The sun was almost down in the west when the sing song chant began. Drums soon took up the call and the sound increased as more and more people joined in. Ted and Nate had been checking the cameras, wondering where Evan and Denny had gone. But that was soon answered as the flaps on their tent opened and they stepped out.

"It's beginning," Nate said. "They'll light the fires when the prayer chant is done."

With that he took off in a hurry with Ted right on his heels. Evan and Denny checked out their equipment and Denny made sure the recording was still active, it had been running all afternoon. She gauged the amount of space left in the hard drive and decided it was enough for another four hours. Then they followed the boys.

A group of elders stood beside the stacks of firewood and led the singing. Nate knew the prayers were for the spirits of the trees they would burn and to praise the Creator for the blessings they had all received this past year. Four young boys were lined up before the elders and each of them held an unlit torch…and then the song ended.

In ancient Cherokee tradition there was always one man in each village assigned to keep the sacred fire burning in the townhouse. The modern world handed that tradition to anyone with a Bic lighter, but not here. A man knelt down and struck flint and steel together, the sparks dropping into a pile of soft dry grasses. On the fourth strike the man picked up the grass and gently blew into it, and smoke billowed.

He gently placed the burning grass into a small pile of kindling and blew on it once again. A great shout went up as the kindling began to burn, the sacred fire was lit. Now the boys with their torches stepped forward and lit them from the fire. Then as had been rehearsed they each ran to one of the four stacks and thrust their torches under the pile of wood.

Like magic the stacks burst into flame, aided by a huge pile of dried grasses placed underneath…and maybe a little kerosene. The bonfires all shot up at the same time, it was all about the show. Ted and Nate both caught the opening, and then the party really began.

The older crowd watched as the young ones whooped it up dancing around the fires in adolescent fervor. A myriad of faces in the glow of the rising flames, Ted couldn't get enough of it. Bright eyes reflecting the fire, smiles and laughter. Couples standing with their children and babies. The Tsalagi were a beautiful people, as were the strangers from across the country who stood in their midst.

The community had welcomed these others to share the warmth of their fires. Tradition dictated hospitality, and these distant brothers of native origin were here to share their feelings as well, all were welcome. These were the things Ted saw thru the camera's eye and he felt such a warm emotional response from within.

As a culture, and a race apart from the white man who surrounded them, these people had such enviable traits. Many clung to the old ways, and yet most did not. But the respect for their past allowed them to seek a future together, and that was evident tonight.

Ted had studied little about Native Americans, and he had since learned most of it was presented in ignorance. The emphasis in modern culture was on the Africans brought bound in chains to the Americas, and then sold into slavery. They were prized and cultivated like the crops they tended because they had value. The natives were not so lucky.

The ancestors of the people around him had been hunted and shot, dragged from their homelands and piled like stones in some distant reservation unfit for habitation. Their children were stolen from them and forced into institutions, forbidden to learn or speak the language of their fathers and mothers. It was like the original people of this land were made to disappear and become forgotten.

But here they were, and Ted could see that the traditional Cherokee ways had not faded; they were brought forward at important times like these. His own father had sometimes mentioned their ancestry in Europe, but the references were distant, unimportant. Here he could see a father place a hand on his son's shoulder and point at something, and he knew another piece of the tradition was being carried on.

Nate was eager to be a part of this; Ted could see it in his eyes. This was something the boy could grasp, and best of all; he was willing to share it with those he loved. He had seen Nate sitting with Marshall earlier, and something had told him to stay away. Nate was entitled to his private moments.

Darkness had fallen, leaving the fairgrounds a place of deep shadows away from the fires. Ted could still see the hundreds of people and the colors, for many of the dancers had worn some semblance of a costume. He saw Nate wandering through the crowd and eventually they came together.

"Having fun?" Nate asked.

"Oh yeah, and you?"

"I've met some people I haven't seen in a long time and a few girls from my school," Nate replied.

"What will they do when the fires burn down?" Ted asked.

"They'll turn on the lights so people can find their way out of here. This won't last all night, tomorrow is a big day for games and dancing. Have you had enough?" Nate asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"I agree, we'll be up early…I wonder where Evan and Denny are?"

Ted laughed. "Like this afternoon…probably in their tent."

Nate smiled. "Yeah, I got that too. I like her, he ought to go for it and ask her."

"I think he will; they'd make a nice couple."

They wandered back to the campsite, noticing that no one was about in Marshall's site. Their own fire was out and so they crawled into the tent and turned on the lantern. Nate unzipped the rear window which allowed the cool breeze to blow in from the trees behind them.

"Hmm, that feels good," Ted said.

"Might get cold later, but I'll keep you warm."

The distant shouts of people in the night were all they heard as they undressed and turned out the light before they lay down. There was something especially grand about the feelings of passion while hundreds of people surrounded their island of privacy.

With Nate between his legs Ted remembered that first time they had come together, the Qualla would always have a special place in his mind because of that. Nate had become a practiced lover, his strokes slow and languorous, allowing Ted's pleasure to build. They had come a long way in such a short time, and they had a long way to go.

The lights on poles around the fairgrounds began to come on, filling the side of the tent with a pale glow. Ted looked up at Nate's face and saw his own passion reflected in those eyes. So far their lovemaking had been silent, the tent walls too thin to allow anything else. But Nate groaned as he reached orgasm and then leaned down to share a kiss.

It didn't end there, it never ended there. Nate slowly withdrew and trailed his tongue down Ted's stomach until he captured his prize. Sometimes his reward would come soon after he began, it didn't matter. Experience had shown them that once was not enough…their commitment was shared several times in the night.

They lay back in an embrace and dozed off as lovers often do when the moments of sharing are done. Today's work had brought them one step closer to the end of the filming. Evan had assured them they would know when the moment arrived, and then they could begin to assemble the presentation.

There were hours left to put together that part they had begun to call the time machine. Still pictures taken of generations past, Joseph had thousands, a hundred years or so of ancient photographs. They would set up in the back room of the museum for several days and capture the images. Eight minutes of film time would take hours to produce, and they had planned three such sequences.

Without Evan the technical development of the film could never have been achieved. Both the development and the final product were in his capable hands. For Nate and Ted it was becoming the experience of a lifetime.

Nate awoke some time later, the lights had been turned out on the fairgrounds and yet a sound had awakened him. Ted had rolled away from him so he sat up and looked out the window facing Marshall's campsite. He could see figures huddled around the fire pit, Marshall and his shaman friends.

He wondered how they would respond to the story of Marshall's ghosts; did any of them have similar experiences? The spirit world was their domain, and yet he was sure Marshall was more intimate with it than any of them. Maybe he would be told the results; it was not his place to question. Nate lay back down and slept.

Again a sound awoke him, closer now, right outside the tent. Animal sounds, sniffing…and then a scratch at the tent flaps. Ted was oblivious to it so Nate sat up and crawled over to the opening. He slowly unzipped the door flaps and a muzzle poked under…Gihli.

Nate opened the doorway and the dog crawled inside and began licking his hand.

"You want to sleep here?" Nate asked, and she lay down beside him with a sigh. Nate rolled over and laid his arm across her flanks, she licked him again and he snuggled up to her. She smelled of wood smoke and tobacco as his fingers stroked through her fur. Nate slid his hand up to her neck and encountered…the necklace.

This wasn't Gihli…it was Waya. The shock went through Nate's mind just as the wolf licked his hand yet again. Why would he leave the circle? And then Nate remembered the rabbits, he had gone out to hunt. Maybe the gathering of shamans had made him nervous…it didn't matter. Waya had come here seeking comfort, and Nate just hoped that Ted didn't wake up any time soon.

Finally the sound of birds in the trees behind them woke Nate before the dawn. The air coming through the window was almost cold and he shivered, Waya's warmth had departed. Nate sat up and zipped the door flap shut, no…he hadn't dreamed that encounter.

Waya had come to him; he had held a wolf in his arms and slept. First bears and now a wolf, Nate could only believe there was a message in all this. 'Maybe you were meant to be a shaman,' Marshall had said. But he felt no urge to follow that path. This empathy with the animal spirits was just a thing…wasn't it?

The birds were loud, he couldn't return to sleep. Nate got up and dressed, careful not to awaken Ted. He unzipped the flap and slid out, and then walked around behind the tent to water a tree. He would build a fire and boil water for coffee, which would be possible if he could find any firewood in the dark.

Gihli appeared and licked the side of his face. Nate slid a hand to her neck and checked to make sure it was her. There were only a few stray pieces of kindling by the fire pit but he assembled them and got some newspaper from the Jeep to get it going. The sky in the east was showing traces of the dawn and Nate could see movement down the road at other campsites.

Gihli got up and walked back over to Marshall's site. Nate walked back to the tree line looking for some firewood. The Pow Wow Committee had provided some stacks of wood set out at various points and he found one, loading his arms with enough to cook breakfast.

He soon had a good fire going and set out his pot of water to boil. A noise over at Marshall's and he looked up to see Little Wolf setting his own fire. Nate walked over and noticed several rabbits hanging on the side of the yurt, Waya had been hunting. Little Wolf raised a hand in greeting and Nate walked right up and hugged the guy.

"You gave me peace last night, thank you," Nate said.

Little Wolf smiled and laid a hand on Nate's chest in a gesture of love. He made a sign for eating and Nate pointed back to his own camp, Little Wolf nodded and returned to his fire. Ted stepped out of the tent and Nate walked back to make the coffee.

A truck quietly rolled down the road collecting trash from the barrels and the fairgrounds began to see the haze from dozens of fires just as the sun popped up. Ted helped him pull their cooking gear from the Jeep and they laid out the ingredients on the table. They were both on their second cup of coffee when Evan and Denny appeared.

"Do they have showers set up?" Denny asked.

"I think they do, in the ladies building down there," Nate said, pointing at the cinderblock building down the road.

"That's where I'll be," Denny said.

"We'll shower after breakfast," Ted said.

"Agreed," Nate replied.

It would be another hot day so they went about setting up the camp awning Bill had given them to use, and then moved the table and chairs in under it. When Denny returned Evan was up and Nate made eggs while Ted fried the bacon on the other side of the fire grate, and then they sat down to eat.

The ball game would start at nine and run in shifts until lunch time, Nate wanted to film the ceremonies before the games.

"They need water for that, don't they?" Ted asked.

"Bob said they would assemble at the river across the road for the ceremony and then parade back before the games. I want to capture the blessing and the ritual bath; it will probably be the biggest gathering of shamans we'll see here."

"Cool," Evan said. "Is everyone having as much fun with this as I am?"

The nods went around the table.

Just after eight they walked down the road to the Travers site, which was now filled with human 'buffalo.' Billy greeted them with a smile and clapped Ted on the back.

"Sure you won't play with us?" He asked.

Ted looked at the bulk of the players and shook his head. "No…being crushed isn't on my agenda today."

Billy laughed. "OK, then wear these to give me good luck." With that he slid a touristy bead and feather necklace around Ted's neck.

A few minutes later the team began to move out and Bob walked over.

"You coming to the river with us?" He asked.

"Yes, I think the blessing is an important tradition to capture," Nate said.

Denny clipped a microphone on the inside of Bob's shirt, hoping the beadwork wouldn't rub against it and make noise. She showed him the on and off switch and told him it was currently on and recording. Then they followed the players.

Four teams were assembled in the field beside the river. Across the rushing waters stood Island Park, one of the popular tourist destinations. The tourists who knew of the events were already gathered to watch so there was quite a crowd surrounding the field.

A slow parade of four shamans approached, Marshall wasn't among them. Some wore the traditional turbans; others just had feathers in their hair. Ted was surprised to see a women in their midst, but being a shaman wasn't solely a male honor. The position of Principal Chief in the Qualla had been a woman only a few years before.

Their long beaded aprons and numerous necklaces of beads, bone and feathers gave them distinction. They reached the banks of the river and split up, spreading themselves out until they were hundreds of feet apart. Each turned to face the water and then cried out; the teams gave a shout and then lined up behind each of the shamans.

They were filming this from three different angles and for the first time they were each wearing the wireless headsets which allowed them to communicate, and more importantly… coordinate. Ted stayed with the shamans, Nate and Evan on the players.

Each shaman began a long shouted exhortation to their players, the words incomprehensible.

"What are they saying," Ted asked.

"Pep talk," Nate responded.

"Bob said they would list the great qualities of their team and then bad mouth the other teams," Evan said.

"Sounds like the NFL," Ted snickered.

"Shh, I don't wanna miss this," Nate said.

The harangue went on for about five minutes and then the shamans gestured for the players to step into the river. The water was shallow here, and no doubt cold as hell. Again there were the shouted prayers as the players did what could only be described as pushups in the water, immersing themselves seven times before scrambling out.

Each team was led to a different part of the field where the shamans continued to talk with them. Bob walked up to his team members with towels and a bucket of something. Ted filmed Billy drying himself off and than taking a handful of something from the bucket. The grease, only now Ted was sure it wasn't from bears.

The players all glistened and gave one another high fives as the ceremony ended. Now four separate teams walked back across the road, and they stayed apart. Ted stayed with the Wolf team, deciding that keeping track of Billy would give his portion of the film some empathy. Bob walked amidst his team, checking the sticks and selecting three balls for the play.

The drivers were neutral, meaning not members of either clan or village. And at the sound of a drum the players took the field, and that was the last moment Ted could clearly remember. He was caught up in the chaos of the game between the Eastern Band and the Crow Nation.

A dozen men per side began the game and within half an hour points had been scored and the teams were down a few players with strains and sprains. By then Ted had determined that the bleachers were the only safe place on the field. Several runs of the ball had spilled into the sidelines, knocking spectators down until the drivers took the ball out of play.

It was no different at the other end of the field where Evan was engaged in filming the other game between the Lakota team and the Cherokee Nation. The play on the field might be rough and damaging, but when it was all over the players would shake hands and share a beer…or two.

After over an hour of play Bob's team and the Cherokee Nation team had scored the required number of goals, they would be in the playoffs tomorrow morning. It was a happy bunch of guys that retired to Bob's campsite. Nate and Ted took the cameras back to the trailer, shutting down the recording units. Then they wandered off towards the town for some lunch.

"Wonder where Evan and Denny went?" Nate asked.

"Tent?" Ted laughed.

"Damn, we're not that bad…are we?"

"We could be."

The town was packed with people and the food service outlets looked strained to the limit trying to accommodate them all. They finally managed to slip into the Dairy Queen for a hamburger and fries. There was sandwich stuff at the site, but they needed to get away from all that for a while. Tonight they were going to grill the chicken Evan had brought.

They sat along the wall away from the lines of new customers, most of them tourists. Couples with kids, a few college students, the town seemed to attract most everyone. This little girl was sitting across the aisle with her parents and little brother and she kept eyeing Ted.

"I think she's admiring your necklace," Nate said.

Sure enough, the little one slid out of her seat and walked over to Ted. "Are you an Indian?" She asked.

"No, I'm not…but he is," Ted replied, pointing at Nate.

She turned to look at Nate. "Are you really an Indian?"

"I'm a Cherokee," Nate said. "And what are you?"

She seemed to think for a moment and then she smiled. "I'm Irish as Paddy's pig, my daddy says."

Nate and Ted laughed, as did all those within hearing range. Her mother walked over and apologized for the disturbance. Ted told her it was nothing bad, and then gave the little girl the necklace he was wearing.

They walked the streets until one, and then headed back to catch the kids in their dance competition at two o'clock. They ran into Joseph on the way who said he had to be one of the judges of the kids dancing. Nate laughed and told him the Ross boys were going to present the Little Bear dance. Joseph smiled and said if they did it well he would award them a special prize.

The stage for the competitions was all set up by the time they got back and they returned to the trailer for cameras. Denny was there sitting on a stool inside the trailer listening to the recordings.

"Hi, guys…so far so good," She said. "What are you up to?"

"We're going to start filming the competitions, are we still recording?" Nate asked.

"Yeah, we have plenty of room left in the hard drive."

"Where's Evan?" Ted asked.

"Out with a camera somewhere, he wanted a long shot of the fairgrounds," Denny said.

Nate looked up at the hillside. "Hope he's careful, the man doesn't even know what poison ivy looks like."

Denny smiled. "He'll be fine. Evan would hang upside down in a tree for the right shot, he'll be back soon."

"We're going to film the kids in competition, he can find us there," Ted said, and they took off.

The bleachers were filling with parents and tourists, but off to one side was a shelter set up. Nate pointed at the wheelchairs in a row under the awning.

"I bet we'll find Granny Huhu over there, we need to pay our respects."

Ted followed him as Nate wove his way through the crowd, and sure enough, Granny was sitting in the middle of the elders, attended by Mrs. Ross. Nate walked up and squatted down so she could see his face.

"O'siyo, Ulisi Huhu…how are you?" Nate asked.

"Ahh, Little Bear…I am well, and yourself?" Granny replied.

"I'm fine…and how is your family?"

"The little ones dance today, but I'm sure you know that."

"Ted and I are here to photograph them," Nate said.

"Good…good. O'siyo, Seyodowa."

"Hello, Granny Huhu," Ted said.

"Such a fine gathering of The People and their friends, it warms my heart," Granny said. "I'm glad to see your faces again. Will you come show me pictures of my grandchildren when you are done?"

"I promise we will," Nate said.

"She loves photographs," Mrs. Ross said.

"I'll make sure she gets some the next time we come up to the Qualla. But we have to go and set up for the dancing, it's so nice to see you both."

"Thank you, Nathaniel," Mrs. Ross said.

"Goodbye, Ulisi…we will come visit you very soon," Nate said.

Granny grasped his hand with a smile and turned her head back towards the stage. Of all the elders under the shelter she looked the oldest, and yet she seemed to exude strength.

The area behind the stage was milling with young performers, dozens of them. Kids were dressed in every possible combination of costume. The bright colors blazing in the afternoon sunlight was a photographer's dream. So many different tribal outfits, a truly wonderful spectacle.

The announcer began calling off a list of dances which were to be presented and first up was the hoop dance. From what Nate understood of the garbled voice the dancers would each be given three minutes to perform.

Nate took a spot on the bleachers to be above the level of the stage while Ted roamed the sidelines. Four boys walked out on stage and the drumming began. Ted could see Abner and Thomas waiting in the wings, they would be in the second batch.

The first group did pretty well so the competition would be tough, but Abner put his skills on display with three hoops and some very fancy footwork. The audience reaction was loud and long when they were done. And so it went, kids of all ages performing various dances for the next two hours.

Nate wondered when the Ross boys would get their chance, and they did just at the end of the competition. The announcer introduced them and gave a little narrative about the story. There was applause and the boys took to the stage in their costumes.

Mrs. Ross had made them all some fine looking costumes. James and Michael were in bear costumes that covered their legs, arms and torso. The bear heads looked very real from a distance. Lenny was half bear and half boy, the furry head and floppy ears was just so damn cute.

The bears started dancing on one side and Lenny on the other until they met in the middle and enacted the story much as Nate had seen it before. And as the bears danced off stage Lenny took a bow to the accolades of the audience in the bleachers. It was then that Joseph walked on stage with a microphone in hand, followed by James and Michael.

The three boys stood nervously as Joseph explained the originality of the dance and the story behind it. Nate was afraid that Joseph would point him out in the crowd but he didn't. Instead he announced that the boys were to be given the Storyteller Award by the museum and a hundred dollar cash prize for each of them.

The audience voiced its approval and Lenny beamed with pride as Joseph handed him an envelope.

"Did you get all that?" Ted asked in Nate's earpiece.

"Every second, they were awesome," Nate replied.

"I have a prize for my Little Bear when we get back to the tent," Ted said.

"Oh hush…later, we have work to do," Nate laughed.

The men and women took the stage for the next four hours, right on through dinner time. The corn dance, smoke dance, chicken dance and finally the adult hoop dance gave the audience a lot to look at. By then the announcer had managed to convey the winners of earlier competitions for the finals tomorrow. Both Abner Ross and the Lakota boy Cansasa were in the finals for the teen hoop dance.

Evan had joined them around five, saying that Denny had remained in camp to make them all dinner. It was a tired crew that returned to the tents after a day in the sun and hours of filming. They placed the cameras and a stack of storage disks in the trailer, Evan took the battery packs over to the office for charging.

Denny had not only grilled the chicken herself but had laid out a spread of salads and vegetables as well. They fell on the food like a hungry pack of wolves.

"I went up that hill to get a good shot of the whole place," Evan told them. "Took me an hour of climbing."

"Nate was afraid you'd fall off the mountain," Denny said.

"Me?" Evan laughed. "That's just a little hill." And then he proceeded to enlighten them about the years of rock climbing in New England and the Sierra's out west. Small details he'd left out of his earlier conversations with the boys.

"So…did you get the shot?" Ted asked.

"Had to go way up just to get a view over the trees. But yeah, a nice clean view of the whole town too. Ted, you look a little cooked," Evan said.

"There wasn't much shade where I was," Ted admitted.

The drumming started up again around eight, about an hour before the bonfires were due to be lit. This would be a late night of dancing and ceremony around the fires, but Nate was more interested in the story circles. For as the adults partied, the kids would be gathered around an elder who would tell the old traditional stories and explain their meaning.

The establishment of Cherokee language classes at the schools facilitated moments like these. Although many of the stories would be told in English, a good deal of Cherokee was used in the telling. And then they would all see the shamans stand up and give prayers for the continued peace of the people. Marshall would be a part of that gathering.

Nate hadn't spoken to Marshall all day, he was almost afraid to. Every now and then he would look at his hand and wonder why it hadn't been burnt. If Marshall had used him as a conduit for his magic then it had been a display of amazing power. But one look at Little Wolf told him that Marshall controlled more magical ability than anyone could fathom.

Maybe his ability with the animal spirits was a display of his own magic, but Nate was still unsure what that meant. He just hoped that Marshall wouldn't do anything controversial tonight. But he was a showman, and so much of magic was about the show. Whatever he did would make quite an impression, and Nate wouldn't miss it for the world.

The sky was dark when the bonfires went up in flames. This time the drums beat and a dozen men in full dance regalia stepped forward out of the shadows. Ted and Evan were spread out covering the dancers as Nate followed some of the kids towards a story circle.

The plumage was almost electric in the firelight, and in bright colors from head to toe they began to dance. The drummers sang and many in the audience joined in. Nate laughed when he realized that one of the dancers was Bob Travers.

This was a chance for the non-competitors to show off and Bob had one of the most spectacular costumes out there. The audience was most appreciative and there were lots of yells and clapping when the dance ended. Not to be outdone, the women stepped forward and began their dance. They all held rattles which added to the sound of the drums. Again the costumes were wonderful, many of them covered in bells.

Nate began filming a group of four, five and six year olds listening to one of the elders telling the tale of the rabbit and the tortoise. He was very patient, first speaking the lines of the story in Cherokee and then repeating them in English. This was a good way for the kids to get a feel for their native tongue. Soon they would be in the Cherokee school and learning to read and write the language.

Like Ted, Nate focused on the faces of the children and then captured the elder as he waved his hands with great expression to punctuate the points in his story. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tried to fool the kids by having the rabbit win the race, but they yelled at him and told him he was wrong. He laughed and gave them the true end of the tale; it was all such good fun.

But the drumming ended and the audience clapped. Nate knew the shamans would now give their prayer for the weekend's events, a blessing on the contestants. He slipped away from the kids and circled the fires for a good view. Five men stood forth and Marshall was one of them.

He looked imposing in his bright sparkling turban and the red feathers tied up in his hair. He wore a bright blue robe with white and red beading all arranged in a decorative pattern. Ever the showman, and here he looked like the ringmaster.

One of the men held a hand drum and began a slow steady beat as the others joined in a long and meaningful prayer chant. Nate caught some of the words here and there; they were calling down the blessings of the Creator on everyone present.

The chant included a prayer to the spirits of fire, water and earth, the basic elements of Cherokee faith. Water always seemed to be foremost, the purifier and the source of life. The relationship between the great fire in the sky, the sun, and nature was recognized early on in Cherokee spiritual belief. Life itself depended upon the balance of all the elements.

The blessing ended and the shaman group stepped aside, it was Marshall's moment.

"O'siyo, my brothers and sisters. Many of you know me, I will speak plain." Marshall paused as Gihli stepped out of the shadows and came to sit at his feet and stared up at him.

"Behold, a friend of man," Marshall said. "They sleep by our fires and guard our doors; they protect our children and our possessions. The spirit of this creature is not far removed from its ancestors…no, not far at all."

Marshall looked down at Gihli and she barked. Nate could hear some laughter in the crowd. Then Marshall raised a hand over her head and Gihli raised her head, her neck extended, and she howled. The cry was distinctly that of a wolf and the sound made the hairs rise on the back of Nate's neck. He was sure many in the crowd felt it too. Man's reaction to the ancient, the primitive.

When she was done there was total silence, and then from the hills above the fairgrounds came an answering cry. That howl turned every head in the bleachers towards the hill top. The cry was repeated three times and then silence.

Marshall smiled, only he and Nate knew that Waya was up there. Marshall lowered his hand and Gihli trotted off in the darkness towards the hill.

"Not far at all," Marshall repeated. "The blood of our ancestors was taken by their kind; they fought with us and sometimes won. But as our spirits grew closer together they came to live with us. That does not mean they have lost their way…we are the lost.

"It is understood that times have changed, the ways of the people have become modern and therefore burdened by new thoughts and ideas. But lest we lose our identity as a people we must remember and celebrate our past. Because if we don't…then soon there will be wolves at our door.

"In four short months we will celebrate the New Moon Ceremony and then worry about shopping at Wal-Mart for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Our modern ways have allowed us a lapse of reason, we have lost our way. Does anyone here remember what was celebrated in the week following New Moon? What has happened to our precious past?

"I would like to see the councils and the chiefs declare a return to the ceremony of reconciliation, a celebration of friends and relationships. The unity of our people is one of the Creator's gifts. Atohuna is a celebration to purify the spirit and renew our commitment to one another.

"So turn off your televisions and computers, come together with friends and enemies alike, and pledge to renew the Cherokee commitment to a spiritual way of life. And though you may not believe me, the ancestors sit in judgment of our lives. Our fate is guided by the past."

And with that Marshall faced the hillside and raised both his arms. Gihli and Waya both howled in unison, startling the crowd once again as Marshall strode off into the darkness.

"Jeez, that was powerful," Evan said over the headset.

"Awesome," Ted added, and Nate kept his silence. "Nate, what is Atohuna?"

"Damned if I know…some ancient celebration according to Marshall. I'll have to ask him."

"I wonder why it's so important," Evan asked. "Yeah, ask him."

With batteries running low they all walked back to the trailer and put away the cameras. Denny was in the tent reading, but came out to accept the wireless equipment and put that away.

"I heard a lot of the evening on the monitors," Denny said, and then she grinned. "We better tell Bob to pay attention to that off switch. I recorded a lot of cussing from him earlier."

"They probably ran out of beer," Ted laughed. "OK, I need a cold shower to kill this sunburn."

"I'll go with you," Nate said.

Showering at midnight, something new. But there were three other guys in the shower room and they had to wait. Once Ted undressed Nate could see the burned areas quite clearly, but he had some lotion in his bag. They each took a solo shower and headed back to the tent. As they expected Evan and Denny had retired.

Looking across to Marshall's site Nate saw the man sitting alone beside his fire. "Ted, I need to talk with him…alone. I won't be long."

Ted nodded. "OK, I'll wait for you."

Nate approached quietly, but Marshall looked up as if expecting him. "Good evening," He said.

Nate sat cross-legged on the ground and smiled. "You put on quite a show…of course you had some help."

"Waya is a most willing accomplice," Marshall said with a smile.

"It gave me a chill. But I'm sorry to say I don't know what Atohuna is either," Nate said.

"The reconciliation ceremony, something I think is very important…and not just because I'm gay."

"Oh, what's gay got to do with it?" Nate asked.

"The original intention of the ceremony was to display bonds of friendship between two people, either of the same or opposite sex. Enemies were supposed to forgive one another and start anew. I don't suppose those who first set forth the ceremony had gay relationships in mind, they probably meant fraternal love. But it's also a purification rite between the people and the Creator, that's what's so very important."

"Does this affect Waya in some way," Nate asked.

Marshall nodded slowly. "I said yesterday that you perceive things differently, but maybe you don't understand the feelings quite yet. The ancient ones speak to me when I pray, this you already know. But what they say is disconcerting, they are unhappy with The People we have become.

"The ceremonies we perform bring us closer to the spirit world, and yet when we do not remember the rituals handed down to us the benefits of those prayers are lessened, and not just for us. Our whole existence is based upon our past and the ties to the spirit world, we are destroying that bond."

Marshall stirred the dying fire with his stick. "For Usti Waya to find peace and return to the spirit world I will have to perform a ceremony. One so dangerous to life that I shudder to think what will happen if the ancients do not accept my offerings. If I do not stand with great strength in that doorway to the spirit world they could cross the threshold.

"The strength I need must come from The People. The ancient ones are already aware that our resolve is weak as we do not perform the proper rituals. I have been busy seeking a place for Usti Waya on the other side, and I may have a host who will accept him. But there is one impediment and I hesitate to bring it before you."

"Bring it to…me?" Nate said.

"Yes…I need your help," Marshall said.

"But I'm not a shaman…what can I do?"

"Remember that book I showed you at my home? The one with your Gran Betty in it?"

"Yes, the Bear Clan book," Nate said.

"The moon will be full a few days into October and we will perform the New Moon ceremony. Ten days later we must perform the Atohuna. What happens between those dates?" Marshall asked.

"October…I turn sixteen."

"Yes, and you will officially join the Eastern Band of the Cherokee and receive all the rights of an adult in the Qualla. As the only Cherokee member of your family still alive you will also become the head of your family, a chief. This means you can adopt Usti Waya as your brother and a member of that clan. The host I spoke of among the ancient ones is also a member of your clan. Usti Waya will have a village, a clan…and can finally put his spirit to rest for eternity."

Nate was dumbfounded; he had been unaware of any if this. But if it meant he could bring peace to the turmoil in Little Wolf's existence then he knew it had to be done.

"Can…can I really do all that?" Nate asked.

"Yes, as chief you will have the power and we will notify the Tribal Council that you have adopted a brother."

"And the ancient ones will accept him…will accept Little Wolf?"

"Yes, his spirit will have a focus. He will have peace in the spirit world. It would be an act of such friendship and kindness, the very essence of Atohuna. I will be forever in your debt," Marshall said.

"But the ghosts…I mean the spirits from the other side, will you have the strength?" Nate asked.

"If you stand up for Usti Waya as his brother they will have no choice but to allow it. He will re-enter their domain and flow with the waters to a place where he will be with his clan brothers." Marshall smiled and shook his head. "I don't want to influence you and the choices you will have to make in the future. But if Usti Waya returns like this it will give you a powerful ally among the ancient ones."

"In the spirit world? Why would that make a difference?" Nate asked.

"Every shaman needs a friend on the other side; you will have a brother which is much more powerful."

"I can't be a shaman, I don't know how," Nate said.

"The choice will be yours, but you have already begun to take the first steps," Marshall said. He rose and yawned, giving Nate a hand to his feet. "Go sleep on it, Nathaniel. Just remember, this is our secret. There will come a time when your man will need to know, let's leave him in the dark just a while longer. We will talk of this again."

With that Marshall gave Nate a hug and entered his tent. 'Go sleep on it,' Marshall had said. Like Nate could sleep now, he was wide awake. But he went back to the tent and slid in beside Ted.

"Is everything good with Marshall?" Ted asked.

"Yes," Nate said, and then he explained the meaning behind Atohuna.

"So it's personal, I thought it might be," Ted said. "I have no idea what it means to be gay in the Cherokee world."

Nate chuckled. "I'm both Cherokee and gay; I have no idea what it means either. I don't think it matters to us now."

Ted rolled over and stroked Nate's chest. "I'm glad you've become close to Marshall, he can tell you so much about your people, things you want to know."

"Sometimes those things are disturbing, did you know he thinks I could become a shaman?"

"A shaman? Why would you ever do that?" Ted asked.

"I don't know," Nate replied. "I know most people think a shaman is just some old guy who wears strange clothes and says ancient prayers. That's the image Marshall projects as part of his show, but there's so much more."

"Until I met Marshall I thought of a shaman as a native doctor, a healer."

"That's a more accurate description, Marshall is the exception. I'm sure he knows all the herbal formulas and healing plants, you could hardly find someone closer to nature than him. But I can't see myself as a shaman just for the fun of it, there would have to be a purpose."

"We're teenagers, we're not supposed to look beyond tomorrow," Ted said. "We've begun something here, and I don't just mean this film project. I'm in love with a perfect boy and no matter what he chooses to become I'll support his every move."

Nate rolled over into an embrace and all the worries faded, this is the way it was meant to be. Ted was right…it was too soon to take on the concerns that would face him later. The love they shared filled the void his life had become since his mother died.

But as the night sounds faded, Nate shared himself with Ted and then listened to the boy's soft snores. He was sure Evan and Denny would soon make a commitment to one another, this weekend seemed to do the trick. It was good to share love, but where would that leave Marshall?

In all that talk about sending Usti Waya back to the spirit world there had been no mention of what Marshall would lose in the process. Any fool could see the love they shared, and that didn't necessarily mean sexual love. But Marshall would have to give up that companionship to give the boy peace. It would be the most unselfish act Marshall could ever perform.

And Nate slept, his dreams filled with visions of life as a healer, a shaman. To be able to comfort the sick and infirm, to bring spiritual peace to the troubled, what greater task could he set? But there were also disturbing images of ghostly spirits, ancient warriors withered to flesh and bone. And Nate tossed and turned in his sleep all night until the birds woke him before dawn.

He slid out of the tent to relieve himself and found Waya resting beside the cold fire pit. The wolf sat up and Nate sat on the ground so their eyes were on the same level.

"You can understand me even in that skin, can't you?" Nate asked.

Waya cocked his head to one side and never lost eye contact. Nate stroked his furry head and neck and received a few licks in return.

"You know what's ahead…can I really help you do all these things?"

Waya leaned forward and licked Nate's cheek in response. These were the reactions he might get from a wolf, and Nate realized something. When the boy returned to the spirit world the wolf would remain in this one. Understanding how Marshall had melded the two was beyond comprehension, but he would be there when they separated.

"Would you truly be my brother?" Nate asked.

Waya raised a paw and laid it on Nate's hand. He knew that was the boy agreeing, they would be joined.

"Marshall says this could all be dangerous, we'll have to protect him."

Nate heard the growl deep in Waya's throat and saw the lips curl back in a threatening gesture. The wolf would protect Marshall at all costs. Being able to share his thoughts with a wolf felt magical. But the spell was broken as the headlights of the garbage truck swept down the road. Waya turned and ran back into the trees.

Sunday was pretty much like the day before, the ball game finals, dancing finals and a bang up ending. This was the Fourth of July; everyone came to see the fireworks, a jovial crowd. The Travers bunch narrowly beat out the Cherokee Nation in the ball game and won their fair share of the dancing competition.

Cansasa of the Lakota won the finals of the teen hoop dancing with Abner coming in a close second. Neither were disappointed at the decision, Abner would try harder at the fall Pow Wow. The day was filled with sights and sounds, all duly captured in the lens of a camera.

Nate and Ted sat in the bleachers with Evan and Denny to watch the fireworks, the end of a perfect weekend. The only disappointment came at the close of the evening when they walked back to camp, Marshall was gone.

He must have used the distraction of the fireworks to pack up his yurt and drive away. Maybe the cover of darkness was the only way he could hide Waya from prying eyes, but he hadn't even said goodbye. Nate knew they would see him again soon. They would certainly need his voiceover by the end of the summer.

The weekend of camping out had left them all with a desire to find clean clothes, take a long leisurely hot shower and eat food cooked by someone else's hand…they packed up and headed home.

They had hours of data to download, both images and sound. Evan was going to take Denny back to the university where she would begin to blend the audio clips. Once the mess was cleaned up and sounds catalogued it would sit until the time for editing began. The images came first, and that was still unfinished.

Evan would be gone a few days and meet them back in Cherokee to begin the filming of the museum's photographs. Nate and Ted were in for a few days rest and they would head back to the Qualla to begin the process of selection, which meant wading through the files Joseph had.

Boone was a welcome sight. The campsite was filled to overflowing and Bill seemed happy to have his help back, Ma was back on her feet and doing well. They unloaded the trailer and packed Denny's equipment in Evan's car, the rest went upstairs to their workroom. Denny and Evan said their goodbyes, anxious to get moving before the weariness set in.

They spent some time on the porch telling Bill and Ma about the weekend and all the sights, promising some photos by dinner time. Nate had to look at some of the images he'd made anyway; he had some pictures to print out for Granny Huhu.

They were still covered in dirt and smelled of wood smoke as Ted accompanied Nate on his rounds of the campsite. A broken fire pit ring, a busted fire grate and a few potholes in the road later they decided it was time to quit. The lure of a shower with virtually endless hot water was just too compelling.

Ted was still looking medium-rare and Ma solved the problem with her special sunburn concoction. But the exposure to the air conditioning in the house soon left them sprawled on their beds for a nap as afternoon turned into evening.

After dinner they spent four hours looking at footage, enough time for Nate to snag a dozen good shots of the Ross boys and send them to the printer. Tomorrow they would go in town and buy a photo album, making a nice package for Gran Huhu to enjoy.

One of the side benefits of all this filming Evan suggested might be a book of photos, something a curious public might enjoy seeing, and therefore buying. The digital imaging made every frame a worthwhile photo, enough for a dozen books. Nate had agreed if after costs they allowed the museum in Cherokee to sell the books for profit. They all agreed to that, it would be done.

This was only the beginning of July and yet they had so much work ahead. Evan's first comments about this project taking a year had seemed absurd, but not now. He had explained that the film would have to be built at least three times, or three edits. Adding the soundtrack would take a whole new effort after that.

They might have a final production model by Christmas, and then it would have to be shopped around to see if there were any buyers. Just offering endless showings of the film in Cherokee or allowing a local PBS broadcast would only reach a tiny audience. Evan had contacts, and those people knew other people…it would all take time.

To facilitate their work schedule they had all agreed to start the school work in a few weeks, home schooling didn't require a strict calendar. Two or three hours a day was all they needed Evan agreed. The best part was that the both of them would be able to test out of the grade if they accomplished all the study requirements.

Home meant sleeping in a real bed, and fortunately Bill and Ma slept downstairs and on the other end of the house. There were no tent walls to worry about here; making love meant sharing a full symphony of sounds once again. To Ted sharing love seemed like the most exciting and normal thing he could do with Nate. Only Nate knew that his life could never be considered normal ever again.


On to Chapter Ten

Back to Chapter Eight

Chapter Index

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Nathaniel Smiley is © 2009 by Chris James.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.


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