Good Things

Windsong by Christi Rigby

Jemine Windsong stood under the green and gold striped awning of the used bookstore she had just exited, watching as the lights went off behind her. The woman in the shop had made her tea, and let her sit in one of the reading areas all afternoon. Jemine had not eaten the cookies the woman had set out, even when her stomach rumbled, because she knew she could barely pay for dinner, let alone one of the books the woman sold, and it felt like she was taking advantage. She offered to help the woman stock books, or to sweep the floors, but the woman had said that it had been slow lately and she didn’t need any help.

Wasn’t that the story of her young life so far? A willingness to do, but the world’s lack of acceptance and an unstable path behind her, now made worse with her last choice to try and return home. It felt like it was the right choice, but making her way had not been easy.

She pulled her sweatshirt hood over her head. Colorado summer days were warm, but the evenings cooled, especially when the huge thunderstorms rolled in, lighting the clouds with spectacular shows in black and white, just like Great-Aunt Winterhawk’s ancient TV. Another wet evening, and the need to find a place to stay dry. The Waffle House down by the freeway had let her in a few times, but then the manager told her more than a cup of coffee was needed as booth rental, leaving her in a position of trying to pin down which car was his so she could see if the nicer waitstaff would let her stay when he wasn’t there.

A sound next to the building caught her attention, and she moved around the corner into the dark of the small town street and looked into the parking lot. There the woman from the bookshop was locking the door as she talked on the phone. The pale blue of the phone’s light built shadows into the older woman’s face as Jemine had seen in the fires of the reservation cast upon dancers and storytellers. As they always did, the thoughts of her home brought a lump to her throat, but foster care had dried away the tears. The woman turned and her purse caught on the door handle, sending her phone sliding across the dark pavement, almost to Jemine’s feet, as the other woman cursed into the night. “Fuck.”

Picking up the phone and offering it to the woman, Jemine smiled shyly, then turned to go once it was taken. As she moved, the woman waved a hand at her, then held up one finger, asking for Jemi to wait. Blue eyes looked appraisingly at Jemine and she began to squirm under the scrutiny, tugging nervously at her long, black braid. The woman was a few inches taller than her, and understandably more well fed, considering Jemi’s homeless state. As the other woman had let her stay and read earlier, Jemi decided to see what she wanted to say.

The phone conversation from this end was mostly, “Yeah I’m fine,” then listening, “Yes, I will get that and see you soon.” Jemine listened, but unlike the loud conversations her mother used to have over the phone, she could not even determine if the other speaker was male or female.

The bookstore woman hung up and continued to look at Jemine. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said and gestured with her phone. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

Jemine shook her head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Good. I am Gabby and I have to go pick up some things for a meeting, I could use help carrying them. In exchange, you can eat with us,” Gabby spoke with a gentle smile, and Jemine could almost feel the tension she was holding, ready to bolt at any sign of danger, melt from the woman’s kind demeanor. Gabby turned to her car, then looked back at Jemi. “Come on. You don’t expect me to leave my phone’s rescuer unfed, do you?”

Returning the woman’s look with a guarded one of her own, Jemi shook her head and followed, getting into the passenger seat of an older car. The interior was neatly kept, just like the bookstore, except a bag in the back and a few books on the back floorboard. She stayed quiet as Gabby got in and started the engine.

“Afraid dinner is likely to be a mishmash of whatever everyone brings. It’s my chance to be in charge of the meat, do you like chicken?” Gabby asked, not looking at her as the woman carefully pulled out of the lot, signaling as she turned right towards the main area of town.

“Eat about anything,” Jemi said softly.

Gabby chuckled. “Me too, as is obvious,” she said, then turned up the music. It was the same as had been on in the bookstore, piano and soulful singing, some horns, but nothing like Jemi had ever heard. “You like jazz?” Gabby asked.

“That the music?” Jemi asked, then when the other woman nodded, “Seems okay.”

“Find it gets me through my Mondays, no matter what day they fall on,” Gabby stated with a chuckle as if she had made a joke.

Jemi just stayed quiet, looking around. She hadn’t ventured far from the freeway in her time in town. She needed to find a ride north but the last ride had been with a foul-smelling trucker and she felt she had just gotten away in time before something bad happened. Great-Aunt Winterhawk was her grandmother’s sister and she had always told Jemi to follow the spirit wind, as it would tell her what she needed. But while in foster care, she felt like almost all the spirits of her people had left her. Maybe it was because of the Christianity most of the homes offered. The church her grandmother had attended was one of tolerance, acceptance and peace, but in the foster homes, religion felt forced. One of the other girls had told her that foster parents were judged by the social workers and if the social workers felt they were not Christian enough, they might get less children.

In her young life, so much had changed. Jemi’s mother was a white girl. She’d been sixteen, the age Jemi was now, when she got pregnant. Her father, a Lakota from the reservation, took her in with his family and did the only thing he could do at eighteen to support a woman and child: joined the military. They never married so when he came home in a flag-covered coffin two years later, the uneasy truce between Jemi’s mother and grandmother ended, and her mother left, only to appear every once in a while asking for money and then threatening to take Jemi away. Grandmother said her mother was getting money from the government that should have been Jemi’s because of her father’s death, but there was no way to try and get custody unless her mother signed her rights away, which she always promised but never did.

That was why when her grandmother’s spirit went to fly with the ancestors, Child Protective Services came onto the reservation and took her. She had no family left but her mother and her great-aunt, who was gone on a spirit walk when they came. Not that the spirits would have stopped them, nothing ever did once the county took interest in a child of the tribe.

Gabby had been speaking, but Jemi had been lost in her thoughts. “Sorry, wasn’t listening.”

The older woman looked at her. “I asked if you liked that book you had been reading in the store.”

Jemine shrugged. She loved reading, but she didn’t understand quite yet what was happening and it wouldn’t do to trust this woman. “S’a’right.”

They pulled into the small local market and Gabby grabbed her purse. “Come on,” she said, that easy smile still in place. “The others will start to eat all the sweets and leave none for us if we don’t appease them with meat.” Getting out of the car, leaving it unlocked, she didn’t even look to see if Jemi was following.

Curious, and hungry, Jemi got out and followed her. Once inside, Gabby was waving to the workers and chatting easily as she grabbed a cart. Filling it with a few items, she didn’t address the small shadow behind her, just accepted her presence. Soon they were back in the car and headed north. Just as the last streetlights of the town left the edges to the shadows, she pulled over and said, “Here we are.” The house was two stories. In the dark it was hard to tell, but the paint looked to be some pale color, maybe a yellow, or white. The house looked almost like a cookie house one of the foster homes had over Christmas, with colored shutters over wide open windows spilling light out into a slightly overgrown front yard with different flowers in bloom.

Continuing the pattern of trailing behind Gabby, Jemi picked up a bag and followed her into the house. All the lights were on, and once inside, she could see many candles lit. It looked like one of the groups she had read about in books, the ones that honored gods from the past, like her people, the gods before Christianity took hold. Seeing no places where it looked like they were about to cut her heart out, like in movies, she chuckled to herself and just accepted the comfort she felt when entering the place. There were five other people there, all calling out and asking what had taken so long with the food. Gabby answered them good-naturedly and led them all back to a dining room, which was easily as large as half of Grans’ house.

“Everyone calm down, we have food,” Gabby said, then began introducing the people before turning back on Jem. “I am sorry, I forgot to even ask your name.”

Jemine’s head was spinning with the whirlwind of acceptance she felt there, and she looked down. “Jemine.”

The others welcomed her, then swarmed Gabby as she laughed and continued to empty the bags. The older woman grabbed two plates and handed one to Jem, gesturing toward the food. “Meetings are no fun without food,” Gabby said, then started piling food on her plate. Watching to see that Jemi did the same, she then led them to the front room. “The house belongs to Wheaton and Marcy.” A woman next to the fireplace filled with candles raised her hand and a older man with long grey hair and a long beard in a chair near the window did the same. “We meet here every week to talk, discuss books, the world, and life in general.” Taking a seat in a high-backed chair, Gabby kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her.

Night, and the storm that rode with it, passed as everyone talked. The evening’s topic seemed to be books, though they eventually moved on to things happening in their lives and in town, but all were respectful of Jem’s choice to stay quiet. Some people left, and only Gabby, Wheaton, Marcy and one other woman, Jemi thought was Sheila, were left. Gabby looked at Jemi then, “Do you have a place to stay?”

Blinking quickly, Jemi shook her head. “Been staying where I can find a dry spot, but I can find somewhere.”

“Nonsense,” Marcy said. “We have three rooms, and with my children gone for a few weeks, you can stay if needed.”

Sheila grinned. “Stayed here once or twice myself when the wine was opened too late in the night.”

“I live just down the street,” Gabby said. “You are welcome to come with me, but you might end up pushing dogs and books off the spare bed. I am not heading out yet, we have some work to do tonight, but you are welcome to stay, or go, just know you don’t have to sleep outside if you don’t wish.” The way she said ‘work’ had Jemi curious, it held a weight to it, like it was something special.

Plates were cleared and the food was put away, then the others headed out into the backyard. Jemine followed. The smell of the rain that had passed was heavy in the night, and she was curious as they lit a small fire between a tree and a small pond. Sitting back on the porch, she watched and listened as they talked softly, calling to outdwellers and ancestors and then spoke the spirits of the land. This was more recognizable to the religions she had thought of earlier, but she had built trust in these people over the night and they seemed like truly good people, if there were any in this world. She was curious as to what they were doing, but gave them space. She was sure she was not in danger, but her great-aunt was a shaman and had raised her to know the spirits and the knowledge of their power.

As they worked, a blanket of comfort settled over her. Listening to them chant, talking quietly to each other and the spirits, helped her feel safe, protected, as if she was home again. While they worked, she began to notice things at the edge of the yard. At first, she thought they were just lights and shadows, but soon she could see the forms of animals and other things she had seen in her youth. She knew all about spirits. Her life had been filled with them until her grandmother died. She had never seen them before, except in dreams, but she knew that was what they were. The magic the people were doing was unfamiliar but the spirits of the land were not, and if they responded this well to these people, she knew deep inside that she was safe with them.

Watching with her outsider’s eyes, the hazel of her mother, she followed the spirits they had welcomed. She saw her own people’s, curious and welcomed as she was, and tears came to her as they neared, sensing that she saw them. Her great-aunt had taught her some of the White Buffalo Calf Woman’s language, but had told her it was not a child’s path. It was that of an adult and as she was not full-breed, she would have a struggle to learn all of their ways, but the spirits protected her the same.

The people in the circle spoke of their nine virtues: wisdom, piety, vision, courage, integrity, perseverance, moderation, and fertility. It reminded her of the seven Lakota virtues she had heard spoken of: praying, respect, caring and compassion, honesty and truth, generosity and caring, humility, and wisdom. All these things interlaced within Jemi’s mind and built a connection with these people that took time to honor the land and the spirits as did her people.

Sitting calmly, she waited. The spirits’ curiosity about her waned. Some danced around the fire, small human shapes, while the animals stayed further back, just watching. They circled as well, but she could tell the magic was an intrigue, not their calling. One circle of the flames, and Wolf padded slowly near her. The wolf was Winterhawk’s spirit animal, protector of them all, and just seeing it made tears come to her again. Wolf came to her, laid its head on its paws, and watched the magic with her, curious but unafraid, much as Jemi was herself. When the people began thanking the spirits for their company and their inspiration, Wolf stood, looked at her and in her head, like a bell, she heard, “The seeker needs a guide home.”

Turning its back on her, Wolf walked through the center of the circle and passed through their sacred fire before disappearing. Jemi was certain the others did not even feel the presence of Wolf, but then she saw Gabby’s body tremble slightly, as if chilled. Gabby turned and the spirits of the land around them stilled, fading to shadows until she turned back to the fire.

Jemine thought she understood Wolf’s message. She sought her home and in these people Wolf trusted. So, in her mind she made a decision, to share her story and seek guidance from those that welcomed her. Even if their religion was not the same, they honored hers and the spirits recognized them as safe.

Accepting Gabby’s offer, Jemine went to her home to have a roof over her head for the first time in weeks. It was not until morning, with three dogs laying around the women’s feet, that Jemi opened up. She did not share all of her past, but explained a shortened version of her life so far, and asked Gabby if she knew of a way to help her earn enough money to go home. Gabby was a good listener, taking in all she could, then she offered even more. She offered that once they went to her store, they would start searching the internet to see if they could find help. Grateful and with a full stomach, something she was not sure she had felt in months, Jemi and Gabby began a quest. This one wasn’t guided by the spirits as if she had been on a vision, but one of technology and research.

It was a few days before they felt they had reached a cold trail. There was no information on her great-aunt, at least no mention of her after Jemi’s grandmother’s obituary. Gabby rubbed her temples. It was about an hour before closing. “I am closed tomorrow and Tuesday, my weekend if you will. What do you say we drive out to your tribal lands and see what we can find?”

Jemi sighed and twisted her hair. “I do not know if I am welcome now,” Jemi said softly, curled up in one of the comfy reading chairs with the novel she had started the first day. She had never been outgoing, and not belonging anywhere for years had made it worse. To be in this place, with Gabby and a trove of books, was almost perfect for her.

They hadn’t talked about Jemi’s vision. Gabby had just accepted her trust once it was offered. Jemi had learned much about the woman. Her husband had been killed five years prior in an accident, and since then, Gabby had run the store and surrounded herself with the people of her home town. High school sweethearts, now separated by the veil, was what led Gabby to seek out the others in her town that were outside the boundaries of the Christian faith. She said they had nothing against Christians, but the One God did not speak to her the way the Many did. Jemi asked if they were witches and Gabby laughed, saying they were druids and being a witch would limit the definition of what they tried to accomplish in this world.

“We do not need to go to the reservation where you were raised if you do not wish. We can go to some of the other towns nearby, they might have better records than I can find,” Gabby offered. “If nothing else, your great-aunt was a shaman and others who have power might know.”

In Gabby’s home, Jemi had read and studied some of the books Gabby collected, so many books on gods and goddesses, nature and the spirit realm. She even had books on Native American Shamanism, and when Jemi read one, she saw a few rituals her great-aunt had done, making her even more homesick. Thinking of Wolf, and her great-aunt, she said softly, “It cannot hurt to try, right?”

In a rare show of affection from Gabby to the shy girl, Gabby took her hands and held them tight. “All we can do is try and as we try, hope for the best. The energy we share with this world has a potent power, so it is good when we give our best effort.”

When Monday came, they woke early and had a breakfast, then Gabby packed food into the car and a small bag for herself, as Jemi had her own things already. Before most businesses opened, they were on the road north and east.

Jemi laid her head on the window and watched the plains go by, green now, lush from the late spring/early summer rains. The circles made by farmers’ pivots stood out in the landscape, perfect markings of deeper green, well fed by the large watering systems. Listening to the soft jazz Gabby had on, she tried to relax, though true relaxation with where she knew they were headed was impossible.

They stopped for lunch at a small cafe in Nebraska. Gabby made certain Jemi ate, and then they continued on towards the Black Hills and the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Unable to stay silent in her nervousness, Jemi said, “Our reservation was once part of the Great Sioux Reservation, but the elders made their own place in 1889.”

“Really? I do not know much of the tribal areas around here. I probably should make a point of it as we try to honor the First People and their spirit kin in what we do. We know this is not the sacred place of our people, but we make an effort to pay attention to the spirits of this land, not the ones on European soil where our faith is based.” Gabby spoke easily. They had discussed spirits and her religion enough that she was completely comfortable in speaking to Jemi of it.

“The land there is sad, depressed, but it is ours. Actions of our ancestors at Stronghold Table led in part to the destruction at Wounded Knee,” she kept talking, growing more nervous the closer they got.

It felt like Gabby knew how she felt when she spoke next. “I am sure they wish you back, Jemi. They will be pleased at how you have grown and that you wish to be with them.”

For the first time in a long time, full tears came. She wiped them away on the back of her hand. “I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to be anywhere but with them.”

Seeing a rest stop, Gabby pulled in to it. “Your past was not your fault, not your decisions. You were taken. You didn’t leave on your own, honey.” Turning off the car and opening her door, she said, “Let’s take a walk.”

Jemi got out, still rubbing the tears, which refused to be held back, from her face. The heat of the southern wind teased her hair to allow pieces to fly free of her long black braids. The smell of the land was so close to what she remembered growing up, the scent of the prairie grasses calmed her a little.

Gabby began to speak again, “Our past shapes us, whether it is in the DNA passed to us from our ancestors who we honor, to the lessons, the joy, the hardships we encounter. Our future is something we can dream about, but we cannot see it yet. Our present is where we shape the future.” She led them to a shaded picnic table then sat cross-legged on it. “As a child, you had little control over what happened to you. You are a young woman now, though younger than most would credit womanhood to. Your ancestors and mine were betrothed and had children at your age. To me, you have lived enough to know what you seek. This journey feels right to me, and I read the runes last night and they favored this. I want to see you home with your people so you can continue to shape the future you want, not one some court official tells you that you have to have.”

Taking a seat next to the older woman, she thought on her words. The courts said she had to be eighteen to make her own decisions, but Gabby was right, she had already chosen her path. “I am just worried. I have been gone so long, what if no one wants me?”

A small prairie falcon floated overhead, its spotted belly and striped wings lifting on the same warm wind that danced around the women. “Know this, if there is no place for you with your people, there is a place for you with me. We will work together to figure out how, but I know the people of our town and county and I will make it happen.”

Jemi turned her gaze from the falcon to Gabby. “For reals?”

“Yes, Jemine. I think you are a special young woman and I would be honored to be your friend and help you find your future.” Gabby spoke quietly, “My friends say since losing my husband, I have been too alone. Having you with me has been a blessing. We will work together to find your people, your place.”

Looking again up to the sky, the thermal had carried the bird high enough that his markings could no longer be seen. “Maybe going to the reservation won’t be so bad.” Jemi’s words were as quiet as Gabby’s had been. Knowing she had a place to go if this didn’t go well made the fear of getting there ease.

Leaning back on the table, Gabby smiled and just let the quiet of the rest stop fall over them. That was until a big truck pulled in, rumbling and groaning as it found its way to a stop on the hot pavement. “Shall we move on? Maybe stop for gas and tea up ahead?”

“Only if the tea is cold,” Jemine said. She could not yet get used to the fact that Gabby drank hot tea even when it was ninety degrees outside.

“It’s a deal,” Gabby said, then slid off the table, offering her hand to the young woman at her side.

Looking at the sign of peace and connection offered before looking into the blue of Gabby’s eyes, Jemine took the hand with a smile and nod.

For the rest of the trip, the silence became filled with soft chatter, about the road, about nature, and more about Jemi’s people and the towns ahead. A weight had lifted from her in a way, having someone she trusted to share all these things with and allow relaxation to just settle in.

The terrain gradually changed, gullies and wild lands on the sides became more farmland. “Whiteclay is ahead,” Jemi said softly. “We may not want to stop there, a lot of people come there just to drink.”

“Wherever you wish to stay, Jemi. We can go up to Oglala or even up to Rapid City, though the information we find will be better locally,” Gabby spoke gently. Jemi felt her guidance, but was thankful it was not insistence. “If we have to stay the night, we can go to the casino.”

“We go through Pine Ridge and Oglala before reaching the casino, maybe drive through and decide what to do?” Jemi replied after a few moments of thought, her fingers drumming nervously on the door’s armrest.

She looked out the window as the town came into view. Weeds and small green trees gave way to a white building with red awnings that said “Divided……We Fall” on the side with a mural painted in blues and browns of the first people and the bluffs. A wooden cross high the front the early afternoon sun cast its shadow on the crumbled concrete. At the corner, the sign of her people in this community, were bodies sleeping, or passed out, in the shade. Jemi turned her head away, almost embarrassed for Gabby to see this.

The buildings were in disrepair, and there was trash in the streets. A reddish building marked with Lakota Arts & Crafts on the outside had more people sitting in front of the store, taking advantage of the shade it provided. It was no more than a blink of a town, and none of it was attractive.

After they were through, Jemi tried to release the tension in her shoulders. Looking back at the town in the side mirror, she saw a shadow at the edge of her vision. Turning, she could not see anything, but no matter where she looked, she sensed something moving with them.

Looking at Gabby to see if she felt anything, she saw the older woman keep checking the rearview mirror. “You feel it too? Or see it? What is it?”

Gabby’s heavier frame shuddered. “One, I think we just crossed a border, a defined space that we cannot see but has been long established. Two, since we stopped to talk, I have been feeling the presence of something working with us, guiding us forward. I didn’t want to say anything if you didn’t feel it, though. Some people are more sensitive to different energies than others.”

“Like the energies you called when you were working at the fire? The spirits of my people liked the calling,” Jemi said. It was the first time she had admitted this to the other woman.

“Yes… Wait, they did?” Gabby said, looking at her.

Jemi nodded slowly. “Yes, you called them outdwellers and then thanked the land there and they were curious and watched you all.”

Gabby looked surprised. Her mouth opened then closed before she spoke, “It is what we hope. We know our religion is not that of your people, but we hope to honor the spirits that were here before us and give them and the land thanks for hosting us. We do not want them forgotten.” She focused back on the road. “You saw them?”

Admitting these things among most whites would have had her ostracized or in child services again, but she trusted Gabby. “Since meeting you, I have seen spirits. Wolf came to me at your fire, that is why I decided to stay close. Anog Ite comes to me in dreams, even in foster care. She tries to teach me the ways of the women of my people, but I am not with them.”

“Anog Ite?” Gabby asked.

“She is the double-faced woman, one face beautiful and one ugly. She teaches the young women in their dreams. Wolf, though, usually guides a hunt or war,” Jemi explained. The memories of the stories she had been told as a child came forth.

“Wolf might be guiding your hunt for your family?” The older woman’s question was gentle. “I can sense energy but I have never seen the spirits except in my dreams and mind’s eye. I kind of envy you.”

“Most people think those that can see are crazy, even among our some of our people,” Jemi said with a shake of her head. “Grandmother used to say that Great-Aunt Winterhawk said I sensed the spirits even when my mother was pregnant with me. Every time she came over, I would kick my mother and she would complain.”

“What a gift,” the driver said, shaking her auburn hair. “No wonder you feel at such a loss away from your lands. If that border we crossed means anything to me, I think it means you will feel more at home soon.”

Jemi grew quiet, wondering if Gabby would be right. She was so nervous about this trip that she thought she would not really feel comfortable until, or if, they found her great-aunt.

It only took a few minutes before Pine Ridge appeared ahead of them. A small group of houses to the east, then a sandwich shop and gas station. Pine Ridge was much better kept than Whiteclay had been, it was almost night and day in the differences on the main road. Up ahead, a white church gleamed in the afternoon light. “Do you remember where your grandmother lived?”

Jemi nodded. “Go right at the light then past the Pizza Hut and a left at the next light.”

Gabby followed her directions, Jemi taking in the slightly more rundown area on the edge of town. There was graffiti on the walls of some buildings, less pride taken there than with the main road towards the casino. “The first left, then past the stop sign, the house on the right after it.”

Soon they reached the house, trees and a fence surrounding it. Gabby pulled over and looked at Jemi. “Here?”

Tears were in the young woman’s eyes again as she remembered being taken from here by her neighbors after she found her grandmother dead in bed. Watching from the window across the street as the emergency vehicle lights illuminated the house in the night. Then the tribal police came. They knew she had no one left but Winterhawk, and asked the neighbors if they would watch her until they could get ahold of the elder woman, which they said they would. It was the next day when one of her teachers had come with a white woman in a grey suit. The woman was from the county and without proper custody ever being taken for Jemi, the woman had taken her off the reservation. Jemi couldn’t respond to Gabby’s question as she just looked at her home.

They looked around the sides as they heard a sound. When they turned back, there was a coyote on the hood of the car. “What the f…” Gabby said then paused, because beyond the coyote was a tall man in a tribal police uniform.

It was hard to see his face, as the cowboy hat he wore shaded it, but with a sharp word, the coyote jumped down and sat at his side. It looked more dog than coyote now that it was sitting in the dirt, panting up at the man as if saying, “Look what I found for you.”

He tipped back his hat, as if to peer better into the car. Jemi sunk back in her seat, trying to hide. “It is okay, Jemi. We will handle this,” Gabby said softly, then rolled down her window. “Hello, can you help us?” she asked, smiling brightly at the officer.

“That is my job, ma’am,” the man responded with a smile that broke the shadows of his face with gleaming white. “I am sorry if Mica startled you. We were at home and the next thing I knew, he was off down the road.” He stepped around to the driver’s side. “I would joke that you are not from around here but the Colorado plates give that away. If you are looking for the casino, it is further down the road.”

Jemi shrunk back further in her seat as he leaned over to look in the car, “Shit, you are Slade’s girl, aren’t you? You are who Taku Skanskan told us to watch for. Come on, both of you, follow me. My house is just up the block. The old woman is going to be very happy to see you.”

Without waiting for them to say anything, he just turned on the heel of his cowboy boot. “Do you know him?” Gabby asked, looking at Jemi.

“No,” the girl responded. She had been so afraid of any authority on her trip home, but now it seemed she had no choice.

“Slade is your father, right?” the older woman asked as she turned the car to follow him slowly up the road, though his long stride was sure and she didn’t have to follow for long.

Jemi swallowed. “Yeah, my dad, but Gran and Auntie always called him Twohorn.”

Gabby took a slow breath. “We needed someone with answers and he seems to have them, but we can leave if you want.”

“No,” Jemi said, then paused. “He knows the name of my father, and he called his dog Mica, coyote spirit. Maybe he knows Winterhawk.” It was hard to trust anyone but Gabby, but she knew Gabby would take her and leave if necessary.

He led them up north to where the road turned into a four-wheel drive path, then to a house that sat at the edge of town. A tribal police car was parked there and in the shade was a table with a plate of half-eaten food and a pitcher of water, catching the late afternoon sun in the condensation on its side. Waving them in to park next to a white truck, he nodded and picked up the plate before walking inside.

The women got out of the car and Jemi looked around. This home once belonged to Jerimiah Two Wind. He had been a friend of her grandmother and great-aunt, and had sat next to Jemi when Child Protective Services had brought her to the church for the funeral. Mica walked over to them both, sniffing Gabby but circling Jemi and shoving his head under her hand.

That deep male voice interrupted, “He was who told me you were there. I was enjoying my dinner break and then he was off down the road like he was chasing a rabbit.”

Jemi looked up at the tall man. “Did you know my dad?”

“I did. My little brother and him went to high school together. I am sorry you lost him and Mary. My dad told me about you when I came home to help him,” he said, and Jemi could see a sadness in his eyes as he spoke. “I am Tobias Two Wind.”

As she petted the dog, she asked, “Jerimiah was your father?”

“He was, miss,” Tobias said gently. “I was practicing law in New York when he began to have some health troubles, so I came home. It was shortly after your grandmother died and he and your great-aunt were trying to locate you, but you had already been placed and they sealed the records.”

“A lawyer in New York to tribal police?” Gabby asked as she looked into his dark eyes. “Seems a pretty big change. I am Gabby Williams, Jemi is a friend of mine.” Gabby offered her hand and he took it. Jemi watched as the two sized each other up, then Gabby drew her hand back with a smile.

“A big change, but I was working with some tribal law advocates in the city, so not too big of a shift to come home and see what I had been working for all my life, in the flesh, so to speak,” he said, then gestured to the table. “I would ask you in but the breeze is starting and it will cool the afternoon.”

He looked up into the sun as it was lowering, then he and Gabby spoke at once, “It will be a full moon tonight.” The two looked at each other and laughed, then Gabby blushed slightly and looked to Jemi. “Want to sit? If Mica lets you, of course.” Another small laugh escaped her as the dog pressed into Jemi’s hand again.

She nodded with a smile. Touching the dog calmed her, but she was curious now. Jemi followed behind Tobias and Gabby, then sat at Gabby’s side. “Do you know where Winterhawk is?” she asked as Mica put his head in her lap.

Tobias smiled at Jemi, then at Gabby. “She has been out on a walk for a week. She has been staying at Mary’s home, hoping one day you would come back.” He stopped and his eyes narrowed as he took off his hat. “No, she knew you would be back. She told me a little while ago to keep my eyes out as the spirit of the wind was blowing someone home, but she didn’t know it would be you or she would have said.”

“Is that why you said Taku Skanskan told you to watch?” Jemi asked, then turned to Gabby. “Taku Skanskan is the master of the winds, and Wolf is one of his creatures.”

Gabby nodded, but turned to Tobias as he spoke, “Yes. In our last sweat lodge, he guided me that I would be welcoming a leaf upon the wind. It was pretty vague to be honest, but then the spirits usually are.”

Gabby laughed, and Jemi felt she should explain Gabby to him for some reason. She looked to the older woman, who seemed to know what she was asking and nodded. “Gabby is a druid. She honors other spirits than ours, but holds the ones of the land here sacred as well, just has never talked with them. I was with her one night watching her when Wolf came to me, and since then, Gabby has been helping me find my way back.”

The almost cocky grin the lawman had turned into a warm smile, dimples creasing his cheeks. “Then our people are in your debt, druid.”

Blushing softly, Gabby smiled. “Jemi is my friend, no one owes me a thing.”

He looked back at Jemi and asked, “You are what? Sixteen?”

Her comfort shrunk as he spoke. The legality of her being there was a problem and she knew it. “Yes, I couldn’t stay with the home I was in though.” She wouldn’t talk of the abuse she had taken there, but she was sure the pain and shame was in her eyes as she dropped them.

She had never told anyone, not even Gabby. The other woman placed an arm around her shoulder and hugged her gently. “She needed to find her family, and I will work with the courts to become her guardian, if necessary, to ensure she has what she needs.”

The woman’s words were fierce and protective and exactly the support Jemi needed, but in case it wasn’t enough, Mica pressed up on the bench and licked her face. “Is he really a coyote?”

Tobias’ eyes were on them, Jemi felt it and saw the thoughts flash through them. She wondered what they might be, then he spoke, “He is, found him out in the prairie. His mother had been poisoned and he was sick from her milk, so I took him in.”

As if knowing he was being talked about, the coyote looked across at the man, then sat and pressed his side into Jemi’s legs as his tongue lolled out of his mouth in a wolfish grin. “He is very well behaved,” Gabby said. “You have trained him well.”

“More he trained me, these are his visitor manners. He is much more a spirit of hospitality than I am, and Jemi there seems to have a way with him,” Tobias said. “I was going to put in a couple extra hours tonight, but with the full moon and all, should be a good night to try and find Winterhawk, don’t you all think?”

Jemi’s eyes lit up and her head bobbed. “You can do that? You know where she is?”

He shook his head slightly. “No one can find old wolf when she is alone but the spirits, and you, I think, as they are with you. But I am more than happy to help you on your way along with Gabby, if you will let me.”

Jemi looked up at Gabby, who hugged her gently once more then let her go. “It is your journey, Jemi. I am only here to support you.”

Looking back at Tobias, she said, “Please, I need to find her.”

The man stood. “Let me get you the spare key for her house. You can put your things there and change if you like. I will put together dinner and some things we will need to be out tonight. Come back when you are ready for dinner.”

“We appreciate your help,” Gabby said, then stood. “Come on, Jemi. If we are going out tonight, I certainly need to change out of my skirt.”

Tobias grinned, almost mirroring Mica’s look. “That is a shame, it is lovely on you.”

Jemi watched and laughed softly as Gabby blushed. “Thank you. We will be back later,” the older woman said, then looked at Jemi. “Shall we?”

They took the key and parked Gabby’s car at Jemi’s home. Nothing had changed from when Jemi left except for her grandmother’s room, which was clearly now Winterhawk’s. Jemi teased Gabby about Tobias, Gabby blushed as they spoke and readied themselves for the hike, denying any interest. It made Jemi relax and tease her even more. She was sixteen, not a baby, and she could see Gabby liked him. They both changed clothes, though Jemi did not have too many clothes to change into. Locking the house up again, they returned to Tobias’ home.

As they approached, they saw smoke and heard chanting. Walking around to the back of the house, they found him there, walking around a fire pit with a sage bundle. He raised and lowered it, making patterns in the evening breeze. His deep voice chanted to the spirits, and Jemi could see patterns and forms in the smoke. Gabby shuddered slightly next to her, then kneeled down to place a hand on the warm dirt. Mica came from within one of the plumes of smoke that carried from the fire out onto the prairie, stalking forward, slightly lowered to the ground, then lay at Jemi’s feet.

Jemi didn’t understand the words Tobias sang, but she felt them deep within her. As the spirits formed in the smoke, she saw them, the spirits of her dreams and of the stories Auntie Winterhawk told her, as they danced in the grey and the wind. Rising in height, then spilling out over the prairie, the last one, Wolf, curled around Jemi, then moved out after the others and made a path along the land that Jemi could see.

Stepping towards the path as Tobias’ song ended, Jemi watched and began to follow the spirits. “Dinner first,” Tobias said softly, stepping up next to her. “I will call again after we eat. That was the first call for them to bless our path, next call will be the one for guidance.”

Tipping her head to look up at him, she asked, “Can you see them too?”

“I am not a seer, but I can call them and feel them,” he said. “Around here, only your great-aunt can see them anywhere but dreams, and now you, it seems.” Flashing her a warm smile, he said. “Steak and salad for dinner all right? I didn’t know what either of you liked.”

Gabby spoke up, her voice a little quieter than normal. “I didn’t get to look this way avoiding meat. That sounds wonderful.”

Jemi nodded and watched as Tobias looked back at Gabby with a smirk. “I am glad, never could understand a person that didn’t like steak.”

Tipping his head toward the house, he allowed Jemi to walk before him. When they reached Gabby, he held a hand out to help her up. “You can feel them too, can’t you?” he asked.

Gabby looked up into his eyes. “Feel, yes, as you said, but I cannot see them. What you called is so different than what I normally work with, the wildness and depth of feeling they shared was almost overwhelming.”

He smiled warmly. “Come and be welcome to our lands, Gabby Williams. The spirits welcomed you, now it is my place to.” Jemi could see him squeeze Gabby’s hand then let go, leading them all in to eat.

After the meal, they went out and Tobias chanted again with Jemi standing where Wolf had walked from her earlier. This time, the smoke and the spirits she saw danced around her, moving to the song Tobias called. At the end of the song, Wolf appeared again to Jemi and began to walk out along the trail that led from the house. Jemi stepped forward and this time, Tobias and Gabby stepped behind her.

The light of the moon was bright enough to light the path, but Jemi didn’t really need it. Wolf led her along a rise in the dirt, guiding her over a path along which Jemi would sense, then see the other spirits step up and fade away.

They walked for hours, but to Jemi, it felt like only a few minutes in a dream. Along the edge of a ravine, Wolf began to quicken her pace and Jemi moved in time. Tobias and Gabby used their lanterns to help mark the edge of the path. A small creek ran through the ravine, then into some of the famous Black Hills before them. Rising high overhead, the aged rocks stood. Upon the cliffs, Jemi could see the shadows of the warriors of her people, watching over them. A little further into the canyon, a small hide tent appeared. No fire stood before it, but the moon’s glow illuminated it in the dark of the night.

Slowly the flap opened and a small, older woman stepped out in a white deerskin dress ornately decorated with feathers, beads, and bone. Opening her arms, she cried as she saw Jemi walking to her. “Welcome home, daughter of Slade. Welcome home, spirit seer. Welcome home, my blood. Welcome home, earth’s daughter.”

Jemi ran into her great-aunt’s arms and from behind them, Mica began to yip and howl. The world around them came alive with other calls of the night animals, all joining in to welcome Jemi home.