Seal felt a swelling sensation fill her head. Her ears depressurized, like when she swam and emerged from deep water. A buzzing sound filled her head, she let out a gasp, then took a deep inhale. “Where am I? Where am I? Where am I?” she heard herself say over and over until her vision went from fuzzy to clear. Gray filled the sky above her, betraying neither if it was day or night. She saw no moon, no sun, no clouds, only the gray.
Seal occasionally fainted under stressful events that caused anxiety attacks. The first time happened the night Beth died and she settled herself down with a breathing exercise.
She looked again for Javin with no luck. Everything ached dully, except for the scratches across her body, which stung. She felt thirsty and tasted smoke when she exhaled. She felt something pressed gently at her side. Paintchip, the doll she thought she had left behind.
The doll moved and gave an exaggerated stretch and yawned. “Hi, Seal, you fell. Are you hurt?” The doll’s voice sounded familiar.
“How are you… you alive?” she asked the doll.
“I’ve always been alive,” the doll said, fretting.
“Dolls don’t talk.”
The doll held out each limb and bent over at its middle to inspect itself. “Oh, I am a doll. But I’m Beth too. Where are mom and dad? I want to see them. I woke up and I couldn’t find them. I looked everywhere.”
The doll. It sounded like Beth’s small doll voice. “I don’t know where I am. I don’t know if I’m dreaming, and you can’t be my sister because I lost her.”
“You didn’t lose me. You’re silly! We fell. That means mom and dad are there,” the doll pointed up at the sky.
“I don’t know, where they are” Seal admitted. “I have to find my friend. And how are did you come here? I left you behind in the house.” Guilt washed over her. “By accident,” she added, hoping for forgiveness… from a doll, or was it her sister? The whole situation confused her.
“I woke up and mom and dad weren’t there, so I followed you into the sunflowers. I ran as fast as I could.” The doll demonstrated by running a limping circle around Seal, giving an extra skip on its short leg. The injury inflicted by Jenn in the science lab hampered her movement. “I fell after you. I can help you find Javin.”
“You know Javin,” Seal asked.
“Of Course! Javin is a silly boy,” the doll said. Seal felt dumbfounded. It seemed like Beth. But she was inside Paintchip. It was all impossible. Either she fell into a magical world, or she was unconscious in the sunflower field, dreaming. If this was real, it was an ugly world, magical or not. Either way, she realized she could feel the spirit of Beth and it produced a sensation of warmth. She scooped the doll in her arms and hugged her tightly.
“Whoa,” the buckskin doll turned Beth said as she lifted from the ground. Then her little arms pressed into Seal too. “I’ve missed you, Seal.”
“I’ve missed you too, Beth.” They hugged for a long while.
Beth looked at herself and said, “I do look like Paintchip, don’t I?” She giggled. “But what happened to my leg? I want to see Mom and Dad so they can fix my leg,” Beth said in a worried tone.
“Your leg is a long story. We have to find Javin. Then we’ll get out of here.”
“An adventure,” Beth yelled. “Just like in the stories dad used to read us.”
Seal tried lifting her tiny sister to carry her, but Beth insisted on walking. The doll had endless energy and easily kept pace. The two of them looked for signs of Javin. Seal called out Javin’s name and Beth mimicked her older sister in her much smaller doll voice.
Browned grass and dusty mounds surrounded them, with no sign of life anywhere. Seal spotted hills through the haze in the distance and headed towards them. They might give her a good view. The two sisters walked for miles, and they talked about the last year. Seal filled her sister in on what she missed, including the three bullies that had burned her leg. Beth told Seal she didn’t remember anything after the man with the gun. “Can we go on the hayride again, Seal?”
Seal trembled at the suggestion. “No. I don’t like Halloween. I lost you.”
“But I’m right here,” the doll that was Beth said. Seal vowed not to allow her sister to do anything dangerous again. It did not immediately cross Seal’s mind that the magic that brought her sister back here might not last when they went home.
They continued their walk and Seal felt her tongue scratching against the roof of her mouth and sticking to her teeth as she talked. Soon she stopped saying anything, although Beth continued, oblivious to Seal’s silence. Her sister was little different from before she died.
“When we go back home, can we go to the museum? Will you run through the sprinklers with me too?”
Seal thought of their house burning down and kept the memory to herself, not wanting to upset her little sister with the news they had no house to return to.
Although the air was not hot, sweat dripped down Seal’s face. Her scratches stung as the salty droplets ran into them. Her calf muscle squeezed tight, causing intense pain. She tried rubbing the pain away. Soon, the pain caused her to limp like the doll.
“We’re alike now,” Beth joked.
That wasn’t true though, because the doll still moved at a quick pace and Seal progressively slowed.
“Are you tired? Should we stop?” Beth asked. “Look, over there. We can sleep in those buildings.” The doll’s fingerless hand pointed. A tall sign, letters broken away, loomed in the distance. It used to say ‘motel’. The two sisters headed towards it.
When they reached the faded blue buildings, they saw most of the doors stood open. All the windows were missing, and dirt covered everything, sometimes inches deep. They found an old vending machine, but it was empty. Seal continued to look for water or food, turning on faucets, trying to run the bath and shower. Nothing came out. Not even a gurgle or rush of air.
“Let’s rest a little,” Seal said. She entered room #7 and brushed the dirt from the creaky mattress. The dust filled the air and further irritated her dry mouth.
Beth, not tall enough, reached her arms towards Seal for help. “Please.” Seal lifted her onto the bed.
Seal knew she needed water. She knew what dehydration could do. It looked like it never rained here. She tried to remember survival tips her father taught her. She learned how to look for edible plants and water. She needed to find a large pond or running water. Anything small like a puddle, would be contaminated with salts from the soil. But if that was all she found… She would drink mud right now to stop feeling thirsty.
Eventually Seal grew tired and she shut her eyes. Beth, whose doll eyes never closed, kept watch over her. “I’m not sure we should stay here long,” she said to Seal. She did not feel safe. But her sister did not hear her.
* * * * *
The sun loomed high. A strong ray fell upon a giant white tent, the kind you might find at a wedding. It glowed.
“This way, child,” a voice called from within the tent.
Seal’s body felt strong, quenched and fed. She pushed the flap open and peered inside. The glow illuminated an animal. She couldn’t tell if the sun lit it up, or if the animal itself glowed. It sat on its haunches, its shoulder higher than Seal’s head. It kept its head lowered, like it slept. Its hump nearly touched the top of the tent support. Although huge, it looked like a young bison, not an adult. It breathed in and out rhythmically, hypnotizing Seal. She felt at peace for the first time in more than a year.
Seal looked through the vinyl windows. When she stood outside, lush grasslands surrounded her. From the inside, they floated like a satellite. She saw images of giant snake-like animals crawling in and out of the Earth. The giant creatures burrowed but left no traces behind them through the land.
“They are another story,” the voice said. “Ones you may find yourself in another time. For now, you must live this one. This is your story.” Seal turned back towards the giant bison calf. The voice sounded like a woman, except it was deep and resonant. It vibrated the ground under Seal like a herd of bison running across the land.
“Welcome, many named one,” the bison said. “Do you know your names?” Seal watched the young bison closely as it spoke, but its mouth did not move. The sound spread out from the resting creature.
She knew the answer. Felt it. She thought any other time she would be too scared to know what to say, but near the bison, she felt nothing but calm. “I am Cecile. Everyone else calls me Seal.”
“Especially your sister, yes?” Seal nodded. “And now you find yourself with her again. You thought her lost, but she came from beyond to be with you.”
“She isn’t here now,” Seal looked around. “Do you know where she is?”
The voice answered, “She is back where you were, not where you are.”
“And where am I?” Seal felt the light from the bison warming her.
“That is not the question that you need answered. The question you need answered is what are the true names of things? What are the stories you need to tell?”
“Do you know the meaning is of your name?”
“It means blind,” Seal answered.
“Blind has several meanings. It can be taken. It can be given. It can be overcome. Your parents named you well. Do you know my name?”
“You are the Lady of Light.” Her people had important stories about her. Sacred stories.
“I am. More or less. But that is not my true name,” the bison said. “One day you will know my true name. Knowing who I am will help you on your journey. Think of the stories your father told you.’ The great beast’s rear leg scratched at its side. “Do you know your sister’s name?”
“It is Beth. It means oath to God.”
“But we are not all biblical people. I am proof. Your parents named your sister wrong. They heard their dreams wrong. She is Behitha. Keep her name secret. It means Eagle Child, the beginning of things. The beginning of things is also the end of things. For you to reach home, you will have to let go of your sadness and guilt.”
Seal felt fear for the first time since entering the tent. She did not like the thought of losing Beth again. “I cannot lose her. I will not,” Seal said, her tone more whining than defiant.
“Hush. Crying will not help you. I tell you what is. I will not tell you what to do. But more than just you and the boy depend on you finding wisdom.” Reminded of Javin, Seal began to ask the bison calf about him, but was interrupted.
“There are multiple paths on your journey. May you choose the ones that lead to where you come from.” Seal understood the woman spoke several meanings at the same time with the same words.
“Others now approach. You will not die today. You can trust your kind here,” the giant calf said.
Seal felt an urge to leave, as though being mentally pushed out. She walked towards the tent flap and looked and saw no one outside. A prairie dog looked up at her from a nearby hole. It yipped. She looked back and the white calf faded. “They will offer help. Take it. A gift will be forced on you. It will be wise not to take it, but if you don’t have a choice, use it to your advantage. Remember the first story of our kind your dad taught you? I hope to see you again, Storyteller.”
* * * * *
Seal opened her eyes. She felt wetness pour over her lips. A mirage, she thought, like her dream about the giant bison calf. She coughed and sputtered. She felt a hand cup the back of her head, lifting it. More warm water touched her lips. When Seal came fully conscious, she saw a group surrounding her. They carried her from room #7 to the outside.
The People, her people, erected a camp around her made of ragged tipis, holes worn into their sides. The group comprised only old men and women. She saw no one younger. Their skin hung wrinkled from their faces. They walked hunched over like they suffered back breaking work their entire lives.
“She’s awake,” one called. The rest gave out a whoop.
“Here, drink more and take a bite.” The old woman handed Seal a cube. It was meat but she couldn’t identify what kind. Seal tasted it with her tongue and then slowly slid it into her mouth. It took a while to chew before she could swallow it. She drank water to help her swallow.
“And you,” the old woman pointed at the doll, now Beth, brought to life. “Why do you play dead?” They had brought the doll out with Seal and laid her nearby.
“How do you know she’s alive?” Seal asked the old woman.
“We can see life like a light here. It shines to our eyes. You both glow. Others, like us remain dim.”
“And who are you?” Seal asked.
“We are the dead, of course. The dead that came to the Hunting Grounds. The spirit world. Our People’s paradise is cursed, courtesy of dangerous beings called Paleskins.”
Beth, who had sat up, went back to pretending she was only a doll, scared of the people surrounding them. She could see they were spirits and not alive, although you could not see through them like ghosts.
To Seal, her ancestors looked as though they were living.
“Do not fret, children. We lived good lives. Most of us. For our people, anyway.”
Seal had heard of The Hunting Grounds. Some called it the Happy Hunting Grounds; the afterlife. She did not know what her People’s word is for the Hunting Grounds. Her dad told her the Wašíču made up the idea to get them to accept Christianity.
The old woman pinched lightly at the doll’s arm and giggled. “Do not fear, child. You are strange, but I see your spirit, and it is strong.” Beth stood up on her uneven legs.
Seal explained to the woman how she came to the Hunting Ground, falling from the sky with a friend, who she must find before they can go home. “Have you seen anyone else like me?” Seal asked. “A living person.”
“We have not. You are the first living person we have seen here if you don’t count the Paleskins. Stay the night and then we can help after your rest.”
Seal looked hesitantly at the sky.
“It is always gray,” the old woman said, understanding the confusion on Seal’s face, “but the dead can feel the time of day.”
“We sleep and eat and drink. Death does not mean you stop needing these things. Just much less of it. Or maybe it is a habit from life.”
The old woman offered no further answers. “Come, meet your ancestors.” She led Seal over to a small campfire to introduce the two sisters to the others.