Chapter 3 – Flesh and Blood
291 Days
Spokane, Washington – 9:44am
Wendy ran her hail hand under the tap, washing off the scent of dog food and the slobber of dozens of very appreciative animals.
"That certainly goes a lot faster when you have help." she said wistfully, standing back so that the Winchester brothers could access the work basin to wash up.
"Well many hands and all that..." said Sam squirting soap onto his hands and washing them under the water.
"It's actually fun to get hands on." said Dean who was nursing a fat bellied puppy in the crock of his arm, rubbing its downy soft tummy as it dozed. He gave the little dog a final affectionate rub and then put it back in the cage where its brothers and sisters were sleeping peacefully after being fed.
"Don't get much opportunity to work with the animals?" questioned Wendy watching Dean as he went to the wash basin and followed Sam's lead.
"Not these days" he said sounding convincingly disappointed "It's mostly books and theory."
Sam stood back studying Dean. One thing that he had always admired about his brother was his ability to be a complete and total chameleon. For a moment he was tempted to believe that they were research fellows from Washington State University, it would certainly beat the reality of their situation.
"If you guys want to cut through the kennels the loading dock is on the opposite side, not far from the surgery. I'll meet you around there, I just need to sign out a truck."
The brothers watched as Wendy head towards the office section, then they moved in the opposite direction to the loading dock.
"Tell me something" said Sam hurrying up to Dean's shoulder so that he could be heard over the din of barking dogs. "How did you know so much about dog behaviour and hunting mode?"
Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother as he walked, shrugging slightly. "Animal Planet" was all he said and Sam had to smile. Dean was probably not what some would call intellectual, but he picked up information quickly and had enough confidence to apply it when he needed to. That's what made him so successful in the subterfuge component of their job. Sam, on the other hand, had a tendency to over analyse things or worry that his persona might have flaws in it. He hadn't quite developed the poker face that Dean seemed to pull on so easily.
As the boys waited at the loading dock, a large white truck with the cities seal on the doors pulled up and Wendy waved them over through the window. Sam and Dean hurried over to the window and noted that the truck really only had enough room in the cab for two passengers comfortably, with the bench seat it would fit the three of them at a squeeze.
Dean eyed the seat dubiously and then looked at Sam's tall frame. There was no way that Sam was going to fit in the middle position, and the idea of having the gears shift in between his legs held little appeal for Dean so he looked up at Wendy.
"Are you going to be all right driving with that hand of yours?" he asked affecting real concern in his voice "Would you prefer it if Sam or I drove."
Wendy sighed slightly "It should be OK. Unfortunately I have to drive in case we have an accident or something."
Dean smiled at her again "What if I promise not to hit anything?"
Wendy hesitated for a moment and then looking at the brothers she smiled as she relented. "Alright. I guess it makes more sense seeing that I am the smallest one here."
Smiling broadly, Dean hurried over to the driver's side as Wendy slid along the bench seat and Sam climbed in on the passenger's side. Even with this seating, the fit was tight and Wendy had to stretch her legs out next to Sam's so as not to interfere with Dean's gears.
Guiding them out on the leafy streets of Spokane, Wendy directed Dean through the town. It took Dean a little while to get used to not having a rear view mirror, but the further along they went the more relaxed her was getting with the large side mirrors that extended away from the truck. A CB radio crackled with the voices of dispatchers and the static replies of the various animal control officers as they drove and the trio chattered about generic safe topics as they made their way across town.
The suburb of Yardley like the rest of Spokane, was leafy and green filled with gardens and houses that sported plush hedges around their boundary. The streets were fairly quiet, except for the occasional jogger or mother pushing a stroller.
"If you cut down here, this will take you to the train lines" said Wendy pointing down one of the larger arterial roads.
Following her directions Dean turned down the street and almost immediately the houses began to give way to the twisted tangles of major rail lines that fed Spokane and the state of Washington.
"If you pull over up here, we'll have to go in on foot." said Wendy and Dean happily obliged, pulling the truck over and parking it safely.
Sam got out quickly, reaching in and helping Wendy from her position in the middle. The brothers were unsure if it was done out of habit or done very deliberately, but Wendy went to the rear of the truck and produced a long capture pole with a looped cable on the end. She also grabbed another pole that looked to be about two feet long, and slipped it into a ring on her uniform belt.
"I guess I don't need to tell you that if we spot any of these dogs, you'll have to keep your distance and leave it to me." said Wendy eyeing the brothers to assess how compliant that would likely be with that.
"Understood" said Dean and Sam nodded his compliance also, but both knew that they were merely telling Wendy what she wanted to hear. If push came to shove and the situation got bad, the brother's would do what they had to.
Dean and Sam fell into step with Wendy as she walked down the street. At the end of the street the train lines cut a path through the strange jumble of houses and wooded areas.
"We first saw the pack at the end in of the street and when we got close to them, they headed down to the train lines." she said pointing down an embankment
Sam studied the tall wire fencing that was near the train lines in deference to the residents who must live close by.
"How did they make it through the fence line?" he questioned.
"There are gaps and holes right along this area, come on, I'll show you." said Wendy and with cautious steps she made her way down the embankment towards the fence line bellow, the brothers following a few paces behind.
The had only travelled about 20 feet, when Wendy pointed out a large hole in the wire fence, that looked like it had been cut and rolled back to allow access.
"Watch yourself" she cautioned as she ducked in through the small hole "some of those wire ends can be really sharp."
Sam followed through behind her and then Dean came, taking care not to allow any of his clothes or flesh to touch the sharp wicked bare wires.
"We followed the pack along the lines for a while until the junction which is a few blocks that way." Wendy said pointing off in the distance.
The trio walked at an easy pace, swinging their eyes about the streets and bush lands around them looking for any signs of the pack, but all appeared as it should in the quiet suburban neighbourhood.
Dean studied the rail lines and watched as three different lines all converged with mechanical efficiency in one spot. He noticed that one of the lines that branched away from the intersection, lead towards a groups of shed and workshops that looked like a small maintenance village.
"What is this junction?" asked Dean again looking at the converging track works.
"This is where the Amtrack lines meet up with the local network and everything goes to the 1st Avenue station." explained Wendy.
"Is that the station up there." said Sam pointing at the clock tower that he could just see beyond the tree line.
Wendy paused looking quizzically for a moment at the two brother's "No! That's the WSU campus."
Sam immediately realised his mistake and was rapidly searching his mind for a reasonable explanation when he heard Dean's voice break through his panic.
"So that's where the Spokane campus is." Dean's voice was smooth and his tone sincere. "Not as nice as our campus, but still got a pretty good view."
Sam watched as the confused look dropped from Wendy's face and he said a little prayer to whoever was listening that Dean was so quick on his feet.
As they were looking around, they heard the warning bellow of an approaching train. And they made their way off the tracks to allow the train enough room to pass them. Dean had intended to ask Wendy some more questions, but the noise of the train made it all but impossible to hear anything let alone carry on a conversation. So Dean just stood watching as the train blotted out his view of the tracks, the workshops and the bushland beyond.
As the trio waited for the train to pass, they exchanged polite smiles. As the train passed, their view of the surrounding track yards and workshops was restored, although this time, their view was not empty. As the train disappeared like a theatrical curtain, on the other side, a pack of 10 or so large dogs stood with their hackles raised and the long wicked teeth bared.
At the sight of them, Dean froze, putting a restraining hand on Wendy, whose eyes were following the back of the train. When she turned to look, her eyes falling on the dogs now only a few feet away from them on the other side of the tracks, she froze dead on the spot, not even daring to breath.
Sam too, had frozen and was now watching the mismatched pack of animals with a nervous eye.
"Where the hell did they come from?" whispered Wendy, the merest hint of panic filling her voice.
"I'd say they've been stalking us for a while." said Dean, the hunter in him switching on like a high beam spotlight. "They used the train as cover."
Dean looked around assessing their situations. The pack had been smart, waiting until the trio had no where to go. The tall wire fence was at their back and if they tried to break for it in either direction, the dogs would be on them in moments.
At the head of the pack a large charcoal mottled mastiff curled his lips back further and took a menacing step closer, to where the trio stood clinging to each other. Clearly the massive animal was the alpha. It was a huge dog that's head came up to Dean's waist and it had a massive muscled chest and legs on it. Despite all of this, the most frightening thing about this animal was its massive jaws. There was no doubt that if they latched on to you, there was enough force in them to shatter the bone underneath.
With infinitely slow movement, Dean pulled the handgun out of his pants and flicked the safety off, but every time he went to raise the gun the dogs would take a few steps in his direction, the jaws salivating and the teeth bared.
"I wouldn't do that." said Wendy muttering through her teeth at Dean "That seems to be making them mad."
Tending to agree with the animal control officer, Dean hid the site of the gun away behind his back and the progress of the dogs halted.
"Sam, I could take a few of them down before they attacked, but I wouldn't get all of them." said Dean looking meaningfully at his brother " And I have a suspicion that the hot stick that Wendy has on her belt wont be too much of a deterrent. I've seen the Doc work with a dog mind before, is there anything that you can do?"
"I'll try" said Sam realising that they were very rapidly running out of options.
Normally Sam would have closed his eyes and reached out to the animals, but he was unwilling to let them out of his sight, so he fixed his gaze on the alpha male, and reached out to it with his senses.
As he touched the animals mind, everything within it was foreign to him. He recognised the feelings of aggression and the blinding anger, but it was like it was an impression of these emotions. There wasn't any logic or context to these feelings, there was just pure feeling. Sam had no idea what to do with that knowledge, but he kept studying the thought patterns of the animal looking for something anything that he might use to be able to help them out of this situation.
For the briefest of moments he got the distinctive feeling of feedback, sort of the psychic equivalent of a microphone being taken too close to a speaker and then there was this sort of white haze in his connection. He had lost everything from the animals as if its mind had been deliberately blanked. The loss of contact unnerved him and instinct churned in his gut.
"Run" he yelled a split second before the pack of dogs broke at them like a snarling snapping wave.
Dean did and abrupt about face, grabbing Wendy by the arm and propelling her to the chain link fence. Sam, with his long legged strides was right behind them and with a strength born of desperation; the brother's propelled Wendy half way up the fence, her capture pole falling uselessly to the ground bellow.
She grabbed on with one hand, but her injured hand slipped on the links and she awkwardly began slipping backwards. Without thought, Sam placed a large hand on her ass and gave a mighty shove, hopping that the momentum would help her climb.
With the added boost, the panicking woman was able to hook her arm over the top of the fence, ignoring the barbs that bit into her flesh. She scrabbled, as did the brothers beside her to climb the fence and throwing her leg over, she pulled the rest of herself over, falling heavily to the ground on the other side.
Dean was right behind her, but Sam was longer and had started his climb a little later. He was still in striking range when the mastiff attacked. It launched itself off the ground snapping with is massive jaws at the back of Sam's leg. Fortune seemed to be smiling on the youngest Winchester because the dog's sharp teeth all but glanced off his flesh instead tangling them selves in the denim of his jeans.
The mastiff hung on for grim life, preventing Sam from being able to climb further, the sound of the denim shredding as the dog's teeth cut through it like paper. A second animal, leapt up at Sam's other leg, this time, its long canine teeth sunk into his calf muscle.
As Dean dropped awkwardly, almost on top of Wendy he pulled out his gun and fired at the dog that had attached itself to the back of his brother's leg. The was a high pitched yelp and the animal fell to the ground, limping on three legs as it beat a hasty retreat. Dean went to fire a second time, but his angle on the ground and Sam's flailing limbs meant that he risked shooting his brother, so instead he dropped the gun and reached up to help he brother who was madly scrabbling over the top of the fence.
With Wendy helping at his shoulder, under Sam's combined weight, the three of them fell to the earth in a sprawl of arms and legs. From his vantage point under his brother Dean watched as the pack of dogs, trotted away, crossing the rail tracks and heading towards the work sheds. If he had been able to get to his gun he probably would have taken a few more shots, but at this very second he was just glad that everyone had gotten out of that little situation relatively unscathed.
The three lay for a long moment, each of them breathing hard as they gingerly untangled there cut and aching limbs.
"I've got to call this in" said Wendy nursing her bandaged hand gingerly to her chest. "Those dogs are a complete menace. I've never seen anything like this."
"Actually" said Dean, looking at where the barbed wire had bitten into his jacket and jeans. "I think it is probably best if you let me and Sam handle this."
"Excuse me" said Wendy agitatedly "But this is a city problem, and the city has to deal with this."
"Wendy" said Sam, hissing her name through his teeth as he inspected the wounds on the back of his calf. "Trust me when I say the city isn't equipped to deal with this."
"What do you mean?" Wendy said, her anger and shock making her voice slightly shrill.
"Come on" said Dean "Let's go get ourselves cleaned up and we'll explain."
With that he held his hand to her to assist her to her feet and together they helped Sam stand. His brother was limping fairly pronouncedly, so Dean pulled one of Sam's arms across his shoulders and was slightly surprised when Wendy did the same on the other side and together the limped off down the street making their way back to where they had left the truck.
"Dean" said Sam as they went "If I ever doubt you again, I give you permission to slap me upside the head."
Dean gave is brother a smile. "Can I have that in writing?"
291 Days
Hot Springs, South Dakota – 9:22am
As surreptitiously as she could, Hannah eased herself out from behind the computer that was in front of her, and looking over her shoulder to confirm that she was not seen, she walked away from the terminals that were lining the wall of the Hot Springs Public Library.
Her ongoing battle with technology had cost the Public Library two computers and not wanting to make a third computer completely useless, Hannah simply gave up and moved away from the machines all together. It was a testament to how perturbed she was, that she couldn't even control her gifts for long enough to surf the net for a moment.
She decided that she would have to take a different tact. Checking her watch and calculating the time difference, Hannah dialled Patrick Shaughnessy's number and waited for a reply.
"Shaughnessy" a voice said blearily and Hannah knew immediately that Patrick had been sound asleep. She checked her watch again just to make certain she hadn't miscalculated – but it would have been about 8:30 am in Boston, so Hannah was somewhat surprised.
"Patrick, its Hannah. I hope I didn't wake you."
"No" said the voice again "I was up."
Hannah ignored the bald face lie and smiled to herself.
"I hope you're keeping well?" she finally asked, now feeling really awkward for waking him up.
"Yeah" he said breathing out hard "I'm not bad. I've shifted to nights so I could leave my days free to help Mario and Joel."
"Really?" said Hannah somewhat surprised "What helping them find Emily?"
Hannah felt a pang of guilt as she bought up the young woman's name. Emily had been one of the possession victims from Asbeel's attack on Hannah's cottage, and unlike the others who had found strength in there ordeal, Emily had been irrevocably traumatised, disappearing off the radar.
"Yeah." he said rather doggedly "We got a tip that she had been seen in Indiana, but by the time Mario and Joel got there, the trail was cold. I mean they're both really great guys, with the best of intentions, but they're not professional investigators, so I decided that I would help them as much as I could from here."
"Well let me know if there is ever anything that I can do." said Hannah, feeling slightly guilty that she was not in a position to do more. She had barely known Emily, but she certainly felt a lot of empathy for the young woman.
"Thanks." said Patrick "How did you go with the Coombs case?"
At the mention of Amelia Coombs, Hannah's mind turned back to the horrid day not so long ago where she had broken the news to Amelia's parents just how their little girl had died.
"I wouldn't want to do that in a hurry anytime soon." confessed Hannah remembering how Ben Coombs had tossed her physically out into the street. "I don't know how you police officers do it."
"It never gets easier." replied Patrick reflectively and there was a long pause in the conversation as both considered this.
"Now" said Patrick finally "I'm sure you didn't call to just shoot the breeze. What can I do for you?"
Hannah winced, feeling again like such a heel to be asking for his assistance yet again.
"Look to cut a long story short, I'm trying to find Sam and Dean, but I'm having a bit a trouble tracking them down."
"I assume you tried to call?" said Patrick, and Hannah swallowed hard, not wanting to get into the details with Patrick if she could avoid it.
"Yeah I did, but I can't raise either one of them." said Hannah "The thing is Pat, at the moment they don't want to be found."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised by that. I saw an all points bulletin come in from the FBI. They sure as hell must have pissed off someone at the Bureau." replied Patrick, but Hannah could tell from his tone, that he didn't believe that they were guilty of the crimes they had been accused of. Despite that, Hannah felt compelled to defend them.
"They're innocent you know." she said emphatically.
"Of course they are." replied Patrick to Hannah's great relief "After what I've experienced and after what they did for me, I knew the moment I saw it that there must be some kind of mistake."
"Anyway" continued Hannah, feeling the tension starting to leave her shoulders. "I managed to track them to a cabin in South Dakota, but from there I only have a couple of clues to go from and I was hoping that you could help me out with them."
Hannah could hear a bit of scrabbling through the phone and surmised that Pat must be grabbing a pen and paper.
"Shaughnessy professional investigation services at your service. Hit me with what you got."
Hannah had to smile at Pat's curling Boston accent. In some ways it made him sound very hard, and yet when he spoke kindly or joked around it just seemed to add emphasis to those sentiments.
"Thanks Pat" said Hannah, sincerely grateful for this man's help "I found two bits of paper, one of them had the name of a Demon on it, which I am going to look up now, the other had a listing of events and dates on it. I tried looking them up myself, but as it is I'm going to have to leave the Hot Springs Public Library a rather healthy donation just to make up for the two computers that I have already fried."
"Alright" said Pat and Hannah could here the smile in his voice "Read out the list of events for me and I'll see about cross referencing them."
Hannah read down the list of half a dozen events and dates and waited patiently as Pat systematically read them back to her.
"You got any feeling about what they mean?" he finally asked as he looked at the list before him looking for any kind of connection.
"To be honest I think the boys were looking for this demon Rimmon and they were looking up demon sign to try and pinpoint its location."
"By demon sign?" queried Pat "Are you talking about events that may indicate the presence of a demon?"
"That's exactly what I'm referring to. Their father taught them how to find the paranormal in looking at patterns of events and seemingly isolated incidents that actually formed a much greater pattern."
"Wow" remarked Pat "Maybe Shaughnessy professional investigation services could do with a few lesson on the Winchester method. I tell you what, I'll go see what I can dig up and then I'll get back to you as soon as I have something."
"Thanks Pat. Once again I really appreciate your help." said Hannah fervently.
"Forget about it." He replied dismissively "Us guys got to stick together…right? I'll call you soon."
With that the line went dead and Hannah switched of her phone and slipped it back in her pocket. Looking at her watch, she noticed that it was almost ten and she still hadn't had breakfast. She decided that she would refuel her engine and then come back and get stuck into the research about Rimmon. If indeed the boys were tracking this demon down, it could very well be the danger of which John Winchester spoke.
Hannah slung her purse over her shoulder and trotted out of the stacks of the library. She walked outside and again she was struck by just how beautiful the town of Hot Springs really was. It had this strange quality of colonial buildings mixed with heavy wooded frontier style buildings and all the main streets conformed to this particular blending of styles.
As she walked down the street hoping to find a diner, she heard a voice calling to her from the other side. Looking up curiously, Hannah made sure that the road was clear before she trotted over the street to where a tall dark haired man was waving to her frantically.
"Lady" he called, his accent lilting in favour of elongating each of the consonants "Lady, my grandfather wants to speak with you."
As Hannah got close, she could see that the mans face was well tanned, with the hook nosed raptor features of the native Americans who could be found in the Black Hills. He was probably in his mid forties and carried a solid thick frame, but the way he walked reminded Hannah of moving water, for it was light and fluid, not really impacting anything that it passed.
She studied the man who was smiling had her, his wide grin, making the crinkles deepen at the side of his eyes.
"I didn't think you would cross the street?" said the man still smiling at her, as if he saw some secret in her that she didn't yet know.
"Well you were calling me over weren't you?" asked Hannah somewhat confused.
"Ahhhh"said the man again with a smile, tilting his head slightly as if he were listening intently to something "Foreigner. That is why you have not fear."
"I'm sorry, but I'm dreadfully confused." confessed Hannah, yet despite her confusion she felt incredibly safe in the presence of this man, even if she didn't understand exactly what he was smiling at.
"Most of the locals are afraid of my Grandfather's medicine, so if we call to them, usually they will go running the other way." The man explained, taking Hannah gently by the elbow and leading her into the shade of an awning outside the front of a general store.
On a rustic carved bench set by the door of the general store, a wizened old Indian sat his shoulders curling slightly under the weight of his age. He wore a weathered black hat over his long grey hair and Hannah couldn't be sure, but she thought the feathers poking out from the hat band were eagle feathers.
There was a strong family resemblance between the old man and the younger man, but where the old man's skin was a rich caramel colour, his grandson's was paler, a testament to the mixing of his Indian heritage with at least one white parent.
The keen eyed old man, studied Hannah for a long moment, his dark eyes never leaving her. It got to the point where Hannah found herself fidgeting she was so perturbed by the intensity of the man's gaze. Now she understood why the locals hurried off in the opposite direction.
The old man spoke, his words almost mumbled and to Hannah they were unintelligible, but his grandson just smiled and nodded.
"Grandfather says that you should look at him and see him, so that you will know that the words that he speaks are truth."
Hannah looked at the younger Indian, feeling somewhat confused, but then she felt a small flash at the peripheries of her senses and realised what the old man meant. Closing her eyes Hannah turned her focus on the old man, narrowing down her perception until she could feel nothing but his energy. In her mind she could see him sitting before her, his spirit form was that of a young man surrounded in white gold light. His form quickly changed and she saw a bear and a crow and and eagle and knew them all to be part of the one man.
Hannah had to work hard not to let her jaw drop. She had never in her whole existence experience anything quite like this. As an anthropologist, she knew and had studied the beliefs of the Native Americans along with many other cultures, but until now, she had never fully appreciated the potency of their inner spiritual life and the power of their magic.
Slowly she opened her eyes and a smile spread across her face as she was once again looking at the wizened shell of the medicine man who sat before her. His grandson smiled again as if they were sharing some inner joke and whispered in her ear.
"So few people see him anymore, that when they do he likes to show off a little."
Hannah smiled, repressing a laugh as she let the younger Indian guide her down onto the bench next to his grandfather. The old medicine man didn't look at her again, instead his eyes were fixed out in the middle of the street, but his focus was somewhere far away. When he began to speak, it startled Hannah slightly, but his voice was earthy and rugged with age. On her other side, his grandson translated.
"When my grandfather was just a boy in his village, the medicine man told him a tale of Howahkan who was a great medicine man to his people long before the white man came to these lands. Howahkan, travelled to many tribes, speaking with the elders and gaining their knowledge. He learnt all of their medicine and became strong with it. The crafty Crow began to worry that Howahkan had indeed become smarter than he so he flew down to Howahkan as he slept and whispered in his ear, that he would never be a great medicine man until he capture the magic of the rattlesnake."
Hannah barely breathed as the old man told his story, there was something almost musical about the old man's words echoed in English by his grandson.
"When Howahkan awoke, he was determined to have the medicine of the rattlesnake, so for many days and nights he walked through the hills turning over stones to find a rattlesnake who he could take this magic from. When he was tired and sick from hunger he finally found a snake and with the last of his energy he grabbed it with both hands and he put it in a deerskin bag. When he returned to the village he put the deerskin bag into a box and then he returned to seeing to his village, happy in the knowledge that there was now no medicine that he did not have."
The young Indian paused for a moment as he listened to the words of his grandfather, then he began to speak again.
"For many years Howahkan worked his medicine, and others would travel all the way to his village to ask him to visit their lands and bless their lands and their animals with his medicine. Happy to share his knowledge Howahkan would journey to these villages and work his medicine for all. It was on one of these trips, that Crow convinced Coyote to steel the box that contained Howahkan Rattlesnake medicine in it. While Howahkan slept, Coyote crept into his camp and took the box burying it on the prairie where no one would find it.
When Howahkan woke and discovered that it was gone, his sadness knew no end and he could no longer work his medicine. When a great sickness spread across the land killing all of the hunters and the animals, the village elders begged Howahkan to work his medicine, but he told them he could not, and many in the village died from hunger.
Then the winter came and the snow fell thick on the ground, so none of the animals could eat and more of the people of the village died. Again the elders asked for the aid of Howahkan, but he refused their pleas. The spring would not come and those who remained begged Howahkan to work his medicine and he said without his rattlesnake magic, that he could not and the rest of the village died. When spring finally came, Howahkan was the only man left in the village and by now he was an old man, he could no longer hunt and he was sick with hunger. As he lay dying, Crow came back to laugh at Howahkan for his foolishness."
Hannah waited for either one to continue, but both sat in silence. She went through the details of the story in her mind, but to her it seemed unfished and she looked for one to the other in her confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand" Hannah said, trying to hide her desperation from her voice "How does the story end?"
Without waiting for his grandson to translate Hannah's question, the old man began to speak again. Hannah waited patiently for him to finish and then turned her eyes on the grandson who still smiled at her.
"The story ends with Howahkan dying while Crow laughed at him." said the younger Indian with a knowing smile.
Hannah was confused and she was starting to find the smile plastered on the grandsons face irritating. Again she ran through the details of the story in her mind, but as far as she could see there were several morals to this particular tale and none of them seemed to pertain to her situation.
"I don't understand, what does it mean?" she said looking again at the old man, knowing full well that he understood every word that she spoke.
The old man smiled at her and patted her hand where it lay on her leg as he spoke.
"My grandfather is sorry that he can not finish this lesson now, but he says you are not ready for it yet." translated the younger Indian.
Hannah looked at the old man determined to argue that with him, but the words would not come out of her mouth. Instead she was filled with an instinct that something important had been exchanged here, so she closed her mouth and smiled at the old man in spite of the confusion tumbling around in his brain.
"Thank you." said Hannah, hoping that her voice sounded more gracious than she actually felt "I will think on what you've told me."
Remembering her studies, Hannah recalled that it was customary to give a gift to a medicine man. I couldn't be a trinket or a trifle, it had to be something of value to the recipient to honour the medicine mans time and powers. Without thought Hannah reached around to the chain at her throat and unclasped the catch. On the long gold chain was a pendant of a Tibetan prayer written on a gold disc. She had bought the pendant when she had first arrived in the United States and it held more sentimental value for her than any real monetary value.
Hannah took hold of the old mans hand and opening his fingers; she let the pendant and chain pool in the centre of his palm.
"I was told that this would protect the wearer. I hope that it serves you as well as it has me."
The old man looked at Hannah for a moment, and she could see both the shock and the grudging respect that he had in his eyes. He looked sharply at his grandson and muttered a few words to him.
"My grandfather senses that there is strong medicine in this necklace and he would not like to take it from you if it would leave you unprotected. Even now, he says that a restless spirits walks in your shadow."
Hannah looked at the old man again and smiled at his concerned expression.
"I know all too well about the restless spirit, he is now almost like a friend of mine. And as for leaving myself without protection, well you don't need to worry about that."
With that Hannah opened the cuff button of her blouse and showed the old man the gold Egyptian bracelet that she wore underneath. It had been a gift from Michael on her 21st birthday and it was supposed to be lucky and bring prosperity to the wearer.
Hannah had discovered later that the hieroglyphs imprinted on it, were in fact a spell from the Book of the Dead, protecting the soul of the wearer from monsters and darkness.
With reverent fingers that old man ran his fingertips over the soft bevelled design, as he did so a smile came to his age hardened face, and the lines by his eyes and by the corners of his mouth deepened.
"More strong medicine." said the old man in heavily accented English "Just like Howahkan. Collecting the medicine of many tribes."
With his words, Hannah felt like the first pieces of this puzzle that he had given her, where falling into place and her smile broadened. Then she watched as with deliberated hands, he pulled down the cuff or her blouse to hide the bracelet beneath it. He bowed his head respectfully to her, and with a gesture that she recognised only from the movies, indicated that there interaction here was done.
Hannah turned to look at the younger Indian, who was still smiling his secret smile. She wondered if he shared his Grandfathers abilities and if so, what he must be seeing during this strange exchange to make him smile so.
"Thank you." she said as she rose to her feet. He rose also extending his hand congenially.
"If you are looking for the best place in town to eat, go another block down that way and turn right" he said pointing down the street "Near the corner there is a restaurant called Dale's. Tell them Willie sent you and they'll be good to you."
Dale shook the man's hand and then headed off in the direction that he indicated. As she put some distance between them, she heard the younger Indian calling after her.
"Go easy on her John."
Smiling she turned and waved and was glad to see that both men waved back. It had been a very strange encounter all in all, but Hannah felt the importance of it right to her very core, and when she reached the restaurant, she would be sure to write it all down to the best of her memory.