C. E. Murphy - No Dominion - A Garrison Report

“I’ll try.” I figured Annie would wake up the minute I touched her, but she only nestled against me when I lifted her. I hated to think what that meant for how she was feeling, and about how much she was trying to hide her sickness from me. She didn’t wake up in the colder air outside, neither, and I took her into the sauna still wrapped in the blanket from the couch.

Hester came in a couple seconds later, looked at me holding Annie, and decided not to argue about it. My girl was sweating already, curls tightening up against her forehead. I kissed one of ‘em and settled down to wait and watch. Truth was, Jo hardly used any of this kinda stuff. Power circles, sometimes, but never sweat lodges, so I didn’t know what we were getting into, except altered states of reality. Hester finally took that bag off her hip an’ pulled out a flat drum kinda like the one Jo had, only not painted so fancy. That was familiar, anyway, so I relaxed a bit as she started playing. Annie’s breathing fell into rhythm with it real quick, and Hester said, “I think we’ll try the spirit quest first, before any attempt at healing. It might help.”

“Sure, doll. Makes sense to me.”

From her face, I didn’t think anybody had ever called the woman doll before. Not that most fellas used it these days anyway, but she looked like she’d bitten into something sour again. She kept her mouth shut, though, an’ I didn’t try real hard not to laugh. Way I saw it, laughter was good mojo, and Annie and me needed every bit of that we could get right now. The heat started getting worse, an’ we all got quiet a while, nothing but the sound of Hes’s drum and our own heartbeats keepin us company. Annie took a sharp little waking up breath, and I kissed her forehead again, murmuring, “It’s okay, darlin’. We’re doing a little spirit quest for you.”

“Shouldn’t I be awake for that? I’m hot. What’s that smell, the cedar? We’re in the…” She tensed up and relaxed again almost all at once. “Oh. We’re in the sauna. Gary, you know I don’t like saunas.”

“It’s just for a little while. You relax, Annie. Just close your eyes and let whatever comes wander through your mind, all right?”

“Who’s playing a drum?” She sat up a couple inches, sweat rolling down her forehead, and frowned at Hester, who never stopped playing.

“I’m here to guide your quest, and perhaps try a healing later. My name is Hester Jones, and you should lie back down.” She wasn’t real polite about it, and Annie bristled enough to make me grin. Jo was always going on about how shamanism was mostly about change, and about getting inside of somebody’s head to give ‘em a moment when the world slips to the side and looks a little different. She said that’s the thing that makes healing possible, having an instant when all your preconceptions fall apart. Since even the idea of a shaman was kinda mystical and soft-seeming, I figured just meeting Hester Jones threw most folks’s expectations into a tailspin.

Annie, still bristling, sat up insteada lying down like a good girl. “What quest? I want to understand what’s happening.”

Hester gave me a look like that was somehow my fault, but I woulda bet the farm that she liked knowing what was goin’ on too. Besides, I wasn’t that much of a damned fool. I hadn’t stayed married forty-eight years by putting words in Annie’s mouth, or by taking ‘em out. After a good hard glare at me, Hes answered Annie: “We’re going to perform a spirit quest. Your husband is right in that there’s very little you have to do except be receptive. The drum will help bring you into a trance state, and if a spirit guardian wishes to help you, it’ll come to you in the trance. Usually an animal you see four times has chosen you.”

“And why are we doing this?” Annie was using her professional nurse tone, the one people hopped to without thinking why.

Hes looked like she knew what was happening, but she answered anyway. “Because a spirit animal will protect and fight for you as we try a healing. It’ll also make you more receptive to a healing.” She added that like she thought Annie was gonna need a lot of receptivity to consider magic healing as a possibility, but I had faith in my girl.

Annie’s mouth pursed up and her eyebrows bobbed a couple seconds before she nodded and relaxed into my arms again. “All right.” A heartbeat later her eyes were closed, her breathing as steady as it could be with her lungs clogged up, an’ the drum was takin’ us all away again.

I didn’t know if it was doing anything for Annie, but after a while it brought a couple fellas I knew outta the dark. The white raven and my tortoise came in to visit, but I didn’t think they were so much looking out for me as Annie. Both of ‘em were looking outward, waiting on something, and every once in a while I got a glimpse of different critters ghosting their way through the dark. Once I caught sight of a crow, and once other of a buncha walking stick bugs, but my guides kept waiting, looking for something I didn’t know what.

I guessed they finally saw it, even if I didn’t, ‘cause the raven started hopping around and flapping his wings like he was all excited, and the tortoise hunkered down feeling satisfied. The raven bounced up on the tortoise’s shell and settled there, preening and shaking his feathers while we waited some more.

Seemed like about forever before Annie let go a real soft long breath and whispered somethin’ I couldn’t quite hear. Then she turned her cheek against my chest. “How interesting. You should try this sometime, Gary. Something actually came to me. A—”

“Don’t tell us,” Hester barked. She was flushed, prolly from the heat, but she was kinda agitated, too. “A spirit guide’s choice is a private matter.”

Annie lifted her head and gave Hes a hairy eyeball, but didn’t say anything else. I didn’t figure I’d want Hes knowin’ what my spirit animals were, either, even if she was helping out. “You all right to try this healing thing, then, Miz Jones?”

She nodded, but she was paying attention to Annie, not me. “I need you to understand that a shamanic healing is most effective when the person seeking healing is receptive. Without your belief, there’s very little, perhaps nothing, that I can do.”

Annie gave her a hard look. “That certainly puts the onus on the patient. Does it help you sleep at night?”

Hester’s pink cheeks went pale and I tried to pick up my flapping jaw, not remembering the last time I’d heard Annie being that sharp, though I got where it was coming from. She’d spent a lotta years as a nurse, and always said a good attitude helped, but for her, medicine worked whether the patient believed in penicillin or not. I could see how the idea of laying it all on the patient would bug her right down to her bones. She started looking like she mighta regretted saying that, but she not like she wasn’t gonna back down on having said it.

It took a long damned minute for Hes to find her voice. “Shamanic healing doesn’t have to be at odds with modern medicine. I would encourage you and anyone else to also pursue conventional treatment. But if you’re willing accept your own role in the healing process, shamanic magic may be able to help.”

Annie’s cheeks were pink too, like she’d helped herself to the color that’d drained outta Hes. She was as embarrassed as I’d ever seen her, an’ murmured, “Of course I’m willing to accept it.”

Hes nodded, so I guessed they’d sorted it out in the way women do when they ain’t gonna say what they really mean. “I’ve had a glimpse of the illness within you. We’ve done a spirit quest. I think we may need to do a spirit journey, now. If we leave this plane, the illness inside you may manifest itself separately, which would allow us to fight it in physical form and drive it away. Does that make sense?”