CHAPTER EIGHT

Tahlako Shikoba

“Hello,” said Trak to the young Native. “Halito.” The Native turned quickly, staring at the man.

“How do you know my language?” His eyes grew wide, and he covered his mouth. “How do I know your language?”

“I’m not sure,” said Trak. “This is a magical place that allows us all to understand one another. My name is Joseph Redhawk, but my friends call me Trak. This is my wife, Lauren.”

“I am Tahlako Shikoba. You married a white woman?” Lauren giggled, shaking her head.

“In this time, it’s often done. There is no shame in it,” said Trak. “I am Navajo. I suspect you are Choctaw.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You are a long way from home.”

“This is my home,” smiled Trak. “Did you live here?”

“No. I don’t think so. I was sent to meet with tribal leaders from the lands around the big river.” Trak nodded, knowing that he was speaking of those around the Mississippi River. He was probably from Mississippi or northern Louisiana.

“Do you remember how you got here?” asked Trak.

“Yes. I was on my horse.” He smiled, looking off into the distance as if to try and find the beast. “He was very fast. Very, very fast.”

“Your name means Eagle Feather. Was your father a chief?”

“Yes. I was destined to become a chief. I came here to speak with the other chiefs to discuss how we would help to control the white men moving into our territories. It looks as though that failed.” Trak couldn’t help but smirk at the young man.

“I’m afraid it did fail. All of it,” said Trak. “Our people were relegated to small reservations, our most rich lands taken from us, the buffalo killed off, and our languages considered outlaw. We are working to make things right. Take heart in the fact that we’ve made a great deal of money in oil.”

“Oil?”

“I’ll explain later,” said Trak.

The young man looked at Lauren, unsure if he should smile at her or not. It seemed odd to have a woman with such light skin and hair so close to him. He’d seen many but never got close to them.

“Do you have questions for me?” asked Lauren.

“Were there no white men that wanted you as their wife?” he asked. Trak stiffened but then realized it was a good question for this young man.

“There were some, but none that loved me like my husband. We’ve been blessed. We had two sets of twins, and our twins have had twins.” The young man’s eyes went wide! He stared at the still slender, lithe body of Lauren, then at Trak.

“You must have been your tribe’s chief,” he said quietly. Trak gave an uncharacteristic laugh, shaking his head.

“No, but we can speak about that later. What happened to you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I was traveling through these lands. This house was not here, nor were those homes. It feels familiar but not the same. As I said, I was here to meet with other tribal chiefs. My horse was tired. I had pushed him too far. We stopped near a watering hole and quenched our thirst. That’s all that I remember.”

“Can you turn for me?” asked Trak. The man slowly turned, and Trak saw what he was looking for. A slit at the back of his shirt.

“I believe you were struck with an arrow,” said Trak. “If you didn’t see the man, I have to believe it was someone within the tribes. White men weren’t as proficient with a bow and arrow as they were with rifles.”

“Why would my own kind, my own people, kill me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You were here for their good, for their business. Maybe someone was going to benefit by allowing the white men to take over your lands.”

The young man’s face fell, his eyes sad, filled with pain. He walked a small circle around Lauren and Trak, staring at the others wandering around.

“Why are there so many dead people walking? What sort of spirit has done this?” Lauren smiled at the young man, wishing she could take his hand, hug him as a mother, comfort him.

“We think that our friend, Irene,” she said, pointing to the older woman, “said or did something that brought all of you here. What we’re discovering is that many of you died in suspect ways. Perhaps we’re supposed to find peace for you.”

“How? How can you do that when I’ve clearly been dead a long time?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Trak. “Let me introduce you to my grandfather. This is Nathan Redhawk. Grandfather, this is Tahlako Shikoba.”

“You are Navajo as well?”

“I am,” nodded the old man. “You are confused.”

“Wouldn’t you be? Suddenly, I appear after being dead for a few years.” Trak, Lauren, and Nathan said nothing. It was already a shock for the young man, but to learn he may have been dead for three hundred years might be harmful. “I’ve been dead for many years. Then I’m here on this land once again. I’m seeing spirits and living, walking side by side. This man tells me that someone shot me in the back with an arrow. Why?”

“We don’t know, but we will find out,” said Nathan. “Trust my grandson and his friends. They will help to free your soul so that you can walk in the spirit world.”

The young man nodded, looking back at Lauren again.

“If I had met you, I would have wanted you for my wife as well. There is a fire around all of you. A glow like the light of the sun as it rises above the water.” Lauren smiled at the young man, but she noticed that Trak and Nathan said nothing, simply looking at everyone around them.

“Is something wrong?” she asked Trak.

“No, little one. Nothing is wrong. We are going to help Eagle Feather to return to the place he belongs.”

“Am I free to walk around this place?” asked the young man.

“You are free to walk wherever the spirits allow you,” said Nathan. “Come with me. Let’s talk and find out if there is something that might help my grandson to help you.”

The young man nodded at the old ghost, then turned back to the Native and his wife.

“You should have been a chief. There is something powerful about you. Something that makes me want to follow you into battle. Even with a white woman beside you.” He walked away, and Lauren smiled at her husband.

“I would follow you anywhere,” she said, kissing his cheek. “He’s sad. Can we help him?”

“I don’t know. It was so long ago, and one dead Indian meant nothing to any white men who were here. Most would have been French, maybe a few others. I’m not sure how we discover anything about him. But I’m going to try.”