The Big Book of Canadian Hauntings. John Robert Colombo
He then looked directly in my eyes and smiled. It was later on, after this experience, that I learned that a sighting of an eagle can be a heavenly message or a heavenly messenger. Like it or not, for her, I guess, that included my mom as well as me.
It was at this part of the visit that Mom got out of the car and came to join me. With camera in hand, she graciously smiled and asked to take pictures of the three of us. Oh and let’s not forget Jessie, the little Jack Russell that didn’t wish to be left out of the shot.
From here began the indoor visit, but first came the trip to the rabbit’s pen and a stop off to visit the ducks. Inside the shop, which more resembles a museum than a shop, I discovered a wonderful reserved space of Native living past and present.
As soon as I stepped through the doorway, I impulsively gasped, “I could sleep right here!” Everyone laughed, but me! I was serious. I was in Native heaven. I never felt as if I had belonged anywhere anymore than I had here and now this day. My spiritual thirst had been quenched with the Native culture, upon Native land, and among Native history. I felt as if I had found the missing piece of my soul. I recognized I was learning some life-changing answers to questions that had been sleeping inside of myself for spans of years! All of this, topped off with a kind, wise, and strong spirit that was as eager to teach me about them as I was to learn of them. It was a grand day, a profound day, and a day in which I will carry inside of me forever!
Things were turning bittersweet! I felt the rapids of being rushed come over me. I wasn’t intentionally wanting to be disrespectful to either my mother, who I knew was anxious to get going, nor to the Chief for taking up so much of his generous time. I was feeling torn between what I wanted to do, and what was expected of me to do. As I continued to study the wonderment around me, I tried hard to battle off the feelings of my inner guilt and simply tried to satisfy what I wanted, what I needed. Which was to stay just a little bit longer and drink in all that was around me.
Throughout my earlier conversations with the Chief, I mentioned to him that I had a website. However, I felt that this was more than just about a paragraph or two on my site. I told him that I wasn’t sure why I had been guided to find him. I also mentioned that I was a published songwriter and a poet and that I was convinced that one day I was intended to write a book. I had no idea at the time “Feathers Within” was the story that I was growing inside of me.
While confessing my soul to the Chief, I was also hoping somehow that he might be able to shine a little light on the situation from his side. Perhaps he had been asking for answers or guidance for something that would help add up some answers for me. He didn’t seem to be passing any out. I was unsettled by the lack of my ultimate answer. Why was I there? On the other hand, I also hold a deep belief that one is always without their answers, until the universe feels it is the right time for one to know! That being said, it still left me feeling as if I was going to be walking away from something too soon. Although I believe the Great Spirit has a wonderful sense of humour, I don’t believe that he just wanted to send my mom and I on an old fashioned, wild-goose chase.
Inside the shop my eyes covered as many objects as they could take in on a short time. One piece that stood out apart from all others was a carving the Chief had done.
It was the carved figure of a woman. She was extremely sad and yet sacred looking. It was not a sadness that repelled me. It was one that drew me towards her. I had to run my hand over the texture of this particular piece of wood, to let her know I could understand her sadness. It made me glad that I had made the trip, that it was for reasons yet to be, and so it seemed it was. For on my website, I wrote a poem called “The Indian Carver,” and in that poem I mention this carving that left such an impression on me.
We eventually made our way back outside. I went to my car, opened the trunk, and took out a very large and heavy book called The American Indian. It covers the history of the U.S.A. and Canada. I asked the Chief if he would honour me by autographing it for me. Logically speaking, this was pretty presumptuous on my part, considering I didn’t even know if I was going to meet him. Yet inside, something greater told me that I would, and I had.
When we hugged good-bye, I hugged him with all my heart, as someone I had known a long time, not as someone I had just briefly met only in passing. We promised each other we would be in touch. I felt torn as I let him go, like a child who wants to cling to a parent and not be left with a strange babysitter. I could feel he felt the same way. It was no easier for me to try to explain to my mother, than it was, I’m sure, for him to have to explain to his mate either. It was time to let go, so we did. I got into my car and waved good-bye!
My heartstrings were still being pulled as I left his laneway. I turned my car south and headed down toward Cape Croker. I couldn’t imagine how anything at Cape Croker was going to top anything that I had just experienced. However, I stuck to my plan and struck out to find out.
It was only minutes later, when I had glanced up into my rear-view mirror, I made the pleasant surprising announcement to my mother that the Chief was chasing us. Then, I added, “Ah, actually, Mom, that was the Chief that just passed us!”
There was one more unexpected surprise yet to come.
He blew by us, only to pull over up in front of us. Then, he jumped out of his vehicle and was standing at the passenger’s side of my vehicle as I pulled up. Mom was very uncomfortable. As for me, I never even questioned it. I put my car in park, jumped out, and without a word followed in through some trees. Poor Mom, this wasn’t exactly her cup a tea. She doesn’t drive and she was trying to plan our escape should I get in to something over my head.
On the other side of this treed pathway was a beautiful wood home. He opened the door and asked me to wait there. Quick as a flash, he leapt up the staircase and began to start rooting for something. The house was beautiful, clean, and amazingly built. I could watch as he made his way down the hallway to the right. From the silence of this beautiful home came the sounds that I can only refer to as those of a wolf busily digging up a long-forgotten bone. No sooner had this thought passed through my mind than he was on his return down the stairs and back towards me.
In his hands he held a package that he motioned toward me to accept. I took it into my arms and hugged it closely to my chest. I told him that I would guard it with my life. He immediately responded, “And so you should!”
We both stepped back outside the house again. With this mysterious brown paper package under my one arm, he took my hands in his and made a bridge between us. “Your one story is in there,” he said. He looked intensely into my eyes, then smiled and slipped around the side of his house as quickly and as silently as a wolf.
I swiftly made my own way back to my car, glancing over my shoulder to see not another glimpse of him. I opened my trunk, placed the unopened package into it, and drove off toward Cape Croker, feeling like a secretly inspired Nancy Drew on her hottest mystery ever!
My mother’s only words as I climbed back into the car again were, “You are very trusting, aren’t you?” I did feel for her concern for me, but in the same breath, I had never felt safer in all my life. I tried my best to deliver this message to her as we were driving away.
“Mom, think about it! What would make a man that had never met me before trust me with something that obviously meant so much to him? In all the years he has lived, he has chosen me!”
It is hard for me even now to describe the feeling of deeply knowing that we were simply brought together by divine intervention. What else could one ever call it?
Mom and I did visit Cape Croker’s camp-grounds that day. I just drove in far enough to say that I had been there, to see if I felt any strange and profound feelings. What I felt was it was familiar! It brought me peace, quiet, and calmness. It was the end to a very special day indeed.
As I was driving away, I told my mother that I would be back to Cape Croker, that I would return for the powwow, that I was intended to have something more unfold for me in this place. I could feel a strong and future connection to Cape Croker. One day, I knew I would find more answers there.
On April 29th, my phone rang at my work. It was the Chief, and he was asking if we had reached White