace my mother’s gravestone with an actual headstone. I didn’t know why those thoughts came to me right then, but they did. Maybe because I realized right then and there that I’d never get to fulfill my dream, with the way things were going.
We were helpless. There was nothing we could do but allow things to unfold.
Colby turned to me and gave his defiant look, like he was about to try something.
“Don’t fight. Please don’t fight,” I said. “Not the time or place for it.” My eyes and mouth narrowed and I shook my head slightly, hoping to affirm my message. The bonds around my wrist cinched tight.
The leader began to speak hurriedly to the others, as if he was giving orders.
“This isn’t good,” said Tabby.
“No, it isn’t,” I said. “Let’s go peacefully, but if there’s a chance to move then we all need to be ready.”
“What about my uncle and Anna and Simon?” said Tabby.
“Man, worry ’bout them later,” said Colby.
Before I could reply, we were hauled to our feet. Who knew if there’d be a later?