Hour Glass by Michelle Rene

Author:Michelle Rene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Calamity Jane, 1856-1903, United States, History--1865-1921, Deadwood (S.D.), Autism, Brothers and sisters, Western stories, Historical fiction, BISAC Fiction / Historical
Publisher: PublishDrive
Published: 2018-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

13

The screaming started before Cage could even show me it was another dream. Immediately, my instinct was to tense, but when the foggy layer lifted, I relaxed all over again. There was nothing to do now but resign myself to whatever the dream had in store. Cage would show me what she wanted to show me. Whatever her reasoning was, there was no getting around that.

The scream came again. It was a desperate thing, that scream, like an animal trapped in a snare. Flower wasn’t yet three years old, but already she acted different from most children. The quiet baby had turned into a reclusive child who hated to be held. It was the one thing all mothers wanted to do for their babies, and Flower hated it with a passion.

I was fishing when I heard her. That panicked scream I only knew to be Flower’s sent me running for home without even pulling up my line. The mad dash to our home took me only minutes, but she was already out of the house and headed for the trees. Cage was right behind her, reaching for her, calling soothing words in her Sioux tongue.

When she grabbed Flower, the girl screeched and pulled away from her mother. Instinct made Cage grab her daughter again and try to hold her close, but she yelled and broke away, slapping at the air in front of and around her. By the time I reached them, Cage had given up and let go of her daughter, tears streaming down her face. Her arms hung limp at her side as she watched Flower run over to a nearby tree and sit on the exposed roots. She rocked back and forth there, hugging her arms around herself. A tiny weeping sound came from inside her.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing happened. I don’t know why she cried.”

Cage looked defeated and tired, yet she looked to her daughter with a visible longing. Every part of her vibrated with the ache to hold her baby, but she stayed put. My own want to comfort Flower told me to go to her as well, but I followed Cage’s lead. In the past, Flower hadn’t wanted me to hold her any more than she wanted anyone else.

“Why is she like this? I don’t understand. Why does she hate us?” I asked.

Cage stiffened a little, then released a calming breath.

“She does not hate us. She is closer to the spirit of the eagle than most people. My daughter, she is blessed.”

The way Cage said the words, I couldn’t tell if she was telling it to me or telling it to herself. Perhaps she was saying it so we both might believe. Either way, she wiped the remaining tears from beneath her eyes and nodded to herself.

“But why can’t we hug her? Why does she hate it?”

“You cannot hug the eagle. Eagles are meant to fly. She feels trapped.”

We stood together watching my sister from afar. She whimpered to herself as she rocked to and fro, upset over something unknown to us.

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