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Chapter Fourteen
"The Great Spirits"
When Peter opened his eyes a few days later, he was relieved to see Kermit and Celeste beside his bed. "Is everyone okay?" he rasped, his voice dry.
"Everyone except you, and I think you're going to make it now. Though, I had my doubts for a while," Celeste said with a tired voice. "You've been out for three days."
Peter's mouth dropped open as he tried to add up the number of days he had been unconscious in the past week.
"You were having some pretty strange dreams over the days, kid," Kermit said.
Peter started to sit up, but fell back to the bed and groaned. "That will teach you not to move so fast," Ansel said.
"Now you tell me," Peter groaned, going silent until he remembered his dreams again. "The dreams, they were strange, Kermit. Really strange. Like I was in another place, another world, another...something."
"What do you mean, Peter?" Celeste asked as she handed him a glass of water. Peter caught a worried exchange between her and Ansel.
"Thanks, my mouth is so dry," he said, taking long sips and sighing with relief.
He saw the others waiting for him to explain further about his dreams and handed the cup back to Celeste.
"There were drums beating, constantly beating, and shamans chanting in the background, using burning sage, and I saw medicine bags, lances, and smoking pipes like Grandfather Whitehorse had, but everything was huge. I felt like I was the size of a fly. And these mighty voices were debating if I should live or not..."
"Mighty voices? Did they mention any names?" Ansel pushed closer.
"Wolf, Bear, Badger, Forest spirits. I can't remember any more than that. I guess they decided I should live because I'm awake."
"But not exactly up to kicking ass yet," Kermit smirked.
Peter glanced over at Ansel and Celeste who stood motionless, without a word.
"What? What is it?" Peter asked, concerned about whatever had them so stunned.
"You were with the Great Spirits, boy," Ansel said finally.
Peter chuckled at the thought. "The Great Spirits, right. You don't mean 'the' Great Spirits?"
"Don't joke, Peter. Never joke about the spirits. You were given life by the Great Ones. It is not a gift to be taken lightly."
Peter stared at them, seeing only reverence and sincerity, and then glanced over to Kermit who shrugged. The silence was broken by Tommy who came running into the room when he saw that Peter was awake.
"Whoa, easy, sport, I'm not quite up to wrestling yet," Peter said softly.
Tommy stopped at Peter's side and put his hand to Peter's heart. The boy's mouth dropped open with awe.
Peter sighed and his eyes closed. "I think I'm gonna sleep some more..."
The group left the room without another sound.
oOoOoOoOo
After a few days with no sign of trouble, everyone agreed it would be safe to venture outside for exercise and patrols as long as they stayed close to the cabin. Kermit noticed how happy Ansel and Celeste were to see Tommy perking up with the return to the familiar safety of the cabin.
And Kermit was amused by the interactions between Tommy and Peter, almost as if they were long-lost brothers now reunited. There was no denying the bond between the two, because they rarely left each other's side. Peter was still moving slowly, but his fever was gone and he was eating like a horse again. His wounds were healing quickly. It almost seemed like being with Tommy actually sped up Peter's recovery time.
Meanwhile, Kermit and Ansel had discovered they were also kindred spirits, always on constant alert, spending their free time talking about war stories and going over the property's defensive and offensive capabilities, incorporating a few of Kermit's ideas and equipment he'd brought with him into Ansel's present defense systems.
"Tell me, Ansel, did you choose this place because it provided a view of anyone approaching by road? So you can be ready to activate your booby-traps? And then run to one of your hiding places, fully stocked with supplies?"
Ansel chuckled, and then spit out the juice from his chewing tobacco. "You think I might have overdone it a smidgen?"
Kermit smirked. "I just admire a man who is prepared for any and all events."
"I set up most of the booby-traps and supplied hiding spots when Cel and little Tommy came up here for protection."
"They know where the booby-traps and mini-safe houses are located?" Kermit asked with his hands warmly residing in the pockets of his parka.
"Sure as shooting, they know. I've tested them on it several times."
"Mind showing me and Peter where they are? I'd just hate to blow myself up by accident."
Ansel chuckled to himself. "Get Peter and Tommy and I'll take you on the grand tour."
Kermit zipped up his parka and put on his gloves as he stepped onto the porch where Peter and Tommy were involved in some type of carving project.
"Come on, guys, Uncle Ansel is going to show us where he has hidden his fun toys and hideouts."
Tommy jumped to his feet, pulling on Peter's arm in excited anticipation.
"Okay, okay, sport, I'm coming. Geez, give a guy a break. I need my heavier coat and so do you. The temperature seems to be dropping lower each day," he said to Kermit as Tommy ran for their jackets.
"Frankly, I'm hoping for warmer temps, not just for comfort, but so that it will snow. Easier to spot tracks of unwanted visitors that way," Ansel told Kermit.
By then, Tommy was back wearing his other jacket and carrying Peter's. "Guess it's time for the tour. Kermit, lead on," Peter muttered as he retrieved his gloves from his pocket.
After handing Peter his jacket, Tommy gave Peter his cap. "Oh, you think I need this, sport?"
Tommy nodded as he pointed to the cap he was already wearing.
"I don't know, Peter, the bandage looks so cute," Kermit quipped.
"Har-har-har. Well, something on my head in this cold isn't such a bad idea," he said tapping Tommy on the chin.
Tommy began climbing all over Ansel as Kermit stopped beside them.
Peter paused. "Oops, I want my sun glasses. It's too bright out here."
"Move it, Peter, or we'll leave you behind," Kermit growled.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a moment."
Peter stepped into the house and found Celeste peeking out a window and chuckling at her young nephew's return to normal activities. She glanced to Peter. "What are you men folk preparing to do?"
Peter said as he grabbed his sunglasses. "Ansel's going to show where the booby-traps and hidden hideouts are."
"I swear Kermit and Ansel are literally feeding each other's paranoia. It's almost too frightening to watch."
Peter chuckled. "Huh, I was just thinking I've never seen Kermit happier."
Celeste gave him a withering stare, "You people are just plain sick," she said in a huff and returned to the kitchen to finish dinner.
Looking over at Kermit and Ansel, waiting for him to return, he murmured softly, "Oh, yeah."
oOoOoOoOo
After the tour, Ansel and Kermit went off plotting, leaving Peter and Tommy alone in the living room while Celeste was finishing up dinner.
Tommy looked at Peter long and hard and put his hand to Peter's forehead. "Yep, I've got a headache and my side hurts too. Maybe we did a little too much today."
Peter glanced over to two tall bookshelves filled with hundreds of books. Most of them were old and yellowed with age, but there were some interesting titles. Tommy got up and pulled out a small book, gesturing to Peter to follow him back to the sofa.
Looking at the title, Peter glanced down at Tommy in surprise. It was entitled, "The Spirits of the Forest". The subject intrigued Peter, especially since Tommy was the one to pull it out. The pages were well worn, as if the book had been thumbed through several times.
"You like this book, sport?" Peter asked, watching Tommy's head bob up and down with enthusiasm.
Peter found out in the first few pages that the story was based on a true accounting of an anthropologist's attempts to gather information on a local Sioux Indian's tribal legend of the Spirit of the Forest. It was written in the 1920's. The pages were full of illustrations. That was probably the part Tommy liked the best. Peter's headache kept him from getting too excited about the book, but for Tommy's sake, he'd play along.
Peter started to read aloud when Celeste limped in, wiping her hands on a towel. "Peter, could you yell for Ansel and Kermit? Dinner's almost ready to put on the table."
"Sure. Come on, Tommy, let's go round up the old coots," Peter said as he tweaked Tommy's nose, making the boy laugh out loud.
Celeste's hand went to cover her mouth. Tommy was already out the door when Peter noticed Celeste's unmoving form. "Celeste, what's the matter?"
"He laughed...laughed out loud! The last time I heard that laughter was the night his parents were killed. Oh thank God, maybe he is finally ready to come past that nightmare."
Peter put a hand on her shoulder. "I can tell there's been healing recently. I can almost see it in his heart. Don't be surprised if he reaches out to you with words very soon."
"From your lips to God's ears," she whispered.
Peter started for the door when Ansel, Kermit, and Tommy came to the porch. They paused to pull off their boots and then entered. The group stood beside the fireplace, and Ansel threw another log on the fire.
"What am I smelling?" Kermit asked, obviously hungry.
"Come and see for yourself, Kermit," Celeste said as she began placing the bowls and platters of food on the table. "But not a morsel until all of you go wash up and I do mean properly, not just running your fingers under the facet."
She stared at Tommy with her last comment.
Soon, the male contingent was back and at the table, filling their plates with steaming food. "Celeste, my dear, you are a fantastic cook!" Kermit said with enthusiasm. "Day after day, you never cease to amaze me."
"You just say that because you didn't have to prepare it," Celeste replied with a wide grin.
"Very true, but it doesn't change the fact that this is a meal worthy of the gods."
Peter laughed at Kermit's comments. Geez, he must have been starving, or maybe the higher altitude was getting to him. Whatever the reason, Kermit and the others all had seconds of everything.
Celeste started to pick up the empty bowls and platters when Peter stopped her. "You made this feast. The least I can do is the dishes while you get Tommy ready for bed."
The aunt raised a hand to Peter's stubbled cheek. "You are a godsend, that is for sure and for certain, as my father used to say. Come along, Tommy, it's bath time and then bedtime."
Peter watched from the sidelines as Tommy's demeanor indicated he didn't agree with her. In the end, he lost the contest of wills and Peter started washing. Kermit came in and started to dry the dishes without a word.
"The boy really seems to be taken with you," Kermit said finally.
Peter nodded and took a deep breath before speaking. "I don't understand it myself, but from the very first moment we looked at each other, we became soul mates."
"From a common bond of tragedy?"
Peter dried his hands, taking a break before he started on the pots and pans. "I guess you could say that, but he had no way of knowing about my past until I told him. Maybe he was just looking for someone to use as a substitute father figure..."
"Or?" Kermit queried.
Peter took a pan and dunked into the bubble-filled sink. "Or maybe he has an intuitive way of knowing things, kind of like my father, but much less developed. What is it they say when you lose one sense? The others work harder to make up for the loss. Maybe what Tommy got from his lack of speech was a way to look into people's hearts and know...just know what's inside."
"Yeah, well, you might be right. Something positive is happening with that kid. But, sometimes, you just lose me with all that mystical mumbo-jumbo," Kermit said as he placed his folded towel on the counter, preparing to leave.
"It's saved your life more than once," Peter said softly.
"Yes, it has, and just knowing that fact is enough to drive me batty at times."
Peter chuckled at his friend as he disappeared for other parts of the house, leaving Peter to finish up the last few pans.
oOoOoOoOo
Later on, Peter had taken a chair next to the fireplace and picked up the book Tommy had chosen for them to read. When Ansel entered the living room and saw what he was reading, the old man smiled sadly.
"That was a gift from my brother, Celeste and Connie's father. Tommy likes to look at it, though the words are little too grown up for him to read it. It seems like he enjoys the idea of holding the book close to his heart, appreciative of a gift from a grandfather he never knew. I swear that boy has an old soul."
Peter looked up from the book. "An old soul?"
"The way he acts and reacts remind me of someone much older. It was seeing his parents gunned down that caused him to mature much faster than any person should have to do."
Ansel wiped a hand across his face and yawned, "Time for bed. I guess that will make you the last one awake. Just be sure to turn off the lights when you turn in."
"Sure, no problem, Ansel. Sleep well."
Peter looked at the book again, remembering the tales of the Spirit of the Forest Joey told him while staying with the Whitehorses. Was it a coincidence that Joey would tell him stories of the local mysteries and then that was the very subject of the book Tommy wanted him to read to him? His father always said there were never any coincidences, that everything was a part of life's unfolding mysteries. Peter sighed as he thought of his father, wherever he was, wishing he could give him a hug, along with an apology to Lo Si.
Peter shook his head in disgust. 'Sometimes, I think my mouth will be the death of me...'
He opened the book and began to read. It was fairly dry stuff, so Peter knew he'd be paraphrasing the text to make it more interesting to the boy, and perhaps even adding his own touches to the tale to make it more exciting.
oOoOoOoOo