Okay, so I lost my temper earlier and deleted this story from my blog lol. But, after I calmed down I realized I should have left it up. WordPress has been getting on my nerves recently, and so I’ve been wanting to rant and rave at it. Anyway, here’s the story again in all it’s glory.
Call Of The Wild.
Nina strolled down the tree lined street, sniffing appreciatively as she passed a Deli. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet. She turned around and stepped into the deli and grabbed a Ham Salad on Rye. She took it outside and sat at one of the tables shaded by the huge oak trees. Nina had moved to the small town of Holbrook Creek after her Grandmother died, leaving Nina the huge rambling house in her last will and testament. For the last few weeks, Nina had worked hard, stripping the house down and redecorating it to her taste, and cleaning years of dust and grime that her Grandmother had been unable to manage. All that was left to do was to find a few things to hang on the walls of her living room, and then she could make a start on the huge overgrown garden out the back.
As Nina ate, a small store across the street caught her eye. It looked dark, mysterious and inviting. The sign above it read Aberford’s Antiques. Finishing her sandwich, Nina strolled across the road and peered in the window. There were a couple of side tables on spindly legs, a baby’s wooden high chair, and lots of pictures propped up on easels.
Nina walked in through the door and stopped dead staring around her. The place was a treasure trove with different items everywhere. A voice to her left made her jump.
“Good Afternoon, may I help you?”
Nina jumped and turned. A middle aged man walked towards her beaming and holding his hand out.
“You must be new here, I haven’t seen you before” he added.
Nina smiled. “Yes I am, I moved in just a couple of weeks ago.”
“Ahh, how are you liking our town so far? … My name is Gregory, Gregory Aberford.”
“I’m Nina, and I love this town, everyone is so friendly. I’ve been made to feel very welcome so far” she replied.
“Oh yes, we’re a friendly bunch alright, anything we can do to help, we will. Now, are you looking for anything in particular, or are you just browsing?” Asked Gregory.
“Well, I’m just browsing really, but I’m wanting something to put on the walls of my living room. I saw your store from across the street and decided to pop in and have a look around.” She replied.
“Okay, well then, I’ll leave you to look around, if you see anything you like, just give me a shout. I’ll just be in the back.” And smiling once more, Gregory walked towards the back of the store.
Nina wandered between the furniture, running her hand over the top of a walnut dining table. It’s surface gleamed and shone in the filtered sunlight coming in through the window. Everything looked homely and well cared for. As she walked, something on the wall caught her eye and she moved closer for a better look. A label hanging from it claimed it was an authentic Native American Indian Tomahawk It was in beautiful condition. Carefully Nina lifted it down and turned it over in her hands. There were no imperfections that she could see, and if indeed it was authentic, it was quite reasonably priced. In her minds eye, she could see it hanging on her living room wall. A moment later, she headed to the back of the shop to call Mr Gregory Aberford.
Nina stepped back and admired the Tomahawk hanging on her living room wall. It looked perfect in the surroundings of her living room. She resolved to finding more Native Indian artefacts to go with it. Just then, the phone rang. Picking it up, Nina said
“Hello?”
There was no reply.
“Hello?” she repeated a little louder. This time she heard a faint drumming noise. Thoroughly bewildered, she said
“HELLO??”
When the drumming noise didn’t stop, she put the phone down and frowned slightly. Probably someone playing a prank on someone and got the wrong number she thought. Shrugging, she headed out to make a start on the overgrown jungle that was her Garden.
That evening, Nina sat at her Patio table with a glass of wine, tired but happy. She’d made considerable progress in the Garden, and was now able to see more clearly where she would plant shrubs and flowerbeds. A light breeze ran through her hair, and she closed her eyes, savouring it. As her mind wandered, she heard the faint drumming again that she’d heard on the phone, but this time along with it, she heard a male voice. It seemed to be chanting, but she couldn’t make out the words. Nina’s eyes flew open, then widened in shock as she realized she could still hear the drumming and chanting. Standing up, she cocked her head, trying to make out where the voice was coming from. But whenever she stepped towards where it seemed to be coming from, the direction would change. As suddenly as it started, it stopped, and all was silent. Nina decided she must be hearing things because she was tired, and she headed indoors for a relaxing bath before going to bed.
The next morning when Nina headed downstairs, she discovered that the Tomahawk had fallen from the wall during the night, and now lay on the sofa. As she picked it up, she gasped and instinctively let go. It was hot! She stared down at it, and felt a strange tremor run through her body. Could this have something to do with the drumming and chanting she’d heard the night before? She wondered. Slowly she reached down for it again, touching it tentatively. She gasped again. It was cold again. There was no way in hell it could have cooled down that quickly, thought Nina. Something was decidedly strange about it. She placed it back on it’s wall hanging, and looked at it with a troubled expression on her face. Suddenly, she heard the chanting again. Only this time it seemed to be right there in the room with her. Wheeling around, she found herself facing an empty room. The chanting was much clearer now, and Nina intuitively knew it was a Native Indian. Spellbound, she stood and listened. As the chant ended and the voice faded away, Nina drew a huge deep breath. Grabbing her bag, she headed out the door. She was off to see Mr Gregory Aberford.
As Nina walked into Aberfords Antiques, Gregory came towards her with a smile on his face.
“Hello there, nice to see you again Nina.”
Nina didn’t smile back. Instead, she took a deep breath and looking him straight in the eye she said
“Mr Aberford, what do you know about that Tomahawk you sold me yesterday?”
Gregory straightened a little, and Nina saw a wary look in his eyes.
“Not a lot Nina, why do you ask?” he replied.
There was no doubt about it, Nina decided. He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Mr Aberford, I’ve had that Tomahawk less than 24 hours, and it’s causing me problems. I’ve heard drumming and chanting. This morning I came downstairs and it had fallen off the wall onto my sofa. Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it, but when I went to pick it up, I almost burnt my hand. When I reached down to touch it again, it was cold to the touch. There was no way in hell it could have cooled down that quickly. When I placed it back on my wall, I heard chanting again, so loud and clear it seemed to be in the same room as me. When I looked round however, I was by myself, and nobody was in the house with me. You know something Mr Aberford, I know you do. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me, I need to know what’s going on.”
Mr Aberford sighed.
“You’d better come into the back.” He replied. He flipped over the closed sign on the door, locked it, then walked towards the back room, Nina following at his heels.
Once they were both sat, Mr Aberford told his story.
“I only found this out a couple of weeks ago, after I placed the Tomahawk for sale. A well dressed man came in looking for a gift for his wife. She apparently is big into Indian and Tribal things. The man said he wanted something to add to her collection. I showed him the Tomahawk. When he looked at it, his face seemed to blanch. He picked it up and turned it over and over, I thought he was looking for imperfections at first, but really he was checking details. When he finally looked up at me, he asked where I’d gotten it from. I told him I’d bought it from an elderly lady in this town who sold it just before she died a few weeks before. Her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Riley.”
“That tomahawk belonged to my Grandmother?” interrupted Nina, hardly able to believe it.
“Ms Riley was your Grandmother?” asked Gregory, clearly unsettled.
“Yes she was, I moved into her house after she left it to me in her will” replied Nina.
“But please, do carry on” she finished.
“Anyway, this man said he had reason to believe that the Tomahawk is in fact a genuine authentic one that belonged many years ago, to a Native Indian by the name of Pilan. This Native Indian was very well known for his strength and his wisdom. His tomahawk was passed down through many generations of his family. Legend has it that it was this tomahawk that slayed the Indian from a rival tribe, who kidnapped Pilan’s wife. Pilan never saw her alive again, and he died childless at the age of 96. The tribe placed his tomahawk on top of his grave with his marker, just as Pilan requested. The next day it was gone. Nobody knew for sure what had happened to it, some say that Pilan’s Spirit took it with him when he joined the next realm, while others say it was stolen. It is said however that the Spirit of Pilan won’t rest until his Tomahawk is placed back on top of his grave.”
Nina started.
“Are you telling me that the drumming and chanting I’ve heard is the Spirit of this Pilan, trying to tell me that he wants his Tomahawk placing back on top of his grave?
“I don’t know Nina, I can’t answer that” replied Gregory.
“You heard this story from this man,didn’t it occur to you to try and find out where Pilan’s Grave is, and place the Tomahawk back where it obviously belongs?” asked Nina.
Gregory smiled sadly.
“Nina, my store is in trouble. Nobody wants antiques and artefacts anymore. I’m doing all I can to try and keep my store afloat, I don’t have time to go running around looking for Native Indian graves and placing things on top of them that could help to keep my store running.”
Nina stood up.
“Well, if you didn’t want to do it, then it’s obviously up to me to do it instead. The tomahawk is his, and he has every right to it Any idea where I can find out more about this Pilan and where his grave marker might be?” she asked.
“You could try the Library, they have extensive archives. Oh, and Nina, one more thing. You might find some information about him under his other name”
“His other name?” Nina frowned.
“Yes, he was also known by the meaning of his name”
“The meaning of his name ? What was it?” asked Nina.
Gregory smiled again.
“Supreme Essence.”
Nina’s jaw dropped.
Nina groaned to herself and stretched. She’d been in the library for the last two hours reading through the archives. Gregory had been right. The Library had a lot of information on Pilan. It appeared he was quite a legendary Indian in his time. She’d read through all she could find on his life, including the legend of the slaying when a rival tribe indian kidnapped his wife. Apparently, Pilan’s wife had been kidnapped and slain by an Indian from another tribe who was jealous of Pilan. When Pilan got news of his wife’s death, he vowed revenge upon the man who took her life. One day while out hunting, Pilan heard a rustling in the bushes nearby, upon investigating he spotted the indian who was said to have kidnapped his wife. Pilan doubled back and crept up behind him. Raising his tomahawk high above his head, he brought it crashing down, splitting the unfortunate Indians skull clean in half. Years later, on his deathbed, Pilan requested that his Tomahawk be placed on top of his grave, instead of the usual custom of it being buried with him. His tribe granted the request and it was placed on top of his grave. The next day it was gone. The tribe members believed that Pilan took it with him when he joined the next realm. Unfortunately Nina couldn’t find anything on where Pilan might be buried. It seemed his tribe members chose well. Sighing, she began replacing the papers she’d looked at back into their folders. A voice behind her asked
“Hi there, can I help you with anything?”
Nina turned to see a plump elderly lady stood behind her chair
“Oh hi, no no, I was just looking for a little information, but you don’t seem to have it.” She replied
The woman’s face fell a little.
“Oh, are you sure, we do have a lot of information about Pilan.” She said, looking over Nina’s shoulder at the folders on the table
Nina sighed. There was no way around this.
“I have something that belongs to Pilan, I want to return it to his grave, but I can’t find where he might be buried.”
The woman smiled.
“You can’t possibly have anything that belongs to Pilan dear, there’s nothing of his still around, only his ….. “
She broke off staring.
“You have his tomahawk?” she whispered incredually
Nina nodded wordlessly.
The Librarian straightened up as though she’d had a hot poker rammed up her back.
“Meet me here at 5pm and bring that Tomahawk with you.”
“Wait! You know where his grave is?” Called Nina after her, but the Librarian was already walking away towards another customer and didn’t reply.
At 5pm sharp, Nina pulled up outside the Library in her car, to find the Librarian already waiting on the steps. As she got into Nina’s car, Nina reached over into the back seat and grabbed a package wrapped in cloth, and silently handed it to the Librarian. She unwrapped it and stared at it awestruck.
“Oh my” she whispered.
“Where did you get this?” she asked Nina.
Nina explained how she’d gotten it, the story that Mr Aberford had given her, and how she discovered that it had once belonged to her Grandmother.
“It strange sometimes how things find their way back to the family” mused the Librarian.
“You going to tell me where we’re going?’ asked Nina.
The Librarian gave her directions, and Nina pulled out into the traffic.
As they drove, the Librarian, whom Nina had discovered was called Mary, told her how she’d discovered Pilan’s grave.
“My husband and I came upon it quite by accident. We were out walking one day by the river, my husband always liked being near the water. It soothed him, and he had some of his more brilliant ideas down there too. I saw a paper long ago that said that Supreme Essence dwells by Running Water. I never gave any thought to it. Of course at that time, I didn’t know that Pilan was also known as Supreme Essence. But anyway, my husband and I were out walking, and it was a hot day. My husband suggested we take shelter under the trees and walk there. We found a track under the trees and began to follow it as we talked. We must have walked for a mile or more under the trees, just following that track, not knowing where it would lead us. Up ahead and to our left we could hear a waterfall, so decided to head towards that, and come out from under the trees when we drew level with it. As we drew level with the waterfall, the track ended. As my husband and I made out way out of the trees, something caught my eye in a thicket. As I looked again, I saw 4 simple grave markers – wooden crosses. They had feathers and beads on them, signalling that they were indian grave markers. I walked closer to have a look and found names on them all. One of them was Pilan’s.”
Nina gasped.
“So that paper you read that he was buried by Running Water was literal!” she exclaimed.
“Oh yes, and more literal that you know.” replied Mary. As Nina looked at her, she saw a twinkle in Mary’s eyes.
“What do you mean?” asked Nina.
“The Grave Marker next to Pilan’s belongs to an Indian Chief. His name was Running Water.”
For the second time that day Nina’s jaw dropped open.
As Nina pulled the car into the Parking Lot that Mary indicated Nina asked her why she didn’t tell everyone where the Marker was.
“Well, I pondered it, along with my Husband, but of course you see, Pilan is legendary, and many people would go to see his marker. They’d go trampling over his grave, and maybe even steal his marker. We decided that Pilan deserved to rest in peace.”
Nina nodded. Mary’s words made perfect sense to her.
As they found the track, Nina hid the package under her coat in case they should meet anyone along the way. Mary had fallen silent, as if she couldn’t believe she was a part of this. They followed the track, until finally, in the distance, Nina heard the roar of a waterfall. She swallowed hard and slowed her pace slightly, suddenly unsure about the whole thing. Her heart pounded and finally she stopped walking. Mary stopped and looked at her.
“It’s the right thing to do Nina. Give him his Tomahawk back. Let him rest in peace” she whispered solemnly.
Nina drew a deep shuddering breath and expelled it slowly. Then she squared her shoulders and nodded.
“Okay, show me where he rests, lets do this” she replied softly.
Mary smiled and walked forward.
Nina followed Mary as they drew level with the waterfall, and she veered off to the right into a thicket. At first she didn’t see anything, and for a moment, thought Mary had chosen the wrong one. Then, as Mary stepped to one side, Nina saw them. A line of four simple wooden crosses, with feathers and beads exactly as Mary had described, with the names of the occupants burnt into the wood reading downwards. Nina stopped dead, her heart racing, and she felt awestruck. The birds sung in the trees above, and spots of sunlight danced around as a breeze ruffled the tree branches overhead. The roar of the waterfall seemed muffled here, possibly by the tall bushes and shrubs surrounding the graves. It was a beautiful spot, and suddenly Nina’s eyes filled with tears. Mary too looked as though she was fighting tears, and silently, she indicated to Nina which marker was Pilans. As Nina walked towards it, the name became clearer to her.
Supreme Essence.
Nina knelt down in front of the grave, and gently laid her fingers upon the wood, running her fingers over the grain. Taking the package out from under her coat, Nina unwrapped it and the Tomahawk came into clear view. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she laid it down upon Pilan’s grave and whispered
“I think this belongs to you. I return it in the hope that you can now rest in peace.”
Standing up, Mary joined her, and Nina saw that she’d lost her battle with tears. Both women stood standing and looking down on Pilan’s grave for a moment, when a feeling of being watched made them both look up. Standing at the far side of the thicket was a Native Indian in full Indian dress. He wore a full Headdress and his face was lined and looked wise beyond years. He smiled at them gently before turning and walking out of sight. Nina drew another deep breath and glanced back down at Pilan’s grave. She let out a shout startling Mary. When Mary looked down, she knew why.
Pilans Tomahawk had disappeared. He had waited around for the right person to return his Tomahawk, and had reclaimed it before travelling permanently to the next realm. The legend was over.
I do hope you enjoyed reading this. Any comments you have can be left here or over at Retarded Rugrat.
Ciao.
