Page 7 of Zombie Invasion

Mike Jones and his grandfather, Pipi, went on a trip to the Florida Everglades. They had made minor trips to the area to engage in camping and hunting. This time, they were heading deep into the territory to find trees and make camp. Pipi had a surprise for his young grandson. Mike knew little of his roots on his father’s side. His mother was not fond of Indian heritage and discouraged all efforts in the household.

  Pipi was full-blooded Seminole. His wife, Osceola, was part Seminole. They longed to pass on their knowledge to the next generation. Their problem was that out of four children, only one survived to adulthood, Josiah, Mike’s father. Josiah could pass for white and took full advantage to infiltrate White America. He abandoned his heritage and embraced Westerners.

  Bonnie was old money, transplanted from Connecticut. She and Josiah married and she miscarried three times in their first year of marriage. They decided to wait a year and were successful. During the birth of Michael, a near-death experience forced her to give up hope for more children. Her doctor tied her tubes the instant Michael came into the world. Bitterness overtook her and she blamed Indian charms and chants for her misfortune. She vowed the voodoo of the backward Indians would never touch her son. A vow she would keep as the center piece of her existence.

  As a result, Pipi spent most of his time away from his grandchild. However, on one particular day, luck befell him. Bonnie took Josiah to a retreat in Connecticut. Michael would stay with next door neighbors. The old man made sure to keep out of sight to prevent her from changing her mind and taking the boy with her. With the parents gone, Pipi had a week to teach Seminole ways to a lost son.

  “How far are we going, Grandfather?” asked Mike.

  “We are nearly there, Matthew.”

  “You know I hate that name, Grandfather.”

  “Sorry.” Pipi indulged the youth, he had a preferred name himself. He wanted to say, “Call me Shadow when we are alone.” He didn’t. The boy would not understand. The devil had poisoned him against their ways. He pondered how much to say to the child.

  “Do you know I have a spirit name?”

  “A spirit name?”

  “Yes, I have a spirit name. When we travel among our kind we don’t speak the white man’s name to one another. You will visit our people in the camp tomorrow and learn our true names.”

  Mike nodded and kept walking. “What about me?”

  “What?”

  “What is my spirit name, Grandfather? I have one don’t I?”

  A wry smile crossed Pipi’s lips. That was the reaction he wanted. He hated that it took eight years to get him interested, but he would take it none of the less.

  “Tonight will begin your learning. You will have a spiritual name as well as a spiritual animal.”

  “Animal?”

  “Yes. Your animal is your spiritual guide through this life. You are unaware of it now, but it is with you now, guiding your steps. You make no move without your guide there to help you.”

  “That sounds . . . interesting.”

  Pipi felt as if he walked on eggshells. His fists tightened. How could the boy not know? The boy wasn’t mocking him and his ways was he? He resisted the urge to shake the boy as he wanted. He needed to be delicate. Calm down, it will work out, he told himself. He thought of how to proceed and came up with one reply.

  “It is, my son.”

  “What is your animal guide, Grandfather?”

  “That, I cannot say. To say means to betray all that I hold dear and would put me on a path without my guide. No, my son. Your spirit guide listens as well as guides. Should you reveal information about it to another, it will become angry and leave you. Without your guide, you will blunder into traps set by the enemy.”

  Mike laughed as they walked through thick underbrush. Pipi smiled. He knew the young boy was skeptical, his hateful witch of a mother lied to him his entire life. It will be hard to undone the damage that devil did. He would try. No! He would succeed. Destiny demanded that he succeed. He clutched his breast pocket to feel the note. It was still there, he smiled.

  For a while, they walked in silence. The only sound available was that of Pipi slashing at weeds and undergrowth. Mike had a look on his face. His look was intense as if in deep thought. The old man stopped to see what the matter was.

  “Grandfather?”

  “Son?”

  “Grandfather, why is my last name, Jones?”

  Pipi chuckled. He turned and slashed his way through an opening and made it to a clearing. “Our family name is Jonnelarso.” Ahead of them was a log and a pile of ashes from a long-ago campfire. “Sit, my son.”

  “Tell me, Grandfather.”

  Pipi took a drink from his canteen. He passed it to the young boy and sat beside him on the log.

  “When Josiah left the camp, he left behind all that made him Seminole. He left his clothing and possessions. When I say he left his clothing, I mean he literally left his clothing. He was eighteen and headstrong. In the middle of our tent, he stood up and took off every stitch of clothing. Right there in front of me and his mother. He was a bold one, that father of yours. He said he hated Indians and everything Indian. He would not have any of it in his life and he stormed out naked as the day he was born. Your grandmother and I were furious. Josiah ran off with your mother. She bewitched him. Sending him to that private school was a mistake.”

  Pipi sighed. He hate he had fallen for the trick. One day a government man came to their hut and offered his son a full scholarship to an elite school. Pipi thought it was the answer to a prayer, a way to educate his son so the young man would return and uplift his people. That dream would never come true.

  “Is that true?” asked Mike.

  “The wind knows the words of the truth.”

  “Huh? What does that mean?”

  “I would not lie to you, my son. I tried to keep you on the reservation with us, but they wouldn’t allow it. It got so bad that they refused to allow us to see you for two years. Don’t abandon your heritage like they have, my son. You must know who you are. Our people have a destiny and we have done great things. This I can say, my spirit guide showed me this. Our people are the future and you must embrace your people.”

  “I embrace everything.”

  “Everything that you know of, my son. That leaves a lot out. Tonight, we begin.”

  Pipi tapped him on his thigh and they rose. This would be their home for the night. They unpacked and prepared their large tent. The tent was capable of holding several campers. They would have plenty of room to roam about within its confines.

  Mike gathered wood while Pipi fashioned spears from tree limbs. He brought bows, but intentionally left the arrows at home. This hunting experience the young boy will remember. The area held game and will give valuable lessons not taught in schoolbooks. His young son would soon be a man and needed to be treated as such.

  After setting up their tent and having their wood in place for the campfire, they strode through tall trees in silence. The old man took the lead with the boy trailing, bow in hand, anxious. They stopped. Pipi gave the signal and they crouched low. Ahead of them, a rabbit stopped to nibble a blade of grace. Pipi smiled. Mike had no way of knowing, but this was the old man’s spirit guide. They were on the right track.

  The spirit guide told the old man this was their meal for the night. With hand movements, he separated from his grandson so they could shoot at the animal from different angles. Pipi motioned for him to aim his bow as he taught him long ago. Pride filled him as his young grandson took to hunting as he knew he would. The boy was a natural. Both aimed and on Pipi’s signal, they launched their arrows. Each arrow found its target and the long-eared rabbit fell over.

  “Got him!” Mike gave a fist pump in victory.

  “Whoo Eee!” Pipi shouted to the young hunter. The devil can’t teach him that.

  They came out of hiding to claim their prize. The grandfather congratulated his grandson and together they walked back to their camp. Mike watched and listened
intently as Pipi showed him how to properly gut and clean the animal.

  “Where are you going to throw the guts, Grandfather?”

  “The entrails are important, my son. They teach us where this brave soul has lived and what he ate. We will use them as we reach out into the underworld to gain favor and bring your animal guide into focus for you.”

  “Grandfather? Come on, the underworld?”

  The boy was ignorant of his history. Pipi thought to shake the ignorance out of him. He calmed himself again. It’s not his fault. A demon raised the boy in ignorance, out of spite. He centered himself so his words came out soft. He couldn’t talk about the devil and upset his son.

  “This is not the world of the white man, no, this is our world. We come from there and we live there. When we die, we pass through there to be judged and receive our rewards.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  The boy’s sarcasm was not appreciated. I have a lot to teach him, thought Pipi. First things first, he spread out the entrails on the ground in front of their fire. Mike watched as his grandfather said a few words in a strange language and piece by piece, the old man placed the entrails on the burning wood.

  The singed color was unusual. Mike’s face grew into shock. Pipi knew the boy was having trouble figuring out why the entrails changed color as they shriveled and burned. He and his grandson witnessed one piece of entrails burn and a white smoke rose from it. Another produced a red smoke and another, a green. In all, five different smokes rose from the animal’s guts as they shifted in color.

  “Wow!”

  Pipi hid his face from the boy. He didn’t want the boy to see his smile. With a lowered head, the old man spoke more of his Creek dialect. They sat on the log and watched the smoke rise. Pipi took the cap off a canteen. He hesitated. He said a prayer and drank. He smiled at his grandson and passed him the canteen.

  “Whoo!” said Mike. “Man, what is that?”

  “Juju drink. Take more. Drink it deeply, my son.”

  Mike did as told. He ignored the stench and downed the brew. He took three gulps before he stopped. The boy shook his head violently. His head swayed.

  “Look into the flames, my son. There you will find your spirit guide in the form of an animal. Follow the flames high into the sky and let them reveal their secrets to you.”

  Mike looked in the fire with a glazed expression. After a while, he tilted his head and followed the various colors into the night sky.

  “There,” Mike pointed, “there, I see something. I think it is a—”

  “No! Matthew, you must not say it! Never tell anyone your spirit guide. It is forbidden and your guide will leave you.”

  “Okay, Grandfather. Is it really just for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, I mean the animal. Are they just for me, all of them? I mean, if I see one of these animals, how will I know it is for me and not for someone else? Seriously, Grandfather, with all the people in the world, they can’t be just for me.”

  “What you see is your guide. When it chooses, it will make itself known to you and give you instructions. Until then, it is another animal.”

  “If you say so, Grandfather.”

  The boy continued looking up, following the smoke. Sorrow shone on his face. Pipi knew the look. He had told him long ago never to keep secrets from him and yet here he was asking him to keep a secret.

  Pipi thought of his own animal and how he and his father came to this same area to find his spirit guide. Every time he saw a rabbit, he assumed it was his guide talking to him. Once, he debated whether the rabbit he saw taking a dump on a log meant anything. Was the rabbit telling him something? It took time for him and he knew it would take time for his grandson.

  Later that night, Pipi doused the fire with water and they got into sleeping bags. In the darkness he told his grandson a story he hadn’t heard before. The boy fell asleep next to him. Pipi remained awake a few moments thinking. Tomorrow he would take his grandson to the tribal chief and through a series of tests his grandson would find his spirit name. Before drifting off to sleep, Pipi thought of his best friend and the man’s granddaughter. Perhaps he could arrange a marriage between the children. Yes. That would bring the young warrior back into the fold. He needed a Seminole woman to ground him. Yes! My son will live the Seminole life and fulfill his destiny. Pipi closed his eyes, contented.

  Chapter Six: Mike