The Lakesh Prophecies: Outlander

SAMPLE CHAPTER 

 

Whispering Cloud

(The Lakesh Prophecies: Outlander — Book One) 

 

"…from blood to blood, I will live in you forever."

— Whispering Cloud, Indian shaman, and philosophical car mechanic

 

The sunrise across the top of the mountains was a welcomed sight. David was exhausted from the rituals performed throughout the night. The mixture of burning herbs stung his eyes and nose. The soreness radiated throughout his arms and legs from the prayer dances. While resting on a huge boulder, David thought to himself, Damn Whispering Cloud for putting me through this. I bet he's laughing at this twenty-eight-year-old white boy right now.

 

The numbing cold from the rock's surface crept up David's spine. The massive shiver caused him to jump up, feeling renewed. He closed his bloodshot eyes to feel the sun's warmth as he stretched. The dew lifted slowly from the grass, and the chill of the autumn night left his skin.

 

David picked up the artifacts to complete the ceremony. Holding a sizeable half-clam shell, he used a clutch of hawk feathers to flick out ashes. David faced north and repeated in each direction until all the ashes were gone. With a long, heartfelt sigh, David shook out his curly, brown hair as he sat down on the rock cliff's edge. He marveled at the fall colors brightening as the sun rose over the cascading mountains.

 

A thousand thoughts raced through David's mind. He took out a little black felt box from his backpack. David opened and closed the small chest several times, then returned it to his bag. It wasn't the right time for this, he thought to himself. David's random thoughts soon returned to why he was on the bluff.

 

The world would not be the same without Whispering Cloud. David longed to hear WC's words on how to go on, but none came. WC had been in David's life for almost as long as he could remember. David smiled while reliving some of the things they had done together. He suddenly realized all the unique experiences WC had brought into his life. Many of them helped shape David into the man he is now. This revelation made his chest feel hollow as he closed his blue eyes to hold it all in, but the tears still came.

 

While packing his sleeping bag, David recalled meeting WC for the first time. It was after the death of his father, Sonny. David was eight years old and could not bear to go to the funeral. He had run into the woods behind his house. At nightfall, David's mother, Sue, became worried. She was used to him being gone for hours in the woods, but she wanted her little boy home.

 

WC had come in for Sonny's funeral and volunteered to go and find young David. Sue knew about WC from Sonny's stories of when they served together in the military. The two had kept in touch over the years by writing and phone calls, but Sue had never met WC. Sonny's stories were always sketchy in detail, but he always spoke highly about WC. Sonny had always been the black sheep of his own family and never fit in. As a loner, WC was an orphan, so he and Sonny clicked while serving their first tour. So, WC was considered an adopted brother of sorts. They had a bond that Sue understood, and she instinctively trusted WC. She let him set out to find her only child.

 

Young David sat against a large pine tree on a rock bluff overlooking the deep valley below. He watched the sun disappear behind the last mountain. David looked up from crying and realized that he was in the middle of nowhere. The darkness of night was upon him. He decided to race through the woods toward home. With a half-moon for light, the forest seemed a mysterious place. The sounds from the darkness were not unfamiliar, but they were not soothing either.

 

David's imagination was in overdrive with the noises coming from all around. The chorus of tree frogs pierced his eardrums, drowning out most other sounds. With every shadow movement, there was the thought of a fierce creature ready to do harm. David decided that running would be the best plan. After about ten to twelve minutes of a marathon through the trees, he had to catch his breath. Sharp, stabbing pains made it difficult to inhale as he leaned against a tree.

 

At least now, David recognized where he was. Another half mile or so through old man McCarty's field would take him to the road and a mile from there was home. He felt on edge walking through the old apple orchard. The moon dimly lit the trees and cast many formless shadows everywhere. All of a sudden, David noticed some movement from the darkness. Several figures darted behind the overgrown scrub bush that littered the field.

 

David intently watched as he tried to walk with no sound. He heard grunting and sounds of squealing from some wild young piglets as they ran in every direction. Startled by the sight, David's adrenaline prepared him for another run, but David stood still, looking for which way to go. He knew it would only be a matter of seconds before an adult pig would respond.

 

The charge of the massive boar from the underbrush was an epic sight. To an eight-year-old, the feral pig may have well been a charging elephant. David stood motionless. As the boar steamrolled forward, it would disappear into the shadows cast by the trees only to reappear in the moonlight. The gallop of heavy hooves grew louder as the apparition-like boar made its final emergence into the lit path of its young, petrified victim. Suddenly, David slid his left foot to the side and shifted his weight. The boar passed harmlessly by in a blinding fury.

 

To rectify his miscalculation, the boar turned to charge again. This time, it had the advantage of large shadows blocking his approach. David tried desperately to adjust his eyes to the darkness. With no luck, he quickly picked up a short stick. David tapped it on the ground, hoping the steroid-induced boar would go for the sound and movement. His tapping frantically increased with the galloping. Only hearing the imminent destruction heading his way, David prepared for the worst. Just as he closed his eyes for the impact, an unholy squeal made the hair on his neck stand up. Nothing but a loud, sliding thud ended the blood-curdling noise, and silent shadows were the only thing left.

 

Opening one eye, young David stood still while trying to assess his stay of execution. Suddenly, a towering figure loomed forth out of the shadows. Unable to yell, David stood frozen as the silent figure stepped into the moonlight. Standing before him was a Native American man with long black hair with touches of gray. The man's face was stone-like in appearance. He looked out of place, wearing black dress pants and a leather fringe jacket. David did not know what to say except to quietly utter, "Hello."

 

WC's icy glare melted into a soft look of loving eyes as he placed his hands on David's shoulders.

 

"So you're Sonny's boy. I saw you stand your ground with that boar back there. That was pretty brave of you. Not only did you show courage, but you were also able to think on your toes. Not many your age could dodge a charge like that or try to misdirect the second."

 

"It was all fear, sir," said David as he started to get movement back to his body.

 

WC laughed, "…and honest too."

 

David was now fidgeting around, making sure every part of his body was in its place. He thought to himself, I guess my butt must have been paralyzed too because my pants are not full.

 

WC looked the boy over to make sure he was alright. Noticing a tear in David's upper pants, WC took out a handkerchief and wiped some blood away that had started flowing.

 

"It's only a nick," said WC. "Maybe, if you're lucky, it will leave a scar of this moment and serve as a reminder to be quicker."

 

Surprised at the wound, David wondered why he had not noticed it.

 

"I bet you will feel this later," WC stated. "You're like your dad. The pain will come when you have time to think about it."

 

David could now feel his leg starting to throb.

 

WC tried to divert the young boy's thoughts of pain.

 

"You have mastered Rule One."

 

Confused, David looked at him and repeated, "Rule One?"

 

"Yes," said WC, "Rule One: Never show pain or fear."

 

David thought, what an odd rule.

 

WC went on, "Your dad and I had a set of rules that we applied to almost any situation. It helped keep us alive when we were overseas. The first rule is to show no pain or fear. It gives you the advantage of seeming superhuman and adds mysticism to your personality. You are a rock, unmoving and secure. You will naturally draw people toward you with that silent strength. Their hope will be that they can be like you."

 

WC disappeared into the shadows only to reappear with a short spear while explaining the philosophical aspect of Rule One. He wiped the blood from the point as he gave further explanation.

 

"Everything you do must have the illusion of being superhuman…from everyday routines like eating or doing chores. Going out of your way to express your difference at achieving such simple goals will add up over time."

 

While explaining his point of view, WC took his belt and looped it around the boar's leg. He pulled a short rope from his jacket and effortlessly pulled the boar into a tree. He leaned over the boar's head and whispered, "I'll be back for you later. You fought well and will be honored."

 

WC and David soon meandered through the field to the road. As they started down the dusty moonlit path, David asked WC to explain more of the rules.

 

"The rules are simple, my boy, but the definition of what they mean is complex. The Second Rule is: Always be prepared. The meaning, in a nutshell, is: expect the unexpected. Nothing is for sure, and change is the only constant. Never say never, and try to have no certain expectations about anyone or any outcome. If you expect everything, then there is no surprise. See the complexity of the rule?"

 

David smiled and shook his head.

 

"Isn't always be prepared a Boy Scout motto?" he asked.

 

WC winked at him and flashed a wicked smile.

 

"Where do you think they got it from? I'm older than any Boy Scout motto. They borrowed it from me, with my permission, of course."

 

David laughed. "How old are you?"

 

WC looked down at him with the most honest face.

 

"I'm one hundred and twenty-three," he said with a ridiculous smile.

 

David laughed again. "You’re so full of it. I bet you’re pushin’ sixty. Are there rules about you telling the truth?”

 

“That’s the next rule. Rule Three is to honor and respect all things. Lying, cheating, and hating are just a few things that you should not do. These and others like them will dishonor only yourself, and you will lose respect for everything. See, everything and everyone is connected and part of a great whole. Some call this God, Tao, Universal Life Force, or something similar. We are all connected from an earthworm to that rock you just kicked, even me and you. So, anytime you dishonor or disrespect someone or something, you are also hurting yourself. The rule would even be simpler if you said: Love all things. Because love is everything, the only truth, and one day you will understand why.”

 

David absorbed every word WC had to say as they walked that one mile home. Hearing about his father’s life made David miss his dad even more. WC seemed to know everything about the world and people. As the old indian kept talking, David realized that WC had first captured his attention back at the orchard using Rule One. His superhuman persona had pulled David towards him. The young David was amazed by this revelation. He adopted the rules on the spot and swore he would be like Whispering Cloud and his father one day.

 

The outside security light peered through the tree line in the distance. David knew that they were nearly home. Then, the real world came back. His dad was gone. Sonny had lost his life in a car wreck and would never be coming home again. David started to cry. WC noticed the boy realizing what had happened and placed his hand on his head.

 

David started crying as he felt angry that his dad had left them. The tension in his shoulders built as he kicked rocks more violently.

 

“What you're feeling is perfectly natural,” stated WC. “We all must grieve. It’s part of healing and moving forward. Don’t hold it in.”

 

David clenched his fist, wanting to hit something, but kept kicking rocks. He stopped walking and looked up at WC with tear-soaked eyes.

 

“How do your rules apply to this situation? What wisdom do they hold?”

 

WC stopped walking.

 

”Remember I said. The rules apply to most situations but not always to feelings.”

 

“Then what good are they if you can’t use rules for everything,” cried David. “Maybe I should make my own rule that I will never feel like this again.”

 

WC bent down. “You don’t want that.”

 

“Why?” David replied.

 

“Well, if you must know, you are a living and feeling being.” WC placed his hands on David’s shoulders. “If you used your rule, then you would not be. You cannot cease what you are. If you tried, it would lead to the path of a charging boar that comes at you from the shadows. The best thing is to do what you are doing now.”

 

“How am I to get over this?” David asked sobbingly.

 

“Time has its soothing ways,” WC replied.

 

“How do you know?” David asked intently.

 

“An old man once told me the same thing when I was in a similar situation.” WC smiled with admiration at his memories. “Broken Antler was one of the last great shamans of my people. He showed me a great many things about the world. Broken Antler adopted me when my family died of a sickness that swept my village. He told me that I survived for a reason. I would have truly been lost without him.”

 

They both started to walk again towards the house. David wiped his eyes dry. He could see the shadow of his mother on the porch, rocking back and forth impatiently in the dark. She spotted them coming up the road and rose to meet them. David was a little anxious and prepared for a butt chewing. He had ripped his church pants and was dirty. WC hid his short spear behind his back when they entered the driveway. With both hands behind him, WC disconnected the spear tip from the rod. The next thing David saw was a tall, muscular man turn into a slightly hunched, older-looking man with a walking stick and a barely noticeable limp.

 

David leaned in towards WC. “You can go first because you don’t live here, you big faker,” he whispered to his new Indian friend. The intensity in his mother’s eyes burned through them as she turned on the porch lights.

 

“I should add that when one of three rules doesn’t seem to apply to a situation, just …smile,” WC whispered nervously. “Consider it the rule for any hopeless situation.”

 

“Now you’re just making up stuff,” said David.

 

“Trust me, boy, when dealing with a woman, especially like the serious-looking one waiting on us, smiling and agreeing with every word she says is the only thing we have left. Nothing else will fly.” WC sheepishly replied.

 

As David and WC arrived at the first step, they looked at each other to see who would go up first. Sue beat them to it. As she stepped onto the second step, her burning glare softened as she hugged a surprised David.

 

“Are you ok, honey?” Sue lovingly asked her boy.

 

“Yes, mom, I’m fine.” He replied in awe of his mom’s odd behavior. “Sorry, I was out late. WC and I got to talking….”

 

Sue cut him off. “That’s ok, sweetheart. Go in, clean up, and get ready for bed.”

 

David headed towards the door, smiling. WC looked at him with a sour face in a silent attempt to say, wipe that stupid smile off your face. WC’s face changed when Sue stepped in front of him. David smiled even more and watched the two as he walked through the screen door. That was one of the few times he remembered WC looking bewildered while trying to smile and take a butt-chewing at the same time.

 

The grown-up David smiled at the thoughts of that unforgettable first meeting with WC long ago.

 

———

 

Whispering Cloud is gone now. And what David is about to learn about the man who raised him — about the blood already moving in his own veins — will tear his ordinary life apart and strand him a universe away from home.