Sunday, June 28, 2015

Visitors Part One


 
 “Hey son, wake up. I can’t stay long,” said a man’s voice while someone gripped my ankles and shook them lightly. The pain it caused my broken leg should have smacked me awake but it didn’t.
 
Recalling my dreamed visit to what I thought was the home of my youth and the bear paws that dragged me away, I snapped to attention.

“About time grandson. Soon as the sun first touches earth this morning, I gotta be gone. Rules of the spirit realm you know.”

Pastel hues of predawn-yellow light gently rose against the blues of night. It was just after five and the hospital was very quiet. I fought to hold my exasperation in check. 

“Ouch! Dammit! Let go of my busted leg. Grandson? You got the wrong room mister?”

“Yah, my grandson. It’s okay that you don’t recognize me. I know your brain’s wiring has gotten all twisted up and been shorting out for many years. That’s why I’m here, Migizi. You wanted answers, need answers, and it’s time.”

I thought about pushing the button for a nurse but batted the idea away.

“Good one. You don’t want them thinking you are talkin’ to invisible relatives and ghosties,” said my grandfather. “I named you. Had a private ceremony at my house on the Rez, the one you just came visiting in your spirit. Now think, you’ll remember.” 

Great, here was another person, persona, or ghost capable of mind reading. I thought about the picture and sure enough, it looked like the older man at the foot of my bed. His house, he said. I thought it was my house, heck, maybe even Clay’s.

“Spirit realm? Ghosties? So are you the ghost of my Grandpa or just some fabrication of my shorted-out brain as you call it?” I asked.

“Yah!”

“Oh cripes, am I dead again Grandpa?”

“Yah, sort of. Don’t bother looking for that tunnel of light just yet. My visit has nothin’ to do with that,” said grandpa who chuckled and rubbed his chin.

“Now listen,” he continued, “I gotta share my words and scoot.”

“Sure, why not?” I asked, “For nearly a week now I’ve seen and heard from all sorts of odd ball people-ish spirits. Go for it Grandpa. Speaking of that, are you aware of my buddy Clay?”

“Hey, you testin’ me?” he asked. “Not allowed to speak that name. Listen up. I’m runnin’ outta time.”

There it was again, the idea of me testing people. I’d need to add that question to my list. And, I found it peculiar; the sense of clarity about things in the place of what should have been mental and physical shock.

“Migizi, Eagle, that’s your name,” said grandpa, changing my focus. “It’s a name to grow into, to lift you above a life of much soul testing and strengthening, a life of preparation. You have grown from the roots of spiritual people grandson, people chosen by the Great Spirit to heal and help others.”

The elder came around next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. Warmth entered it and traveled to my neck, throat, and mouth where it stopped under my tongue. Warmth turned to a pin point of piercing fire. Wincing, I reached for my water cup and thought of Aura, a good sign of memory being intact.

“My house became your house when I died and left it to my daughter, your mother,” he said. “She was born in that house when it was but a shack and before the government came and fixed it up.”

Shaking his head in disapproval, he went on. “She left it when she married your white dad. Yah, moved back after I died and then, your mom died in that house soon after, remember? After this is when the spirits came upon you and your dad moved ya’s away. Oh, oh, I’m outta here.”

Grandpa looked to the window, tossed a crooked smile my way, and vanished.

Copyright © 2015 Migizi M. New Song. All Rights Reserved.

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