A Secret to Everyone
Chapter 17 of The Ballad of Abigail Lambert
They made camp at the base of the mountain. Esperanza remained reticent. Abigail was desperate to reach out to her; there must’ve been some combination of words assorted that would fix what ailed her. However, she found herself paralyzed by the thought of her existence causing collateral damage to the people around her, people she cared for. She found herself paralyzed enough to keep quiet, if only out of fear for making things worse. Not much was said at camp that night, until Yuma broke the silence by taking a seat behind Esperanza.
“I would like to braid your hair,” he told her. “May I?”
Esperanza nodded meekly.
“Death is but a door we step through when we return to our mother,” he said as he separated her hair into four strands. “Our souls will wander until we find our way back to her. The three tiers of heaven: the upper, middle and lower realms, are bound together by the Great Spirit, our father the Sun.” He took the three strands in one hand and tied them together with the fourth strand in his other.
“These are the ties that bind us, Prairie Flower,” he said, ascribing a tribal name to her. “It is in the oneness of this union between our soul and the world that we will find the strength to carry on when those we love are no longer with us.” He finished braiding her hair. She smiled.
“Thank you, Yuma.” She said.
“No. Thank you, Prairie Flower,” he said, “For inspiring me with your strength.”
The next morning, they ascended the trail up the mountain on their horses. They came upon the mouth of a great cavern that led deep within. Yuma slowed up on his horse and dismounted. The girls followed suit. They came upon a cliff overlooking a beautiful, crystal clear spring. Sunlight beat down from a gap in the rocks above, illuminating the spring a brilliant blue. They all sat in a circle on the ground as they watched Yuma mix the sap with ingredients he’d carried with him in his satchel.
“It is important that you two remain here to anchor me,” he said.
“Anchor?” Esperanza asked.
“Drifting between realms can be disorienting if one is not prepared,” he said. “Just make sure I stay on the ground.”
“And how does one prepare?” Abigail asked.
“A sip of this brew,” he explained as he poured himself a cup, “is the closest one can come to death without slipping out of the physical realm.”
Abigail snatched the cup out of his hand and drank it whole. He looked to Esperanza.
“It would seem you will anchor the two of us,” he said.
“How long’s this gonna take to kick in?” Abigail asked.
“There are words to be spoken before travel can commence.” He explained. He looked to Esperanza and had her repeat after him, the incantation in his tribe’s native tongue. He had her whisper the phrases as he lay down on his back. Abigail followed his lead and lay down beside him. Esperanza sat at their heads and continued with the ritual.
“I don’t feel anything,” Abigail said.
“Relax,” he told her, “you must allow yourself to be carried if you wish to go.”
Abigail took a deep breath, and watched as the rocks above their head crumbled and collapsed upward into the sky, giving way to a cosmic starscape of vivid colors. There was no question now that she was feeling something. It was whisper quiet in the heart of the mountain when Abigail floated out from her corporeal form. There was no turning back now. Jules’s bark echoed throughout the heart of the mountain.
“Jules?” Abigail cried out. She could see her just ahead, and Abigail followed the dog into the stars.
“Mommy!” The cries of a young boy echoed throughout the cosmos. Abigail looked around her, but Esperanza and Yuma were nowhere to be found. Just beyond her reach, she could see two children beckoning to her.
“Relax!” The little girl said.
Abigail drifted toward them.
“Am I dying?” She asked them. “Is this it?”
“Hardly!” Her astral son replied.
“I want to be with you,” Abigail told them.
“It is not yet your time,” her astral daughter explained. “There’s still more for you to do.”
“The truth is a secret to everyone!” He cried.
“A secret?” Abigail asked.
The boy emerged beside Abigail’s form, and whispered the truth into her ear. She couldn’t help but be brought to tears, watching them drip upward off her cheeks and far into the stars. She reached out for her astral children, but the further she reached, the further away they became—and she began to fall back to the Earth. She landed in the water at the base of the cliff. At the bottom of the lake, she could see a decaying corpse with an ornate headdress surrounding the skull, feathers fluttering gently in the water. A knife jutted out of its back.
Esperanza dove in and dragged Abigail out onto the rocks as she coughed up water.
“What happened?” Abigail asked.
“You started shouting and ran right off the edge,” Esperanza explained.
“You left the injun up there by his lonesome?”
“Is that how you say thank you?”
“Girls!” Yuma shouted.
They looked up to see him poking his head over the cliff edge. “Good anchoring, Prairie Flower!”
“Thanks!” Esperanza told him. She looked to Abigail. “At least he’s got manners.”
The girls ascended back up to the cliff edge. While the pair of them sat soaking wet, Yuma seemed at peace.
“What did you see?” He asked Abigail.
“The children I never had.” She said.
“And what did they tell you?”
“Death is nothing but an illusion.”
“Then you had a righteous trip!” Yuma smiled.
“If you say so,” Abigail replied, still confused as to what she was supposed to glean from the experience. She was inspired however, for the first time in many years, to not resent the air that presently filled her lungs.
“What about you?” Esperanza asked him.
“My father warned me of a coming storm.” He said.
“No word on how he died?” Abigail asked.
“He could not be so specific.”
“Is it possible he may have died here?” Abigail asked.
“Why do you ask?”
“There’s a body at the bottom of the lake,” she said.
Without so much as a second thought, Yuma took to his feet and dove headfirst off the cliff and into the lake. He swam to its bottom, and spotted the same corpse Abigail had seen during her psychedelic swim. He removed the knife from the body, and took the headdress as well. He ascended with heavy steps up the same path Abigail and Esperanza took to reach the cliff once more.
“This knife belongs to my uncle,” he told them. Knives were sacred items in his tribe, often fashioned from the antlers of fallen deer. Each one was crafted by its owner. When Amaru returned from the vision quest that claimed the life of his father, Yuma found it suspect that he returned with his father’s knife. It was how Amaru convinced the tribe to adopt him as their chief, but with his uncle’s blade currently in hand, this was all Yuma needed to sway the tribe.
“Does that mean he killed him?” Abigail asked.
“It’s as close to proof of his deed as I need,” he said.
They followed the mountain trail on their horses, back down to a fork.
“This is where we part ways,” Yuma said.
“You don’t want us to go with you?” Esperanza asked.
“I have what I need, however I cannot account for Amaru’s actions once I return. There’s no need to endanger you both any further.”
“What if they don’t believe you?” Abigail asked.
“Then my tribe is truly dead, and there is nothing left to save,” he said. “I have hope, though. And I have you both to thank for that.”
“I was wrong about you, Yuma,” Abigail told him. “You’re alright.”
“May the wind guide you home safely,” he said.
“Likewise,” Abigail replied.
Yuma continued on down the trail, back toward his tribe with the truth in hand. Abigail and Esperanza watched him as he rode.
“Memphis ain’t far now,” Abigail told her. “You ready?”
Esperanza nodded and they continued forward. A cold breeze blew in as their journey carried them East.
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