In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter thirteen


Outskirts of Shawano—Late Afternoon

“I’m okay, Mom. We’ll be home soon.”

I ended the call to my mother, knowing I hadn’t told her the truth. I wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. I told her about finding White Bird’s sweat lodge and she was real happy until I gave her the bad news—that none of it mattered. We were back at square one with little to show.

Now I had to watch as strangers tore through the only thing I had left of him. Crime scene cops took what they wanted of his sweat lodge and bagged stuff. But when I saw one guy with a beaded leather pouch in plastic, with a strand of a colorful woven bracelet sticking out, I grabbed the sealed bag from his hands.

“Don’t take that. It’s…mine.”

“Brenna?” Joe Sunne rushed to me when he heard my angry voice. “What is it?”

He looked down at the plastic bag I had in my hand.

“That’s his medicine pouch. And the bracelet that’s sticking out? I made it for him.” My eyes welled with tears. “I left it…somewhere else, but he brought it with him. I can’t believe he did that.”

I knew without looking that the medicine bag held the twig he had taken from my hair the day we first kissed. With the twig would be a small feather, a remembrance of the day we had set the little wounded bird free. And now my friendship bracelet had been worthy of his special pouch. I held back how personal all this was. My time with White Bird had been private until now. No one would understand how sad I was, watching these men tear apart everything he had worked so hard to do. The sweat lodge was a big deal to him and no one treated his things with respect. No one.

“That’s evidence. I’ve got to take it,” the crime scene investigator argued.

When I didn’t give the medicine pouch back, Will Tate stepped between us. “Sorry, Brenna. You knew this would happen.”

With trembling fingers, I handed the plastic Baggie back to the CSI guy. Will gave me a sympathetic look and got back to work. This whole thing was unfair and wrong. I needed today to turn out good, but all I saw was that daring to hope had been a mistake. And after I’d found the friendship bracelet that I’d made for him out of embroidery thread and beads, I realized he’d brought it here. He had a piece of me with him when he did his quest to become a man.

And knowing that made me sick, especially after how things had turned out.

“A boy doesn’t usually bring personal things with him on a quest,” Joe said. “You must mean a great deal to him.”

The first time we’d met, the man had scared me. Now his deep gravelly voice felt like a hug.

“This has been hard, Joe.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks as I watched the police work. “I have to see him. If there’s a shot at him getting better, I have to find a way to reach him.”

“I know, Brenna.” He squeezed my shoulder as he stood behind me. “Since there’s nothing more we can do here, you want to pay a call on that doctor? We can do it together. And maybe your mother will be done with those painters. We can pick her up on the way. What do you say?”

Joe had a real subtle way of being a friend. And at that moment, when I needed to feel better, he found a way to lift my spirits.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” I wiped my face and smiled. “Thanks, Joe.”

Red Cliffs Hospital—Early Evening

This time I didn’t have to sneak in to see White Bird. I walked up to the receptionist outside the detention unit and signed in, saying, “I’m here to see Isaac Henry.”

I didn’t look up to see her expression. I pretended like I’d visited a hundred times before. And with Mom and Joe standing behind me, it looked like I meant business, but the woman at the desk wasn’t impressed. She looked up something on her computer and narrowed her eyes before she said, “I’ve got a flag that he’s not receiving any visitors. I’ll get his therapist, Dr. Ridgeway.”

She didn’t wait for me to argue. The woman in the white uniform made a call and in minutes Dr. Ridgeway came through the locked door with a loud buzz.

“It’s you.” He looked relieved that I’d come. “And I see you’ve brought people with you.”

I wasn’t used to anyone being happy to see me. I made the introductions. And when it came to Joe Sunne, I stretched the truth a little.

“And this is Joe Sunne. He’s a Shaman and tribal elder of the Euchee. He’s here as an…official. He’s checking into White Bird’s treatment…for his tribe.”

“White Bird?”

“That’s Isaac Henry’s Indian name. He prefers it.”

“I didn’t realize that. Are you here to help your friend, like we discussed?” The doc was playing it cagey in front of witnesses. With a kid, he hadn’t thought twice about throwing his weight around. But with Mom and Joe here, he was acting all professional.

“Yes, that’s why I brought Mr. Sunne. He’s a tribal…representative. He’s here…like a priest.”

Sometimes I don’t know how I come up with my brand of bullshit. It was a gift and a curse. And today, it was a little bit of both. I kept my face real serious and I avoided looking at my mother, but Joe was hard to ignore. He stood with his chest out and chin up with both hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were fixed on the doc in the same scary way he’d glared at me the other night. And he didn’t flinch or say a word.

He almost cracked me up.

“Oh? I’ve never seen anyone from his tribe here before. Your friend has never had a visitor, except for you.” The doc avoided the use of White Bird’s Indian name. “But no matter. As long as you follow my instructions, I’m sure we can…”

“Our tribal customs are very important, too, Doctor. Nurturing the boy’s spirit might heal his body.” Joe spoke for the first time. And he sounded impressive. “Ms. Nash and her mother were kind enough to notify the tribe that this young man was Euchee. We hadn’t known that before now. That’s why he’s had no visitors.”

“Really?” Ridgeway cocked his head and looked confused. “And you’re aware of the boy’s history and why he’s here?”

“Yes, we are.” Joe nodded. “Can we see him now?”

“I’m sorry, but he’s under sedation.” The doctor grimaced. “He hasn’t been sleeping the last few nights, so today we gave him something to help. I wished you had called ahead.”

Nothing had gone right today. And if what the doc said was true, about White Bird being sedated, he wouldn’t have been strong enough to reach me in his condition. I hated this and it showed on my face. Seeing my frustration, Mom put her arm around me.

“What about tomorrow?” Joe pressed and laid it on thick. “The tribal council is waiting for my report on his condition.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ll change his meds, but I’m his attending therapist. I’ll supervise your visit. Is that understood?”

I opened my mouth to object, but Joe nodded and said, “That’ll be fine. We only ask that you respect our customs, as well.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” The doctor told us to come back at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon and left.

I stood there staring at the locked door and it killed me to know White Bird was on the other side. I wanted to be with him. Touch him. And I wanted him to really see me, but I’d have to wait until tomorrow—an eternity in my world.

Shawano—7:20 p.m.

On our way home, we stopped at Denny’s off the interstate. So much had happened that day, I think we all needed time to talk and let things sink in. We sat in the back and picked a megabooth so I could stretch out. The next RV that pulled up with a herd of human clones would have to sit somewhere else.

Joe and my mother ate for real and I faked it.

At first, I caught Mom up on what had happened at the bridge and the crime scene, but eventually our conversation drifted to the hospital and what would come tomorrow. Mom sensed I was holding back and Joe knew I was. He glared at me until I finally got the message. He expected me to be honest and spill my secrets.

And the only way I could do that was over lemon meringue pie.

“Mom? I’ve got something to say and I want Joe to hear this, too. After tomorrow, I’ve got a feeling we won’t have any more secrets between us, so here’s a sneak preview.”

I told her everything; that my reading the obits had a purpose and I confessed that my occasional night trips to the graveyard were visits to my home away from home. Her jaw dropped on that one. I had to think up something to make her feel better.

“Hey, it’s not like I constantly hang out with dead people.” I grimaced and shrugged. “It’s just that most of my friends aren’t exactly breathing, is all.”

That didn’t make her feel any better, but at least she’d stopped asking questions. It didn’t do any good spelling out every detail. I could tell by the look on Mom’s face that she’d reached the saturation point. And Joe had given me the sideways glance that told me my mom had had enough.

Even though having Joe there had helped, it felt strange to talk about dead people and visions at Denny’s. He understood what it was like to be different. And the “gift” he’d been given as a small boy, surviving his vision quest, gave us common ground. I had no idea if I was actually losing my mind, but I knew that I was a far cry from being “normal.”

“Oh, my gosh, honey. I can’t believe you went through all that…alone. You thought you were schizophrenic?”

When her eyes filled with tears, I knew what she was thinking.

“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. But I thought I’d put you through too much already. I was really scared I’d be a burden—more of one—and I couldn’t do that to you.” I reached for her hand. “But if what Joe says is right, maybe I can help White Bird. I have to try.”

“But isn’t that risky?” she asked me, but turned to Joe for an answer. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Yes, there’s risk. And most people would think this is pure mumbo jumbo. But I’ve experienced it. And I know what I know,” he told her. When I glared at him for being too honest, Joe narrowed his eyes back at me. “We talked about this, Brenna. Your mom has a right to know. And a casual conversation over pie won’t cut it. The two of you should talk more.”

“Okay already. I get it.” I took a bite of pie. “All this talking is wearing me out.”

Although I’d resisted telling Mom the truth until now, it had felt good to finally have everything in the open. I was still worried sick for White Bird, but I allowed myself a moment of feeling good. Lying and hiding stuff took a lot of energy. No wonder I was so friggin’ skinny.

Hours Later

Lemon meringue pie and Mom’s smile—a real smile that let me see the girl she used to be—had given me a false sense of security. After I got home, I took a long hot shower to wash off the grime and what was left of my hope. In denial, I got dressed in my T-shirt and boxers and went straight to bed, pretending I could sleep. Acting like I was normal.

I was exhausted. And the walls of my room had closed in and my mind wouldn’t let me relax. But this time I didn’t run away to be with my stone angels. I had stayed to face my fears, which felt like a mistake.

I wasn’t ready. Maybe I’d never be.

As I lay on my bed in the dark, I stared at my ceiling and all my insecurities hit at once. I’d wanted something more today. I’d counted on it. And when nothing much happened, I felt the hollow ache of failure. For White Bird’s sake, that couldn’t happen tomorrow. But what if it did?

What if I couldn’t reach him like before? With all the hype over me having a gift, what if I had nothing except plain vanilla schizophrenia? The strain of being back in Shawano had hit me. I was faced with the stark reality that I might not be able to fix any of this. Not even having Mom and Joe on my side would matter if I couldn’t help White Bird. Our paths had been linked from the first time we’d met. I felt responsible.

And I was scared as hell that our fate had already been decided.

This time when I closed my eyes, I didn’t feel White Bird at all and that terrified me. In the dark, we were both invisible. We didn’t exist. And all that I wasn’t, and would never be, stared back at me through the blackness. What if he’d given up or had lost the strength to reach me? Maybe he’d blown through and wasted the only freedom he’d ever have and the emptiness inside me was all there was. I didn’t want to think about the tie between us being severed for good, but in the dark of my room, that’s all I saw.

After Midnight

I jerked awake to the sound of my mother screaming.

“Brenna! Get down and stay down!” The sound of loud pops forced me off my bed. And I fell onto shattered glass. Cracks in my window glinted in the moonlight. And the lamp on my nightstand had tumbled to the wood floor and busted. Had someone shot through my window?

“What’s happening?” I yelled, but Mom didn’t hear me.

Her footsteps thudded down the hall outside my room and the door swung open. She found me cowering in the dark. I was on the floor by my bed with hands over my head.

“Was that a gun?” I wasn’t making sense, but everything I said had come from gut instinct. It felt like we were under attack. “Is someone shooting at us?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell,” she whispered and shielded me with her body. That scared me more than I already was.

In the distance I heard the screech of tires and the house got real quiet, except for dogs barking across the street. Mom stayed still and stopped me from moving.

“Turn on some lights,” I said.

“No! Not until we know they’re gone.”

Mom had used the word they, and Jade, Derek and his terrible friends flashed into my head. Waking up from a dead sleep, I must have heard something that had scared me awake. I had sat up in bed with my heart hammering, like my nightmares.

Only this time it had been real.

“I think they’re gone, Mom.” I got to my feet, even with her grabbing me.

“Don’t go. They might still be in the house.” Panic had gripped her hard, but she got up with me. “Get some shoes on. There’s glass on the floor. And no lights. They could be down the street waiting to shoot whatever moves.”

I slipped into the unlaced boots I had tossed onto the floor by my bed. And I grabbed the only weapon I had in my room—a pen I had in my purse, the kind with a pointy fine line. I gripped the pen in my hand like a dagger. When I crept from my room, I was clinging to my mom’s back and we moved together down the stairs. Her breaths came in pants, like mine. And I was shaking out of my skin. I peered through the dark and found monsters in every shadow. When we got to the front room, I saw broken glass everywhere. Windows had been shattered and rocks littered the floor. Maybe we’d only heard the pops of glass breaking, but I still didn’t flip the lights on. If they were watching down the street, I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d scared us.

Stupid, I know.

With a trembling hand, I peeked through the drapes of the bay window and stared onto the front lawn.

“Oh. My. God,” I gasped.

Grams’s house had been trashed. Garbage was strewn on the lawn. And someone had spray painted our windows and torn apart all the planting I had done. They had tossed dirt and plants down the street and smashed flowerpots. And toilet paper hung from the trees. I could only imagine what Grams’s old house would look like in daylight and it made me sick.

After a long silence, Mom finally said, “We’ve got to call the police.”

“Do we have to? You know what’s gonna happen.”

I knew reporting what had happened would be a waste of time—especially if Derek Bast had played a part in the vandalism. He’d spent his entire life flying under the radar of his cop uncle. And only Sheriff Logan knew how many times he’d looked the other way to cover for his nephew.

“I don’t care.” Mom crossed her arms. “Matt Logan might have this whole town fooled, but it’s time someone stood up to him. The next time I see him, he’s gettin’ a double shot of me.”