Chapter 1

Oh woe to those of us who suffer the fate of Cassandra. Doomed to know the future, yet there is no one who will believe our prophecies. Disbelief is not the real curse under which we live. We are doomed to know of pending tragedies with no way of avoiding them. That is impotence far greater than the inability to have an erection.

All of us live under the curse of Cassandra. We watch as people run headlong into tragedy while ignoring all warnings that would save them from their doom. The woman who goes from abusive relationship to abusive relationship will ignore our warnings in the deluded belief that this will be the one that is different. What a sad state of affairs it is for we who are forced to watch disasters develop.

Inside each person exists a fatal flaw that is the kernel of his or her doom. It leaves them helpless to avoid disaster in the same way that a deer facing the headlights of an oncoming truck is unable to move out of the way. The flaw itself dictates the tragedy that will befall the person. Like Cassandra, we see the flaw and know the tragedy.

What a boon it would be if we could avoid disaster by removing the fatal flaw from within ourselves, but alas that is not possible. No one recognizes the fatal flaw that exists within him or her. There is no magic mirror that reflects our flaws back at us. Our eyes are blind to it. Our ears are deaf to all news concerning it.

Even if we were to learn the flaw, we can not eliminate it. The alcoholic who has been sober for forty years still dreams of an ice- cold glass of beer. The victim of abuse still seeks the heart of gold within their abuser. Resistance is not futile, but it takes eternal diligence to keep disaster at bay. A single moment of weakness is all that is required for it to wreck havoc.

Oh woe to us whose fate is seen by Cassandra. We are doomed not to know the future because we are unable to believe the prophecies uttered by others. Disbelief is the curse under which we live. Others know of our pending tragedies and we have no way of avoiding them. That is impotence far greater than the inability to have an erection.

The young man shrugged off his robe and waded, naked, into the artificially created pond. As a result of a summer storm the previous night, a branch had fallen into the stream and had lodged at the dam that created the pond. Standing in water that came to his waist, he wrestled one end of the branch to the bank. Nearly five inches in diameter at the base and twenty feet long, the branch could have been considered a small tree.

From the tree above, a raven made a sharp tock sound. The young man looked up at the raven as it flew to towards the house and said, "Friendly visitor? That's odd."

A thrush landed on the branch he was holding and tapped it twice with its beak. The young man looked down at the thrush and said, "Two? It must be my lucky day."

Without turning to face the path that led back to the house, he shouted, "Follow the bird!"

Having come around the side of the house without seeing anyone, Marjory and Jennifer Mitchell were surprised by the shout. Jennifer, a young woman of fifteen, looked at her mother and asked, "Did you hear someone say we were to follow a bird?"

"Yes."

From over their heads, a raven gave forth a quork sound causing them both to look up at it. Once it had their attention, it repeated the call. The bird flew twenty feet to another branch and gave the call a third time. Jennifer, eyes wide in surprise, asked, "Do you think that's the bird we're supposed to follow?"

"I guess," answered Marjory wondering what was going on. A shiver ran down her spine as the situation reminded her of some scene out of horror movie. She didn't like ravens.

As they followed the bird down a path from the house, Marjory considered what she knew about her new neighbors. A month previously, the house had been bought. The rumor was that the new owner paid cash for it, but rumors were notorious for being wrong. A week after the purchase, a huge crowd of people had descended on the house. They had arrived in Huggers, vans, taxies, and cars of all kinds and prices. Because of the arrangement of the houses along the circle, she hadn't been able to make out any of the visitors.

For two weeks, the sound of nearly constant construction had been the only sign that anyone was there. Her attention had been drawn away from the house, since that had been an exciting time in town. A couple of Druids had showed up and then disappeared leaving the rumor mill churning. Then one day, the construction stopped and she hadn't seen or heard much of anything after that.

For the past week, it was as though no one lived there although she knew better. The arrival and departure of a limousine twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, suggested that someone with lots of money had moved into the house. It was all very mysterious and Marjory didn't like it.

Marjory was brought out of her musing by a sudden exclamation from her daughter. "Oh my! He's naked!"

Marjory looked up and spotted the naked young man. Shocked at the sight of the copper skinned youth, Marjory immediately thought about protecting her daughter from the sight of a naked man. In a brusque voice, she said, "Jennifer, turn around and don't look."

Even as Jennifer turned, her first glimpse of a naked young man was forever etched into her memory. He looked like a Native American with a long black braid that hung down his back. His body was perfect with a muscled v-shaped chest. Her eyes had dwelled on his cock for a lot longer than was appropriate. Without previous experience on which to compare, she decided that he was well hung. As far as she was concerned, he was hot.

The young man, working on the opposite bank of the pond, pulled the large limb out of the water and dragged it towards a brush pile. He continued working without taking note of his two visitors. Once he was satisfied that branch was properly out of the way, he turned back to face the pond. He waved to his visitors across the small body of water before wading into it.

"Young man! Put some clothes on!"

The young man emerged from the pond and walked over to where he had dropped his robe. There was no sign of embarrassment at having been caught naked by a pair of women. He picked up the robe and put it on, although with his wet body the robe tended to stick to him. He took out a small leather pouch on a string from one of the pockets and slipped it around his neck. Once he was dressed, he walked over to where the pair of women was waiting for him.

Marjory gasped at the sight of blue robe with white sleeves. She knew what the robe signified, but couldn't believe anyone his age should be wearing it. He appeared to be the same age as her daughter. There was no way someone fifteen years old could have graduated from the Druid College.

The noise was enough to cause Jennifer to look over her shoulder. Surprised, she said, "You're one of them."

"He's not old enough to be one of them!"

"I wasn't aware that my age prevented me from being one of them," answered the young man with a smile. He didn't know how many times he'd heard graduates of the Druid College referred to as 'them.' Shrugging, he said, "I guess I'll have to call up the Grand Druid and tell him that I'm not supposed to be one of them until I get older."

"You don't know the Grand Druid."

"You may believe what you wish," said the young man. After a moment's pause, he asked, "So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Looking at the young man as if she wanted to eat him alive, Jennifer said, "We came to warn you about the bear."

"Bear?"

Marjory said, "Yes. A bear has been spotted in the neighborhood. The police are looking for it."

"What will they do with this bear once they spot it?"

Jennifer answered, "Probably kill it."

Nodding, William turned to face the woods while grasping the small sack that hung around his neck in his right hand. Using the Navaho word for bear, he called out, "Shush."

What appeared to be a shadow at the base of a tree resolved itself into the shape of a bear once the animal rose from the ground. It was a very large black bear. Pronouncing each word individually, Marjory muttered, "Oh My God!"

"Shush, a-zeh-ha-ge-yah dineh-ih be-hay-jah yel khol-go e-e-ah." Still speaking Navaho, the young man told the bear to escape to the northern lands a day away knowing it would put the bear in the middle of the state park.

The bear rose on its back legs and roared out a challenge. Shaking his head, the young man shouted, "Nay-nih-jih."

The bear fell back to four legs and, after looking around, shuffled deeper into the woods. The young man released his hold on the small sack around his neck. Turning back to the face the two women, he said, "Thank you. I have warned the bear. He'll go back to the state park where he can't be hunted."

"You talked to a bear," said Jennifer in awe.

"You can't talk to a bear," said Marjory incredulous.

"You may believe what you wish," said the young man repeating what was a common refrain for him. He'd call the local police and let them know that the bear was leaving the area.

The young woman stared at him for half a minute before she asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm William Redman Carter," answered the young man with a nod in her direction. She was attractive. At fifteen, her body was developing into the woman that she would become. The baby fat was disappearing, but the gentle feminine curves had not fully appeared. He asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Jennifer Mitchell. This is my mother, Marjory Mitchell," answered the young woman with a gesture in the direction of her mother.

Marjory was still staring at the retreating shape of the bear unable to believe what she had observed. Hearing herself being introduced to the young man, she turned around and looked at him. She said, "I didn't catch your name."

"I am William Redman Carter."

"Do you go by Billy?" asked Marjory.

"Do you go by Maggie?" asked William examining the older woman. She was in her late thirties and it showed. Her body advertised that she had given birth to children with the kind of weight gain that many mothers never lost.

Cringing at the name, Marjory answered, "No."

"She hates that name," said Jennifer aiming a grin at her mother. If her father really wanted to make her mother angry, he'd call her Maggie.

"I feel the same way about Billy," said William.

"It has taken me years to get my mother to stop calling me Jenny."

William stared off into the distance for a minute as he considered what to do next. The mother was curious about her new neighbor and wouldn't leave until she had discovered all that there was to know. He sighed at the lack of choices available to him and said, "Would you like to come in the house for a drink?"

Daughter looked to mother with a hopeful expression that turned to delight when the mother smiled and answered, "That would be lovely."

They followed the young man back up the trail to the house. As they went, he gave a running commentary of the changes he had made to the property. "We dammed the stream to form the pool so that I would have a place to swim. I thought it would be better than installing a swimming pool. It is not very deep, but it is cool. The gravel path was put in to allow me to walk back to the house without getting muddy. Cindy designed and built it for me."