Lost Girl in Transition Ch. 27

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Sun shone through the puffy and cotton-like clouds in the sky, beaming down on the prairie which stretched out far beyond. More than simply beautiful, it was a gorgeous Montana day. The kind that was postcard worthy, with plenty of fresh clean mountain air.

Gazing out at it all, Tristan felt a heaviness in his heart, a soreness in his throat and lungs which made it hard to properly breathe. Normally he would have rejoiced over such beautiful weather, but this wasn’t a day like any other.

Dressed in a pair of black slacks, button-up shirt and Blackfoot beaded vest, he was mentally preparing himself to say goodbye. Not wanting to look yet knowing that he must, his gaze shifted to the cross-shaped gravemarker.

Hand made by himself, it had been painted a vibrant pink, with small purple flowers adorning one side. To him it perfectly represented Shauna, who’d been soft and feminine, as well as vibrant and full of life. Or at least she had been, back in last summer when they first had met. No sooner had that thought gone through his mind, did Tristan feel a hand touch his shoulder.

“Son….” Low and caring, a female voice spoke out. “It’s time.”

Turning to face his mother Winona, he nodded his head. She then pulled him into a hug that was filled with tenderness. As they embraced, Tristan smelled her lilac perfume, which was pleasantly sweet and incredibly comforting. When they pulled back, he saw she was sadly smiling, as if hoping to let him know that she was just as sorry about Shauna’s death.

Coming forward from behind her was Tristan’s great aunt Tina, a middle-aged woman that was a bit plump and of petite height. Hair worn in a braid that reached mid-back, she gave Tristan an embrace, then pulled back to look into his eyes. A gentle looking woman, she’d always put Tristan at ease, so he was grateful to have her in attendance.

“Aunt Tina….”

Thinking back to the last time he’d seen her, Tristan realized it was three Christmases ago. He guessed the surprise must have shown on his face, because her lips pulled gently upward.

“I know It’s been awhile since I last came, Tristan. But when your mother told me of Shauna’s passing, I decided to book a flight and come on out from Colorado.”

“I appreciate that, but you didn’t need to go through all that trouble. I didn’t mean to have you travel all this distance…”

“It was no problem at all,” she responded. “Not to mention, I never did get a chance to meet Maggie. I know it isn’t exactly the best time to do all of this, but I’m here to help in any way that I can.”

“Well thanks, it really means a lot you came all the way out here.”

With Tina on one side and Winona on his other, they led him out of the backyard and towards the front of the house. Knowing what was there, Tristan braced himself for what he would see. Yet on reaching the wide porch and spotting the form which was laying there, he immediately felt a hesitation that was incredibly overwhelming.

Wrapped tightly in a Pendleton buffalo blanket, Shauna’s body rested on a wooden frame that was designed for burial. Since her suicide four days ago, Tristan hadn’t seen her at all, as she’d been taken to a funeral home to be embalmed. But now that she was back and ready to be buried, he wanted this last chance to see her in the flesh.

Standing next to her body was Tristan’s father, as well as Big John, who was his uncle. Also present was an elderly man named Pat, who served as a spiritual leader and healer for the tribe. Taking note of Tristan, all three men stepped aside to let him through. Walking hesitantly up the steps of the porch, Tristan made his way to where Shauna’s body was laying.

Four days had passed since she’d died, and letting out a deep breath, he stared down at her lifeless form. Outfitted in a white deer hide dress with glass beads and abalone shells, Shauna had been specially dressed by Tristan’s mother and his great aunt. On her feet were a pair of burial moccasins, which had fully beaded soles. Handmade by an elder on the rez, they were especially sacred and carried a powerful energy which could be felt.

Since Shauna was Maggie’s mother, she’d been respected and honored with Blackfoot garments, which had not only been saged, but also blessed with several prayers. Shifting his eyes to her face, he was relieved she didn’t look as creepy as he’d expected. Incredibly pale, yes, but also surprisingly quite pretty.

Staring harder, he saw an emptiness that broke his heart, a mere shell of who she had been. But there was a peacefulness in her expression that made him feel good, made him certain that she was at rest and no longer tortured by the challenges of life. Seeing her this last time did give him some satisfaction, but it was still exceptionally hard to accept the fact that she was actually gone.

Swallowing a lump, he pushed out a deep breath, then walked into the house and towards the couch. Seated upon it was baby Maggie, who wore a deerskin dress that fell escort to her ankles. Decorated with a colorful geometric design, it had cut fringes and glass pony beds. Finishing off the look were a pair of tanned buffalo moccasins, so perfectly handmade by none other than Winona.

Lifting her into his arms, Tristan gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, then carried her onto the porch where Shauna’s body was laying on the frame. Bending onto one knee so that Maggie was closer to her mother, Tristan allowed her the chance to see Shauna’s face.

Maggie stared for a long moment, as if expecting that Shauna would wake up and reanimate to her normal self, but as she remained completely still and devoid of any life, Maggie let out one mournful word.

“Ma-ma.”

Heart aching at the sound of her voice, Tristan watched as Maggie reached out to touch Shauna’s cheek. After a few moments she pulled her hand back, and gazing up at Tristan, gave him the most sorrowful look. Bottom lip quivering, Maggie showed him her large, wet eyes. Knowing full well she was close to crying, Tristan rose to his feet and turned his back to the coffin. Stepping forward to accept Maggie was Winona, who held the baby in her arms and softly cooed.

Now ready to move the body to its burial site, Tristan took his place at the top left corner of the wooden frame. Standing next to the top right corner was his father, while Big John took the bottom left corner and Pat took the right. Synching their movements so they each lifted the burial cradle all together, the four men walked off the porch and towards the back of the house. Once there, they continued across the huge open prairie, walking through tall grass that blew gently in the breeze. It took a good five minutes before they reached where they were going, and upon entering an area of land with several gravemarkers, the four men began to slow down.

Known as the Whitefeather burial plot, it had been in Tristan’s family for generation upon generation. Settled under wide-open sky, it was a beautiful and peaceful spot of land. Having reached the dug-up earth which would serve as her plot, they carefully placed the wooden platform on the ground.

Stepping forth in front of the grave was Pat, an elderly man who was revered as a spiritual healer on the reservation. Holding up a large bundle of sage, he made offerings to the four directions, calling out to the spirit of the East, South, West, and North. He spoke different words of prayer as he turned to each direction, then grabbed a bundle of evergreen branches and began tucking them around Shauna’s body.

Once that was done, Pat offered a container of water for each person to cleanse their hands, then led them all in a prayer to the four directions, earth and sky. Now holding a large Tupperware bowl of cornmeal, Pat invited each person to grab a generous handful, then sprinkle it onto the body.

Even baby Maggie joined in and threw some too, her tiny little hand fisting a handful of grain. More than just an offering of food, it would assure her a safe, prosperous journey to the spirit plane.

With little time left before the ceremony came to an end, Tristan stepped forth with an item that he wanted to bury with Shauna. A sketch of her face, it was beautifully detailed and done in all ink. Wanting to develop the best possible likeness, he’d taken his time in creating it – 14 hours to be exact.

More than just good it was excellent, perhaps one of the best drawings he had ever done. And knowing she’d wanted so badly for him to create a portrait her, Tristan decided this was something that she truly deserved. So it only made sense that he buried her with it, and kneeling next to her body, tucked it into the blanket in which she was wrapped.

“Hope you like it,” he said to Shauna’s body. “And sorry I refused to draw you when you were alive. That was mean of me, and I really regret it.”

Cold and lifeless, she could only lay there, and feeling a need to touch her one last time, he reached out to thread his fingers through her soft blonde hair.

“Have a safe journey, Shauna. And see you when I get there.”

Stepping forward with a drum in hand, Pat led a chant, which they all joined in with spirited energy and soulful voices.

“Ah-hey anah, ah-hey anah, ah-hey anah, ah-hey oh…”

Holding a rattle and keeping the rhythm with Pat’s drum, Tristan watched as Big John and his father, Ray, lifted the body off the wooden platform. Now suspended by ropes, it was free to be lowered into the earth. Inch by inch, with incredible care, it began its descent into the ground. As this was happening, both drum and rattle sped up, infused by the spiritual energy that surrounded them.

Deeply feeling each second of the moment, Tristan watched as Shauna’s form disappeared from full view. Knowing that this was a full and true goodbye, he felt a soreness in his lungs, as if the simple act of breathing was too much to handle. A growing lump had risen in escort bayan his throat, but it hurt too much for him to swallow.

Everyone took turns throwing dirt into the grave over her body, a ceremonial act that completed the service. And as a shovel was handed to Tristan from Pat, he accepted reluctantly, then got busy at filling the grave. It was dusty work but he shoveled energetically, placing earth into the dug-out hole. When the grave was totally filled he took a step back, eyeing the freshly turned dirt which now sealed the space where Shauna was buried.

Still unable to completely believe that she was gone, he stared blankly at the headstone, which was prettily decorated. Now that she was gone, he suddenly missed things he’d taken for granted. One of those was her smile, which had been bright and pretty and so lovely and feminine. She’d had nice eyes too, a shade of medium-to-light blue that he had really dug.

All of that was gone now though, and in a matter of years, she’d be nothing but a skeleton. It was a strange thought for certain, as just a mere few days ago she’d been alive. He hadn’t seen this coming at all, couldn’t have ever phanthomed that she’d take her own life. But now that she had, he was left with a cold and empty feeling inside, not to mention all the coulda, woulda, shoulda’s that ate him up.

So caught in his own thoughts, it took a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present. Turning his head, he saw his father was beside him, offering a deep and thoughtful expression.

“I’m sorry again, son. I really am.”

A gentle nod in return was given, but as his vision began to blur, he quickly turned and hid his face. Ashamed and not wanting his father to see him cry, Tristan headed off from the gravesite, across the open prairie to be alone. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed some space to sort out all of his thoughts. So ambling through the tall, feathery grass, he made his way to nowhere in particular.

Deep and daring, the pale blue sky seemed to stretch forever. Stopping to admire it, he craned his neck and looked upward, admiring the puffy and cotton-like clouds. He swore he could feel her spirit, not just around him, but in the air and the sky.

She was at peace now, he could tell, and it was clear she’d appreciated what he’d done. He’d shown her respect with the funeral, given her a send-off that was proper and loving. But at the core of it all, he still felt raw and uneasy.

Recalling the lyrics to a 90’s Temple of the Dog song, he began to sing it in his head.

*Seek out another road ’cause this one has ended abrupt Say hello to heaven, heaven, heaven Say hello to heaven, heaven, heaven, yeah*

Sad yet comforting, the song made him think of Shauna hanging out on the other side, experiencing a kind of happiness she’d never been able to here on earth. For that he was glad, but it still stung like hell to know he was part of the reason that she’d ended it all.

Facing into the wind, he let it blow, flow, and whistle around him. It felt good against his skin, like a soft caress that was healing and kind. Losing himself in the feel of it all, he let his thoughts turn to dust, falling away at his feet. Without even thinking, his hands went to his vest, slipping it off around his shoulders and into the grass. He then undid the clasps of his button up shirt, and from the moment he took it off, a sense of freedom overcame him.

Now shirtless he walked forward, going further into the grassy hills of the big, open land. He had no plan of where to go, only felt like roaming and enjoying the fresh air. He looked up at the sky as he walked, so vast and gorgeous and immense in its span. And staring into its dreamy blue color, he sent out a telepathic message.

*Say hello to heaven for me, Shauna*.

* * * *

It was just after twelve noon when Lucas arrived at Claudia’s house, the well-worn brakes of his Chevy squeaking as he came to a stop. Dressed for the chilly weather, he wore a T-shirt layered with a thick red and black flannel, blue jeans, and lace up black boots. As customary, his beautiful jet black hair was in two long braids, brushing his hipbone with its length.

Exiting the old pickup he made his way to the front door, knocking twice before voices from inside began excitedly chattering. A few seconds later Claudia opened the door, her smile wide and eyes bright as she pulled him inside. Always drawn to her body, Lucas’s eyes dipped down to check out her outfit, which consisted of an off-shoulder sweater, ripped jeans, and floral Doc Marten’s.

Warm and cozy, the house smelled of baked goods. Not surprising, as Claudia’s mother loved to cook, especially sweet stuff like pies and cakes. No sooner had Mona come into his thoughts, did she waddle out of the kitchen with a very pregnant belly.

“Lucas!” Eyes lighting up, she gestured for him to give her a hug. “It’s great to see you, how have you been?”

“Good.” He bayan escort smiled charmingly, but while attempting the hug, found her pregnant belly to be an obstacle he couldn’t avoid.

“Look at me, trying to give you a hug.” She shook her head in amusement. “I keep forgetting there are certain things I just can’t do anymore. Like tie my own shoes, give people hugs, and shave my legs. Luckily I’ve got Big John to do all that for me, or I’d be walking outside with furry legs and bare feet.”

Lightly chuckling, Lucas gave her a sympathetic look. “Well you’re due any day now, aren’t you? I mean your belly is pretty huge, so it’s gotta be ready to come on out.”

Mona responded with a smirk. “Only a month away, but that seems like an eternity to me. If I had it my way, he’d already be out.”

“Oh, It’s a boy?”

“Mom’s guessing,” Claudia chimed in. “She doesn’t know for sure, but says she feels like it’s a male child.”

“I know it is,” she replied. “But Big John just insists that it’s actually a girl.”

“Because it is,” he said while exiting the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand and smears of cooking ingredients on his apron which proclaimed, ‘Mr. Good Lookin’ Is Cookin’.

“Well I’m rooting for both a boy and a girl.” Claudia grinned. “Twins would be a really cool surprise, so I’m crossing my fingers that she pops out a set.”

“Now you know that only one fetus showed up in all of my doctor’s visits. So how on earth could I be having twins?”

“It may not be logical, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing.”

Mona rolled her eyes in a comical way, then lightheartedly waved her hand at Claudia.

“Wishing twins on me now? Girl, you know better than to even think that. One will be a handful enough as it is.”

“So I’ll help. Just say the word, and I’ll babysit anytime.”

“M-hmm…” Mona crookedly smiled, then glanced up at Big John, who was standing right beside her. “You heard the girl, she says she’ll babysit. I say we get it recorded, so she can’t go back on her word.”

“Got a cousin who’s a notary public. Could get him over here right now as an impartial witness to her statement.”

She smirked in return, but Claudia only shook her head in a ‘these adults are so silly’ kind of way.

“Well, I’m all packed and ready to go,” Claudia said to Lucas, motioning to a large duffel bag which was packed with all of her stuff. “For fun, I’m bringing along some playing cards, poker chips, and a small portable radio. Oh, and I also packed us some walkie talkies.”

“Good idea,” Lucas said. “Cell phone coverage probably won’t be available where we’re going, so it was smart of you to bring those along.”

“Where *are* you two going camping, by the way?” Big John asked.

“In a nice little spot I used to go with my dad,” Lucas said. “It’s on the west-side of Glacier National Park.”

“Why not hit up the east-side instead? The terrain isn’t as heavily vegetated, plus there’s more people and wide open areas.”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid.” He lightly smiled. “What I like about the west-side, is that it’s heavily forested and offers a lot more privacy.”

“What do you need privacy for?” Big John’s brows drew downward, as they tended to do when expressing suspicion.

“Well not for anything bad, I just want Claudia and I to have plenty of space, with no one else around to play loud music or throw drunken parties….we just want peace and solitude, you know?”

Softening his expression, Big John nodded. “I get what you mean. But if my vote counts, I’d suggest Chewing Blackbones campground. It’s closer to the rez, and usually populated by only families. I’d really feel better if you took Claudia there instead.”

“Well that’s just a campground, not really the woods. We’re interested in more of a backcountry experience, know what I mean?”

“Kinda dangerous this time of year, what with the cold and all. The woods are nothing to play with, takes an experienced person to be safe out there.”

“I know my way around. Been exploring our woods ever since I was a kid. My dad and grandpa taught me a lot, not only survival techniques but natural first aid. I have a great sense of direction, too. Plus there’s my traditionally long hair, which is sort of a superpower in itself.”

Staring blankly at Lucas, Big John purposely went silent. In response, Lucas continued on.

“Because of course you know the power that lies in uncut hair, and the way it connects us Natives to the earth. My grandfather used to say that long hair is a physical manifestation of the growth of the spirit.”

“I know the importance,” he replied. “Cut my hair as a young man when I went into the military. Felt real strange those years I was forced to keep it buzzed, and when I got out three years later, I immediately grew it back long.”

“There’s a story about the Vietnam War, and how they used Native American trackers…it was said that the ones who had long hair had supernatural abilities. The enemy couldn’t even attack them in their sleep, because the guys sensed danger long before they even heard it coming.”

“And that’s true, Big John said. “Hair acts sort of like an antenna, pulling energy and information from the environment around us.”

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