The Gift
Stephanie's Storyline Chapter 10.6
copyright comidacomida 2019
They released me two days later with no fanfare or celebration; but I didn't want any. I also didn't want to see William ever again, but he was waiting outside the hospital. My parents had been up-to-date on events and, considering he was being labeled as 'my hero', they were all too happy to say hello and thank him for his help.
Although he was attentive and courteous, I could tell that his attention was on me so I wasn't all that surprised when he excused himself and asked if he could have a moment to speak with me. They allowed him, of course, and informed me that they'd be waiting at the truck. As they walked off, both of them looked back at me and smiled.
I said nothing as they left and he waited several more seconds for them to get beyond easy listening-in range before speaking. "It's not every day someone comes to the rescue of a paramedic, you know..."
It sounded like the beginning of a 'thank you', but all I could think of was what I'd lost in the process of saving him. "How could? How could you do that? All of that? What kind of person steals part of someone's brother?"
What I said obviously struck a nerve. I half expected him to point out that Anapa and Kyle had both done the same thing and that what he'd helped Mishupishu do was nothing beyond what they'd done. I fully anticipated that he'd call me a hypocrite or that he'd accuse me of playing favorites or being ignorant to 'the way things really are'. He didn't do any of that. "Ms. Brenner... have you ever heard the story of The Maize Mother?"
I hadn't and, despite how frustrated, angry, confused, and sorrowful I was, the question came as a surprise and so I answered truthfully. "I... haven't."
William looked past me and said something quietly in Algonquain. A moment later I felt a faint chill run up my spine, and the hint of what almost sounded like a gentle purring from far off carried to my ear on the wind. Although William told the story in its native language, I was somehow able to understand it regardless, and I was mystified.
He spoke quietly, but surely. "The first people rose from the foam of the sea on the shore. They were simple, and knew only what they were instructed by an ancient spirit Kloskurbeh, the teacher. Kloskurbeh helped them lead wonderful lives and, before long, humans grew plentiful but, so many in number, they also grew hungry. The first woman, Mother, went to the river to pray, and in her reflection she saw the answer. Returning to her husband, the first man known as Father, she told him that for their children to live he would have to kill her and plant her bones."
William began walking slowly toward the parking lot and I followed after him, partly waiting for him to finish so I'd know where the story was going, but also because I wanted to tell him off and let him know that whatever he was trying to get at had no meaning in my current situation. He continued regardless. "They went to Kloskurbeh to ask what should be done, at which point The Teacher left to meditate, to ask Manitou, the Great Spirit what should be done. When he returned he told Father that Mother was correct; it was Manitou's will."
He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and turned to regard me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "For seven moons, Father stood over the pile of bones and wept but, on the eighth day he saw that, from the bones, sprouted maize. Kloskurbeh explained to Father that Mother had never really died, but she would live forever in the crops. To this day, Mother would rather die than see her children starve, and we are all still fed today by Mother. We may plant extra fish we catch in the cornfields as thanks to Mother, and to remember that we all come from the land and sea."
It was a creation story; I was plenty familiar with them since I'd done few reports in high school on folklore and mythology but it was one I hadn't heard specifically. It's hard to say why, but, for some reason, I wasn't angry at having heard it; I no longer wanted to tell him off. Still, it didn't feel like it connected to my current situation, and I had to ask "So... are you saying that Billy was Mother and that he--"
William shook his head and I found myself falling silent. He raised a hand and brushed my hair out of my eyes. "No, Stephanie... you are Mother. You've given up everything, and continue to sacrifice."
I felt the tears starting. "But... I can't help my friends anymore. I can't see anyone and I can't hear anyone and I--"
My voice was choked up by that point and I had trouble continuing as I cried in earnest. Although I didn't want him to comfort me, the moment he wrapped his arms around me I realized I needed it... and hated it all at once. William, I'd realized, was not an aggressor or a villain... neither was Mishupishu. There was more going on in the world than I knew and, though it hurt to admit it, curing myself of that ignorance was a costly lesson. In the end, however, I had saved him and Mishupishu from a horrible fate, and many others who could have easily become victims of the Wendigo.
William's voice spoke up again after a long pause, but his accent was distinctly different-- Russian. "You cannot see us, or hear us... but you are never alone, my Lapushka."
Pulling away and looking up at William, he was still very much a stranger, but the loving look of adoration in his eyes couldn't have been more known to me. My tears started up all over. "Medved, I--"
I could also see the Bear's smile on William's lips. "Shhh... do not cry, Stefanika... you know I would never wish tears on you."
There were so many things I wanted to say, but the words couldn't get past the tightness in my throat. I could only watch as William leaned forward and I went stiff when his lips met mine. It was a soft kiss... a gentle kiss... and, despite him being clean-shaven, I could have sworn I felt the coarse fur of a muzzle meet my lips. When he pulled back, however, all sense of the familiar was gone and one of his hands, which had been holding mine, pulled away, leaving a small bear statuette behind.
- - - - - - - -
Stephanie leaned back from her laptop, letting out a deep breath as she wiped the tears away from her eyes with one hand while the other pushed her mouse away from her. The internet was not a kind place and the reviews of her book had been generally positive; why was it then that the nasty comments were the ones that affected her the most? Shaking her head, the young woman stood and stepped away from the drama.
In scarcely three months, countless readers had pushed the novel up to the Pacific Northwest Best Seller's list, and she was set to be a guest speaker in one month's time at the Oregon Writer's Association. While the vast majority of readers loved the narrative some people had such trouble enjoying her story, calling it silly, or baseless, or even so outlandish that it was impossible to suspend their disbelief. Somehow she managed to smile; if only the realized that it was all true.
It had been almost four years since Stephanie had last seen any of her Spirit companions. It hurt, but being able to put her experiences down in writing had been cathartic for her, and, while she knew she'd never be able to move on completely, it was a start. Meandering around the room, Stephanie picked up the small wooden bear figurine off its revered place on her fireplace mantle and she pulled it close to her chest. "Ya lyublyu tebya moy medved."
Although she still wasn't as good as a native speaker, Stephanie had made it a point to learn Russian; she wasn't able to interact with Spirits directly any longer, but she knew that the actions she took in life would still be provide for those who remained with her. Based on what she'd learned during her short relationship with William, Medved had never left.
The sound of a fussing child pulled her out of her musings, and Stephanie went directly to her daughter's room. William had been part of her life for almost a year and, although they went their separate ways, he'd provided her many things that she needed at the time; Nadia was probably the most important of those. Despite the late hour, Stephanie's daughter was up and playing with her stuffed animals on her bed with the assistance of a flash light. Even if nothing else in the world could bring a smile to her lips, Nadia never failed. Putting on her best 'mother' tone, Stephanie questioned "Alright, young lady... what's going on here exactly? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Nadia looked up at her, all smiles. "I AM in bed, mama!"
Still fighting to remove the smile from her lips, Stephanie sat down and pulled her daughter close to her. "I know you are, Lapushka... but when it's THIS late and you're in bed you should be sleeping... not playing."
It took almost a half hour to get Nadia settled back in and, once Stephanie had wrestled the flashlight away from her, the little girl finally laid back down and pulled the covers close before asking "Will you sing me our song, mama?"
Stephanie leaned down and kissed her daughter. "Of course."
Despite asking Stephanie to sing it, Nadia was more than happy to sing along too. "Neuklyuzhiy malen'kiy medved' shel po lesu On sobiral sosnovyye shishki i pel pesni Sosnovaya shishka upala pryamo na lob. Malen'kiy medved' razozlilsya i topnul nogoy!"
Nadia giggled once the song was complete and Stephanie leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight, Lapushka."
"Night, mommy."
Stephanie stood up and went to the door, pausing in the doorway for just a moment before she pulled the little wooden bear out of her pocket and set it on Nadia's shelf. She closed the door quietly behind herself and went back to her living room; as she approached her writing desk she noticed that her cell phone had a voice mail message waiting for her. Although she didn't know why, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she grabbed her phone and entered the code to hear it.
The voice was familiar from somewhere, but it became clearer as he spoke longer. "I'm not sure if this number still belongs to the girl who had it several years ago... but if you remember meeting a guy at a coffee shop thanks to... ah... uh... a mutual friend, then I hope you'll remember me. My name is Richard, and, uh... man, I hope this is the right number. I have some guests here who've been looking to talk to you, and they tracked me down to help. Anyway, if this IS the right Stephanie, could you please give me a call?"
Fumbling with her phone, Stephanie went to do just that.
Also, it was very hard making choices with some of the selections being rather vague, not following a particular strategy or how behavioral pattern, so how does one determine which will yield the happy ending?
Sorry, it's just me and happy endings ... I've got so much sadness from loss in my life, that it's hard for me to read about more of it.
Perhaps reader-driven isn't the way to go. I imagine you had your own favorites set of choices, and somewhere along the line, we made bad choices that took us away from a winning ending. If you know what you want to write ahead of time, then perhaps run with it and we'll take it as a whole. I don't like being involved in making the wrong choices that lead to more sadness.
Did really enjoy the entire concept though, as well as those stories that worked out nicely. :)
The vague guidance I provided since the very beginning is that the choices aren't always about the direction, but the motive behind them. Stephanie's story started out as an author-directed story, unlike the other 4 which were reader driven. After the first storyline came to its conclusion readers elected to have a say in this one, hence the direction it took.
As for choices... there aren't really any WRONG ones, per se, as they all lead to a story of their own design, but the ending for this story isn't BAD, per se... it's just not one of the super happy endings. Of course, maybe an epilogue will further reinforce that. We shall see.
PERSONALLY, I would have liked the ending where Stephanie ends up happy with Medved as the father of her daughter but... well... we're kinda getting out in left field at that point with the could-a, should-a, would-a.
Still, thanks for reading, and, if this becomes a graphic novel, I encourage you to make other choices! :D
And perhaps I missed something, but since Stephanie had received the Gift once, why could she not have it again?
-TGU.
-TGU.
Mishupishu is not able to do such a thing, sadly.