Chapter 42

I was up early the next morning. At least, early for me: 8:30 a.m. I was taking a shower when Red messaged me.

[Lexi, can you take an update now?]

Unless you have startling news, I don’t think I’ll slip in the tub.

[Good. Finances first. We had a good run-up in the oil stocks and the banks. Inflation is about to go through the roof, unfortunately for Americans. We’ve made nearly $500,000 in your public account. We had to take a loss, intentionally, to make it seem like we’re not perfect. The SEC takes a dim view on perfection in trading stocks. The secret accounts are still making about ten million a week.]

[In other news, the Grand Rapids police department had some activity on their radio frequency last night that is relevant. Michael Matthews was killed in an apparent mugging in the early morning hours. His throat was cut and his watch, wallet, and shoes were taken. His body was dumped in an alley. The car was found several miles away. The knife was a typical hunting knife, and was used in what was described as ‘a very amateurish way.’ I don’t know what that means. According to the early edition of the newspapers, he is survived by his wife and brother. No information on the killers ... Just thought you’d want to know.]

That’s Shioban’s father, isn’t it?

[It would seem so. I suppose there could be another Michael Matthews in Grand Rapids.]

That would be a stretch. I wonder if Linc will be coming back from his vacation soon. They didn’t say anything about the brother or his family?

[No.]

I think I need to go to level again, and do some katas. Today is the day for Sensei Lee’s session.

The boys were already sharing breakfast with Wild Mustang and White Dove. Snow was still perched on a pole at the far end of the laundry-drying line. Apparently, she didn’t need to eat – something that somehow bothered me.

I went straight outside to sit on the back porch, where I could see Snow. I passed by the four people sitting down having breakfast. I just wasn’t hungry. Shocking, I know. The great white owl just blinked at me. She seemed so, I dunno, just calm. I sat down in a lotus position and just stared at Snow.

I tried to find a calm and peaceful place.

Red?

[I’ll play the soothing recording of the alpha/theta music.]

Yeah. That’s what I was going to say.

[I know. I heard your thoughts before you formed the words.]

I kept thinking about the scream of ‘Tammi’ during the ‘Mistress Angel’ session yesterday. And I kept flashing back to my experiences in life #1 when I was a teenager. All those men. They were ... They were smelly. I could remember the smell of them. Sweat and grime. Grease and diesel fuel. And that smell was mixed with the pain of being raped, orally and vaginally. Over and over. Held down. I could remember my so-called mother tying me to the bed. Every weekend. It would start on Friday, and then she’d untie me on Sunday. I mean she untied me in between ‘customers,’ but I was never out of her sight then. There was a damn rope on my ankle, always tied to something. Every damn weekend.

I blinked back at Snow. She blinked at me. My eyes closed and I listened to the music that covered the subliminal messages that were supposed to relax me.

Tammi’s screams echoed in my mind. But it wasn’t Tammi. It was me, screaming into the gag they forced into my mouth the first few rapes. The men laughed at my screams, at my struggles against the ropes that held me down. The woman – my mother – held my legs open.

I shook my head. That WASN’T me. That was life #1. It never happened in this life. It never happened. It was only a fantasy memory that happened to someone else. To a life that I’d never live through, now.

I smelled something else, now. Heard something else. I opened my eyes and looked around. There were smudge pots at my sides, left and right. Smoke was rising from them. Wild Mustang was sitting opposite me, on the porch, eyes closed, and he was chanting something in the Navajo language that I didn’t understand.

I looked at him, then at Snow. She just blinked her large yellow eyes at me, slowly. I took a deep breath of the smokey air, let it all flow out, and then closed my eyes again. I could relax. I could feel Painted Rock and Sun Bear, just on the other side of the window. They were having breakfast, like everything was just normal. My friends and guardians were here. The music flowed through my brain quietly.

I could accept the memories as only that. A ‘what if’ thought that would never affect me now. My mind finally focused on nothing. I slipped into that space that was between sleep and wakefulness.

I woke – or came out of it – sometime later. My internal clock said it was 12:33. Old Wild Mustang was still there, sitting on his butt, still chanting something. I uncoiled my legs and stood up slowly, noiselessly, I thought. The Medicine Man opened his eyes and stopped his mantra. I took a step and clamped his shoulder with my right hand.

“Thank you, grandfather. You helped a lot,” I half-whispered.

His hand covered mine on his shoulder. “Ugh,” was all he said. I expected nothing else.

We put the lids on the smudge pots. Eventually, the smoldering herbs would go out.

He and I went back inside. The guys were watching a talk show on the TV, but there was a bunch of eatables laid out on the table. Thank the Gods! I was hungry.

It was a little bit comical. Rock and Bear turned their heads around as if they coordinated it, and just looked at me. I gave them a little wave as I sat down to eat.

“Maybe we could go out to Burnside North after lunch,” I said between bites of the something-that-tasted-good-paste, smeared on the flatbread.

“Uh huh,” Rock said. “Aren’t we supposed to go to Sensei Lees’s this afternoon?”

While Bear just said “Sure.”

I’d forgotten about Sensei Lee. I was so wrapped up in my problems, I just forgot about the other things that were going on. I was supposed to go and get gun instruction today, too.

[No problem, Lexi. Remember, YOUR sanity is the number one priority. Despite the messages you’ve been getting from your previous life, you are only thirteen years old. When was the last day off you’ve had?]

A day off? What’s that?

...

Linc returned from his vacation at the end of the week. He didn’t look any different. I know I’d look different if I did what I thought he did.

He got me in his SUV on the second day he was back. It was just him and me in the Jeep, and he said, “He was living in an apartment by himself, so the wife must have ejected him. After, when I took his keys and entered the apartment, I found some video tapes of several girls. Shioban wasn’t the first. Nor the last. No evidence he’d targeted the cousin, though. I burned the tapes. Thought you should know. We don’t need to discuss this animal again. I had to take two showers to get the stench of him off me.”