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!