On the Road Again

Early the next morning we said our good-byes.
In a quiet semi-ceremony we were both presented with beaded leather medalions. Mine had a mountain on one side and a star on the other. Owen's had a mouse stitched in beads on one side and an eagle on the other. If I'd been a little sharper I'd have suspected that these had been knocked out since the stories last night, but Small Buck explained that both had been in the tribe a long time. As I knew the tales hadn't been made up on the spot, but were part of a long oral tradition, this made sense when I thought about it.
"Wear the medalions, my brothers" Small Buck said solemnly. "They will tell the Sioux that you are adopted by the people and are not to be interfered with. Red Sky has also marked your vehicle with his magic. Perhaps it will be enough."
I immediately found myself wishing I hadn't seen that shrug he gave next about a dozen times already in acceptance of the possiblity of inescapable death and destruction..
"We have an honor debt to the people." Owen said in that formal way he has. He bowed deeply and said "Thank you" When he straightened up he offered a card saying "If you call, I will come." I assume the card had a telcom number on it. Small Buck understood the deeper significance of the boss' offer and accepted it with reverence.
"Fare you well, my brothers. May you find what you've lost." He gravely shook our hands and looking at the sky observed "I must say goodbye to Sacred Raven. He sleeps with Father Sun in the west today. It is a day for parting."
The boss seemed to accept this but I sure as hell didn't and blurted out, "Can't we say goodbye to Sacred Raven too?"
I was rewarded with the shy smile that the people had and Small Buck immediately nodded and began leading us to Sacred Raven's teepee. The boss gave me a nod and a look which said that he wouldn't have asked but was glad that I had.

****

Physically, the old man looked like he had hung around about 150 years longer than he should have. Now, don't get me wrong, Sacred Raven had always looked like the old man he was. Real old, but, I don't know, still....vital, somehow. Like a tough old weathered piece of leather. Seemingly overnight that piece of leather had been scraped down to scraps. Sacred Raven looked.... shrunken. Like he was folding in on himself. Like a baloon that the air was leaking out of....except, he wasn't pained or even tired. When I saw how deflated he looked I expected him to be gasping in pain or too tired to keep his eyes open. There wasn't any of that. He was.....satisfied. I mean in spite of his physical condition, he reminded me of somebody who'd had a bitch of a job that he'd finally finished. You know, a long hard project that fights you every step of the way so that when its finally done you're glad, anxious to move on and yet proud enough over what you've accomplished that you don't entirely want to leave.

Sacred Raven, who'd chanted and prayed through a sweat lodge that nearly killed me, who'd risked his life to heal a half naked madman, who'd driven out a demon so malign and powerful that it had been on earth since before the pyramids, was finally done with a bitch of a job. He was proud of his life and satisfied with all that he had done and was ready to move on. I found myself wondering if, at the end of my life, I would be as ready for the next plane of existance.

"Touched by Spirits," he said, "Is Lightning evil?"

Owen looked at the old man for several minutes before quietly saying "I don't know"

Sacred Raven sort of nodded and then said " It starts fires, splits ancient trees, kills men. It has a terrible power, but it is part of the world. The fires clear land for new growth, new trees grow to replace the old and men become clever avoiding death from the sky. This is the way."

I expected that there would be something more but he called me over and asked "Strong Hands Travels, what is prayer?"

This time I was silent. I wanted to tell him that I was the last person he should ask, that he, a powerful shaman, knew better than I ever would, I wanted...... Hell it didn't matter what I wanted. Something in the old man's eye compelled me to answer him as completely as I could- no dodge allowed. Finally I said "Prayer is talking to a greater power."

He gestured me closer to his bedside and when I leaned in he tapped me in the chest and whispered "The greatest power is in the heart"

Then he sort of sighed and said "Farewell, my brothers. Learn and grow."

Ten minutes later we were on our way out of the Valley of the Chiefs.

******

We rode in silence for a while. It wasn't a bored silence or an angry silence or even a tired silence. We were just both sort of lost in our own thoughts. Between the visions and the stories and Sacred Raven's parting words there was an awful lot to think about. We probably wouldn't have talked all day, but eventually the boss pulled out his flute and began softly playing. I don't have much of an ear for music but I liked his stuff. It was.... refreshing? I don't know how to describe it, but it kept my reflections about everything from going all dark and brooding.

We'd gone about a hundred miles or so when I said, "Boss, I've got two questions."

Owen thought about this for a minute and then said "Go ahead"

"Why'd Sacred Raven ask you if lightning was evil?" I asked.

"The old man knew I'm troubled about what I've done..... by what I do.. My visions demonstrated my problem and his final words to me where intended to help. Lightning's power is evil for what it destroys but without that destruction nature cannot renew itself. So, from another perspective lightning's power is good."

When he stopped there I just got a flash impression that the boss was sort of done with his 'teaching' phase. Mouse wasn't around and I got the sense that the world might not make as much sense to the boss as it once did. I figured I'd be getting less explanations in the future.

"Hmmmm" I temporized. "You mean like the wolf is evil according to rabbits because it eats them, but without his 'thinning' the population, the rabbits would multiply so much that they'd eat all the grass and eventually starve to death. So the 'evil' is actually good. Destruction is part of life's cycle."

Instead of amplifying or clearing up my version, Owen just said "Close enough"

"So its all a matter of perspective?" I asked "There is no evil?"

"No. There definitely is evil." he said with a haunted look..

I would have let it drop but he was focusing back on exactly what I didn't want him focusing on, so I asked "Does what Sacred Raven said help any?" I asked

"Somewhat." he admitted. "The problem is, a man is not a rabbit or a wolf or lightning. Its fine to say my destroying stuff allows nature to replenish itself. It's just too easy. Nature survives and adapts to anything. The world's resillance is not licence enough to be a mobile disaster area."

After a few minutes he concluded "I need to keep working on it."

I took what solace I could from that.

A few miles later he asked "What was the second question?"

Although I was sort of embarassed, I asked, "Why was the story of the North Star for me."

Owen looked at me and asked "Why do you think?"

"It doesn't make any sense!" I said. "First the Crow named me Strong Hands Travels, right? They can see I'm a rigger and that I'm pretty tied up with wheels, so how does a story of a star that never moves have anything to do with me?"

The boss nodded and asked me. "How'd you like that Valley of the Chiefs?"

I didn't see where he was going but I played along. "Pretty country and great people but too...uh..holy for me."

"You didn't like the feeling?"

"C'mon, boss." I said "You know I hate that otherworldly stuff."

"And the sweat lodge?" He continued, "How'd you like the ceremony?"

"Well, I felt great when it was over but I'd rather have my teeth pulled out without anesthetic than go through that little adventure again."

"Then why'd you do it?" Owen challenged, "Why didn't you just beg off or, better yet, ride on."

"I couldn't do that." I said, thinking he might not be as recovered as he sounded. "You needed help and Small Buck said my being there might help you find your way back."

"So you stayed for days in a place that made you uncomfortable to participate in a dangerous and demanding ritual even though you say you're scared silly by any contact with the spirit world."

"Yeah" I said. I still didn't see how this was like a hunter who got stuck on top of a mountain.

"The Crow saw that you were completely loyal and faithful. No matter what it cost, you were unshakably dedicated. They admired your selfless commitment, so they honored you by telling the story of the single thing in all the heavens which never changes."

He delivered this embarassing analysis without any emotion attached to it. To him it was as simple as move-block-counter. I guess it was even a bigger compliment that he didn't dress it up with hearts and flowers but the way he said it made it tough to think of a way to play it off. Maybe that was his intent. After a few seconds he quietly added "Thank you, Itami Hanzo. Without you I'd be dead right now, or worse. I count on you."

I guess he sensed how uncomfortable trying to respond to that was so he went back to playing the flute.

*******

Somewhere along the way we passed over the border into the Sioux Nation. I say somewhere because I just don't remember a checkpoint. Maybe it was the mark that Red Sky put on the SUV. Maybe the border's not guarded at all. (Yeah. Right.) Maybe the border is so well guarded that they knew we were no threat. Or maybe I was just so caught up in deciphering the big picture- you know, absorbing universal truth about the meaning of life and stuff, that I passed through a border check without paying attention.

Whatever the case, after a day's driving we pulled off I 90, built a fire and cooked some of the provisions that the people had packed for us. It wasn't quite as tasty as the meal we'd had after the sweat lodge, but it was good. When we were finished, we completely broke down the camp and again slept in the SUV.

I confess I spent some time staring at the night sky and thinking about what the boss had said. It felt pretty good, I must admit, and that night I slept like a baby.

---

This story is copyright of the author. Shadowrun was a Registered Trademark of FASA Corporation until they went busto foldo. Now Wizkids LLC owns it. Or possibly FanPro. Or some other dragon owned subsidiary. Whoever holds the trademark, they didn't call and tell me it was ok to write this, and anybody who says I said that is full of it. I'm not challenging any of the rights or trademarks of anybody who own's them, whoever they are. I'm just writing stories. Honest. Thank you for not litigating.