A Wicked Beginning (19 page)

“What’s that mean?” Cam inquired. He was starting to get edgy and amped. He really wanted a smoke right now. Maybe he’d have time to step back to the car.

“It means, keep it short, keep it simple, and pray from your heart.”

“Uh, I’m not big on the whole prayer thing to tell the truth.”

“You need to ask for guidance. The star dreamling is very powerful. We have only heard of it in our mythology. Stories tell of a man who was marked by the dreamling, and he became very powerful. He faced three pathways. Two of them lead to his destruction and would destroy all that he loved. The third would not appear to him until he had chosen not to follow the two paths that seemed most appealing.”

“Huh…” Cam said. He remembered the first experience after the star dreamling had ripped his leg open, and he passed out and dreamed of running and running and coming upon two paths. Both had appealed to him. In both the beast had looked like it was going to lunge at him. “And what did the guy do?”

“That part of the story was never told. Perhaps it never happened…until now.”

Cam made an involuntary shudder. “How much time do we have until we enter the lodge?”

“About 30…” the old guy replied.

Just enough time,
Cam thought. Another man walked up to the elder and asked him a question. Cam slipped away to his car.

When he got there, he opened the glove box and removed a cig from the pack. Cupped his hands around the smoke and lit it. Felt a rush of pleasure as the nicotine hit his system. Leaning back against the car, he took some small measure of comfort in his addiction. And then he heard the snarl coming from the woods in front of him. He froze. He looked over to where the snarls came from. Saw the ghost-like eyes he’d seen behind the garage now peering at him through the brush. He took another drag off of the smoke. Felt his heart start to hammer…the fucking thing was between him and the lodge. How was he going to get back there? This whole event was being held for his benefit supposedly. How would that look if he never made it to the lodge? Shit. Shit, shit, and more shit.

He put the cig between his lips and took a step. He heard a low menacing growl. “Easy…” he said softly. Took another step…another growl ensued, this one more menacing than the last. “Alright…” he uttered. “I need to get to the lodge here. I’m just going to move slowly through the woods and get back there, okay?” He must look like a fucking idiot talking to himself right now.

The heat wave pushed through the bushes until it stood…if you could call it that…he couldn’t exactly see it…until it stood directly in front of him. Cam felt the hot breath from the beast puff against his stomach. He watched a long slither of shimmery saliva drip from the beast’s mouth onto his shoe, the moisture congealing on the leather in a slimy pile. His breathing became short and shallow. He brought his hand slowly to his lips and removed the cigarette.
This was a bad idea. A really bad idea… I had to go and resume my addiction and now look.
He dropped the smoke to the dirt. Cam cursed at himself and berated his stupidity.
Fuck, fuck FUCK…what was I thinking? Goddamn it all to hell…
“Okay, I’m an idiot,” he said to the apparition. The beast snarled as if in agreement. The snarling sounds pulsated through his pelvis causing a deep, agonizing ache. Cam moaned in agony.

Next, the dreamling moved and placed two huge, invisible, incredibly heavy paws onto Cam’s shoulders and breathed in his face. Cam strained from the weight of the paws. How could this thing weigh so much? It didn’t seem to be
that
big…not that he could see it. The breath smelled fetid and rank. He thought he was going to gag, the smell was so foul. It felt like the beast’s muzzle was an inch from Cam’s face. The breath was coming in hot, putrid puffs. Bile came up in Cam’s mouth. He was so fucking freaked out right now he was panting, his mouth was dry, his heart was racing, and his mind was a kaleidoscope of rapidly flickering images. He smelled his own rank odor, the whiffs of bodily fear assaulting his nostrils, mixing with the odor of the beast. He wanted to lean over and vomit, but he dared not move. Instead, he swallowed and clenched as the saliva and bile pumped into his throat.

Next the beast closed his mouth and began to sniff. Sniff, sniff, sniff… Sniff, sniff, sniff… Cam became aware of these creepy sensations in his heart, his gut, and his pelvis, like the cat was probing him with his mind or something. He’d feel pressure, then sensation like he’d never experienced. It was weird and invasive. His mind was racing around so frantically he was sure he was going to spin out and faint…any second now…it was just a matter of seconds. But then the fucker could do whatever it wanted to do with him. Cam willed himself to hold on to whatever shred of consciousness he could.

“Hey, Cam…”

Fucking A…it was Mano. “Over here, Mano.” His voice was all shaky and bizarre sounding.

He saw Mano emerge from the woods. Then he stopped and stared at Cam. “Is that what I think it is, bro?”

“I don’t know what you think it is, but yeah, probably.” Cam kept up his panicked wheezing. “I don’t know what to do, Mano. The fuckers got his paws on my shoulders, and he’s breathing in my face. I’m about to hurl, man. This is sick. So sick…it’s my own damn fault.”

“Now’s not the time to figure out who did what, bro. Let me think here.”

“Think, meditate, pray, chant, whatever; get me out of here, man. I’m fucking going to lose it big time in a second. I’m fucking going to lose it.”

“Hang on, let me think.”

Cam watched Mano walk over slowly in his general direction. He looked to the side of where Cam stood. He paused and looked towards the woods. Then he took a couple more steps, never looking towards Cam. Cam knew a woman named Jenn who could track animals that way. She could get real close to them by using this technique.

The beast seemed to be mindful of Mano as its breath left Cam’s face. He felt the heavy paws leave his shoulders and heard the dreamling drop down to the ground with a soft thud. Cam’s legs buckled and he dropped to all fours and pitched the contents of his stomach onto the dirt. After his gut had been emptied, his heaving continued, unrelenting. He was like a sick trembling dog, retching and retching and retching. Sweat dripped off his forehead and neck falling in droplets onto the dirt, mixing in with the vomit. Snot slid from his nose.
Stew of the dog
,
Cam thought in the back of his mind. An
answering thought followed:
What a strange image. I’m losing my mind.

Meanwhile, Mano kept making slow, steady progression in Cam’s direction. At least it was keeping the beast distracted. Cam heard another sound pushing through the woods. Lightning Rod, the youth Cam had greeted earlier, popped out of the woods. “Hey, Mano, Cam… get back here.” The dreamling bolted away from Cam and disappeared into the woods.

Cam lurched to his feet and grasped Mano’s shoulder. “Shit…shit, shit, shit…” He felt all weak and shaky. Stepping back from the pool of vomit, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Come on, brother; let’s get you out of here.”

“What’s the matter with him?” Lightning Rod asked.” He looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

“He has, man. It’s the dreamling.”

The young man’s face blanched, and he quickly walked around to the other side of Cam and put his arm underneath Cam’s arm for support.

“I’m okay,” Cam protested.

“No, you’re not,” Mano stated flatly. He and Lightning Rod walked Cam over to Mano’s truck. They propped him against the side and Mano reached in the cab for some water. “Here, drink this.”

Cam swished some water in his mouth and spit it out. He had to get rid of the foul taste. He rinsed and spit two more times. Then he chugged the rest of the bottle down. He took a couple of slow breaths to calm himself down. “Thanks, man. Really…I’m alright. I’m better.”

Mano eyed him. “This might not be a good idea to sweat. You really took a hit there. You’re weak and dehydrated.”

Cam’s face became hard. “Give me another water…give me two. I’m going to do this thing tonight. You can’t keep me out.”

“Okay, man,” Mano said, shaking his head. He pulled a couple bottles out of the car and handed them to Cam.

Cam chugged the bottles of water down in succession. He nodded to Mano. “Let’s go.”

Cam, Mano, and Lightning Rod stripped and stood in the back of the line of men entering the blanket covered dome. The cool air brought goose bumps to Cam’s flesh, and his cock and balls did the ‘shrivel and shrink’ dance. Whatever…this was sure no time to impress anyone. Lightning Rod stood in front of Cam; Mano was behind him. When they reached the dome, Lightning Rod crouched down and entered, uttering “Mitakuye Oyasin.” Cam entered mumbling something unintelligible. Mano came in last. The flap was lowered and darkness surrounded them, immersing them in the fragrance of dirt, sage, and sweat.

Cam observed the glowing rocks in the pit. He thought he saw the rock he had picked up on the first night. Now it seemed to be leering at him.
Get a grip.
The heat was extreme. His mind began to race.

The elder picked up a prayer pipe. He prayed to some entity and fit the pieces together. He placed tobacco in the bowl and tamped it down with his thumb. Picking up a long piece of dried straw, he lit the end from the hot rocks and brought the tiny torch to the pipe. Puffing on the tobacco, he blew the smoke towards the roof of the dome. Then he handed it to the fellow next to him. “Send your prayers out with the smoke. The smoke will unfurl into the Universe and touch the ears of the Wakan Tanka. All prayers will be heard and answered.”

Cam sat with his legs bent, his arms leaning over his knees, one hand resting on the other. The heat was starting to build, lighting up his genitals. He tried to tuck his feet closer to protect them.

Mano gave him a bump and handed him the pipe. He leaned close and said, “Take small puffs, pray with your heart, and exhale to the spirits. Don’t suck it up. If you don’t want to smoke, you can just hold the pipe to your heart.”

Oh, he wanted to smoke, alright, but knew this was different. He gingerly held the pipe stem with both hands. It felt kind of like it was alive. It seemed weighted, heavy. He brought the pipe to his lips and took a few tentative puffs. This tobacco tasted sweet and rich. It didn’t taste like, didn’t feel like sucking on a cig. It seemed, well…it seemed reverent. As he puffed, a thought formed in his heart.
Help me understand what the dreamling wants with me. Help me understand. Help me become a better man from this. Help me grow in knowledge. And please help me be a good man to Chérie.
He blew the smoke out in a skyward stream before handing the pipe to Lightning Rod.

This whole scene was weird, Cam noted, as Lightning Rod took his turn with the pipe. His mind was busy, notating, cataloging, observing… What the fuck was he doing in here? What the fuck had happened out there? He could still feel the places in his body where the dreamling had probed. He still remembered the ache in his pelvis from the cat’s breath. His leg started to make the sewing machine maneuver, pumping up and down. He felt Mano nudge his leg, and he stopped.

In the darkness, all the men looked like specters, their faces lit in an orange glow. It was kind of eerie. That prayer thing was kind of cool, though. He didn’t think he was a praying kind of guy but still… Blowing his prayer out on a stream of tobacco felt righteous.

He observed Lightning Rod hand the pipe back to the elder. The wizened man placed it gently into a large pouch, picked up a cup, and dipped into a bucket of water. Singing in a language Cam did not understand, the water was poured onto the stones. Instantly, moist, searing heat filled the lodge. His body, which was already sweating, now was seeping water out of every pore. He imagined himself to be a scorching hot waterfall in his own tiny universe of Hell.

Some of the men joined in the singing. Some made a shout or two. Cam kept repeating in his mind,
Help me understand. Help me grow.
The heat was fucking intense. The small dome seemed to contract with the chaos here, the chaos of men’s prayers and dreams being sung, shouted, muttered, and thought out into the heavens. The noise seemed to grow in a crescendo until abruptly the flap was opened and a loud “Mitakuye Oyasin” was uttered.

Cool air rushed into the space. Cam was relieved. He was sitting close to the door and got a good gust or two. No one moved. No one spoke. The rocks glowed softly. A few more were brought in. After several moments, the flap was lowered and the process began again.

The second and third round proceeded like the first. Different songs were sung, but the process was the same. Sing, sweat, chant, pray, let it all out in a sacred purge. On the fourth round, the elder spoke before spilling water onto the stones. “Let these prayers be your finest…and your shortest...it’s hot in here.” Someone sniggered.

This was an endurance run if ever there were one. By this point, Cam felt stranger than he had ever felt in his life. His body was exhausted and weak. His mind felt empty. He had prayed, not prayed, heard prayers, and heard songs, all the while wishing he could reach behind him and punch a hole through the blankets and welcome the cool air onto his body. Looking over into the pit, he noticed the rock…that same rock that he had picked up on the first day…staring at him with what appeared to be menace. He cocked his head to the side and stared back at it.
Strange...Fucking strange…
Must be the fatigue causing him to see things.