Spirit Dreams (Part 1)
Spirit Dreams

By: Shirley Ann Burton



The Ever-Important Disclaimer:
The Magician, and all other related material, are the sole copyright of Gaumont Multimédia. Angela Jacobs, John Whitefeather, Bobby Riggins, and Rhonda Whittington are my original characters. Khentura Fire Eagle, Michael and Victor Raven, Ananda Greenleaf, and Karen Swallowtail are the creations of Frances Marshall. I have received permission from her to use these characters. This story was inspired by a compact disc with the same title, as I have come to love the sounds of the Native American flute. Please enjoy this tale of self-discovery and hope. Oh, and there's a big surprise at the end of the story, too!


Part 1: Stressful Pressure



On a rainy day in Electro City, one home was busy with work, work, and more work. The Magic Express was looking like a mess, and everyone living in it had to do something to keep it clean.
Ace Cooper, the Magician, was hard at work dusting off the bookshelves on the second floor. He had to wear a dust mask to keep the dust bunnies from getting into his mouth and nose. "It's too bad magic can't get rid of this lousy dust, but I think the shelves desperately need a cleaning job."
The experienced apprentice Cosmo was in the main computer room running a complete diagnostic check on Angel, the computer which properly maintained the electronic working order of the Magic Express. "Okay, Angel, let's do a scan of all your visual receptors to make sure they're still workin'."
"Very well, Cosmo," the AI responded. "Commencing test run of all visual receptors . . . now."
The standard colors of red, green, and blue ran across all the screens in the computer room.
"Hold it," the apprentice interrupted. "Too much green on monitor number 22. Adjust properly, please."
In a matter of seconds, Angel made the necessary adjustments. "Proper adjustments have been made."
"Great, Angel."
Meanwhile, with a mop and bucket in hand, Angela Jacobs, the recent addition to the Magician's "family," wanted to make sure the kitchen floor was completely clean, so she went over it again and again, water and all.
"I've got to do this right," she said to herself. "There's no room for spots anywhere, so if need be I'll do this 10 times for the shiniest floor possible."
She went over the floor with all her effort without using any of her magical powers. She understood having special powers would never put her above anyone in the home, and she felt better doing hard work with her two hands instead of resorting to the short cut of magic.
Ace and Cosmo had completed their tasks in about an hour and decided to walk to the kitchen.
Unfortunately, the second Cosmo stepped onto the kitchen floor, he slipped and fell on his side fairly hard. "Aw, man," he said angrily. "This floor's way too clean. I can't walk on this!"
Angie finished her task and then noticed Cosmo on the floor. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"Angie, you knew you had to mop the floor, but did you have to do it so well? There's no way I can get through this without fallin' on my butt!"
"Cosmo, that's the way I've always done things. I want it done completely right and on the first try. Of course, it took me about 10 tries to get this floor perfectly clean."
"10 times!?" the experienced apprentice shouted. "You mean you mopped the floor 10 times? It would have been fine on the first try. You don't have to overdo it."
"And just what do you mean by overdoing it?" the young lady stated angrily. "I was just making sure the floor was clean."
"Look, Angie, this is the Magic Express, not Westminster Abbey."
Her face grew angrier with that comment. "If you think you can do better, Cosmo, I dare you to do it!"
Ace was totally shocked at Angie's sudden rage and had to come between her and Cosmo. "All right, you two, hold it."
Angie breathed hard as her face was still angry.
"Cosmo, you wait in the living room. I'll talk to you in a few minutes, okay?"
"Fine, but make sure the clean freak gets the point."
"Watch it, Cosmo," Ace snapped at his experienced apprentice. "Just go sit in the living room."
As Cosmo walked away, Ace looked at his kindred sister in shock. "Angie, what happened? I've never seen you get like this before on anyone besides Black Jack, Sonny Boy, and Faceless. I'm surprised you didn't retaliate with your powers."
"That's something I'll never do, Ace," she said in a low tone with her face down. "If I did that, it would make me irresponsible, and this power is a responsibility, not something I can just do with as I please."
He then put his hands on her shoulders. When she shrugged, he became worried. "Angie, what's wrong? You know we're here for you."
"I know. It's just that…this is the way I was raised. If I want the job done, it has to be done right, not just done. Mom always told me if I couldn't do it right the first time, keep going until it is right."
"I understand. Since you lived in a regular home with parents, you were raised to be a responsible person. Somehow I think Cosmo may have forgotten about the fact you were never a criminal like we were before."
Angie's anger was soon replaced with sadness and regret. "What have I done? Why would I get angry at my own friend?"
"It's okay," he said calmly as he held her in a warm hug. "Sometimes someone will say the wrong words, and it can easily trigger someone's anger. Now, you go wait in your room while I speak to Cosmo, okay?"
"Thanks, Ace." She then walked to her room as he took off for the living room.
There, Cosmo was still steaming. "Well, did ya get through to her?" he asked.
After a sigh the Magician answered, "Yes, but you didn't have the right to make fun of her cleaning habits."
"Ace, she didn't have to do it that well."
"Maybe so, but remember, Angie had a home with parents and no criminal life. We had it completely opposite. She was raised understanding she had to work her way for everything. Also, she believes in getting the job done right, and if that requires doing it more than once, so be it. You know she will not use her powers to cook, clean, shop for groceries, or the like. Angie is a believer of hard work and dedication, and she's about five years older than you are."
Cosmo suddenly realized what he did. "Aw, man," he groaned as he put his fingers through his red hair. "I totally forgot. Angie lived a normal life, and we didn't. How could I've been so stupid?"
"This wasn't a case of stupidity, Cosmo. It's just that you have to be careful about what you say sometimes. The old saying goes, 'Actions speak louder than words.' That may be true, but words can hurt someone if directed the wrong way."
"I'd better apologize to her quick." The experienced apprentice quickly went to her room.
He could easily hear her crying. "I feel so dumb," he mumbled angrily. He then knocked on the door. "Angie, it's Cosmo. Can I come in, please?"
In the room, Angie looked at the door. "Of course you can. Come in."
As soon as the door opened, Cosmo came up to her and embraced her in a loving hug. "Angie, I'm sorry. I completely forgot about how you were raised. You lived in a normal home, and we didn't. I shouldn't have said those bad things, like calling you a 'clean freak.'"
"I'm to blame, too, Cosmo. I shouldn't have snapped at you so angrily the way I did. I'll understand if you want me to go and—"
"Whoa, hold it!" he exclaimed when he quickly released the hug and stared at her. "Angie, we had an argument. That's normal among friends. I mean, didn't you and Ashley have disagreements when you were growing up?"
"Yeah, but when we didn't agree about something, we would sit down and talk about the problem calmly, not get into a shouting match. I'm sorry, Cosmo, but lately, it seems I've been under a lot of stress or something. It's affecting a lot of what I do, including my cooking."
"Aw, you don't mean that."
"Cosmo, didn't you notice how I burned the pork chops on Monday night? I did those too well done. And then the green peas weren't even done Tuesday for lunch, either. The magical practices haven't gone too well for the last few weeks, either. I mean, I know my powers are reverting back to normal after the planetary alignment, but lately, I'm being bothered by something, but it's not guilt. I just can't put my finger on it right now."
"Hey, ya know we're here for ya."
"Cosmo's right," said Ace, entering the room. "Even the best of friends can have disagreements. You should have seen one we got into once."
"Yeah. I walked into the computer room wondering what Ace was doing, and all he said was, 'I'm checking out a criminal file, but it's nothing that concerns you,' or somewhere in that department."
Ace nodded and added, "Right. Then we had a little fallout of our own and Cosmo took off to cool off. Of course, I didn't realize Cosmo would end up taking off with another criminal for a while."
Angie noticed her kindred brother's face going down in shame. "Ace, don't do this to yourself. Remember, what happened in the past needs to stay where it belongs, in the past. Don't worry about what happened then; you can't change that. I understand, believe me."
"Thanks, Angie. When you had all that guilt inside you for so long, it severely affected your powers during the planetary alignment. In a way, I learned to let go of my own guilt because of you. The alignment really has changed all of us, and much of that is for the better now."
"Yeah," agreed Cosmo. "We understand each other and ourselves a lot better now."
The female magician smiled. "I carried so much pain in my heart and just couldn't let go of those feelings of self-hatred. It's so hard to believe my guilt caused my powers to spiral out of control. At least now I understand my inner being, and I know there are things I can't control."
Ace then noticed the clock in the corner of her room. "All the cleaning's left me really tired. I'm gonna call it a night."
"Sure thing," Angie said happily. "I'm tired out, too."
Cosmo nodded in concurrence. "A good night's sleep oughtta help. 'Night."
Ace and Cosmo left Angie's room and prepared for bed themselves.
In his room, Ace could not help worry about his kindred sister. "Angie has been under a lot of stress lately, but I sense no guilt within her soul. What could be bothering her?"
:Is something the matter, Magician?: sounded a female voice in Ace's mind, a voice which he knew very well.
He closed his eyes and reached out to the one who called him. Soon he could see a silver falcon perched along the top of the House Sanctuary. Marshall, hello. I guess you can tell something isn't quite right here.
:Yes, I can. Did something happen to Angie tonight? I felt something bad from her.:
Angie's been under pressure lately, and tonight, it finally exploded. She became angry with Cosmo about the kitchen floor being mopped too well.
:Are you serious!?: the shifter asked in shock. :Angie actually went off on weasel-boy?:
I'm afraid so. She didn't mean to do it, but Cosmo did say some things to her which caused her to become very upset.
:Like calling her a "clean freak"?:
Ah, you know about that part. Cosmo neglected to remember the manner to which Angie had been raised: the principle of hard work over using a magical shortcut. Angie became very angry with him because he teased her about that principle. Thankfully, they both apologized to each other for what happened. Angie thought we would make her leave, though. Apparently she's never gotten into a shouting match with a friend.
:Did you tell her about arguments among friends being okay?:
Yes, I did. I think she understands that, but she's still upset for being so infuriated with a close friend. I don't know what to do right now to help her.
:I wish I could help, Ace, but I'm not that good when it comes to giving advice. Maybe Khenta could help out, but you'll have to catch her before she leaves for the tribal lands next weekend. It's about time for her annual trip.:
Ace suddenly realized his shifter friend may have given him the answer to the problem. Marshall, you're a genius! A trip to the tribal lands is exactly what Angie needs to figure out why she's been so stressed. Knowing her love of learning, she'd jump at this kind of opportunity. Is there any way you can get in touch with Khenta and ask her if Angie can come along for a few days?
:I can't make any promises, but I'll certainly let her know what's going on. In fact, don't be surprised if she already knows, considering how close she is to Angie.:
Thanks, Marshall. I know this will be a big help for her, if this plan comes through.
:Don't worry, Ace. I'll talk to her as soon as possible. I better let you get some sleep. Sleep well, Magician.:
I will. Pleasant dreams to you, Marshall.
Ace then went into his bed and fell asleep quickly, his mind staying in contact with Angie to make sure she was all right.

Later during the night, Angie found herself unable to sleep. She did not have any bad dreams since letting go of the guilty feelings she held in her heart more than a month earlier, but she still felt bad about being angry with Cosmo. "I still can't believe what I did to him," she said to herself sadly.
Just then, the top drawer of the dresser opened all by itself! Suddenly, what looked like a piece of wood began to float up and towards the young magician.
Angie was surprised to see the object, especially when she recognized some certain markings. "I don't believe it," she whispered. "I never thought I would see this again."
The item then floated into her hands as her telemetric powers came to life once more, but not in a bad "flare," like she would have in certain situations. "All the memories," she said softly. "The special memories it holds. I feel it coming to me once more."
She soon held the item close to her mouth and began to blow into the object, which soon let out a harmonious sound all around her. She played the musical instrument like she had done so for a lifetime.
In his room, Ace could easily hear the beautiful music and quickly awakened. "It's too clear to be a mini-disc." He then closed his eyes and reached out to his kindred sister in magic. "It's Angie. I didn't know she could play the Native American flute so well. I can also feel the music, every note, touch her heart. There is something special about that flute."
He then walked to her room and listened to the music as the door opened. He listened intently to the music as he remembered hearing Marshall and fellow shifter Matt Anders do the same thing with their trumpets nearly two years earlier when he found Marshall on the East Coast. It was there when Angie had her first encounter with the group of people known as shifters.
Angie had a hard time believing in the existence of shifters at first, but she soon came to understand who they were and what they were able to do. She felt close to Marshall but much closer to Khentura Fire Eagle, the Phoenix. Khenta had been there to help Angie, her aunt Rita Wisland, and their friend Lieutenant Daria Weinke when Rita's abusive boyfriend tried to harm all of them in Des Moines. Khenta could understand Angie's real feelings at times, even when Angie did not want to believe them.
At the moment, though, Angie played for another minute before finally completing the piece.
Ace applauded her performance. "You play so beautifully. Why didn't you tell us you could play the Native American flute?"
Facing her friend, the female magician answered, "Nobody asked."
The Magician laughed heartily at the comment. "It's obvious there's more to that flute. Tell me, how did you come across it?"
"Well, the story of this flute started one day in junior high school."

It was a rainy day in 8th Grade American History class at Sutherland Junior High School in Mason City.
The class had someone come in to explain Native American culture, particularly in the Midwest, where she lived.
They were introduced to someone named John Whitefeather, a tribal elder on a reservation about 70 miles west of Mason City.
Whereas most of the class found him to be extremely boring, Angie herself found his culture to be enthralling. She absorbed every word he said, just another part of her incredible love of learning.
Mrs. Jackson the teacher noticed everyone else not paying much attention but then saw Angie. She's taking in everything. Angie seems to be very interested in the Native American heritage. Ah, if only the rest of the class had her enthusiasm.
With about 15 minutes left in the class period, Mr. Whitefeather took out a uniquely styled flute and started playing it.
As most students became annoyed by the sound, Angie closed her eyes and began listening intently to the music. Breathing deeply, she was able to tune out the noise of the other students. I don't know how, she thought, but I can feel every note…touching my heart, my soul. I feel so warm and comforted by the music.
Mrs. Jackson also viewed the young lady's behavior. "She's not sleeping; she's taking in the music like a sponge. I wonder if I can try something with her tomorrow." The teacher started to get an interesting idea.
The next day, after class had ended, Mrs. Jackson stopped Angie before she left.
"Oh, um, I hope you didn't think I was falling asleep yesterday."
"Angie, you're a gifted student. I already knew you didn't fall asleep when Mr. Whitefeather played his flute. You were listening so closely to the music you were able to tune everything else out."
"I can still hear the music, too. I know, it's crazy."
"Are you kidding? I could tell you were feeling the music, so I've come up with an idea. Native American History Week is two weeks away. How would you like to learn to play the flute as an extra credit project?"
Angie was pleasantly surprised. "You'd…let me try to learn how to play it? I don't have a flute, though."
"That is quite understandable," said a gentleman who entered the room. "I will let you borrow this one."
"Mr. Whitefeather?"
"Yes, young lady. I am going to teach you how to play this flute, as we are going to perform together in front of the school on the last day of Native American History Week."
She suddenly became more nervous. "I don't understand, though. Why are you choosing me?"
He came up to her and held her shoulders. "As your teacher has stated, you are a truly gifted student. You have not only an open mind but also an open heart. Very few people in this society have both, no offense to you, Mrs. Jackson."
"Of course not," the teacher stated. "A lot of people don't understand or even care about other cultures. Angie, will you take this project?"
"Mrs. Jackson, Mr. Whitefeather, I consider this an honor. I would love to learn how to play the flute."
"Good," the gentleman said with a smile. "We'll begin practice after school at your house, if that will be all right with your parents."
"I already contacted her parents, and they said you're more than welcome at their house. They also wanted to invite you to dinner."
"Very well, Mrs. Jackson. Angie, I look forward to meeting your parents and teaching you the ways of the Native American flute." He then left the room.
Looking at her watch, Angie realized she was behind schedule. "Oh, dear. I'd better go before I'm late for my next class."
"I'll write a pass. Don't worry." The teacher gave her the pass and let her go.
That afternoon, as they started practice, Mr. Whitefeather gave her the flute he had shown her earlier, a flute which had been a part of his family for at least four generations.
Angie promised to take good care of the flute because it was a delicate piece of someone's heritage, not a marching band flute.
From the first day she started practicing, she quickly caught on to the sound of the music. She had no trouble blowing through the flute and regularly maintained it so she could be ready to perform in front of the school.
Two weeks later, on the final day of practice, Angie performed solo as Mr. Whitefeather watched in amazement.
After she had finished, he smiled at the eager student. "You've done it, Angie. You'll be ready to perform with me in front of the whole school tomorrow."
"Thank you, Mr. Whitefeather. I've had a lot of fun learning how to play, but I feel like I'm living what you do every day on your reservation. I can't wait for tomorrow."
The next day, the students were expecting an assembly but really had no idea what was about to happen.
"Someone in this class will perform in front of the whole school," said Mrs. Jackson.
Most of the class was very surprised, especially Bobby Riggins, the bully. "Only a loser would perform in front of the school for such a boring thing."
Angie acted completely innocent. "Wow. Whoever gets to perform must know what he or she is doing and has probably put in a lot of practice time for this. Of course, I don't know who's doing it, either."
When it was time for the assembly, all the students and faculty gathered in the auditorium.
However, Mrs. Jackson's students noticed one person missing.
"Hey," said fellow student Rhonda Whittington, "where's Angie? I thought she was sitting with us." She then suddenly noticed two extra visitors near the front row. "Say, aren't Angie's parents sitting over there? What gives?"
Then, as the lights dimmed and the spotlight went up on the stage, Mrs. Jackson herself came up to the microphone. "Fellow students and faculty, it gives me great pleasure to present this special musical performance as the finale to Native American History Week. To perform on the flute today are Mr. John Whitefeather and Sutherland Junior High's very own Miss Angela Jacobs."
Rhonda gasped in complete shock. "No way! Angie's going to play the flute with Mr. Whitefeather? This oughtta be good."
As she and Mr. Whitefeather played the flutes, the harmony reverberated throughout the auditorium, and many people were surprised at just how beautiful the music really sounded.
Bobby, on the other hand, was not only annoyed but also very furious. "That loser! Why does she get to do all this stuff for? I'm gonna find a way to put her in her place."
The two performed seven pieces for about an hour, and like before, Angie felt every note in her heart.
At the end of their show, almost everyone gave them a standing ovation.
However, Bobby saw this as a chance to get even with Angie. If I break that flute, she'll never be able to play it again.
As school let out for the weekend, Angie walked by Mrs. Jackson's classroom.
The teacher noted how well she had done. "Angie, I'm so proud of you. You can bet you're going to get that A+ for sure."
"Thank you," the student responded delightfully. "I loved practicing and playing the flute."
Suddenly, Bobby came up behind her and took the flute from her backpack. "He he he! Let's see you play this when it's broken!" He then snapped the flute in half on his knee, dropped it on the floor and took off running as fast as he could.
Mrs. Jackson yelled, "Someone stop that student!"
Another teacher heard her shout and caught Bobby. Holding him was a struggle because he tried to fight his way free.
In all the madness, Angie knelt down to where the flute was and felt heartbroken.
Just then, Mr. Whitefeather came up and noticed what had happened. "Mrs. Jackson, the flute. How—"
"I'm afraid Bobby has something to do with this. Can you keep Angie comforted while I have a stern talk with Mr. Riggins?"
"Of course."
As Bobby was carried into the classroom, Angie noticed her friend. "Oh, no. Mr. Whitefeather, I'm so sorry. I was about to give you the flute back when Bobby…it's all my fault."
He held her in a tight hug. "No, Angie, this is not your fault. Some people don't understand about other cultures, and a few even make fun of cultures different from their own. You are not to blame for the flute being broken. I'm not angry with you, but you shouldn't be angry with yourself. You did a great job in taking care of the flute, but I guess Bobby became embittered and jealous of you and your love of learning."
In the room, Mrs. Jackson easily vented her anger at the troublesome student. "Bobby, what in the world were you thinking, taking that flute and breaking it?"
"Aw, come on," he said smirking. "That flute isn't worth anything."
After she turned away to sigh, she quickly faced him and snapped, "That's your biggest problem! You think everything has to have a dollar value. That flute was in Mr. Whitefeather's family for generations, and you have the absolute nerve to take it and then break it. That flute cannot be replaced! You are going to receive three days of in-school suspension for destruction of personal property, and you are going to apologize to Mr. Whitefeather, who's standing outside the door right now trying to comfort Angie. If you don't, you'll receive another day. It's your choice, Bobby."
After the bully came out the door and said he was sorry for doing what he did, the elderly gentleman allowed Angie to keep the flute.

"When I came home from school, Mom and Dad said they were notified by Mrs. Jackson about what had happened. They understood how special the flute really was to me, since I was able to learn a whole other culture."
"I see," said Ace, listening intently. "But if that's the same flute, how did it come back together again?"
"Well, that night, I felt very sad because of the situation with the flute. In my sleep I kept whispering and wishing for a way to fix the flute. I can't explain how, but I think the Magic Force at the time knew of the pain in my heart. When I awakened the next morning, the flute had been completely repaired! I thought it was Mom and Dad trying to help, but all the markings matched up. I knew it was the exact same flute, not a substituted one."
"How interesting. Apparently the Magic Force itself sensed your sadness and wanted to put the flute back together."
"That's probably what happened," Angie said, feeling convinced. "I gave the fixed flute back to Mr. Whitefeather the next day. When I told him the about the flute being restored, all he said was, 'There are spirits who are able to tell when someone is feeling sad. Whatever spirit was with you last night truly wanted to help you mend the flute.' I'm guessing that spirit was really the Magic Force inside me. Of course, I didn't know what it was back then."
"Okay, so you gave the flute back to Mr. Whitefeather. How did you get it back again?"
"It was a couple of years later, when I was in 10th grade. He and I kept pretty good contact for a while. I even got to spend a whole summer on the reservation, which was a wonderful learning experience. Then, one day, when I came home from school, I received a package in the mail. In the package were the exact same flute and a letter from his granddaughter Keely."
"What did the letter say?"
Angie put her face down and sadly answered, "It said his spirit had moved on into the other world."
"Meaning…he passed away."
"Exactly. Keely also wanted me to know the flute was meant for me because of how appreciative I had been about their culture and heritage. As a result, the flute became mine. I still remember what I did that night, too…"

She had so much trouble sleeping that night because she did lose a special friend in Mr. Whitefeather.
However, something in her heart told her to go to the drawer and get the flute given to her after his death.
Coming to the drawer, though, it mysteriously opened by itself! Then, the flute started floating in the air and soon landed softly in her hands.
"Hmm, must be whatever I have inside me," she concluded in a whisper.
The second she put the mouthpiece close to her, she could feel the music coming to her and immediately started playing.
In their room, her parents heard the beautiful music playing.
"Robert, do you hear—"
"Yes, I do, honey. It's Angie's way of grieving the loss of a friend. Let's go to her room and listen to the rest of the music."
They walked over to their daughter's room and listened to the music as tears fell from her eyes.
When she finished after about three minutes, Nancy calmly said, "That was beautiful, Angie."
She gasped in surprise. "Mom, Dad." After drying her eyes quickly she added, "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."
Robert came up and gave her a hug. "Are you kidding? I'm glad you were playing the music. You've found your own way to deal with the loss of your friend. That music moved you from the moment you first heard it two years ago. Mr. Whitefeather may be physically gone, but he lives on in your heart."

Holding the flute close to her heart, Angie started to cry again. "I'll never forget Mr. Whitefeather. He was a really good friend."
Ace held her in a warm embrace. "It's okay. The music helped you express your grief, and it seems to be helping you now."
**I agree with him, Angie,** said a new female voice in Angie's mind.
Khenta, she thought calmly. It's good to hear from you again, especially after the help you gave my aunt and me back in Des Moines.
**Marshall had a talk with Ace earlier and has told me about your being under a lot of stress and pressure, and your getting upset with Cosmo. She asked if you could come with me to the tribal lands next week when I start my annual trip. I believe a trip there will help you both physically and spiritually. Could you bring your flute as well? You surprised me with your beautiful playing, and I would love to see more surprised faces, including Michael Raven's.**
You could hear it? I—never mind. I forgot.
**That's okay, Angie, I understand. Anyway, let's meet in the Magic Express tomorrow morning and plan the trip. Is that all right?**
Perfectly. How does 9 a.m. sound?
**That will work. I'll see you at 9 tomorrow morning.**
Okay. Good night, Khenta.
Ace sensed the conversation between them. "So, you do want to go to the tribal lands."
"Yeah. Maybe the trip could be relaxing for me. Um, you don't mind, do you?"
"Angie, of course not. You need a little vacation away from the Express and Electro City. Something like this will help you a lot."
"Wait a minute. There's a show on Monday of that week. What about that?"
"I'll have Angel make a hologram of you for the whole show. It'll be fine, I promise."
"Thanks, Ace. Maybe a few days away would help, not to say I want to leave here permanently."
"I know. Your home is here, but right now you need some kind of way to relax and take a little vacation." Besides, I'll be right here if you need me for anything.
Thanks, kindred brother. I just hope I can figure out what's causing me to become so tense.
"I know how you feel. Sometimes it's difficult to know why someone has stress and anxiety. Think you'll be okay now?"
"Yeah. I think I can get back to sleep. Good night, Ace."
"Good night, kindred sister." He then turned off the lights and left her room.
Returning to his room, he soon heard Marshall's voice in his mind. :So, Angie is under a lot of stress.:
Yes, I'm afraid she is. However, that trip she's going to take with Khenta next weekend should do her some good.
:I hope so, Ace. Angie is lucky to have so many understanding friends around her.:
Now wait a minute, Marshall. You have understanding friends, too. I know, I know. You're still trying to forgive yourself for what you almost did to me at the Magelight. I already forgave you.
:Forgiving is not very simple, and forgetting is just as difficult.:
I sure hope Khenta can be helpful to Angie. By the way, do you know if Michael is going to be out there?
:As a matter of fact, he's already out there now with his older brother Victor. Why do you ask?:
I'm a little concerned. Angie has never had to deal with Michael's practical-joke nature before.
:Who wouldn't be concerned, since he is a prankster and a trickster. There are the times, though, when you can see just how good Michael is, like when he helped with my Healing.:
With any luck, maybe he'll keep his pranks to a minimum.
:Hopefully so, Magician. Well, I need to get some sleep myself. Good night.:
Good night, Marshall, and thanks.
Ace then went to bed and slept soundly for the remainder of the night.

The next morning, Khenta showed up at the Express at exactly 9 a.m. and discussed the vacation plans with Angie.
"Okay," Khenta started, "we'll leave next Saturday morning at 6:00. This way, we'll reach the tribal lands by 10. Will you need to stop for breakfast or anything?"
"No, probably not. What I'll probably do is eat some toast and eggs for breakfast, and then pack some fruit to eat along the way. This way I shouldn't get too hungry on the way there. Any worries about gas for your car?"
"No. I'll have the tank fully loaded just before we leave, so things should work out fine. Oh, and I need to warn you. Michael Raven's going to be out there."
"Warn me about Michael? Why?"
"He has a reputation as a practical joker, and he can play some really mean tricks at times. I just want to let you know that, since he does tend to act more like a child."
"I think I understand, Khenta. So it's settled. I'll pack my things on Friday night. Then, you'll arrive at 5:45 Saturday morning to help me load my stuff into your car. I'll try not to take too much on the trip, but you did say bring the flute, so I will. Plan sound all right?"
"Perfect. I'll see you next Saturday morning, then. I need to head over to the Council meeting today concerning matters with some newly discovered shifters."
"Sure thing. See you later."
Khenta then left the Express and took off in her car.
Ace came into the living room. "So, the plans are practically set?"
"That's right. However, there is one little worry I still have."
"The show on Monday while you're away. I told you I'll have Angel set up a hologram."
"What about Paparazzo? What about his tactics? I mean—"
Relax, kindred sister. It's going to be all right. We'll miss your cooking for a little while, but Cosmo and I can manage. If Paparazzo tries anything, we'll slow him down without giving away anything. I promise it'll be fine.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I need to stop worrying over nothing. I can't wait for next Saturday for this. Um, how long am I going to be there?"
"As long as you need to in order to help you cope with whatever is causing your stress. I'm not trying to drive you away or—"
"I know that, Ace. I hope it won't be more than a week's time, but maybe one week can do a world of difference."

Angie has now made her plans to take a much-needed vacation to the tribal lands to get to the source of her stress. With no idea what to expect, she is anxious to leave with Khenta. To find out what happens next, stay tuned for Part 2 of "Spirit Dreams," coming soon!