Voice of Hope

As the wind picked up, Helen closed her eyes and felt the breeze brush her hair from her cheeks while the sun warmed her shoulders. Faintly, Helen could hear snippets of a song. It was melancholy but beautiful. Helen found herself on her feet and leaning dangerously against the handrail as she tried to perceive the direction of the singer. From the bottom of the observation deck, however, a much more immediate sound grabbed her attention. Helen looked down to see the tabby cat howling at her. With a start, the woman stepped back from the rail and looked out towards the west once more, but the song had disappeared. With a mildly derisive laugh, Helen shook her head and turned to climb back down the ladder where the tabby met her. Helen could have sworn the little feline looked stern.

"Mahpe, did you hear the song?" Helen asked, feeling both foolish and giddy at the same time. The cat's tail lashed once against its hindquarters before she rose to her feet and trotted down the path leading back to the ranch. Helen had no reason not to follow.

Darkness came early that night as more clouds rolled in over the sprawling hills and plains. Helen took some time to check the windows as the wind picked up, much worse than it had been the night before.

As dusk settled, Mahpe returned to the house just before the rain began, pelting the windows with icy gusts. Helen had built a fire in the fireplace and was thankful for its warmth as the drafty house shuddered in the wind. The cat chose a spot near the hearth, curled up and began to nap. Helen watched the rain through the large windows of the living room. The fire was the only light in the room.

A flash of lightning illuminated the front yard for a moment, reflected in the windows of the car before everything plunged into darkness once more. Frowning, Helen squinted slightly at her backlit reflection, sure she had seem something outside, but the lightning had tripped the sensor on the yard's floodlight. Slowly, the lamp reacted to the continuing darkness and slowly warmed. In the dim, blue light from the halogen bulb, Helen could almost pick out... something. Just on the edge of the forest.

Helen stepped towards the window, her curiosity piqued. The lightning flashed again. Stepping still closer, Helen held her face a mere inch from the glass, trying desperately to figure out what the odd shape might be. Again, the lightning faded, and the yard fell into total darkness. Helen could only see the fireplace reflected in the dark window. Her hands rested on the windowsill as she continued to watch, determined.

Again, a flash of lightning, and the dancer's ghostly face was staring back at her. Helen screamed and stumbled back, falling to the floor with her hand raised defensively, but when she looked around, eyes darting furtively, the woman was nowhere to be seen. Helen backed herself towards the fireplace, her heart beating rapidly as her gaze was drawn back to the window. However, it was empty once more.

Adrenaline coursed through her body, and every little sound heightened her apprehension while the tabby cat beside her continued to sleep. Helen started to reach out towards the feline until an odd sensation came over her. She looked up slowly. The flames in the fireplace had frozen in place, the cat was not moving, and the rain outside the window stood perfectly still.

Helen's outstretched hand began to shake before she let it drop and slowly got to her feet. With her entire body trembling, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and slowly turned in place until an icy breath touched the back of her neck. Frozen by fear, Helen stared straight ahead. "Who are you?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, eyes straining.

A women's voice, gentle as a stream, spoke to her from the darkness. Helen could not understand the strange language. She turned slowly. Again, she faced the woman from the night before. Her face was pale but so very calm, and with that calm, Helen's fear began to subside. Again, the woman spoke. Her hand moved toward Helen, beckoning her forward.

Slowly, Helen did so, and as her hand touched the woman's, a shock ran through her body. Helen gasped, eyes closing tightly as she sank to her knees, followed by the ghostly figure in front of her.

"Why have you left us, my child?" whispered the unearthly voice. Helen's eyes shut more tightly as her hand clasped desperately to the woman's. "You have been gone too long," she continued. Helen could feel the woman's other hand on her cheek and realized she was crying silently, though she did not understand why.

Helen opened her eyes, squinting through her tears. "I had to," she whispered, her voice sounding harsh compared to the other woman's.

"To heal," stated the woman calmly, her eyes never leaving Helen's. A dumb nod was the only reply Helen could give. The woman's cool fingers remained pressed against Helen's cheek. "Your mind has healed, child, but your heart needs us in order to be whole." Again, Helen felt cold hands grip her shoulders, but she did not flinch this time. Again, a hard arm tried to pull her down, but she held tightly to the woman's hand, refusing to let go.

"It's been so hard," Helen began to explain, choking back a sob before she could continue. Her tears fell, unhindered. "This place... the memories." Her eyes began to close again as the woman moved the hand at her cheek to press lightly above her heart.

"The place, it hurts you? The memories haunt?" asked the woman, her voice a breath on the wind. The hands holding Helen grew more insistent, but she fought them all the more strongly and shook her head, eyes pleading as she kept eye contact with the shadow of a woman.

"I want to be whole again," Helen cried, leaning away from the hard hands and pressing against the hand at her chest. "Not broken... No more. Please help me!" Her knuckles turned white with her efforts to hold on, though it did not seem to bother the other women in the least.

The spirit met Helen's gaze, peering intently for moments that seemed to stretch infinitely until she calmly nodded. Her hand left Helen's chest only to slide up to the back of her neck, holding Helen still as the ghostly face drew nearer. "Return to the land, child," the woman murmured, her words barely audible as if whispered across a vast canyon. Her face was inches from Helen, who pulled with all her strength against the stone-cold arms holding her back. "Return to your people, and you will be whole."

"Yes." Helen's answer was hushed, afraid but hopeful. She could feel the cool hand at the nape of her neck, soothing like cool rain on scorched skin. She began to repeat the single word, but the other woman closed the distance.

Frigid ice seared her lips and shot through towards the ghostly touch at her neck. Her hand turned to ice, her heart froze to a glacial crawl. She wanted to cry out but could not, stifled by the other woman. Then slowly, time flowed forward at a dizzying pace. The woman was joining with her, becoming one, and for one ecstatic moment, Helen could see as the woman saw, could feel as the woman did, could hear such wondrous melodies until she could no longer bear it. The hands seeking to control her in their hard grip were suddenly shattered and she arched backward, unable to control the emotions flooding through her.

For a few tenuous moments she felt as if she were made of fire and ice mingled together, every inch of her body screaming with incredible delight and excruciating agony until they fused together like tempered steel.

The moment passed, and it seemed Helen could see for endless miles as she gazed over the plains. They were filled with people, her people, and they were watching, encouraging her with cheerful smiles, welcoming her back to the land. Helen accepted it gratefully as her heart filled with blissful contentment, replacing the frost until there was nothing left.

As dawn approached, Helen awoke with the tabby cat curled up against her stomach. In a daze, she scratched the small feline's head lightly and let her own rest against the floor. Despite a mild stiffness in her neck, Helen felt better than she had in years, though the night's dream left her utterly bewildered.

Mahpe pushed her brown head into Helen's hand before stretching slowly, the very image of satisfaction. The woman smiled softly, ran her hand down the cat's downy fur then began to push herself to her feet. The fire had died down to mere embers during the night, and the storm clouds had once again dispersed, clearing the way for a beautiful morning.

The cat roused itself enough to sit up. She gave a large yawn, then simply sat and watched Helen lazily. "It's a new day," Helen told the little tabby, who trotted toward her on the way to the kitchen. "Breakfast. Good idea. Then I'll find out if it's a niece or a nephew I'll be spoiling when I move back."

While she laughed as she said it, neither she nor the cat seemed to think it was all that crazy after all. The others would understand.