Calling the Beast Read online

  He's so clever... they all are, actually. Bright, funny, full of life... I have to get them all out of here safely. I have to!

  He forced himself to meet their innocent gazes with a welcoming grin. Good morning, he began. We're going to do something a little different, today.

  His announcement elicited a mixed response of groans, exclamations of curiosity, and a skeptically raised eyebrow. Blair took it all in stride, waving them to silence without losing his composure. He'd gotten identical reactions from his undergraduate classes in the past, when he'd begun a lecture in a similar manner.

  He glanced at Marisa and caught the crestfallen expression on her face. Don't worry, Marisa, there's going to be a story, he assured the youngster softly. He saw her eyes light with pleasure. But instead of me doing all the talking, all of you are going to participate.

  Blair let his gaze swing to Freddy, who still looked less than enthused, took a deep breath and launched into his explanation. In one of our first sessions, we talked about why story-telling was important to ancient cultures --

  Because they didn't have TV, Jenny interjected.

  Blair smiled. That's partially correct. Stories were told for entertainment. To make people laugh or cry, he dropped his voice to a whisper. Or tremble in fear. He felt a shiver course down his own spine and forced a grin at the delighted giggles of the children. But they were also used as a form of teaching, so that the tribe's history and beliefs could be passed from one generation to the next. Remember that many cultures had no written form of language for hundreds of years.

  The anthropologist glanced toward Amanda who still stood near the door, the phone cradled to her ear. Blair took a quick breath and plunged on. When the tribe gathered around the communal fire for a celebration or for the simple act of sharing a meal, anyone could be called upon to tell a story, but it was usually the tribe's Shaman who took that role. Do any of you know what a Shaman is?

  A witch doctor, Freddy said quickly with a nasty chuckle. The guy who stuck people in big kettles and shrank their heads.

  Several pairs of eyes grew round in dismay and stared at Blair for reassurance.

  Shaman have been called witch doctors, or Medicine Men -- or Medicine Women, he added quickly, smiling at the girls. But that's because they were healers, not because they practiced some strange black magic, or put spells on their patients. They used -- still use -- what we might think of as unconventional medicines and practices -- herbs and rituals, instead of pills and surgery. But healing isn't the Shaman's only calling. The Shaman is also a teacher and a spiritual leader -- a person who walks not only in this reality, the anthropologist spread his hands to gesture to the room around them, but also in another world -- Where he talks to the spirits of the past.

  Blair looked sharply at Kim, who had spoken, and nodded slowly. The Shaman has the ability to enter what you might call an alternate reality -- a dream world. A Shaman enters that realm to acquire knowledge, power and to help other people. He or she usually has several 'spirits' that they can call upon for help or guidance.

  What kind of spirits? asked Ryan thoughtfully.

  It depends, Blair hedged. Shamans have long believed that their powers were those of the animals, the plants, the sun -- all the basic energies of the universe. In ancient cultures, people were convinced that animals and humans were related -- that they even shared a common speech.

  So what happened? Claire asked. Why can't we talk to each other any more?

  I don't know. Some of the legends suggest that man grew too arrogant, Blair said quietly. That he forgot that all creatures were meant to live in harmony on the earth -- to share its wonders and embrace its differences instead of destroying them. Perhaps it's not that we've lost the ability to speak, but to listen... The grad student glanced at Talan, who was nodding, his eyes focused on something only he could see.

  But a Shaman can still talk to the animals? whispered Marisa hopefully.

  To their spirits, Blair answered, nodding. Many tribes refer to the guardian spirit as a power animal. Sometimes the spirit takes the form of an animal and sometimes that of a human being. In either case, a Shaman relies on his guardian spirits to connect with the power of the animal world, the mammals, birds, fish and other beings. The Shaman has to have a particular guardian in order to do his work, and his guardian helps him in certain special ways.

  Is it only the Shaman who has a guardian spirit?

  Blair met Julia's curious gaze and shook his head. Some tribes thought that every adult had one, but some believed that it was the lack of a guardian spirit that accounted for a person's lack of power or success in life.

  So this is just an adult thing, huh? scoffed Freddy.

  On the contrary, Blair responded. There are many cultures even today, who believe that a child would probably not even reach the age of eight without some protection from a guardian spirit. Traditionally, there was usually some kind of ceremony held for a newly born infant, where the parents would ask the Shaman to 'find' a guardian for their child.

  So we've all got one!

  Blair grinned at Jenny's exclamation. As a matter of fact, I can guarantee we all do -- at least for the next hour or so.

  Blair reached over and opened the box, pulling out the rattle that Emily had designed for him. He hadn't asked for one for himself, so he'd been stunned -- and pleased -- with the animal she'd picked for him. He stared at the painted image of a wolf's piercing gaze and found himself wishing that he really did have the ability to call up the power of this spirit guide. He'd feel a whole lot better with a good set of sharp teeth protecting them.

  The anthropologist held up the painted gourd and gave it a shake. The solid 'ka-chuck, ka-chuck' sound of the dried seeds clattering together inside, raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He tried to ignore the eerie, goose- pimpling sensation as he addressed his students.

  The story I'm going to tell you today, is about a young Shaman who saved a group of children from an enemy attack on their village by calling upon the help of the children's power animals. We're going to call up our spirit guides and then act out the story. A friend of mine helped me make one of these spirit rattles for each of you. If you'll come up one at a time, I'll present you with yours.

  Jenny was the first one on her feet, her sister trailing only a few steps behind. Blair grinned, knowing that he'd chosen well for the impulsive youngster. He handed Jenny a rattle painted with the image of a grasshopper. Perhaps he'll be able to help you find a safe place to land the next time you jump into something without looking first, the grad student murmured. Jenny grinned and gave the rattle a hard shake, her eyes widening in glee at the sound.

  To Julia, Blair handed a rattle that featured the repeated likenesses of an ant.

  My neighbor Tommy has an ant farm, she said quietly, turning the gourd over in her hands as she examined the design. They're incredibly patient. I've watched them for hours, working to move just one grain of wheat back to their nest.

  Ryan came forward as Julia returned to her seat, taking the rattle decorated with a turtle that Blair held out for him. Turtles are patient, too, the youngster remarked. And their means of defending themselves by pulling into their own shells is pretty inventive. They can outwit almost any predator just by waiting them out.

  You're right, Blair answered, wishing he had a shell big enough to hide them all in until the danger that they faced was past. Can you do me a favor and give this one to Amanda? He handed the boy a second rattle, decorated to represent a deer.

  Sure, Teach, Ryan replied. He crossed the center of the circle and tapped Talan on the shoulder in passing. I bet he's got something cool for you, too, he said encouragingly. Go ahead.

  Talan slowly rose to his feet. While he waited out the youngster's approach, Blair's eyes slid to Amanda, eager to observe her reaction to the power animal he'd chosen for her. She took the rattle with a smiled 'thank you', and let it rest in her open palm for a moment, as if appreciating not just the painted d
esign, but also the beauty in the instrument's balance. When she looked up to meet the anthropologist's curious gaze, she managed a tremulous smile. Turning his attention back to Talan, Blair presented the boy with a rattle that featured an emerald green lizard. The youngster took it uncertainly, and for an instant, Blair feared that he had unwittingly made a mistake and chosen a creature that had negative connotations for the youth. He'd selected the lizard for the child specifically because the creature's wisdoms included the ability to face fear, and because of its powers of regeneration -- not just of the body, but of the spirit and hope as well. Amanda had told him that Talan had been adopted by a childless Cascade couple only six months earlier, after his entire family had been wiped out in a bombing attack. The dark eyes that finally met and acknowledged Blair's gaze were wary, but not quite as suspicious as the first time the grad student had met him.

  Thank you, Talan murmured in painstakingly exact English. The workmanship is beautiful. Your friend is truly a wonderful artist.

  I'll be sure to pass along your compliments, Blair said softly. In fact, I'll see if I can't get her to come down next week, so that you can meet her.

  Talan's face broke into a smile, and Blair silently vowed that he would do everything in his power to make sure that pleased expression didn't shift into a mask of fear and horror. He disguised his own unease with a quick glance into the box. Marisa, I have one here with your name on it, he called out.

  The petite blonde was at his side almost instantly. Shyly, she reached out to touch the rattle he held up for her inspection. Emily had outdone herself with the stylized representation of a butterfly.

  It's beautiful, Marisa exclaimed softly. So many colors...

  Hard to believe that such a lovely creature came from a fuzzy old caterpillar, isn't it, Blair said gently. All it needed was some time to come out of its cocoon, just like you.

  The little girl blushed, but smiled brightly. Blair placed the rattle in her outstretched hands and gave them a brief squeeze. The soft 'shusss' of the dried seeds shifting inside, escorted her back to her place on the floor.

  Claire was next, her enthusiasm changing to dismay when she beheld the image painted on her gourd. A frog? Yuck!

  Blair chuckled. Don't be so hasty, Claire. Frogs are singers of songs, just like you. In many myths they're associated with magic, especially the lore of fairies and elves. Because of their connection to water, they're linked to the energies of the moon. I'll have you know that the frog was the animal attributed to the Egyptian goddess Herit, who assisted Isis in her ritual for resurrecting Osiris.

  Brown eyes stared up at him blankly and he laughed again. Too much, huh? Okay, how about this. Besides being blessed with an incredible voice, people with frog totems are known to be very sensitive to the feelings of others. They seem to know instinctively how to act and what to say -- how to be sincerely sympathetic. That better?

  Well... Claire gave the rattle a hard shake. Her face broke into a huge smile at the shifting gurgle of the instrument. It sounds like raindrops! she exclaimed. Or water burbling in a rocky stream.

  Holding the rattle close to her ear, she continued to shake it as she retreated back to her place next to Marisa. Blair reached into the box and when he looked up, Kim was standing quietly before him, hand outstretched.

  One of these days, you're going to have to teach me that trick, Blair said, complimenting the girl on her quiet approach, as he handed off her rattle. I have a friend who can move as soundlessly as a panther, but you'd give him a run for his money.

  The panther is wise in silence, and like the mantis it knows the value of stillness and patience, the girl answered. She traced the pattern of the insect with long graceful fingers. Wisdom is a thing to be treasured, no matter what form it takes. With an ageless smile in her almond-shaped eyes, she nodded her appreciation and turned away.

  Slightly dazed, Blair stared after her for a few seconds, then he shook himself free of the spell her words had cast and glanced around the circle. All of the children had their rattles, except Freddy. Blair beckoned to him. With a resigned sigh, the boy clambered to his feet and shambled forward. He glared at the rattle that the grad student held out for him.

  I'm not a baby. I don't play with baby's toys, he protested.

  It's not a toy, Blair countered. It's a tool. A very powerful tool in the right hands. The anthropologist gave the rattle a hard shake. The sound of the seeds slamming against the inside of the gourd was hard and sharp, fading away to a soft slithering as the dried pellets slipped into the handle. The dragonfly is quick and intelligent. It survives where other creatures would easily perish. Very rarely do you see one of these splattered against a window because it thought it was open sky instead of a reflection.

  The youngster took the rattle and shook it experimentally. Doesn't fall for any bullshit, huh?

  Blair refrained from correcting his language and met the challenging gaze head-on. None.

  Well, I still don't get what we're supposed to do with these, Freddy muttered.

  Simple, Blair answered, rising to his feet and gesturing to the other children to do the same. We're going to 'dance' our animals and invite them for a visit.

  Stuck behind a double-parked delivery truck on a narrow side-street, Ellison pounded on the Ford's steering wheel in frustration and leaned on the horn.

  Move it, NOW! he yelled at the driver, angrily gesturing at the flashing light on his dash. The man quickly crawled into the cab of his truck and pulled the vehicle forward a few feet. It was barely enough clearance for the old pickup, but Jim gunned the motor anyway and sailed through the opening. He took a left at the next corner, cursing under his breath. He'd hoped to save a few minutes with the short-cut and instead it had cost him precious time.

  The Sentinel glanced down at the active cell phone on the seat next to him -- Blair's seat -- and then brought his gaze back to the road. Shifting the headset out of the way, he focused his hearing on the phone. Somehow he managed to keep both eyes on the traffic, and an ear tuned on what was happening on the other end of the line with his partner. He had to filter past the ambient sounds and Amanda's breathing and heartbeat again, but he finally managed to cut through the auditory clutter and home in on his Guide's faint voice.

  // Simple... We're going to 'dance' our animals and invite them for a visit. //

  Jim shook his head in wonder at his partner's inventiveness.

  Inviting spirit guides to dance... only you could come up with something like that, Chief, he mused. I don't know where you're going with this plan of yours, other than down the proverbial rabbit hole, but from the giggles I'm picking up, the kids are buying it. Keep it up... just keep their attention for a little longer...

  Making a sharp right at the next intersection, the Sentinel's fingers clenched even tighter around the steering wheel and he pressed his foot to the accelerator.

  Blair motioned Freddy back to his place in the rough circle and then bent down to turn on his tape player, letting the rhythmic sound of drums fill the room. The anthropologist adjusted the volume, turning it down until the music was an accompaniment, not an intrusion.

  A true Shaman would have a special ritual for 'Calling the Beasts', he explained, straightening to face them. But what it comes down to is simply opening yourself up to the possibility that another world exists, and that it's inhabited by friendly spirits who, like any other creature, appreciate it when you acknowledge their presence. Since we're going to be asking for their help shortly, I think it's a good idea for you to introduce yourselves to your power animals.

  Blair? Marisa's voice was hesitant and her eyes were wide. The animals that live in the dream world... they can't hurt us, can they?

  No sweetie, he hastened to assure her. A power animal or spirit guide wouldn't hurt you. It only comes to you because you need help.

  Not that some dumb butterfly's gonna be able to do much, anyway, Freddy grumbled.

  I bet a spirit guide's power isn't limited by siz
e or form, Julia piped up. Ants are some of the smallest insects in the real world, but they're also some of the strongest.

  It's probably all in how you use whatever power your spirit animal offers that makes the difference, Ryan added thoughtfully.

  You're the science geek, Freddy jeered at the bespectacled boy. You tellin' me you believe in this weird stuff?

  Ryan shrugged. A lot of great scientists were thought to be crazy for their theories about stuff we accept now without a second thought. Gotta keep an open mind. You never know what you're going to discover.

  Pleased that his young charges had answered Freddy's belligerence and doubts with their own words, Blair glanced at Amanda, who had moved closer to their circle. She still held the phone to her ear in a white-knuckled grip, and her eyes told him that nothing had changed. He glanced up at the clock on the wall to the left of the door and repressed a shudder. It was nearly 9:30. Time to get things moving, even if Jim wasn't ready yet. He looked down at the wolf rattle he held in his hands and saw he was clenching it as tightly as Amanda was holding the cell. He forced himself to relax his grip and turned his attention back to the children.

  I want you to close your eyes, then take a deep breath and let it out slowly, he instructed them. Hold the rattles still, don't shake them yet... Now another deep breath, and let it out... good... keep breathing like that... I want you to picture your spirit animal in your mind... it doesn't matter if it looks exactly like the design on your rattle... keep breathing... in... out... When you hear my rattle, start shaking your own... You might want to pretend you're making the sounds your power animal could make... If you feel like moving around you can... try turning in a circle, you never know what direction a spirit might approach from...

  In his own mind's eye, he tried to form the image of the gray wolf that the Sentinel had told him about seeing in a dream -- the entity that Blair gathered was his own spirit guide -- but he knew that he was far too distracted to actually concentrate on the meditative exercise and after a few moments he quit trying. He bent down and hit the record button on the second tape player, then started to shake his own rattle, cueing the children to the next step. With unrestrained zeal, the kids let loose. The room rang with chaotic noise and unabashed giggles and laughter.