Victim 18 post 12

CHAPTER 4
REVELATIONS

Wren wakes up early the next morning and letting Norman sleep she finds herself some clothes amongst the limited things she keeps here at the house. She showers and dresses then setting her night clothes back into the dresser, heads out to the garage. It isn’t quite daylight and she knows Norman is not a morning person so she has some time before he wakes up. She drops her purse into a backpack, slips the remote door opener into her jacket pocket and straps on her helmet. She throws her leg over her bike and hits the remote; the second the door opens she starts the bike pulling out of the door and closing it as she speeds off down the driveway. It is a warm spring day that holds all the promise of only getting nicer as she heads into Fenton to the store. Being on her bike gives her focus, it washes away the recent nightmares of both waking and sleeping. She feels completely free, a type of freedom that she only ever knew when she was on one of her bikes. She can feel the wind pulling on her jacket as it tries to keep up with her. She can hear the air slipping over her helmet, the slight ticking sound that comes from the visor vibrating against the chin of the helmet. The smooth sound of the tires rolling along the road. All these very familiar things seem almost new to her this morning as she goes on her simple errand.

She pulls into the lot at Dierberg's and parks close to the front by the door, and quickly heads in removing her helmet as she does. She gets a cart, sets her helmet in the seat and places her backpack next to it. She knows the store's layout very well after shopping here for the past four months. She realizes this and wonders to herself, "four months had it really been that long since her Grandma died leaving her the house and everything else?" She picks up a package of bacon, a dozen eggs, and all the makings of a good, big breakfast.

“Paper or plastic?”

“Just put them in the backpack, please.”

She pulls out her purse and hands the pack to the bagger. Out in the lot she pulls the pack on tight and straps down the helmet. The sun is just starting to turn the sky a pale orange as she drives into its beautiful display of color on her way home. She hits the remote in her pocket as she gets in range and pulls straight into the garage. Setting the pack on the kitchen counter she goes back to the bedroom and peeks in around the corner. There is Norman still sound asleep oblivious to her ever being gone.

Back in the kitchen Wren gets out the flour, lard, baking powder and the buttermilk she just picked up. Her skilled hands need no measuring cups; she knows just when enough of each ingredient is in the bowl. Soon with some kneading and rolling she is putting a full pan of biscuits in the hot oven. A batch of bacon is cooking as she is putting the hot biscuits in a hot, cloth covered, glass bowl. Several kitchen towels are then placed over them to hold in the heat. The bacon is finished, the coffee brewing, and gravy from some of the bacon drippings is started, before Norman even emerges from his sleep.

“How long have you been up?”

“For quite a while, sleepy head.”

“You said there wasn’t much to eat here.”

“I ran into town and picked up a few things, I figured you spent enough on me yesterday. How do you want your eggs?”

“Over medium. How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m not really sure, for waking up so early I don’t feel tired and the nervous jitters I had when I woke up left me once I was on my bike. How about you?”

“I’m worried about you and I really didn’t sleep all that well.”

“What are you worried about me for?

“Honestly? I’m afraid of those people finding you and finishing what they started. What was the nightmare about last night?”

“Just the rape replaying in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was remembering when they pinned my legs up and started using my butt. It was so vivid like I was there again. I could feel the pain. I could hear their voices discussing me like some inanimate object. How I felt to them, how I looked, what my mouth felt like and…and well, what I felt like compared to the others. Guessing what my butt would be like, betting on how much I would scream when they started using me there. Remembering how much I concentrated on not making a sound when they penetrated me there. I wish the images would just go away. I wish I could just wake up and find out this whole thing was just a nightmare. But I know I won’t because it isn’t.

Would you hand me a plate from the cabinet over there? Your eggs are done.”

“Here you go. I’m sorry I probably shouldn’t have pried about your dream.”

“No, I should be being more honest with you. As long as we have been together I should be more understanding of your fears.”

“I’m here for you, and I’m willing to listen if you need to talk.”

“I’m not so scared of them finding me. Though I do still have a nagging fear that you might decide to leave me anyway. I’m afraid of what diseases I could have at this point. I’m afraid of what kind of internal damage there might be inside of me.”

“I’ve told you already I’m not going to leave you. Diseases can be treated and they wouldn’t have let you go home if they suspected any internal damage was present.”

“I know all of that but I just have a different set of worries than you do, that's all.”

They sit down to breakfast discussing Wren’s dream as they eat.

“You told me yesterday about your Grandma’s lawyer setting up an emancipation hearing for you, how did that go for you?”

“You don’t miss much do you Norman?”

“Occasionally, but it’s my job not to miss details.”

“Well, he filed a report with the police which kept Mom at bay until he got a temporary court order against her. She called a few times and tried to come over once but Grandma wouldn’t talk to her on advice from Mr. Hardwick. When the emancipation hearing did finally come up it was the middle of summer, my bottom was healed enough I could sit with minimal discomfort and I found out what all the meetings between Grandma and Mr. Hardwick were all about.

It turned out he had hired a private investigator to check with Mom’s neighbors about anything suspicious over the years. Well needless to say they had noticed a lot more than I thought they had and many of them came forward. He also found the contractor who built my discipline room. He testified to removing and closing in the window, and to installing the original built in things. When he was questioned as to whether this project was a little weird for him he said no. He’d built dungeons dozens of times before and after that one but, had he known it’s intended purpose he would have refused the job and turned her in. The hearing took three days and in the end the judge granted the emancipation requested to me.

Afterward Grandma and me went out to dinner where she informed me that she had been in touch with Grandma and Grandpa Robbins. She was to call and let them know how the hearing went and if it went well they expected to see me soon. I called them as soon as we were home. I hadn’t talked to them in the almost two years since dad’s funeral. It was so good to hear their voices on the phone again. They wanted to see me right then and when I asked Grandma O’Malley when it could be possible she floored me with her answer.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow and should be there in two days.”

I hadn’t realized that Grandma had planned and packed for a trip while all this had been going on. As happy as I was to spend the time with Grandma O’Malley I was even more thrilled with seeing Grandma and Grandpa Robbins. After I hung up the phone I helped Grandma load her car with the suitcases, a cooler, and a box of snacks. Then we started making fudge.”

“You started making fudge?”

“Well, Grandma wouldn’t think of showing up without something; it just wouldn’t have been proper. We had fudge cooling all over the place pan after pan. I think we must have made eight or ten pounds of it and we probably ate a pound just in making it. We left early the next morning and spent the night in Sioux Falls. The next morning we were up early again and while I showered Grandma put a box in the bathroom. It had been shipped through the mail and addressed to me. When I opened it I found a traditional buckskin dress and beaded moccasins hand made as is the tradition of my family. I put them on knowing they were from Grandma Robbins. I braided my hair then stepped out into the hotel room looking much like I always did when I visited the ranch. Grandma stared at me for the longest time before she said anything.”

“When I look at you I always see the O’Malley’s and the McGregor’s but now; I see your father.”

"When we arrived at Grandma and Grandpa Robbins’ ranch I was very shocked to see all my aunts, uncles and cousins already there and waiting for me. It was quite a gathering but Grandma O’Malley just waited by the car. So I went back to see what was up.”

“Wren dear, this is your family so I’m going to head back to town and find a room.”

“Now what grandma O’Malley hadn’t realized was that Grandpa Robbins was also curious as to why she stayed there and had come up behind her while we were talking.”

“You will do no such thing. You are our Wren’s family and that makes you our family. Your room is in our home and I will hear no arguments about it.”

“We were up till the very early morning hours that night and most all of us slept out around the remains of the bon-fire that had been set upon my arrival. I woke early the next morning as the sun was just starting up over the horizon and found myself looking straight up into the face of a coyote.”

“Good heavens what did you do?”

“Asked him what his trick was.”

“I don’t get it.”

“A coyote is a trickster, that's how he teaches. And if you ask him what his trick is he has to tell you.

Now uncle Peter heard me, looked around and saw that old coyote. When he stood up it looked at him, looked at me and walked off.

When we all sat down for breakfast my encounter turned into everyone’s big topic of the day. It was decided that if I was willing this was a sign that I should start preparing for my vision quest. It took a lot of explaining to grandma O’Malley for her to know what was going on though. Not that she was slow, mind you but she had a lot to learn very quickly. I spent the next several days preparing myself then early one morning I entered the sweat lodge. With grandma O’Malley right there with me as she had been through all of my preparations. She felt it would help her to understand. When I emerged from the lodge I rinsed my body in the ice cold stream nearby. Then wrapped only in a buffalo robe I was led to my vision spot. Grandma after going this far was also wrapped in a similar robe and led somewhere else. My vision spot was at the top of a small hill deep within the Bad Lands. Once there I spread out the buffalo robe upon the ground, placed my offerings to the great spirit around me and sat upon the robe. In time I saw many, many things while I was there. Ancient peoples long since gone from the earth. Forgotten cities swallowed up by the earth and time. My own ancestors came and spoke with me.”

“So you sat up there through a hallucinogenic trip?”

“NO! There are no drugs used in a vision quest! Drugs are nothing more than a shortcut that more often than not leads you down the wrong path. A true vision quest is just you, purified, sitting within the gifts of God. Waiting, opening your heart to Him and listening to what He has to say. Most visions are symbolic, some lead you down a new path in life. Others answer questions you have in your mind and heart and some give you a new name. Mine showed me a path.

I lost all track of time while I was there and in what seemed like no time at all grandma Robbins was standing before me. I tried to stand up but found I couldn’t. I had been up there for four days and nights and was now too tired to move. She helped me into my dress and moccasins, then we went down the hill together. When we got back to the ranch I ate a little, showered and went to bed. Later when I was awake I talked with one of the elders of the tribe about my vision, that’s when I decided to go into archeology.

For all things Maura MauraAlwyen.com