Mia Darien - Good Things

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.”