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Sons of the Moon
By: WiShBo! Date: November 26, 2012, 12:06 pm
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...Sons of the Moon Part I is the first in a series of
continuing short-stories for a novel I hope to publish one day:
The Moonlight Saga. It centers around James and Michael,
brothers who you will come to learn were born into an ancient
and secret culture of Werewolves. They've been protected from
their inheritance since they were toddlers, having been raised
by their “Aunt and Uncle” after the death of their parents.
However, James and Michael are about to graduate high-school and
have their whole lives ahead of them as men, but before they can
leave the sleepy and secure world of rural Oddawa, Michigan, the
truth of their existence will come out and shape the path of
their destiny...
Oddawa Township, Michigan (USA)
James awoke drenched in sweat and clenching his bedding- well,
what was left of his bedding. His sheets were mostly tangled
about him, half wrapped around his legs and one fist; his
blanket dangled half of the bed with a corner clutched in his
other hand. His heart was thumping wildly and his jaw ached from
another bout of intense clenching during another nightmare. He
took several calming breathes and released the tension from his
fists. He had dealt with nightmares before, as a child, and
again after he turned thirteen, but that was years ago. Lately
his dreams, his night terrors, were plaguing him once more.
James sat up in bed, letting his legs hang off the edge. He
stretched away the remnants of the tension. He tried to remember
the dream, but the imagery wouldn't come to him. Only the
sensations of anger, fear, and wild abandon remained. He looked
around his room, the crimson numbers of the digital clock told
the time of a little after three in the morning. It was still
late and too early.
Standing he walked to the window and pulled aside the curtains.
The silvery glow of the nearly full moon illuminated a clear
night sky and his dark room. Looking out across the expanse of
the backyard he saw a figure; it was Michael, he knew.
James stepped out into the backyard. The cool morning air
wouldn't be so bad were it not for his sweat drenched hair and
body. He continued out into the yard, the cool, dewy grass felt
good beneath his bare feet. Off in the distance, about
thirty-yards away the figure stood motionless. James didn't feel
an ounce of fear. He knew it was Michael, even though he
couldn't see his features. They were twins, they had a special
bond.
James silently walked up to his brother, the moonlight bathed
them both, giving them an argent aura. James stood by his
brother's side. He didn't touch him, speak, didn't even look at
him. He stood there for a long moment staring off into the night
sky as his brother was.
The two were brothers, twins. They were not identical, though
they did favor one another. James was told that he favored his
mother, where as Michael favored their father. Though both of
the same height, James was rather slender compared to Michael,
his limbs were long and lithe. Michael had a heftier build:
broader shoulders, thicker of limb. James had blonde hair that
was almost white, and pale blue-gray eyes that were like ice.
Michael’s hair was so black that it had a blue sheen to it when
light would hit his hair just right. His eyes were a brilliant
viridian, like emeralds. They shared the same nose and chin,
both masculine but not overly so. The set of their eyes were
slightly different: James had eyes that were a little closer
together, while Michael's were set a little wider apart. James
had higher cheek bone features than his brother; they were both
strikingly handsome in their differences and subtle
similarities.
Michael hadn't said a word since James had joined him. The night
was eerily silent, not so much as a breeze to tease the leaves.
The silence was broken by the sound of James urinating.
“You pissed on my feet you douche,” Michael said.
James shook himself and met his brother's eyes with a
shit-eating-grin. “Oh, I'm sorry man. I thought you were a tree:
standing there all still and shit.”
Michael snorted in reply; he wasn’t angry or amused, simply
indifferent. That was Michael in a word. He had his opinions, he
was quite soulful and thoughtful in an introverted way, he just
let much of the world roll right off his shoulders. He wasn't
concerned with things like popularity and enforcing his ideas
and thoughts on people. He was a popular young man, as was
James, he just didn't really care about it, it wasn't a focus of
his life. He was everyone's friend, to a degree anyway. He
wouldn't bully anyone, but he never stopped anyone from being
bullied neither. Though he didn't always say much, people were
just drawn to Michael, and liked him, respected him. He was a
force of nature, whereas James was very much the popular
brother. He was like a magnet: he was charming and outspoken,
passionate, opinionated, had a sense of humor about him, and a
confidence that wasn't overbearing. He was something of a
crusader, where as Michael was more the stoic one James grabbed
life by the horns and made waves. Michael was a rock.
“You smell like shit man,” Michael said as he turned his face
back towards the night sky.
“You smell like pee, so what's your point?”
“Nightmares again, huh?”
“Sleep walking again, hmm?”
The two brothers stood in silence for a time. They were close,
always had been. People often said they were as different as
night and day, outwardly it was mostly true, but they had this
common bond that they thought of as their being two halves of
the whole. Like yin and yang, fire and ice, black and white,
peanut butter and jelly.
James broke the silence, “I'm starving. Raid the fridge or go to
Bonnie's?”
“Bonnie's,” Michael said. “I could eat a whole cow.”
Bonnie's Place, (Oddawa, Michigan)
Bonnie's was a popular truck stop. It was open
twenty-four-seven, had the best food in the county. It was owned
and maintained by Bonnie and Ty Hart, a couple of fixtures in
the community. There were enough great places to eat in and
around town, mom and pop places, hole-in-the-walls, and your
dime a dozen chain joints, but Bonnie's was the best, because
she always added a little love to all her food.
Bonnie's Place offered just about anything a traveler would
need. Aside from the usual concessions of gas, food and showers,
she ran a motel, an automotive shop, gift shop, a tattoo and
piercing parlor, and she had her own bail bonds business
to-boot. Bonnie was quite the entrepreneur, she kept busy, but
she had a lot of help Her business actually sat near reservation
land, and she herself was of Native heritage, and was on the
Council, as well as the County Commercial Commission. She gave a
lot of work to both her Native people, as well as those around
town who needed a little help while weathering the current
recession. She also had Uncle Ty, her husband.
Ty had long been a fixture in the lives of James and Michael. He
wasn't really their uncle, but he might as well have been. Other
than their Auntie Leigh and Uncle Harris who had raised them,
and were the twins' only family (Leigh and Harris had never had
kids), Ty wasn't blood family but he was still family. He had
known their parents too, before they had died. Ty had long
looked out for the boys, took them under his wing, just as an
uncle would and should. Ty helped run Bonnie's Place, though he
did so more behind the scenes.
James and Michael pulled into Bonnie's on their bikes, a couple
of refurbished Indian motorcycles they had had since they were
fifteen. Ty had gotten them for them, but they were a piece of
work, and the boys had to spend many hours learning the
mechanics of motorcycles to help rebuild them- before they were
even allowed to learn how to ride them.
The lot had about a dozen trucks rumbling like great snoring
beasts as their drivers sat inside for a meal, or were taking a
well needed shower. Other than the tractor-trailers, there were
only a few other cars in the parking lot, probably folks
stopping in off the road for a meal and break from their
journey.
James and Michael went inside and took a seat at the counter,
with Uncle Ty sitting between them.
Ty was a big man, big and burly, but with a soft face and a kind
heart that didn't match his deep and gruff voice. He had a bald
head a salt and peppered goatee that was thick but short, and
more pepper than salt. No matter what time of the year it was he
pretty much wore the same clothes: an old t-shirt and a leather
biker's vest, jeans and boots.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Ty said as the boys
took their seat next to him. “What on earth are the two of you
doing up at this hour? Graduation jitters or something?”
“Couldn't sleep,” James said.
“Need food,” Michael added.
“Now I know your Auntie Leigh has plenty of food for two
strapping young men, yet you come all the way out here in the
middle of the night? Bonnie's food is the best in three
counties, but damn,” said Ty.
“Where is Bonnie?” asked Michael. “She up and about this hour?
Does she know her old man is up instead of at home?”
“Watch yourself boy. You may be graduating high-school and
turning fast into a man, but your still a whelp to this aged
feller. I can still bend you over my knee!”
The three shared a laugh as Bonnie came out from the kitchen.
“Well good morning boys!” she said, giving them a big smile.
“What are you two trouble makers doing out and about at this
hour? Everything alright?”
“We're hungry, Aunt Bonnie!” The two brothers said in unison.
Bonnie laughed and waved to one of her servers to take care of
the boys. Bonnie was half Indian, her skin color showed her
heritage, as did her long and lush black hair which fell well
passed the belt line. She was only about four feet tall, with a
petite but athletic frame, she was larger in personality than
her physique, quite the firecracker when it suited her, but a
sweetheart through and through.
“Boys this is Jaqie, she used to serve over at that shit-hole
casino, but she's here now. This is James and Michael sweetie,
just give 'em whatever they want and leave me the bill in the
morning.”
“Aww thanks Bonnie, but we can pay,” James said.
“You boys know your money is no good here, besides, your
family,” Ty said as Jaqie filled his cup with hot fresh coffee.
“You used to work at the Golden Arrow's Casino huh?” Michael
asked as she poured him and James a cup as well.
She smiled at the boys, though her smile lingered on Michael a
little longer. “I did, yea. Money was good at first, but things
slowed down some and it just kinda started to suck.”
“Well you'll like it here,” Michael said. “Bonnie's definitely
doesn't suck.”
“Yea,” added James. “Not even kinda. Nope.”
The boys made there order, nearly one of everything it seemed,
and Jaqie left them to put their order in.
“Big day tomorrow kids,” Bonnie said as she took a seat at the
counter. “High school is over. Have you decided what to do with
yourselves? Your Auntie Leigh said you both were thinking of
taking the year off? Still better get your asses to college, all
I have to say.”
“Mikey boy there wants to go back packing the world over,
dontcha Mister I Wanna See World?” said James.
“Not a bad idea really, a lot of world out there to see,” Ty
said. “What about you Mister Smart Mouth?”
“Well, Sir, I was thinking you should hire me with Hart Bail
Bonds. I'm all for college, of course, but I still don't know
what I want to be when I grow up. I'd work for you, learn the
trade, go on the hunt.”
Ty wasn't only his wife's business partner in the truck stop and
bail-bonds business, but he was a licensed private eye, and a
bona fide bounty hunter.
“If your serious, which I know is damn hard for you, and Harris
says it's alright, you got yourself a job,” Ty replied. “Don't
you be thinking it's all Dog the Bounty Hunter now. This is
serious work.”
“I know, I know!” James said with exaggerated defensiveness. “I
was thinking of studying criminal justice down the road, not
sure I want to be a cop like Uncle Harris, probably more
interesting being a Dick like you!”
Everyone shared a laugh, but Bonnie snuck in a quick and
worrisome glare Ty's way.
The boys’ food arrived. Bonnie and Ty left the boys to eat.
* * *
Outside of the restaurant Ty lit up a cigarette. A couple more
cars and big rigs were pulling in. Bonnie said, “What did Leigh
and Harris have to say?”
Ty exhaled a succession of smoke rings. “They've been having
some trouble again. Last few weeks. Sometimes it skips a
generation or two when it’s only one of the parents. Been quite
a few years for them boys, but if they're feeling the pull at
this age, then they've certainly been inherited.”
“What are you going to do Ty? They're practically men now and
going off into the world, outside of our protection.”
“I know. Don't I know. I talked to Harris about taking the boys
out for a cross country ride for a few weeks, I told him I'd
take care of it. I owe their mom and dad that much.”
“You've done more and then some, don't you ever think less. Karl
and Erica would be proud of their boys, and they would be
thankful for all you have done. Leigh and Harris have done right
by them, they've been raised good, but they aren't like us Ty,
and if what you say is true, and they have it in their
blood...they need your help. For all Leigh and Harris know and
understand, and have done for them boys, they don't have what
James and Michael are going to be needing.”
Up the road a ways a line of lights sparkled, and as they got
closer Bonnie and Ty could hear the sounds of motorcycles.
“Is it trouble Ty? Should I call the Tribe?” Bonnie asked with
worry.
Ty didn't say anything at first. He sniffed the air and huffed.
“No, it's not that kind of trouble. It's Sammy. A different sort
of trouble. Go inside and see if you can't hurry them boys
along. No one is supposed to know about them.”
“Do you think they know?”
“I can't see how, but if they come face to face with the two of
them they will know alright. Sammy can be trusted, but I don't
know about everyone in his Pack.”
Hell Hounds and Wild Bitches
James and Michael were mostly done stuffing themselves when
Bonnie walked back in. Jaqie was packing up their left over food
for the two of them.
“Damn if that didn't hit the spot,” Michael said. “I could
hibernate for a week if Auntie would let me.”
“Alright you two,” Bonnie said with a forced smile. “You boys
have graduation tomorrow, shouldn't have even been up at this
hour. Let's get on back home and get some beauty rest, big day
you know!”
The vibrations of a dozen bikes vibrated the windows of the
restaurant as a line of bikers thundered passed. James and
Michael turned to look.
“Whoa, bikers!” James said with a grin. “How cool.”
“Yea, yea, just some old enthusiast friends of Ty from back in
the day,” Bonnie said as she ushered the boys out of their
seats.
“No kidding?” Michael asked. The two boys had been enamored by
Ty's stories of being in a biker club in his youth, and shared
his passion for motorcycles ever since they got their Indians.
“Common now,” Bonnie urged. “Off with the two of you.”
Bonnie escorted the boys out and to their bikes just as the last
of the bikers were rounding the corner of the building. Both
boys saw the kuttes before the last of the bikers had turned.
One said Wild Bitches on the vest, the other said Hell Hounds.
The brothers snickered.
Bonnie helped them pack up their food and the boys mounted their
rides.
“Alright Bonnie, much obliged as always!” James said as both
boys kick started their Indians.
Michael blew Bonnie a kiss, and she reciprocated to them both as
they took off for home. Relieved that that part was done, Bonnie
walked off to catch up with Ty and their surprise visitors.
Bonnie found Ty among the bikers, hugging and shaking hands with
everyone. She spotted Sammy right away, he wasn't hard to miss.
He was about as old as Ty, fifty-five, but half as much as big
as Ty. Sammy was a very big boy. He was as black as night, very
much that of ebony.
Sammy saw her right away, he smiled with that twinkle in his eye
that he was known for. He opened his arms wide in greeting,
“Bonnie, Bonnie, come give Big Pappa Sammy some love!” he said.
His voice was the deepest baritone she had ever known.
She embraced him, was practically buried in the avalanche of his
arms. “Sammy you 'ol dog, what in hell are you doing here?”
“Been a long, long time sweetheart, what, almost twenty years
now?” Sammy replied. “Looks like you've been doing good for
yourselves here. Can't believe the two of you settled from the
road and haven’t killed one another by now.”
“Oh we have our moments, but yes, it's been a long time, and we
do alright. Things have been good Sammy,” Ty said.
“Good. Peaceful. We intend on keeping it that way.”
“Ha ha,” Sammy laughed. “Alright, alright, no worries, we're not
here to bark up the wrong tree.”
“You shouldn't be here Sammy,” Bonnie said. “Ty and I left that
life a long time ago. We want no part in any of it.”
“I know darling, but things change sometimes. Sometimes what you
leave behind comes back looking for you,” Sammy said in all
seriousness.
Ty stepped up nose to chin with Sammy. The two stared down at
one another for a long and tense moment.
“I thought you'd be expecting us,” said a woman who had stepped
up beside Bonnie. She was tall with a full figure, her face was
long but gracefully proportioned. Her voice was unmistakable,
rough and gravely, not quite a whisper, but close. She bore a
wicked scar along her neck.
Bonnie's eyes teared up and her lip quivered. Her skin tone
turned a shade toward the ashen, as if she saw a ghost. “Sienna?
It can't be!” Bonnie was barely able to say.
“It is I sister,” Sienna replied with a warm smile, and embraced
her sister.
“By the moon, we thought you dead,” Ty said in astonishment as
he took Sienna in, and looked to Sammy for affirmation.
“She almost was, lost a lot of blood after taking that blade to
the throat,” Sammy said. “How she made it through the night is a
wonder, but a blessing.”
“It has been a very long-time, you didn't even sense me sister?”
Sienna said.
“What did you mean that you thought we'd be expecting you? Why
have you come?” Ty asked.
“Their father didn't tell you?” Sammy asked. “The Old Stag
reached out to us, asked us to come.”
“What?” Bonnie asked in disbelief. “We didn't know. Why?”
“He should have told us Bonnie,” Ty said with a growl.
“I don't know why the old man didn't tell you, but I will,”
Sammy said as he motioned around to the dozen or so people that
had rode in with him. This is all that is left of our two Packs,
of our Den. We had numbered over two-hundred strong between
Sienna's Wild Bitches and my Hell Hounds.”
“My god...” Bonnie said.
“Lykin?” Ty asked, though he knew the answer. “Thought the Blood
Brother's had a leash on that mongrel after...”
“They did for a time, banished him. He started a new pack, the
Dire Wolves, down in Brazil, grew into a Den of its own
unbeknownst to the others. He got in with some cartel and
mercenary group, joined them to his ranks, and has come back
raising unholy hell. It's war Ty. He means to unite all the
packs under his den, or put down anyone who defies him: past and
present.” Sammy explained.
“Banished? He should have been put down himself. I thought the
Alpha Council was going to take care of him?” Ty asked.
“We all did, but Lykin was always a wily one. What happened back
then, it was a tragedy, but you guys left. You don't know what
it's been like. There has been in fighting this whole past two
decades, even with Lykin out of the inner circle. There was a
void with your leaving, and the deaths of Erica and Karl. Not to
mention the Tribe splintering away and cutting ties.”
“So, now what?” Bonnie asked. “Your being here...you've probably
led Lykin right for us then!”
“Sister, please.” Sienna said. “All we know is that father wants
our help. He must know and feel the coming storm. Whether or not
we came, Lykin would show up here eventually. It is as Sammy
says, Lykin is out for blood.”
Tragedy Upon the Morn
James and Michael returned home to a commotion. All the lights
were on and there were numerous vehicles in the driveway and
yard, a few were from the department, the others were folks they
knew from town.
“Boys,” said the deputy they knew as Jessica. She was leaning
upon the front porch railing, sipping a steaming cup of coffee.
“What have the two of you been up to at this hour? Have you
heard?”
“We just came back from Bonnie's, late night hunger. What's
going on here, is Auntie and Uncle alright?” replied Michael. He
already knew the answer, for the most part. If something had
happened to either of them while he and his brother had been
out, Ty would have known, he'd of been one of the first people
anyone contacted if the boys were away from home and something
had happened to their folks.
“Their fine, no worries. It's Phil and Susan's daughter,”
Jessica said. “She was found dead.”
“Sally...” said James. She was a friend of theirs, Phil and
Susan were family friends. Sally was their age, she was going to
graduate with them, was supposed to. Class Valedictorian too.
“What happened?”
“Well, you know I can't say anything else,” Jessica replied
shaking her head. “Not my place.”
James and Michael went into the house, there were about ten
people in the front-living room, more milling about in the
kitchen and dining. Their Auntie, their Aunt Leigh, was sitting
on one side of Susan Jonsten, their friend Sally's mom. She was
completely beside herself: sobbing and trying to catch her
breath, her eyes were red and swollen, she drooled from her
anguish twisted mouth, she rocked back and forth as she shook
her head in disbelief. On the other side of Susan was Mary
Oster, a therapist, the same therapist James and Michael had
seen in their youth. She was a good woman, kind.
Looking around the room and towards the dining area the boys saw
many familiar faces: Old Doc Keller and his wife Tabby, Reverend
Simmons and his daughter Kayla who was a local veterinarian,
Matt Goodling was a volunteer EMT, Jack Dobby was standing in
the doorway, he owned the vast property between their own and
the Jonsten Orchard and Farm. He stood there slowly shaking his
head in obvious disbelief and genuine sadness.
The boys walked passed Jack Dobby into the dining area, a large
open space shared with the kitchen. Most of the kitchen laid
along the west wall in a straight line, the dining area was
dominated by a mammoth oak table that was over a hundred and ten
years old. A score of folk sat about the table, they saw their
Uncle Harris knelt down beside Phil, Sally's dad. Phil was
sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. By the small
bobbing motion of his head and shoulders, James could see the
man was crying in great grief that he stubbornly tried to
command.
Among those at the table was Terry Black, he owned a
construction company. He was speaking with Phyllis Mae, the
president of the County Credit, Savings and Loan Bank, there was
Karen Muellar who ran the Four Seasons Farmer's Market and
Bizarre, and her cousin George Westbon who was the owner of the
Olde Mill's: Baked From The Earth, a grain mill and bakery
factory. Thomas O'Bannon sat next to Clark Vyler, both were
career National Guardsmen at the nearby training camp and
weapons depot. Thomas owned a small airport and flying school
just off the base, and Clark owned the 2nd Amendment Hunting and
Home Defense store…pretty much everyone who lived in the area by
James's and Michael's reckoning.
The brothers didn't ask any questions, they listened. They made
eye contact and nodded, but they didn't intrude on what was
going on. Through the various and partial conversations from
both rooms they pieced together what had transpired.
Sally shared a room with her younger cousin Kelly. The girls'
fathers were brothers, Kelly's had fallen on hard times after
the death of her momma, they had been living with Sally's family
for almost a year now, and everybody knew that. From what the
boys over heard, Kelly woke up to find Sally not in bed. She
went looking for her after she hadn't returned for a long time.
Kelly was only seven, curious and imaginative. She had grown
very close to Sally in the days since her momma passed. She woke
her dad, Lawrence. To appease her he led her through the house,
sure to find Sally having come from the bathroom, or back in
bed, but no. He woke her parents, and they looked over the house
and yard and called her on her phone, but she was nowhere to be
found. Her car keys hung on the wall, her car was out in the
driveway...
The Jonsten Orchard and Farm was nearly a thousand acres, it
laid east of the boy's home, with the Dobby property between
theirs, another thousand sum acres all its own. Her parents
called the sheriff’s office, Deputy Jessica Hweung was on duty,
she commonly worked the graveyard shift. Law sated a twenty-four
hour time period before an official missing persons report would
be filed, but that didn't stop Jessica from looking into it.
Stuff like that just didn't happen in Oddawa Township, and they
all took care of their own. Nearby Battle Creek and Kalamazoo
had crime, and urbanization was surely creeping in and catching
up with sleepy Oddawa, but it was still supposed to be a safe
and secure rural community.
Jessica had called out to fellow deputy's Donald and Christopher
Williams (of no relation) who were on duty. She also called her
fiance, Kyle Stevens, who was with the State Troopers and
regularly patrolled between Kalamazoo to the north-east of
Oddawa, and to the south-west into Battle Creek, where the State
Trooper patrol office was located. The three officers cruised
about the area, and stopped anyone who might be on the roads,
but there were no signs of Sally or anything nefarious about.
After several hours the call came into the sheriff's office. It
was Mr. Dobby. He had horses, and they had been making a
terrible ruckus. He went to investigate, and he discovered a
grizzly and gruesome scene. Sally was dead. Mauled. So too were
several of his horse, and a yet to be identified second person,
though it was known to be a male. Dobby was a quite and gentle
old soul, he was shocked and horrified by what he had found, and
heart broke for the tragic loss of life. It was said that he
kept mumbling: “Bear. Had to have been a bear. Bear. Had to
have...”
* * *
James and Michael had made their way back outside to the front
porch. Two County Sheriffs and a blue Michigan State Patrol
vehicle were pulling into their yard just as dawn was breaking
upon the eastern horizon. Jessica, Deputy Hweung, was standing
by the County Suburban she had drove, waiting on her fellow
officers.
“Jess,” the State Trooper said with a nod. He was Kyle, her
fiance. The other two officers, County Deputys Williams and
Williams, also got out of their vehicles and nodded towards
Jess.
“CSU is almost done over at Dobby's place,” Kyle said. “Looks
pretty bad, never seen such a thing before. Barry says it has to
have been a bear, though he ain't ever seen such a thing in his
life. Tracks are big, bite and lacerations were definitely from
something big, but he couldn't say for sure.”
“Rare to have bears out here,” Chris, one of the Deputy’s said.
“Not unheard of, but to go after horses and two kids? Teenagers
practically grown adults?”
“Teenagers,” Jessica said, “So the second body was identified?”
“Bryan Aggerman,” Donald replied, the other Deputy.
James and Michael were far enough away that the police didn't
think they could hear the particulars. They could.
Michael said, “Aggerman, what the hell. Thought they were broke
up and he left town?”
“Yea, trouble follows that boy wherever he goes,” James added.
“Last I heard and thought too, she had gone to Prom with Aaron
Peterson. Only one thing they'd be doing in Dobby's horse-barn.
Just don't know why she would be there with that looser the
night before graduation.”
Though she was more or less a “good girl”, and being Class
Valedictorian and all, Sally had had a past reputation for
having a bit of rebellious and wild side. She had started seeing
Bryan Aggerman when she was a freshman, and he was a senior who
dropped out. He wasn't a “bad” guy, just made bad decisions and
got into a lot of trouble. He was then, trouble of himself.
Rumors around school and town was that his momma was a meth-head
and he wasn't even really sure who his daddy was: Quin his
supposed father and his mother's husband, or Quin's
half-brother, Ryan, whom it was known that he and Bryan's momma,
Clara, had off and on again affairs.
Quin was the quintessential county bad-boy, ever since he was in
high-school. He spent more time in bars and county lock up than
anything, and more time fathering little bastards than to
probably have fathered Bryan. It was a joke about his name of
course, one not lost on Quin. Bryan...B-ryan, or be Ryan's. She
never really talked much about it, but something had happened
between her and Bryan the summer before their senior year. She
had gotten in a pretty bad fight with her folks over her grades,
her attitude, her future...Come senior year she was seen out
dating different kids, and no one had really seen or heard from
Bryan again, everyone just said he moved out of town.
“Damn that's some crazy shit,” Michael said. “I heard she was
accepted to just about any school she wanted. She had her whole
life ahead of her, and she gets mauled by some damn bear while
meeting that loser in a barn for a late night romp...”
Neither of the boys thought the unfortunate event was amusing.
Michael, as was typical, was stating what he thought with his
casual indifference. James on the other hand was always the more
emotional of the two.
“I'm glad that son-of-a-bitch is dead,” James said. “It's too
bad after all her hard work and the life she had ahead of her
was wasted by meeting that tool. What the fuck was bear doing
out there? Unreal.”
Their uncle, Harris, had been standing in the doorway behind the
screen door. “You boys doing okay?”
James and Michael turned to face their uncle.
“Yeah, I guess so,” James said, and Michael just nodded.
“Terrible thing, this,” Harris said as he stepped out onto the
porch. He was a good looking man in his mid-fifty's, still had a
full head of sandy hair, though it had been thinning for some
years. He was clean shaven most of the time, but a carpet of
five-o-clock shadow covered his face. His eyes were a warm
hazel, he had a rounded face and the beginnings of a double chin
to match the extra weight growing about his belly. He stood in
silence for a moment then said, “Bear probably is rabid. You
boys want to go get your guns, we're going out to find that
beast and put it down before it can hurt anyone else.”
The Old Stag and The Tribe
Ty and Bonnie led Sammy and Sienna to the reservation lands of a
branch of Native Americans who largely counted themselves among
the ancient and proud Oddawa, or Ottawa. Their lands were not
very vast, as they were a small tribe among those like the
Pottawatomie and the Ottawa proper. Their small reservation was
actually under the jurisdiction of the Pottawatomie and Greater
Ottawa peoples, but was a gifted land of several thousand
snaking acres to the small band of Natives, who were great
spiritual warriors among the various Nations of the Great Lakes
People. They commonly just called themselves: Neshnabek, which
was a common term for "the people", but they held a sacred and
secret history among their fellow Natives, and called themselves
The Tribe as their numbers had originated over the ages from
many Nations about the Great Lakes region.
Bonnie and Sienna had grown up in these lands, though they were
not full blooded Native American, they were born of the Tribe,
born on Tribe land, and their father was the Chief of their
small Band. It was he they came to see: The Old Stag.
The morning sun was rising as the bikers cruised into the
Neshnabek land. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the
treetops like a strobe light as they made their way along the
only paved road in the sanctuary. They came upon a fork, both
were guarded by a trio of the Tribe who held out a hand for the
visitors to stop. Bonnie sat behind Ty on his vintage 1977 XLCR
Cafe Racer. She motioned several quick and fluid hand signals to
the trio who replied with another similar signal, and the group
was free to continue on their way to the left fork of the road.
It led to the private lands of the Neshnabek, whereas to the
right was open to the public.
Though the road was no longer paved, it was a very well
maintained path of packed dirt. The path took them deep into the
rolling woodlands of the Tribe's Sanctuary. Every now and again
as the days' light penetrated and dissolved the darkness of
night, Bonnie would catch a glimpse in the distance of those
whom escorted them along the way. Here and there she would see a
slight glimmer of eyes reflecting light. She knew them for what
they were, who they were. They were friends, special friends. It
exhilarated her to see them, but also made her a little sad. It
stirred something within her soul that she had not felt for many
years.
As they came closer to their destination, Bonnie sent a similar
set of hand signals out to the woods. She knew it would be
received and understood. Simply she conveyed, “Welcome Friends,
you are safe and may help yourselves...but first you must
announce yourselves to the Neshnabek.”
With that said, a magnificent baying broke throughout the
woodlands on both sides of the bikers. A conveyance not heard in
these parts for many years. The sounds of a dozen wolf howls
echoed like an other-worldly-symphany. It caused a chill of
pride and longing to shoot through Bonnie's spine, it even
brought a tear to her eye.
Bonnie and Ty were first to park and dismount. Normally she
loved coming to the sanctuary and visiting with her father and
people, but this visit held many conflicting emotions for her.
She couldn't understand why it was that the life of her sister
had been kept from her, why did her father not tell her, leaving
her to think she had been dead all these years? And why had he
reached out to Sienna and Sammy, without her and Ty's knowledge?
It didn't make sense, it unsettled her, but not as much as
knowing that Lykin still walked the Earth. Nothing good at all
was going to come of this she knew, and she feared for what it
all meant. She feared for herself and Ty, and her people, but
she too feared for that of James and Michael, who were like the
sons she and Ty had been robbed of so many years before.
Bonnie and Ty and their companions had parked their bikes in a
crescent moon facing the simple cabins that the Neshnabek of The
Tribe dwelt within on these lands. People were already
gathering, no doubt having heard the songs of the wolves, and
the roar of the bikes, but undoubtedly they just knew. The Tribe
were special, they had a unique and ages old connection with the
land, her creatures, the elements, and the spirit world.
Bonnie saw her father and motioned a greeting with her hands as
she spoke, “Father, this One is pleased to see you, I am Home.”
The Old Stag as he was known was a tall man, and of half-Native
blood. His hair was long and braided, a dark charcoal gray with
vibrant hued strands of string the colors of green, blue, yellow
and white woven through his locks. He looked frail in his thin
frame and lanky limbs, and his face was weathered from many
seasons of life and the challenges and joys he had seen. He
walked and carried himself with the strength and assuridity of
someone in their youth, and of someone with great confidence. He
was Jonah Suksi-Mwe, and he could count over a hundred years of
being upon the Earth.
Jonah greeted his daughter, and her husband, and then he looked
to his other daughter, his wayward Sienna, and her companions.
“You have always been in my heart, and words cannot convey what
it does to see you with my eyes, in the flesh. Welcome home
Sienna, welcome home daughter of the Stag, daughter of the
Neshnabek, daughter of the Moon.”
Sienna fought back tears as she walked up to her father with
outstretched arms. They embraced. It had been nearly eighteen
years since last she saw him.
Bonnie enjoyed the reunion: she was happy to have her sister
alive, and reunited with the family, to see her with their
father, but it still did not take away the worry, the concern,
the hurt of being left in the dark.
To Sammy the Old Stag held out an open hand in greeting, and
motioned for him to come forward. Sammy obliged the old chief.
As he stood in front the man, he towered over him by a whole
foot, and his bulk compared to that of Jonah was a good
two-hundred pound difference.
“You saved my daughters life, I am thankful. I and my People
have long been friends to that of the Moon Children, though in
recent times our friendship has been strained. Know that You and
Yours are welcome here in these lands. Protected you are. I call
you a Son, just as I would he who would have been born to me as
my daughters have. I welcome You and Yours,” the Old Stag said.
“I thank you Honored Suksi-Mwe, Old Stag of the Neshnabek. It is
an honor to meet You and Yours, and to know that we are welcomed
and safe here within the Sanctuary. Your daughter Sienna brings
great joy and life to my heart. I have welcomed her among my own
family and People, as you do of me and mine. I live and would
die for her, and know that my people here are friends to you and
the Tribe,” Sammy replied with his deep and commanding voice.
Mwe and Sammy and Sienna's friends gathered and shook hands,
greeting one another more informally. All except one of the
Neshnabek and two of his apparent companions. He was a large
man, though not quite as large as Sammy, he could no-doubt hold
his own. His features favored that of the Natives greatly, with
his ruddy hued skin and long black hair.
“I do not greet such as you so readily, but will respect the
judgment of the Old Stag. You and your...Kind...are a perversion
of the Gift, and you bring unspeakable troubles to these lands,”
he said with great conviction for all to hear.
Everyone stopped to look upon that man and to see how the Old
Stag would deal with him.
“Mko speaks with passion in his heart, but with fire that flicks
from the tongue,” the Old Stag replied. “You will not dishonor
the Tribe, nor me, nor our friends with your aversions. For over
a hundred years have I known Their Kind, and for five decades
has my judgment led the Tribe, where as you have just begun your
path. Unbridled passion will consume you, wait until you have
learned all that which you need before rushing to judgment of
the things you cannot possibly yet understand. “
Mko stood silent and held his gaze over Sammy and his people.
“Enough of this” the Old Stag said. “Come, we have much to speak
of and time is short.”
...TO BE CONTINUED...
(C) GJ Lentz
On WiShBo!:
HTML http://www.wishbo.net/2012/09/sons-of-moon.html
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