In this preview we will introduce the Native American thread throughout the story, and the shaman at the base of the life purpose who realizes Lindsay's timeline is not her own.
Lindsay's great uncle, Herron, lives near Neguac, Maine. He is a man who lives for the sunrise each day, never forgetting to sing his praises from the mountaintops - in his case, the meadow. He is part of her soul group that supports her in deeming her life purpose worthwhile and herself worthy. He knows she must cast off her fears and terror, so she can make this life all she intended as she assists so many hundreds of people with her work for them personally.
Sometimes a breath floats by me An odor from Dreamland sent, Which makes the ghost seem nigh me Of a something that came and went, Of a life lived somewhere, I know not
In what diviner sphere..... A something too vague, could I name it, For others to know:
As though I had lived it and dreamed it, As though I had acted and schemed it Long ago.....
James Russell Lowell, 1819-1891
Beginning in chapter one, Lindsay is having a problem with Uncle Herron already........
One day too soon her time would be exhausted with the pain of her husband dying. Scraping the stir fry from lunch into freezer containers, Lindsay decided she would appreciate these leftovers better then instead of tomorrow. Yes, this was better, another meal saved for when she couldn’t bear to leave his side.
A shadow made her turn toward the stairway. A spring breeze tickled through her and she jumped from her great-uncle standing at the end of the galley kitchen.
“Uncle Herron!” She started toward him. He must have come in the side door. “I must not have heard you-” But she stopped, knowing that though his gaze called her, he wasn’t really there. Gray eyes, as dark as hers. His black hair pulled back, still not a gray strand at eighty-three. She wanted to say that to him. Could he hear her?
The new phone trilled. She squealed and he was gone.
Caller identification listed the steel mill. “Daniel?” she said shrill as the phone then realized she forgot to censor her self. What if this was Sam’s foreman?..................
...............She regretted moving to Koontz Lake, as well as was relieved about the move, because now he took twice as long to get here. But with Daniel around less, there was more time for Sam. Her husband needed her to be with him now. And she would be.
They hung up and she checked where Uncle Herron had stood, then strolled to the front east window, nonchalantly looking for the gray-headed spy (she just noticed). This was a tight lake neighborhood, people in their own yards could seem to be spying, though not from her east or north windows.
No one was outside except a little woman on a Harley taking the corner at the point real slow. She wore a sleeveless plaid flannel shirt, and when she gave the thumbs up sign Lindsay raised a hand to acknowledge her then closed the windows and the layers of lace and sheers.
She covered her two skunks with crib quilts. Itty wiggled off her back to see if Lindsay had seeds, but got a pet instead. “Sleep now,” she said, patting Fern too.
One more time she checked Uncle Herron’s corner of the kitchen, which was by a never used door to the outside and a narrow stairway to three bedrooms. She could say she was being ridiculous, but somehow he had visited her more than a few times in northwest Indiana just this way. When her dad was alive, he swore the old man had died when he visited in spirit, but they would find him still at Miramichi Bay in New Brunswick sometime later. ‘Wait and see,’ said her dad’s voice in her head now. She would have to wait since Uncle Herron didn’t have a telephone or real neighbor.
The phone rang and she recognized the number of a past acquaintance she didn’t want to see ever again. Gooee, who she met in pottery class and had avoided for the last several months, thank goodness. She was not about to answer. But how did that woman get her new unlisted number? She reminded herself to tell Sam and Daniel not to answer anytime Gooee called.
Novel and book: Native American fiction, Uncle Herron, Ojibwa, Midewiwin, good-hearted, Ojibwa Grand Medicine Society, Ojibwe, Micmac, Anishinabe, Sacred Stone People's Lodge, sweat lodge, prayer lodge, shaman, medicine man, the veil, oobe, out of body experience, psychic travel, dream travel, visionary, spiritual, inspirational fiction, women's fiction, romance, bbw romance novels
