Sue Swift - The Ranger and The Rescue

A door in the back of the shop opened to reveal the largest man he’d ever seen. Broad and tall, the copper-skinned fellow wore a tie-dyed T-shirt and shorts. His gray-streaked hair, braided with feathers and beads, reached his shoulders. He beamed at Serenity.

“Great Bear, this is the stranger I told Mairen about.” Serenity gestured. “Justus, this is Great Bear, Mairen’s soul mate. Great Bear discovered my true name and totem animals in a naming ceremony.”

Sounded pretty strange, but he couldn’t be picky. And Great Bear seemed friendly enough.

“Welcome, Justus,” Great Bear boomed. “Enter our home.”

A perky woman with white hair bobbed up behind Great Bear. “Want some fresh carrot juice?” she asked in a high, sweet voice. Clad in a flowing, robe-like dashiki, her bracelets clattered as she waved a glassful of orange liquid.

“Mairen.” Serenity kissed the woman’s cheek.

Great Bear remained in the shop, presumably to welcome any customers. Mairen led them into the kitchen in the back of the store and served large glasses of chilled carrot-orange juice.

He discovered he enjoyed the sweet blend. Serenity and her friends sure were unusual, but they ate and drank well.

“Mairen, this is yummy.” Serenity set down her glass after draining it.

“Even better, the electrolytes will promote the return of your memories.” Mairen directed her cheery smile at him.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He drank more electrolytes. Lucky for him they tasted so good.

“Come with me, stranger.” Her colorful skirts flowing, Mairen led the way into an adjoining room, which contained sofas, chairs, and a television set with a VCR. Evidently Mairen and Great Bear didn’t share Serenity’s disdain for mass media.

A brown-and-rust Native American-style rug decorated with a tree of life design lay in front of a brick fireplace. After closing the curtains, Mairen went to a cupboard and retrieved a long, misshapen swatch of umber-colored leather. She spread the hide over the rug.

“I usually let Great Bear do the smudge purifications,” she confided to him, “but I have had more success with issues involving mind-spirit integration.”

“Uh, what exactly will this, um, purification do, ma’am?”

“It’ll clear your mind and spirit of unwanted energies that could interfere with your memory.”

He tentatively fingered the leather. Its softness rivaled a woman’s cheek, and he bet it had been hand-tooled. “What is this, ma’am?”

“It’s a doeskin. Great Bear killed the animal himself and tanned her skin after asking her permission to use her hide for healing work.”

He didn’t recall asking permission from anything he’d killed. The certainty that he’d taken life hit him with the force and power of a wrecking ball. Shattered, he went cold. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t tell these good, innocent people he was a killer. He didn’t know if he wanted to conquer his amnesia. What if he found out he was a criminal?

Mairen reached into the cupboard again and removed a bundle of dried, leafy branches, about eight inches in length, tied with colorful strands of silk.

Recovering his voice, he asked, “And this is?”

“A sage smudge stick. It’ll purge the atmosphere of any negative energy or harmful spirits which might interfere with your healing.”

Yeah, right. “Oh, okay, I guess.”

Serenity smiled at him. “Your skepticism is acceptable, though you have no reason to disbelieve anything you see or hear today, do you?” She lit a candle that sat on a nearby shelf.

He blinked. “You’re right. I haven’t any experience with any of this that I can remember. Who knows, it could be the best thing since sliced bread.” He looked at Mairen. “Go for it, witchy woman.”

She giggled like a kid. “Lie down on the hide.”

He did, resting his head against the soft doeskin. His reclined position gave him a good view of the cracked stucco and a water stain or two on the ceiling. They oughtta reroof this place.

Serenity sat at his feet, cross-legged. She beamed at him. One high, elegant cheekbone reflected the candle’s mellow light.

He’d go through a thousand purification rituals just to see her smile.

Mairen, at his head, gently rubbed his temples. Her silver-and-turquoise bracelets softly clinked. “Tell us about your dreams.”

He tensed.

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