Page 53 of Lily's Eagle

I should get in touch with Cross. His text back to the only one of mine I sent, telling him where we are and that we have no service, strongly suggested I find reliable service, so I think it’s high time I call him.

“There had no cell phones back in the day,” she says.

“Yeah, well, but they could read direction by the stars,” I say. “I can’t. Can you?”

She shakes her head. “We could learn. The whole point of a spirit walk is to test yourself.”

I can just feel I’ll say the wrong thing if I reply to that in any way, especially telling her again that it’s just a walk, so I don’t.

“I’m taking my gun too, just in case. They had those back in the day,” I say and stride over to one of the two trailers, which we’ve claimed as our own.

Clearly she means for us to stay out well past dark, and who knows what prowls these grasslands in the night. I’m sure I’ve heard large things moving while we slept in our cozy bed which takes up most of the small trailer.

My gun is still in its holster at the bottom of my saddle bags, where I packed it before leaving Pleasantville, but my knife, the one my father gave me, with the multicolored beadwork hilt, is not, even though I distinctly remember packing it away in here after I finished using it to cut up the wood for the fish traps and I thought the beads were staring to get loose. Could be I put it somewhere else.

I have another knife, but I don’t want to lose that one. I’ll worry about it later.

She eyes the gun warily as I step outside, but doesn’t say anything. I’m sure she’d rather I left it behind, but after the welcome I got in town, she must also understand that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Let’s go,” she says, shoulders the backpack she’s put all our food in and starts walking. I pick up the blanket from beside the fire pit and follow.

The sun is starting to make its descent towards the horizon, and a cool wind is rising off the river. The grass rustles and hisses as we cut a path through it, filling my nose with its pure, fresh, perfect scent.

The longer we walk, the more I start to feel the world all around us. The rocks, the trees, the gravelly, sandy ground crunching under our feet.

Lily’s right. We don’t need cell phones to find our way out here. I feel more myself and more in touch with the whole wide world than I ever have. And she, walking a couple of steps before me, she’s my beacon, the sign that will always bring me home. Neither of us will ever be lost so long as we’re together.

* * *

LILY

A cool is rising off the river, but the sun is still warm, drying my hair. Actually, I’m sure a lot of the warmth I’m feeling as I wade through knee high grass is actually coming off Eagle, who is walking just behind me.

I could always feel him very clearly, but since I gave into him, into the feelings I’ve always had for him, that’s multiplied ten-fold. I can practically feel every breath in his body as though it’s my own and can definitely feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s just because our hearts beat as one. It sounds silly, maybe, but it’s also an undeniable truth. Our souls have always been entwined. That’s why we’ve never been able to stay apart for long, no matter how we tried. That’s why he followed me here. That’s why I kissed him and claimed him. Because there was never any other way.

I can’t believe that I fought it for so long. That I was able to, if nothing else.

We reach the path that leads along the river, the one we used to set the traps and I steer us along it, even though we don’t need fresh fish where we’re going. But I remember the excitement I felt when my grandfather and I would come check our traps, the anticipation of seeing if any had been caught, and I want to see if we managed to recreate it. We spend most of yesterday making the traps, following the skimpy, childish instructions in the picture book Eagle found in the library.

“Where are they?” I ask as we reach the river. “This is where we put them in.”

“Maybe this isn’t the spot,” he says, looking up and down the bank which looks pretty much identical everywhere.

“It is,” I say and leave it at that. I distinctly remember the two perfectly round rocks sitting next to each other on the shore, because I had a flash that it was Eagle and me, sitting together in eternity. Or some other such girly nonsense, which I don’t want to try and explain to him right now.

“Alright, so maybe the current took them,” he says and starts walking along the river in the direction of the current, looking at the bank intently.

He stops before I even start to follow and crouches down right by the water. “Here.”

I reach him just as he straightens up and turns to me, holding a couple of broken branches and cut rope that we used to make the traps. “Looks like we didn’t secure them well enough and the current took them and smashed them against the rocks.”

I look down at the mess that was our traps. The wood looks snapped in half and the rope cut.

“We didn’t make them sturdy enough,” I say trying to convince myself that it doesn’t mean anything, that it’s not a sign that we’ve failed in any way.

“We’ll make better ones tomorrow,” he say, tosses the broken pieces on the ground and wraps his arm around my shoulder, squeezing me tight before releasing me. “Come on, we’ve got a spirit walk to finish.”

I smile at him, toss my hair back and start walking again. Along the river for a ways and then inland, into the soft grass. Birds are flying overheard, eagles I’m sure, circling and gliding and watching over us.

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