In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter eleven


“I don’t have a gift for anything except getting into trouble.” I shrugged at Joe Sunne, who sat across from me at our kitchen table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mom grimaced, but I noticed she didn’t contradict me. And when Joe glanced at Mom and back at me, I could tell he felt the awkwardness of talking in front of her, too.

“I sense you are a very perceptive girl. You see things that others don’t. I was the same way when I was your age,” he began.

“My sympathies,” I said. “Go on.”

“Your ability to see things might help White Bird.” Joe set his mug of tea aside and leaned across the table. “I can’t be sure of this, but I believe he is trapped in a vision. If he ingested a drug to enhance his quest—and his vision was interrupted by something traumatic while he was under the influence—he may be trapped in his own mind and unable to find his way back.”

“What?” Mom asked the same time I did, but she wasn’t nearly as shocked.

“This’ll sound strange to both of you. You aren’t familiar with the spiritual beliefs of my people.” He hesitated. “But if you promise to keep an open mind, I’ll explain.”

“Please. I’m very intrigued. And I’ll keep an open mind, Joe,” Mom promised and I nodded.

He took a deep breath and went on.

“I’ve seen this only once before. And it was decades ago. A rattlesnake bit a boy while he was alone on his quest. He nearly died. These things can happen, but the strange part was that he stayed in a coma for weeks. And the doctors had no explanation for his condition. Later when the boy regained consciousness, he remembered that he’d gotten separated from his spirit guide and lost his way. That was bad, but good eventually came of it. When he had grown into a man, this same boy had greater insights into the spirit realm because of what he had survived. White Bird’s condition reminds me of that boy.”

“Spirit guide? Why would a boy need a guide to wake up from a vision quest? Couldn’t he just open his eyes?” I asked.

“Something like what happened to that boy is rare. Maybe what happened to White Bird was part of his test. That’s why I believe we must help him find his way back. And I think you can reach him…as his friend,” Joe explained. “When a boy goes on a vision quest, he is in search of his spirit guide. My people believe that a person needs a guardian for the journey they will take in life. Such a supernatural being is similar to your Christian guardian angel. They give us special prayers and songs and symbols that protect us against evil and help us transition to the next life.”

I decided that White Bird must not have connected with his spirit guide. No guardian angel would have let him cross paths with Heather Madsen.

“White Bird would have fasted and prayed until his guide was revealed,” Joe said. “To whites, this would sound like superstition, but my people believe we must open our minds and hearts to know when the spirits are speaking to us. Like all living things, we’re a part of the earth and the universe. And we are connected to our ancestors, too.”

“You sound like him.” I smiled. “White Bird told me something like that. And he said that he’d chosen his clan. The Dala. He told me that was the bear clan. He’d picked it because the bear was strong and symbolized Mother Earth. And it’s a totem sign for a healer,” I told Joe. “Would the bear have been White Bird’s spirit guide?”

“The clan name is spelled with a D but it’s pronounced Tala,” Joe corrected me. “Our language is nearly forgotten and difficult to learn.”

I’d heard the pronunciation from White Bird. He’d gotten the clan name wrong, too, but without a Native speaker to help him, he probably got lots of stuff wrong, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

White Bird talked a lot about the Euchee. He said that the tribe kept their language pure and did not teach it to outsiders or take on the influences from other cultures. But in the mid 1900s, when Native children were forced into boarding schools to teach them how to be white, the language was all but lost. The Euchee were forced to use English as their main language. But just like White Bird clung to his beliefs without giving in, so did the Euchee tribe. The language exists today, even though it’s spoken by only a few. “And the Dala is a good clan for him.” Joe smiled. “That boy has the spirit of a healer. I felt it in him. But the spirit guide in his quest could have been different. The quest is very personal and private. And only White Bird would know his guide. It would be up to him to share that.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me you knew him the other night?” I asked. “You were keeping his vision quest a secret, huh?”

Mom looked confused, but she went with the flow.

“Yes. I didn’t think it was right to tell,” he said. “It wasn’t my place. And Euchee ceremonies are sacred. They are not spoken of outside the tribe. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I do. And I respect that.” I nodded and smiled. “He would have, too.”

The pieces to the puzzle were falling into place. Now I knew that White Bird had been preparing for his vision quest during the week before Heather died. I was sure of it. And even as close as I thought we were, he might have felt that the secrecy was part of the ritual and an ancient tradition. I breathed a sigh of relief, but another question hit me.

“Tell me about how he’d prepare for his quest. I have to know. Please.”

“I can only guess what he did, but how is that important to you?” Joe asked.

“What are you thinking, Bren?” Mom chimed in.

“Because I know White Bird. He would’ve done his research preparing for his quest. He’d even told me that he needed some space and I wouldn’t see him for a while. I thought he was breaking up with me, but now I don’t think that was it.”

I narrowed my eyes and dug into my memory.

“He had no patience for someone as shallow as Heather Madsen. And she would’ve been a complete distraction from something he wanted more than anything, to become a man with the Euchee tribe.” I turned to Joe. “Even with the Euchee not claiming him, he would’ve gone through the ritual on his own. He wanted it that bad. So tell me what he would’ve done to prepare. Please, I have to know.”

Joe shared as much of the ritual as he could. And as he did, I pictured White Bird in my mind.

He would’ve picked a very secluded and special spot near water to build the sweat lodge for his vision quest. And he’d taken Joe’s knife to cut, strip and sharpen the sapling branches he’d need to frame the lodge. And once he had constructed and shaped the outer shell, he would have used the tarps, blankets and hides he’d “borrowed” from Joe to keep the inside dark and watertight. And the floor on the inside would have been covered with grasses, leaves or wildflowers to make it soft, like the little hut he’d built near the creek.

Once he’d built his sweat lodge, he’d dig a pit outside for the fire he’d need to heat the large stones for steam. The sweating part of the ritual, to cleanse his mind and body. I thought about all he had to do to prepare for one of the biggest events in his life. It would’ve taken him time to build his sweat lodge, fast for days and gather wood and water for the steam, enough to last for his quest.

No wonder he needed space from me.

“That sounds like a lot of work. Amazing,” I said.

“It is. It takes a strong boy to do this, especially by himself and without guidance from an elder.” Joe’s expression grew dark. “And under the influence of peyote or mescaline, his quest would have been very risky.”

Joe told us how White Bird would have stripped off his clothes and remained in the sweat lodge, praying and sitting cross-legged near the steam, fending off hunger and the never-ending heat and his growing hallucinations to pray for his spirit guide to come. It was a grueling ritual that required real commitment and courage…and faith.

White Bird really believed his soul was connected to all living things, past and present. And he believed in the power of his mind and had faith in his senses. His quest was spiritual. Something bigger than he was. I had nothing like that in my life. I didn’t have his passion. I wanted to belong somewhere and got good at complaining about what I didn’t have. But White Bird saw what he wanted and went for it.

“I had no idea he did that,” I whispered.

Although anything Joe told us about what White Bird might have done was pure speculation, it helped me to imagine what was in his head as he prepared to endure the physical test to become a man in his tribe. It made me even more proud of him.

But it also reminded me of our first and only argument. It was the last time that I saw him before I made the call to the sheriff that got him arrested.

Two Years Ago

When White Bird had told me he wanted his space and didn’t tell me why, I was sure he was letting me down easy and that he’d grown tired of hanging with a girl like me. And it hurt worse because he’d told me at his shelter by the creek. I always looked at that spot as our place.

But instead of asking him why he didn’t want to see me anymore, I got mad. Losing my temper had put him on the defensive. It was the only way I could handle the hurt.

“This has something to do with your tribe, doesn’t it? They don’t want you with a white girl.”

“Brenna, that’s not it.”

“I thought I was your tribe. Why do you want to be an Indian when they don’t want you? They never have.” I felt the heat on my face as tears drained down my cheeks, but my misery didn’t come close to matching the pain I saw in his eyes.

“I need to belong, Brenna. It’s important to me. And I want you to respect that. I hope you can.” He turned his back to stuff something in his knapsack. He was packing to leave. I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t let it go.

“I don’t know why you care about a tribe who has been so cruel to you. I wouldn’t want people like that in my life…people who can hurt me. I don’t need that.” I reasoned with him while he grabbed his stuff.

We were very different when it came to needing other people. We both felt the urge to belong somewhere and fit in, but when others made that impossible, that’s where our differences showed. I’d get pissed and ditch them before they rejected me. Lashing out made it my choice, not theirs, even though it still hurt.

But White Bird had a quieter way. He knew what he wanted and patiently focused on getting it, one way or another. He didn’t blame others for what made him miserable. Any changes he made were inside him.

After he’d stashed his things, White Bird slung his rucksack over his shoulder and turned to me one last time.

“I know there’s a bigger picture, Brenna. We belong to the tribe of man first,” he said, without anger. “Our humanity is what we share and it shouldn’t matter what our skin color is or what language we speak. But it makes me feel special to belong to the Euchee. It makes me happy. I thought you had accepted that.”

I thought I had accepted it, too, until I realized that his becoming Euchee might mean I’d be out in the cold. I didn’t belong anywhere. He’d asked me to be his tribe, but that was when he thought he had no one else. Maybe he got a better offer and had changed his mind.

“I don’t see the world the way you do, White Bird. I just see my little corner of it. And I don’t understand why you can’t be satisfied with…that.”

I wanted to ask why he wasn’t satisfied with me—why I wasn’t good enough—but I wasn’t sure I could handle what he might tell me. So I didn’t wait for him to say anything at all. Before I left, I looked into his eyes and saw that I’d hurt him.

I also knew I’d never forget what that felt like.



Even now, I felt a lump welling in my throat when I remembered the hurt I saw in his eyes that day. Of all people I should have understood him. Why didn’t I? He could make me bleed with just a look. He still could. Everything that he felt was in his eyes.

And that made him beautiful.

Without making a big deal about it, White Bird had the courage to stick with what he wanted—what was right for him. He didn’t whine about not belonging anywhere or feel sorry for himself like I did. He took charge of his destiny and made things happen. And he would have done it too if the tragedy of Heather’s death hadn’t happened. Whether Joe and his tribe accepted White Bird for the man he’d become, that didn’t matter. Not to him and not to me.



And I loved him for that. Even gone from my life, he was teaching me.

“I wanted to understand what he’d been doing during the week before Heather died, because he’d been secretive with me. After what you’ve told me, I know his vision quest would have been his whole focus. Nothing else would have mattered.” I fixed my gaze on Joe. “So with all he had going on, why would he kill Heather?”

“What are you saying, Bren?” Mom asked. Joe kept quiet and waited for me to finish.

“How did their paths cross, Mom? Heather wasn’t a nature girl. She wouldn’t have been caught dead in the woods.”

When I heard what I said, I gasped and nearly choked. Mom snorted a tension laugh and Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…say it like that.” I heaved a deep sigh and rolled my eyes before I went on. “Anyway, White Bird was totally into his quest. He would’ve been at his secret location in the woods for days before. How would they get together…him and Heather?”

“But he was found over the body,” Joe said.

“Yeah, by me. And I didn’t see a sweat lodge near the bridge at Cry Baby Creek. That would have stood out. It would’ve reminded me of White Bird.”

“Maybe his lodge is near that bridge,” Joe said, smiling. He finally got my point.

“Maybe it still is.” I grinned.

“What just happened?” Mom was confused. “Will one of you fill me in?”

“Tomorrow, Joe’s gonna take me to look for White Bird’s sweat lodge,” I said. “If it’s still there, like I think it is, we may find proof that could help him.”

“But if you find any real evidence, it won’t be admissible in court unless the police find it as part of their investigation. Some chain of custody thing,” Mom said. When we both stared at her, she shrugged. “What? I watch a lot of cop shows. You pick up this stuff.”

“Your mom is right, but I’m not sure about getting Sheriff Logan involved.” Joe was the first to say the sheriff’s name. It creeped me out.

“Not the sheriff, but maybe there’s someone else. Someone who wasn’t in Shawano when all this went down.” I grinned. “That deputy, Will Tate. I think we can trust him.”

“I’ll call the sheriff’s office on my way home. A call from me wouldn’t alert the sheriff, not like one from you or your mother. I’ll ask the deputy to meet us at the bridge tomorrow morning. I can be very persuasive.”

“I’ll bet.” I smiled. “That’d be great, Joe. Thanks.”

I knew we had a solid first step to help White Bird, but our plan didn’t go far enough. He was trapped in his mind. And even if we could get the police to reopen the investigation into Heather’s murder, that wouldn’t free him from his misery.

“Earlier you said that I could help him. What did you mean by that?” I asked Joe. “Even if we get the cops to reopen the case, he’s still trapped in his head.”

From the look on his face, Joe knew what I was talking about, but Mom was in the dark.

“Brenna, it’s gonna be hard enough to get the sheriff to move on this,” she said. “If the people in this town find out how much you’re involved, things could get uglier. Are you sure you want to chance that?” Mom reached for my hand. By the expression on her face, I knew she wasn’t telling me not to help. She was only concerned for me. “This sounds…risky, especially for someone your age. You’ve already been hurt so much. I’m worried for you, honey.”

“Someone’s got to stand up for him, Mom. He can’t do it the way he is.” I gripped her hand. “Joe came here because he thought it was important. And I do, too. Ever since I turned White Bird in to the sheriff, I haven’t been able to get past it. I’m stuck at fourteen and I can’t move on without dealing with this.”

“It’s just that I’m scared for you, Bren. I want to help, but I don’t know how.”

“I know you do, Mom. But I need you to trust me. For real. Can you do that?”

Mom didn’t answer right away. If she’d nodded too fast or made promises she couldn’t keep, then I would have seen it in her eyes. But when she kept silent and thought about the gravity of what I’d asked, that meant a lot to me.

“I’ll try,” she said. It was the only answer Mom had. And it touched me more than if she’d said yes.

I knew I couldn’t say what I really wanted to tell Joe with Mom around, so I waited for him to leave and walked him to his truck. Mom gave us privacy this time, even though I knew she was peeking out the window. In the moonlight and under the stars, Joe didn’t look as scary as I had remembered him from the other night. I felt comfortable walking with him in silence, just like I used to do with White Bird.

“I want to thank you for coming, Joe.”

“I should be the one thanking you. What happened to that boy has been eating me alive. Guilt can consume you.”

I knew exactly what he meant.

“You walked me out here for a reason. Tell me what you think I should know.” The man didn’t beat around the bush.

“I visited White Bird in that hospital when I first got here. And something…happened.” I chewed on the corner of my lower lip, thinking of how I would explain something I didn’t understand myself.

But Joe made it easy.

“You saw his vision, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” I almost choked. “Yeah, I touched his arm and I got sucked into something really nasty. And I felt how scared he was.”

“You see? I knew you could do this.” Joe grinned and shook his fist in the air. “When I met you the other night, I saw the strength of your gift and I knew.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. There’s more,” I said. “I don’t know if it’s because of me that we connected, or because he’s trying to reach out from some weird dimension.”

I told him about the images I saw in White Bird’s vision, and I shared my continuing nightmares. I even told him about Dr. Ridgeway and what he’d asked me to do.

“The link you share is probably coming from both of you. It’s hard to say. Do you trust the doctor from Red Cliffs?” he asked.

“No, but he’s barred me from seeing him until I cooperate. If I want to see White Bird, I’ve got to go through Ridgeway.”

Joe nodded as he leaned against his truck and stared up at the moon, then said, “I will think about what you’ve told me. And we can talk more tomorrow. If White Bird is reaching out to you, it takes great strength to do that. I’m not sure how long he can keep that up.” He heaved a sigh. “We have to help him…now. And like I said, I sense that you are the only one who can do this thing.”

When Joe first asked me about seeing White Bird’s vision, I was shocked. I didn’t know how he’d make such a leap. And I remembered what he’d said about the gift I had. It took me a moment to make a leap of my own.

“That boy you were telling me about, the one who got separated from his spirit guide. If quests are so private, how did you know about what happened to him decades ago?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “That boy was you.”

Joe only smiled and said, “White Bird picked you as a friend for a reason. And he chose wisely. I’ll call that deputy tomorrow morning. And if he’s agreeable, I’ll pick you up, eight o’clock sharp. We’ll start at the bridge and work our way out, before the heat comes.” Joe climbed into his truck and started the engine.

“I’ll be ready.” I waved as he drove away. And when I turned to head back into the house, I saw the drapes move.

What happened with Joe had taken the sting out of the talk I owed Mom after I’d lied about going to the movies, but I was sure she’d have plenty more to say. I wouldn’t get off that easy. When I got back into the house, she was the first one to speak up.

“I had no idea what you’ve been going through, Brenna. You’ve been trying to help that boy on your own. Guess you thought it was the right thing to do, huh?” After I nodded, she said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mom only knew a fragment of what was happening and that was good enough. The truth would have only hurt her, so I told her what I thought she could handle.

“It was something I had to work out on my own. I still do.”

I couldn’t make up for the past between Mom and me. It was what it was. And I didn’t know what our future would be like, either. All I knew was that I felt different about her this very second. Huddled on the couch where we’d watched home movies the other night, we talked until I got too sleepy to keep my eyes open. I kissed her good-night and went to bed. And although we’d talked about a lot of things, I hadn’t told her about seeing into White Bird’s visions or about my conversation with Dr. Ridgeway.

All of that was mine. It was private and I had to make the decision on what would happen next. I knew that if I told Mom, she’d only want to fix it.

And I couldn’t let her do that.

Hours Later

After Joe’s visit, I welcomed White Bird into my dreams. I wanted to feel close to him and remember the good things that had happened between us. But as they usually did lately, my dreams of him turned into nightmares.

I thrashed under my blankets and woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. I didn’t know where I was at first. The blackness of my room was no different from the empty void I had left behind. It wasn’t until I heard Mom’s voice and saw her come into my room that I realized I was at home.

“Brenna, it’s only a bad dream, sweetheart.” She wiped my forehead with her cool hand and whispered to me. And with my heart pounding real hard and my panting so loud that I couldn’t hear anything else, I strained to listen for her voice. “You’re safe, honey. I’ve got you.”

Mom crawled into bed with me and held me as she whispered, “Shhh. You’re okay, sweetheart. I’m here. I love you so much.”

I don’t know why, but I cried and hugged her as hard as she hugged me. After I calmed down and got my body under control, I heard her say, “You know, Bren. I don’t have to believe in the same things you do, but I do believe in you.”

That was the first time she had said that. It touched me so much that I couldn’t say anything and the tears came stronger. I think Mom cried, too. We held each other and it felt good. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but I think she already knew. I didn’t leave the house to go to the cemetery that night. I fell asleep with Mom holding me, exhausted.

The nightmare never came back. And I think I had Mom to thank for that.