People of the Weeping Eye (North America's Forgotten Past) Read Free

learned that in church.”
    “Then answer me this: Why do people make those little shrines along the roads where someone dies; and then they place more flowers on the grave, and keep a dead person’s possessions? Can the soul be in all those places at once? You know, hanging around the side of the road, at the grave, and in Grandma’s old music box?”
    “The soul goes to God,” he said with authority.
    “Then why are people driven to place memorials in so many places? If it’s not for the different souls of the dead, who’s it for?”
    He screwed his face up, trying to find an answer.
    “Look, uh … What’s your name?”
    “Joshua.”
    “Look, Joshua, you’ve got to learn to think on your own. That’s a gift Breath Giver has imparted to each one of us. All of your life, people like Mr. Roberts are going to be telling you things. Some are true, and some aren’t.” She paused. “I first came here fifty years ago, and I heard something, felt something, and it changed my life. Maybe that’s why you came today.”
    “I came because it’s field day.”
    She lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe. Or perhaps it was Spirit Power that brought you here. Maybe you were sent here today, to meet me, to hear these things because somehow, in spite of all the noise from the radio, movies, and video games, you will remember. Sometime in the future, you’ll say, ‘That old Indian woman taught me to see the world differently.’ And all along, it was Power moving you. Don’t ever underestimate Power.”
    “What’s Power if it isn’t money?”
    “It’s the breath that God breathed into this entire marvelous Creation.”
    She reached into her purse, removing a clay gorget on a string. She made these by the hundreds, pressing a blob of clay into a mold; then she fired the pieces and strung them on fishing line. This one was a simple cross contained in a circle.
    He took it, frowning at the design.
    “The circle is emblematic of the world. The cross portrays the four directions: east, south, west, and north. At the center burns the sacred fire that was given to us by God. You keep that. And years from now, when you hold it, you will remember this day. And, if you’re lucky, how it changed your life.”
    He looked up at her as he ran his fingers over the clay relief. “Do you think this place changed a lot of lives?”
    “Oh, yes. And when you start back to find your teacher, you look around at the mounds, at the open spaces. When you do, look back through time. If you can free your imagination, you’ll see those places full of people, with great buildings, and tall granaries. People lived here in all of the ways humans do. They loved, and fought, and died, and laughed, and cried.”
    She looked at the boy, feeling a shift in time, her souls having the briefest glimpse of the past.
    “Joshua, this was the home of my ancestors.” She spread her arms. “They did marvelous things! Terrible things, filled with blood and pain, and suffering. They took this land, and built a city while living in the fading shadow of Cahokia. If you close your eyes and smell, you can catch the odor of fire and smoke. Treachery occurred here, and undying love. Heroes and cowards walked this very soil. It was a center for people. Living, breathing human beings like you and me. Can you feel it? The blood and spirit, the chaos and beauty? Magic happened.” She pointed. “Just out there, in that river before you.”
    “But it’s gone.”
    “No, it lives. Only your city senses are closed to it.”
    She hesitated, hearing the faint Song from the river. “And, Joshua, if you can empty your mind—cease listening like a white man—you will find that quiet place inside. When you do, you will hear their voices. Even today.”
    He mumbled his thanks and walked away, his eyes fixed on the sacred-fire gorget she’d given him.
    She turned back to the river. The current seemed to swell and shift, eddying sideways and around.
    “Did he understand? Or is