Author's note:

So, Walt's about to meet someone in that 'other' place. Poor guy, he's had a rough time of it and me thinks it's only going to get rougher! I know, for me, this is a very short chapter. I didn't want to end it here, but it does make a rather good cliffhanger, if I do say so myself...and y'all know how I like my cliffhangers!:) Just a reminder to check out HNYWalt and HNYVic as I've updated both of those, too.

You all have been so patient with me - just hang in there a little longer:). The house is sold as of Oct. 3 and know I just have to clean it out and move...no big deal, right? I keep telling myself that! LOL. Don't worry, I'll be back...:):).

Chapter 12

Tears on my face. Not my own. Vic's voice, telling me something I couldn't understand. I couldn't see her, but I knew where the tears were coming from.

I felt a pain, so deep and sharp in my heart…

I couldn't see anything, but I could feel and it felt like my heart was on fire and then, I remembered…

Owl Man. The One Who Guards the Hanging Road. The drums had called me. I'd followed them. That sonofabitch had hit me with lightning!

"You sure do have a way of pissing people off around here, wasichu."

My first thought was that Owl Man was standing over me, just waiting to finish me off, and while he might laugh, I somehow didn't think he'd laugh quite this way. It would be just a little more nefarious. I struggled to open my eyes; I couldn't.

"His name's actually Marvyn, but you can keep calling him Owl Man if you like."

"Just who the hell are you?" I managed to croak out. I wanted to move, to see, but I just couldn't manage either one. I thought I was done before, but this time?

"Who are you?" the man asked. Then he laughed again.

"I know who you are!" he gleefully answered his own question," You're the wasichu dumb enough to poke not only one bear, but two! Okay, okay, I'll grant you the fact that Marvyn looked like an owl, but you sure did poke Standing Bear and he poked you back!" He laughed, yet again.

"Wasichu, I have to tell you, you're one funny Whiteman! I haven't laughed so hard in years!" Again with the guffaws.

I was gaining a little control of my body. I could blink. Could move, a bit

"I'm so glad that you find this all so amusing," and my voice sounded a bit better, although laced with sarcasm, it was hard to tell.

'Oh, this beats Seinfeld re-runs any day!" and Jesus, could the guy just quit laughing? Okay, I was propped up on an elbow. My eyes were open, but they wouldn't focus. Everything around me was spinning

"Where the hell am I?" I wanted to know.

"Well, I could say that Owl Man knocked you right back in to yesterday…Would you like that?"

"What I'd like is for you to quit with the damn jokes and just tell me where I am!"

"Honest to Me," and he chuckled, "when Owl Man hit you, you flew, wasichu! You flew so far that I'm pretty sure you over-shot Yesterday and landed in Long Ago."

"Will. You. Just. Knock it. Off? Tell me where the hell I am!" I was angry now.

"Just open your eyes and you'll see," came back the light reply.

"They're open! I can't see anything!"

"Open your eyes!" and this time, it was a command, not a quip. And I opened them, surprising myself; I would've sworn they were open before. What I saw was not what I'd been expecting to see.

Gone was the forest and the fog. Gone were the dancers and the drums. Gone was the darkness, the never-ending twilight.

In its place, I saw…

A fire, burning nicely, dug in to a hole in the ground, surrounded by rocks. I saw furs. I was laying on them. Another one covered me. I saw rough poles around me, coming together as I looked up. I saw….I saw Henry's grandfather, sitting cross-legged through the fire, opposite me.

This was Long Ago. This was back when I was a kid, hanging out with Henry and his grandfather, Joseph, in his tipi down by the river. Listening and learning the wisdom and the ways of Henry's Elders, the Cheyenne people. The Lakota, the Sioux and the Arikiras…

"I know we look alike, but I'm not Joseph," the old man told me with a smile.

I was sure I knew this place! I remembered it, all of it!

"But this is – " I began.

"This is what you want it to be. I am who you want me to be…and so it is."

I sat up, the fur puddling around my hips. I looked around me. Looked closely. Turned my attention to the old man. Studied him intently through the firelight.

No, he wasn't Joseph. The eyes were wrong. This man's eyes were deep, dark like bottomless pools, but there was a light in them I just couldn't describe. And while Joseph had certainly been old, this man seemed ancient. Not so much in looks, but in his presence. Again, I couldn't describe it, but I felt it. Ancient and Powerful…

…and probably only about five foot six. Hard to tell with him sitting, but I was sitting, too…and even that way, I towered over him, or probably would've if I hadn't been too weak and sore to sit completely upright.

Oh, shit…that bolt of lightning must've messed my brain up! My chest still hurt, like maybe Horse had decided to tap-dance on it and I felt woozy. I tried to get up anyway.

"Where are you going?" the old man asked mildly.

"Out. Away from here."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Standing Bear is still out there, maybe not looking for you, but definitely looking for trouble and if you cross his path…" the old man shrugged. "Besides, if he sees you, he'll know where I am and I'm not ready for him just yet."

"He's after you?"

"Let's just say he wants to have a little talk with me…about you, among other things."

"I don't understand any of this!" I growled in exasperation.

"Maybe not now, but you will. Come. Sit. You've been through a lot. It was fun for a while, but now you need to rest."

I couldn't have stood much longer even if I'd wanted to, so I sat back on the furs, Indian-style. When in Rome…

"How did I get here?" I asked.

"I brought you here."

"You?" I pointed at him, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice. "You're like what? – one hundred and two years old? Maybe weigh a hundred and twenty soaking wet?"

"Okay, I was watching the show. Marvyn zapped you even though I told him not to, so I made him help me get you here," and he swept a hand across the fire and pointed to a darker spot in the tipi. A pile of furs, I thought, until it moved and then I almost jumped right out of my skin.

It wasn't furs. It was Owl Man – Marvyn, still dressed in his feathers, staring silently at me. No expression. Not even the slightest movement. Still as a bronze statue…

Okay, then. Maybe Marvyn had helped this old guy get me here, but I'd been at that ceremony. I'd been watching it and I hadn't seen this old man anywhere. If he'd told Owl Man not to zap me, he must've been close enough to do that and there hadn't been anyone close to Owl Man.

"Really? Honestly? Just – just stop with the bullshit, okay?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I never saw you there!"

"You've never seen me anywhere, but that doesn't mean I haven't been around. You never saw Marvyn until I pointed him out to you and he's just four feet away from you." Always with that little smile. That 'knowing' smile.

"You're creepin' me out, y'know that?"

"Oh, I know it!" and he laughed again. Yet, Still.

"Well, could you maybe just stop it and give me some straight answers for a change?"

"Could you maybe just chill out and try to relax for a change, wasichu?" He spread his arms wide.

"Everything you want and need is right here for you."

"An old man and a guy dressed as an owl? This is your idea of my wants and needs? Buddy, I don't think we're on the same page here."

"Then let's turn the page, or better yet, let's go back to the beginning of the book and start over."

"Alright, that's it! One moment, I'm thinking I'm dead. The next, I'm sure I'm in some kind of purgatory. I've seen and talked to people that I know are dead and I was told to follow my heart. The drums called me. Brought me through the woods and that guy," I pointed a finger at Owl Man, "he decides to zap me and I wind up here, with a raving lunatic and a guy who thinks he's an owl. Look, why don't you just kill me and get it over with, okay? I cannot take any more of this shit!"

"Why would I want to kill you, wasichu?" and he asked it with a touch of amusement.

"Why do you want to torment me like this?"

"You torment yourself…"

"See? That's the kind of shit I'm talking about! I ask a question and you either answer me with one or get all new-age on me!"

'Why would you even think I had the power to kill you? I'm just a puny old man, right? Marvyn, well, he was just trying to stop you from doing something that wasn't meant for you. It's his job. Off duty, which he is now, he's really pretty harmless. He's more a pacifist than an antagonist. He just takes his job seriously, y'know? Kinda like you…"

Crazy-town. That's where I was now! This old man, he was some kind of…demon, sent to drive me nuts! Apparently, I'd already gone there to even be thinking things like this, but I was only trying to make some sense of it all. Unfortunately, I was stuck with someone who made no sense of anything! A thought hit me. Maybe this was Coyote. I mean, why not? I was stuck in some kind of Indian 'after-life' and I remembered Joseph's stories. Coyote was a trickster, a clown and this guy sure fit the bill.

"What do you know about me?" I asked.

'More than you think you know about me," he countered. "You think I'm Coyote. I could be…but I'm not. You know who I am," and again, yet and still, that smile. That twinkle in his dark eyes. That feeling of Power, Antiquity and now, a great big dose of Mystery, came over me. I felt myself drowning in his eyes. I felt my head spinning and I saw things that I knew I shouldn't have been able to see.

I saw Henry out in the night, on his knees, arms upraised to the sky, praying, yelling, tormented. I saw Cady, pacing in an airport, upset but trying not to let it out. I saw Ruby at her home, lighting a candle and opening her Bible. I saw Branch inside my wrecked truck, holding the flowers I'd bought for Vic, crying. I saw Tracy, burying his face in his hands while he leaned forward in his chair in a waiting room and I knew he blamed himself for what had happened to me.

I saw Vic, wearing one of my shirts, the dark brown one, a sort of flannel, that she liked so much on me. She'd told me once it was just made for petting. She was sitting on a hospital bed, one hand playing with a dreamcatcher, the other pressed against her abdomen. She wasn't crying, but her grief was plain to see. Grief and pain and strength, all jumbled up together to make her even more beautiful than she ever had been. I knew it was about more than just me, but I couldn't see the 'more'. My heart hurt even worse for having seen her.

I saw and I knew…and maybe I should have been awestruck, thunderstruck, dumbstruck, but I wasn't. I was…angry. I felt cold inside. I felt betrayed and so very much more, but none of what I was feeling made me want to drop and seek His favour. I wasn't about to backtrack or grovel. I wasn't going to throw myself on His mercy. Me and God, we had some things to discuss…

"In these politically correct times, I would appreciate it if you'd think of me as The Great Spirit, or just plain Grandfather."

"I'm not an Indian," I reminded him coldly.

"Maybe you're more one than you think you are," he shot back.

"Then why do you keep calling me wasichu?"

"It's just my pet name for you. No bigs."

"And if it offends me?" which it truly didn't.

"Then, in the words of Don Henley, 'get over it'. After all, what's really in a name?"

"You tell me."

"Okay, go ahead, call me 'God'. Just say it," and I did.

"You see, you might hear 'God', but I hear 'Great Spirit', 'Grandfather', 'All Father'. You talk to me, I hear Cheyenne, Lakota, many different dialects from many different tribes. I talk to you and you still hear the same thing. I call you wasichu and that's what you hear, not 'Whiteman'. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Less and less as all this goes on."

"You're angry with me, just as Standing Bear is. You've been angry with me for a long time now. You think I'm responsible for your parents' dying. You think I had some way in that."

"Didn't you?" I demanded. "If you're who I think you are, by whatever name, then aren't you responsible for all life on Earth?"

"I am the creator of all life, but not necessarily responsible for what becomes of those lives. You have a daughter. When she was small and growing, yes, you were responsible for her. You created her. You took care of her. You fed her and provided all that she needed to live and grow, but are you honestly responsible for everything she does? Every little thing? Growing up, there were times she defied you. Times she turned her back on the things you'd taught her and gone out on her own. She exerted her own will and made her own path in the world. Are you responsible for her choices, knowing that you taught her all that you knew, but she chose to learn her own Truths?"

He paused for a moment. Leaned closer to me.

"You are a father, just as I am. You know the ways of a child."

"But I'm not 'all-powerful' or 'all-knowing', the way you're supposed to be. I'm a man. A mere human."

"In your daughter's eyes, through the years, you have been 'all-knowing' and 'all-powerful'. She has sought your approval and your forgiveness, countless times. We're not so different, you and I."

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Me and the Great Spirit, we were 'dad-buddies'.

"Maybe I can show you something that will make this clear to you."

He went to pull something off his tunic. I noticed then what he was wearing. Soft tanned hides made in to clothes. Maybe of a colour once upon a time, but now, faded by the sun and the years. Fringes down the sleeves of his shirt. Beadwork in intricate patterns. The Sacred Circle, the symbol of life. The Four Directions. The eagle feather attached to one of his long, grey braids.

Silver circles attached to the fringes across his shirt. Buffalo hair hanging from those circles. I let my gaze wander quickly around the tipi.

There, a buffalo skull, a bundle of sage smouldering inside of it, and over there, next to the flap that served as a doorway, a staff made from a tree branch, forked at the top, holding another buffalo skull in its cradle. Feathers and bells hung off the staff, tied on with leather thongs.

Wakan Tanka - The Great Spirit. TatankaMani – Walking Buffalo

"And so, you know my name now…"

I drew my eyes back to him, to his hand as it pulled a tuft of buffalo hair from the fringe above his heart.

"This," he said, as he dropped the hair in to the fire, "is the beginning of All Human Life," and as the hair caught fire, it curled up and sent an incredible amount of sparks spinning and dancing around the room. As I watched them swirl up towards the top of the tipi, unreal images filled my mind. Good old Owl Man, he began to sing, not in words, but tones, and…

I saw myself, but I was all men. I was in bed with a woman, who was all women. I couldn't clearly see her face, but I was poised above her. Naked. We both were; we all were. I plunged myself inside of her while all around us, the same act of sex was going on, in various forms. It didn't matter how it was done, just that it was done.

I felt my climax building with each stroke until I just couldn't hold it back any longer. I came and the moment I did, one of those sparks that danced around me where I sat, shot through the darkened room where I saw myself, passed through me and entered the woman beneath me.

Was I seeing the moment of Cady's creation? Was this Martha beneath me? It had to be. She was the only one I'd ever had a child with.

It was over and I saw myself drop down beside her. Watched myself reach out and pull her close to me. Heard my rapid breathing begin to slow down as she cuddled up to me.

"That was…incredible!" she breathed against my neck.

Had Martha ever said anything like that to me? I couldn't recall a time that she ever had. I saw myself pull this woman closer to me, laughing low in my throat, and telling her that it was indeed 'incredible'. I'd never felt anything quite like it.

Like a movie, the shot began to pan back. No more close-ups and I saw the bed we were laying on, the room that bed resided in and it was my cabin. Firelight danced across the walls and the smell of wood smoke and sweet grass filled my head.

This wasn't right! There'd been no cabin back in those days. Sure, it existed, but we didn't live there, not before Cady was born and not until after she was finished high school. And Cady, to the best of my knowledge and as far as I was willing to believe, was concieved in the barn of Martha's parents' place, on a bed of hay and not on a store-bought mattress and box-spring, plunked in to the log bed I'm made myself, just before we moved in to the cabin.

With my mind, I became the cameraman. I wrestled for control of what I was seeing. There was a bit of resistance, but I won and I zoomed back in. Concentrated on the woman beside me. Even before I saw the blonde hair, I knew it was Vic. I'd know that sleek, toned body of hers anywhere…

"Just what the hell are you showing me, old man?" and God he might be, but that didn't give him the right to screw around with my life. He'd already done enough of that, no matter what he said to the contrary, but now, I was sitting across from him and the urge to choke the life, or whatever, out of him was almost overwhelming.

His eyes had widened, in shock? Something. He knew what I was thinking, that's for sure and for once, he wasn't laughing…

…but someone else was…