Natdia 1

By NostalgieMalaak

Notes: another ghost story…because they're so much fun to write

Warnings: none for now

I was thirteen when my parents made the decision that would turn my world upside-down.

At first it may seem like I'm whining about this (after all, moving from one place to another is traumatic for children but rarely life threatening) but maybe you shouldn't judge me so quickly until I've told you my story.

So I was thirteen. I had the best group of friends a girl could ever imagine. We did everything and went everywhere together. They were my best friends, my sisters. And I was being forced to leave them behind.

When I found out I couldn't even bring myself to tell them. I just pretended like the problem would go away, that I would live out my teenage years the way I had always envisioned. But like I said, they were like sisters to me and quickly realized that I was being too quiet for my normal vivacious self.

"Cathy? What's wrong?" Hilde asked. Hilde knew me much too well. Growing up in the house next door she had always been my closest friend, the one I trusted with all my secrets. Even my most dreadful secret, that I was the one who broke my little brother's arm when he was too young to speak and blamed it on the boys down the street Hilde always understood me. And now I was leaving her.

"It's nothing guys," I said with a sigh. The four other girls just looked at each other. They thought I was being dramatic as usual, and maybe I was. Just a little.

"Come on Cathy, spill it!" Sally demanded, tweaking my hair between her fingers. She was always doing stuff like that. It was like she thought she could get away with little-sistering me because she was a whole year older than I was.

"Ya Cathy, tell us or we'll tell Bobby Linden that you have a huge crush on him!" squealed Relena with a wicked look on her face. That got all the girls laughing. I glared back at her but I could tell my chest and neck were breaking out in a blush. They just laughed all the harder.

"I'm moving away." I blurted out suddenly. I wanted to shock them with it, this terrible knowledge, but as soon as I said it I wished I could take it back.

No one was laughing anymore. In fact, they all looked stricken. It wasn't until that moment that it really dawned on me. I was moving away. I was never going to see them ever again.

I can't remember who was the first to start crying, but I'm sure that I was the last to stop. After the tears started it was like there was no end to them. I was crying so hard that all the pink bubble gum-flavored lip gloss I was wearing had come off from me running my tongue over my lips to taste my tears as they spilled down my cheeks and into my mouth. It was the most devastating moment of my young life.

One by one, Sally, Noin, Relena, and finally Hilde gave me a long tearful hug and let me go home to shed some more tears on my pillow. It wasn't the last time I would see them before we left, but anymore it's the last memory I can easily recall of my first and best friends.

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"I don't understand why we have to go at all! I like it here! All my friends are here!"

"Cathy…" my mom said, a warning clear in her tone.

"Cathy, I know this isn't at all what you want to do…but the truth is, well, I was fired from my job," my dad said, bowing his head a little. His expression was so sad and weary that I felt awful for my selfish outburst.

"Oh, daddy…I'm sorry." I was sorry too. I had no idea that anything had even been wrong.

Dad looked at me, a sad affectionate smile playing on his lips. "It's alright honey. Your mother and I didn't want to worry you. But your older now, a teenager, and we thought you should know the truth, that knowing it might make things easier for you."

I nodded dully and stared down at the plate of food in front of me. Suddenly I wasn't very hungry. It was unfair of me, and childish, but I had the sudden urge to scream at my father. It was all his fault that we were leaving! Then I looked across the table at my little brother sitting there. His constantly mournful expression looking even more sad in the low light from the dining room candles. He was probably just as sad as I was about leaving. It had taken him so long to make a friend in school. He was eleven years old and had just recently found someone who would actually talk to him. Even though I didn't really like Trowa's friend Heero, he was good for my brother. No doubt wherever we were moving to would be hard on Trowa.

I never had trouble making friends. I was outgoing and friendly while Trowa was a moody quiet boy. When we were little Trowa and I were each others' best friends. Then I made other friends, moved on to a social understanding or level that he seemed unable to reach. It made my heart ache to look at him and see him staring back at me with such hopelessness. He understood better than anyone else, even my mom to whom he used to cling like a leach, how difficult it would be to start all over again.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I said softly.

My father nodded. His eyes were pinched and if I didn't know better, I would have thought he was angry at me. I thought that maybe it would have been better for him to be angry at me, after all it's natural for parents to get angry at their children once in a while. It terrified me that that anger was directed at himself.

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Tap. Tap. Tap. The soft knocking brought me out of a light sleep and I reached above me for the night lamp above my bed. Switching on the light and throwing back the covers I went to open the door to my room.

Trowa stood outside looking nervous and small in his flannel pajamas.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he said very softly. It sounded like there were tears in his voice.

"What is it Trowa?" I kept my voice pitched low so I wouldn't wake up our parents sleeping just down the hall.

"It's…It's…." He was so clearly upset that I couldn't help but reach out and bring him to me in a hug. He didn't return it, just stood there shivering. I pushed back the sleep-rumpled hair over his face to feel his forehead for fever but he felt fine. At least as far as I could tell. I didn't really know how hot someone was supposed to feel before they were considered sick.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Did you have a bad dream." Ah, that was it. I felt stupid for not asking before. Of course it was a nightmare. Nightmares had always plagued him since he was a baby. I was just surprised that he had come to me instead of our mom.

He seemed to sense this and slowly put his small arms around me.

"I didn't want to wake up Mom and Dad. They're upset about moving and stuff." His voice was muffled against my oversized night shirt.

"That's ok. Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?" He nodded his head a little and I guided him back into my room. We both curled up in my bed, facing away from each other. He seemed more calm after I had pulled the covers over us both.

"I'll keep the nightmares away," I whispered softly, trying to say it like mom always did.

He nodded again and I caught a very quiet "thank you" before my eyes got too heavy and I fell asleep.

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The next few weeks passed in a blur. I don't remember going to school or hanging out with my friends, though I'm sure I did at some point. It was like I suddenly woke up on the day of the move to find all of our furniture gone, packed away into the moving truck. Walking through the halls of what used to be my home on that last day held little or no meaning for me. It was no longer the place where I had grown up. It looked so strange and bare. All the windows were uncovered and the bright walls that still held the faint shadows from where our furniture had stood were glaringly white. Our old house looked ten times bigger than it had before and felt ten times emptier. I was glad when we finally went out the front door for the last time. I didn't want to remember my first home that way.

Outside was a different matter. The tall leafy trees that stood sentinel in our front yard looked the same as ever. The daffodils and snapdragons my mom and I had planted together were growing in the little gardens along the foundations of the house. Running my hand down the familiar handrails of the steps brought tears to my eyes. We were really leaving.

"Say 'bye' to the house," my mom said, nudging Trowa in the back affectionately. Trowa just gave a little half-wave before turning and climbing in the back seat of the van and slamming his headphones down over his ears.

"Bye house," I replied dully. A sad look crossed my mom's face and she turned away as well, giving a little pull on my dad's sleeve. He too said his goodbyes and then headed for his car. I couldn't bear to stand there any longer. Trying not to cry I ran for the passenger's seat of my dad's little two-door sports car and jumped in, refusing to look back and the friendly old house that had sheltered us so well for so many years.

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Looking over the maps I was astonished to note that I had no real conception of where we were going. All mom and dad had mentioned was that our new house was in Wyoming. At the time I had been too busy lamenting over the loss of my friends and home to really give our new destination much thought. All I knew of Wyoming came from watching shows on the Discovery Channel about Yellowstone National Park.

"Do you think we'll be able to go to Yellowstone sometime?" I asked, trying to draw my father out of the funk that had possessed him since leaving town.

"Hmm? Oh, well sure. It's not too far from where we'll be living, so I'm sure we'll be able to get up there lots." I had never really seen my dad so distracted before and certainly never when talking to me. Sulkily I turned back to staring out the window of the car, watching farm country go wizzing by the window.

"So where are we going to live?" I asked, trying not to let my frustration become too apparent in my voice.

"I told you sweetheart. It's in the Grand Teton Mountains. It's just temporary anyway, just a summer gig."

"What are we going to be doing there?" I asked, trying out my sweetest possible little-girl voice. It worked. With a little smile my dad turned and looked at me for the first time that day.

"I've not been very fun to ride with lately, have I?" he asked with a chuckle.

"It's ok dad. I know you're worried."

"If you want you can ride with mom and Trowa for a while…no? Alright then. Well we're actually going to be living near a lodge in the mountains. It's open for tourism during the summer, but not many people actually come up there. Mostly hikers and horse back riders from what I've been told. There's a ranger's station there, so we'll at least have a little company, but mostly it's just going to be the four of us."

"No kids? What about the town we'll be living in? Do you think there'll be a movie theatre?" So far this place sounded horrible.

"Nope, no kids. We won't even be living in a town. We're watching over a large home that belongs to a friend of a friend so to speak. There's the ski lodge and ranger's station a few miles away and that's about it."

"That's it? So what am I supposed to do all summer?" I was all but yelling. I couldn't believe this! What kind of sick joke was the world trying to pull on me? I was supposed to spend an entire summer up in mountains with no one for miles around and nothing to do?

"Cathy calm down," my father said sternly, eyeing me from behind his thick sunglasses, "You'll have lots to do. We'll go hiking a lot, and you could explore the woods around the house. It'll be like an adventure! Maybe we could even get Trowa to go outside for once. He ought to get out in the sun more…"

I wasn't about to make my dad any more angry with me so I kept my thoughts to myself and let him prattle on. I hate adventures. I thought angrily. Especially when there's no one to have them with. Trowa was the only other kid I would be able to interact with and he hardly counted. Trowa didn't even like going outside, much less going on 'adventures.' My dad was crazy if he thought Trowa would miraculously come around and take to enjoying the grand outdoors.

Time passed slowly in the car, as it always seems to. It took us a good four days to reach our destination. As much as I was expecting to hate Wyoming I was enchanted with the plateaus, the sage brush desert, and finally the mountains which I had never seen before. It was all so different but beautiful. And so very quiet. I think that was one of the last things I noticed but an important realization just the same. We were so high up in the desert mountains that the only sounds of life coming from insects, birds, and small animals were harsh sounding and utterly wild. The constant wind rustling through the pine trees was haunting and soothing all at once and my mind had a hard time reconciling the two feelings. The slight aspen trees that twitched and shivered with the smallest puffs of wind were very pretty but in the moonlight looked vaguely skeletal.

We reached our new home for the summer late at night. My dad woke me with a gentle shake and then proceeded to unload our most important luggage from the car. I sluggishly clambered out and went to grab my own bag. Trowa was hauling his backpack along the ground by the straps, stumbling tiredly up to the house. In the extreme darkness of the forest and lack of any and all city lights I could only make out the outline of the place. Even with that though I was stunned. The house was huge! It looked as though the owner had thought to construct a palace up in the middle of the Wyoming wilderness.

I stopped and stared for a full minute until a feeling of uneasyness crept through me. It was so quiet. The wind in the trees and the strange smell of the mountain, like very old dust and pine needles, made me realize just how isolated we were. Beyond my limited vision my sleep-riddled mind imagined creatures lurking in the dark shadows, watching me. Ahead of me I could see Trowa still struggling with his heavy bag. The urge to run up and make sure he was safe was overpowering. I was soon panting up the hill to the front porch of the mansion house in the high elevation, listening to my ear drums pop for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

I had to get to Trowa. Something like desperation and sudden fear knawed at me. Trowa wasn't safe.

"Trowa!" I called out, my voice sounding weak and feeble in the encroaching darkness. He didn't seem to hear me.

"Trowa!" I yelled a little lounder. This time he stopped and turned around, pulling one headphone away from his ear to hear who was shouting at him. Seeing it was only me he turned around, his small shoulders drooping, and continued his way up to the house. All the while my mind screamed at me 'faster!' 'faster!' I couldn't let anything happen to him!

When I finally caught up with him we were at the foot of the steps that led up to a wide wooden porch. I snagged the back of his shirt and pulled him around to face me.

"Don't…ever…do that…again!" I panted in his face.

"Do what?" he asked, a bemused smile flitting over his face.

"Ignore me like that! You…there was something…you could have gotten hurt!" I ground out.

"I'm fine. Gees, you're so weird sometimes." With that he turned and plodded up the steps, a hollow 'thonk' sounding out with each step on the old wooden boards. I quickly followed him up, the sense of dread and desperation that had been so real a few minutes before fading rapidly. I was being stupid. There was nothing here that was going to hurt us.

Having decided this, I nodded smartly to myself and proceeded up the steps. As my foot landed upon the bottom step I shook my head at my own childishness and obvious fear of the dark. I would have to work on that.

It wasn't until I reached to top of the steps that I came out of my own thoughts and noticed something was wrong. Trowa was standing very still in front of the door, barely breathing, both hands latched securely on the door knob as if the skin of his hands had been frozen around the gold metal.

"Trowa? You…." My voice caught in my throat as I came closer and saw the expression on his face. Complete and utter terror.

As I opened my mouth to call for help an icy hand closed around my own.

Tbc…

1 Natdia is Paiute Indian word meaning Ghost Dance

From http/en. wikipedia. org/wiki/GhostDance (no spaces in address)

The Paiute tradition that lead to the Natdia (Ghost Dance) began in the 1870 in the Western Great Basin from the visions of Wodziwob (Gray Hair) concerning earth renewal and the reintroduction of the spirits of ancient Numu (Northern Paiute) ancestors into the contemporary day to help the Numu.

This movement continued with additional revelation to a Paiute known as Wovoka (Woodcutter) during a solar eclipse. Central to the Natdia religion was the dance itself - dancing in a circular pattern continuously - which induced a state of religious ecstasy.

The dance as envisioned by Wovoka: "When you get home you must begin a dance and continue for five days. Dance for four successive nights, and on the last night continue dancing until the morning of the fifth day, when all must bathe in the river and then return to their homes. You must all do this in the same way. ...I want you to dance every six weeks. Make a feast at the dance and have food that everybody may eat." He also told the dancers to remain peaceful, work for the Whites, be truthful, and abstain from alcohol.

The Natdia, it is claimed, brings about renewal of native society and decline in the influence of the Whites. In essence, it is said to heal the earth and to heal all the people of the four worlds, that is, red, black, white, and yellow.

Believers in the Ghost Dance spirituality are convinced that performing the Ghost Dance will eventually reunite them with their ancestors coming by railway from the spirit world. The ancestor spirits, including the spirit of Jesus, are called upon to heal the sick and to help protect Mother Earth. Meanwhile, the world will return to a primordial state of natural beauty, opening up to swallow up all other people (those who do not have a strong spirituality based upon the earth). The performers of the Ghost Dance theoretically will float in safety above with their ancestors, family, and peoples of the world who follow the extensive spirituality.