Chapter Twelve

 

Devon huddled against the ground. The air was still. She had no idea whether or not she was sleeping. The things she saw and heard seemed best explained as dreams or the result of fatigue and despair. Perhaps the bourbon.

Recent tears remained frozen on her cheek. Was Moon alive? Had she survived the fall?

Her eyes welled up again and produced more tiny icicles. The guilt she felt for scolding Moon made her moan in anguish.

Do not cry, my sister. Make good use of this period of rest.

Devon rolled over onto her back. A white buffalo stood above her with eyes bright and charitable.

“I must be facing north,” Devon mumbled, surprised that she knew this. “You are the animal manifestation of the spirit keeper of the north. You are Waboose.”

Then you are not lost after all.

“I am lost and I can’t find my dog, that’s why I’m in the woods. I’m freezing and I want to go home. Why did I end up here?”

The questioner often knows the answer.

“This is all a dream. I haven’t even left my house and my huge, safe, warm comfortable bed. Maybe all of this is the residual effect of another night of heavy drinking.”

You understand now.

She looked around to glare at the buffalo but it was gone. “What are you saying,” Devon called out, “that all of this is because of my drinking?”

Devon realized the lap of luxury, though a wonderful place to reside, had not exactly prepared her for survival in the elements. The spiritual connection she thought she had and the books she’d scarcely read were flimsy musings and vague memories. She clutched the arrowhead.

“Is this a vision quest?” she asked aloud. “A medicine walk?”

Was it all just a dream? She was sure she’d seen the breath from the buffalo’s nostrils and felt the warmth of it on her face. Had she slipped into another realm or had she simply lost her freaking mind? That was a good question for the buffalo. Therefore, she asked it aloud.

“Am I losing my mind?”

Quite the opposite, you are expanding it. This is your quest and you are now seeking answers in the north.

The buffalo was above her, speaking without moving its mouth. The puffs as it exhaled were rhythmic and soothing. Again, Devon allowed herself to be in the dream.

You study, you read, but you have no faith. You seek knowledge but do not listen.

“What should I know?” she asked, sitting up and regarding the animal with respect.

North is the time between midnight and dawn the darkest part of the day. It is the time of birth and death. When you seek answers in the north, you will gain knowledge of the feminine aspect of our Creator. You will learn the practice of healing. You will learn of self-sacrifice. As the buffalo gives of its self, its whole self, to nourish and sustain, you must learn to give of yourself.

“I read that, I remember that,” Devon mused. “North is the direction of wisdom. And the buffalo is often sought for its wise council.”

You will find what you came to seek.

Devon blinked and the buffalo was gone.

“But I didn’t come here to seek anything! I came here by mistake!”

She flopped down and kicked her leg like an insolent child.

A sound in the distance pulled her from her reverie. She noticed a light from above and beyond dancing through the trees. She heard a woman’s voice, and she thought she heard her own name. The light vanished and once again, the darkness settled in around her.

The flutter of wings startled her. The raven appeared, flapping its wings with portentous fury.

“You again,” Devon grumbled.

She tried to stand but her ankle would not hear of it. Her only options were to crawl or to hop on one foot. She opted for the latter. The Gucci loafers she chose to wear that day proved to be a poor choice, not to mention she was sans one. She used a nearby tree as support and hopped a few times, falling into the next tree, hopped a few steps and so on. The exasperating raven followed suit, hopping alongside of her, stopping when she stopped, hopping when she hopped.

“Stop hopping and stopping,” Devon said. “Why did you lead me here? To lose my dog and in doing so lose the last damn thing that was important in my life? Is that what I’m supposed to learn?”

The raven ignored her and continued with its mimicry until they emerged from the woods. Devon looked up the embankment and knew she was where she started. She wilted onto the snow.

“Moon! Where are you?”

The raven joined her and gazed at the night sky. It let out a chilling screech, with the same cadence as Devon’s cry for Moon.

Devon observed the bird, tempted to reach out and touch it. It probed her with its shiny, black eyes, as if bored by her, began preening itself.

“Hey, bird, why don’t you do me a favor and fly around and look for my dog? You seem to know your way around here.”

The raven flew.

“That bird is as real as my ragged fingernails. This is no dream. I’ve got to get back up there.” She began crawling up the hill. “I need someone to help me find Moon.”

Her attempts were futile, for every few feet she climbed she slid back double. The embankment was too steep.

“Damn it!” she screamed. “Damn it all to hell!” Her voice echoed back and the chill settled on her like an icy sheet. Defeat and despair made her weep aloud and she found herself wishing for the companionship of that annoying bird.

Devon traced the arrowhead around the edges of her mouth, stabbing her lip with the tip. She found a somewhat comfortable place to sit at the base of the embankment at the foot of a tree. The view of the overpass above was a comfort. The occasional car that crossed brought her hope. She wished for her shoe and a dry pair of pants. While she was on the subject of wishing, a strong drink and a warm fire weren’t bad choices either, with Moon safe and cozy beside her, of course.

She heard something behind her and half expected to see the raven again, or maybe the buffalo or the bear. Instead, she saw a beam of light bouncing toward her. She shaded her eyes and fell backward with a start.

From the light, an enormous golden eagle emerged. Devon was awestruck by its size and presence. It stood before her, eye level, where she sat, and Devon felt herself warmed by its radiance.

I am Wabun of the East. The light of illumination is my gift to you. Clear your muddled mind and see what is all around you.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Devon began to sob. “It is too much.”

Tears are necessary to cleanse your heart. Cry until you are renewed.

“Then what?”

You will heal.

“Is that my quest?”

It is the quest we all share, spiritual awareness. The need to know there is something beyond the realm in which we live. Something we cannot see, hear, or touch, but sense enough that we begin to question reality.

“At this point I’m beginning to question reality, period,” Devon replied.

There are many realities and realms. Clear your mind and you will see.