Victim 18 Post 17

Wren wakes in the early morning letting herself out of the tepee to relieve herself. She is coming back to the door when she realizes how clear a night it is and sits wrapped in her robe looking up into the sky. She hasn’t just looked up into the sky like this in a very long time. It is in that one simple act that she begins to realize that her life has become so cluttered. That even the sky where she lived is cluttered to a point that she can no longer actually see deep into the night as she can now with only the thinnest sliver of the moon to distract her sight. She knows somehow, she must clean up her life and live much more simply in order to actually live and enjoy it.

“Why do you look into the sky?”

“Just noticing how clear it is, how much more you can see here.”

“Normally people jump and shriek when I come behind them like that.”

“I heard you come out through the door.”

“Good, no one else will sneak up behind you again then. But for now why do you look into the sky? I know you gave me an answer. But could it have more to do with trying to see deeper into your own soul?”

“I don’t follow you, what do you mean?”
“You noticed how clear it is, how deep into the heart of space you can see. Are you afraid your life has become too full, too empty or both?”

“Both?”

“Have you filled it with things trying to compensate for meaning? I heard you talking in your sleep. I heard you cry out with the terrors of your experience, and call out in wonder of what to do? Have you started down the road toward fulfilling your visions?”

“I have a masters degree in archeology with a minor in anthropology, and a second in accounting. I’ve worked on many digs while in college.”

“Were you happy in those places and at those times?”

“Yes, very happy. I’ve sent off applications for work within my major. It feels good to think of getting back into field work.”

“When daylight shows you need to go back and face your nightmares.”

“But, what about…”

“No buts, we can handle putting away the lodge. I will not take any other answer and it would be disrespectful to argue with an elder. So at daybreak I shall bid you farewell until your wedding day. For now come, it is still early, the moon has yet to make its zenith.”

At daybreak Wren remounts the horse that had brought her to Painted Buffalo Woman’s lodge and with a few last parting good-byes sets off across the fields toward the main ranch. It is still early when she reaches the house but her grandfather is standing and watching for her as she approaches. She notices her bike already pushed out from the garage as she dismounts and ties the reins off on the hitching post.

“How did you know I was coming back this morning or that I would be leaving.”

“I could say it was through a vision or any number of spiritual things but that would be a lie.”

He held out his hand for Wren to see a cell phone lying in his palm. They both get a good laugh and Wren goes in to change. Soon she is heading back toward St. Louis. The trip is smooth and relaxing to her as she quickly ticks off the miles. She arrives home late Sunday evening. A quick call to Norman lets him know she is home and that he will pick her up the next day to get her car. She goes to bed early and dreams of walking along old long forgotten roads to places long since forgotten.