Read Online Poltergeist II - The Other Side by James Kahn - Free Book Online Page B

fluttering. Conversing with him, it almost seemed. And he, in turn, stretched out his arms and moved in slow, regal circles around the arbor, as if he were dancing with a swarm of sprites.
    Robbie and Carol Anne stared, enthralled, from the patio.
    And then the butterflies dispersed and were gone.
    As soon as Carol Anne lay down for her nap Robbie went out to Taylor’s tent to talk man to man.
    Taylor was sitting inside, cross-legged, encircled by his fetishes, when Robbie approached.
    “Can I . . . come in?” Robbie asked uncertainly. This was about the coolest thing that had ever happened to him, and he didn’t want to blow it. This guy was a real Indian, camping out in Robbie’s backyard, making powerful medicine. Who could ever have believed it?
    Taylor motioned him in, and they sat facing each other. A curved row of objects separated them in a line along the ground: a bobcat claw, a tiny doll woven out of buffalo grass, a shiny quartz crystal, an eagle feather, a piece of mountain sheep horn, a shard from an old obsidian lance tip, an uncut garnet, an armadillo scale.
    Neither spoke for a moment, until Robbie figured he had to make the first move. “I was just wondering,” he said, looking at Taylor straight on. “How’d you do that? With the butterflies, I mean.”
    Taylor smiled warmly. “There’s no magic to it—except the magic of the universe, of course. It is hot in August, and butterflies need salt and water, like all creatures. They came to drink the sweat on my skin.”
    Robbie nodded, then shook his head. “They never landed on Dad like that, and sometimes he sweats a lot.”
    “They can sense fear, and quick uncertainties make them shy.”
    “Aren’t you ever afraid?”
    “Yes, I have fear. Fear is in the pattern of all things, part of the Great Harmony. The secret of riding fear is never to shut your eyes to it”
    “Usually makes my eyes open wider,” said Robbie.
    “The lonely often say so,” remarked Taylor.
    “I ain’t lonely,” Robbie protested defensively.
    “You are quick to renounce praise,” said Taylor. “I mark loneliness an honor.”
    “You do ?” Robbie hardly believed him.
    “All Navajos do. The Navajo seeks loneliness in all the corners of the Fifth World, which we now inhabit. Loneliness is a mantle of power and knowledge. The eagle is lonely, and there is no animal more beautiful or sacred or powerful.”
    Robbie was becoming entranced by this wise man’s quiet, sure ways. “Well . . . maybe I am a little lonely.”
    “Then perhaps you are a little Navajo. This is good. The Navajo are strong warriors. You must use your strength to help your family,” Taylor cautioned, “as will I.”
    “Sure is lucky for us you came along when you did,” Robbie marveled.
    “There is no luck.” Taylor smiled benevolently. “There is only the Pattern—the harmonious order of things—and the Kachina spirits that help us to see this order, and Evil, which is a disruption of this order, and Ceremony, which helps us restore the pattern.”
    “Right,” said Robbie. Then: “What’s Kachina?”
    “Kachinas are our Ancestor Spirits. They live in the clouds.”
    “Mom says I’m off in the clouds a lot.”
    “Then you have been close to the Kachinas—perhaps you are brother to the Hopi as well as to the Navajo.”
    “Really?”
    “I am blood kin to both tribes. This has made me special, though some scorn me for my specialness. You, too, are these things: special and scorned. I feel this.”
    Robbie nodded. He felt it, too.
    Taylor continued. “So you are brother to me in spirit—and, as brothers, we must share each other’s battles. Who offends you offends me. Perhaps it was because of this that the Evil One came to my attention.”
    “The Evil One?”
    “He who would steal your sister from this world. It is he you must struggle against—but you are not alone in this, and I am confident we will win.”
    “Yeah? How?” Robbie was less than confident—he’d seen