Black Eagle Dream

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Chapter 33

Cyrus sat at the table drinking a cup of coffee. Dwayne had just called to let him know they got back from Phoenix safely, and would be home shortly. The two men had to stop by the store before coming to the house. Cyrus negotiated down the small rock stairway that led out back to the hogan. The creaky door offered it’s hello to the old man who had to crouch down to gain entry into the aged hogan. Dwayne had insisted on moving it onto his property as he wanted to hang on to a small piece of his family. Dwayne had brought it down from Rough Rock. Cyrus had spent many nights in this hogan with Dwayne and his father in the cold country of northern Arizona. Dwayne was a little boy then. Cyrus was pleased when Dwayne told him it would be ready when Cyrus arrived from the big island. Cyrus sat down in the rocker that Dwayne had recently purchased for him. Cyrus was grateful, but thought it unnecessary considering he had so little life now to live. Cyrus had felt his desire to live, slip away the last few weeks. He hoped he could hang on a little longer so he could tell Sonny Ray of some of the inner workings of the black eagle.
It would not be easy though, because even Cyrus knew he did not have all the answers. However, through the years he had surmised that the black eagle flew between two worlds, the physical one, and the subconscious dream world; much like mankind it self. As the eyes of a person were the open window to their soul; it was given to the black eagle, access to fly through the eyes of a person’s dream.
In some respects it was like a compass if you will, leading to the true north of the young man’s subconscious mind.
Altair Ali, the man who had entrusted the black eagle to him, died in a remote jungle in North Africa during World War II. Cyrus happened upon Altair, while out on a special one man reconnaissance. He found Altair as he lay mortally wounded on the jungle floor of a tiger trap. Cyrus had lowered himself into the abyss to do what he could for the dying man. Cyrus was a large hawaiian man who possessed extraordinary strength. Cyrus lifted the impaled man from off the sharpened bamboo shafts. Altair would not eat, so Cyrus gave him sips of cool water, and some warm tea. Cyrus had built a small fire. After giving Altair the last of his morphine, Cyrus lay in the tiger pit next to the dying Altair, as the flames of the fire danced excitedly above their heads; ascending upward into the expanse of the dark star lit night, revealing the green and lush jungle fauna that surrounded the tiger pit; it was here that it was to be their earthen womb, this hot and humid night. Cyrus sung soothing but sorrowful songs in his native hawaiian language.
The large black predator sat upon the shrapnel filled coconut stump with attentive eyes, peering down into the pit observing Cyrus, as he cared for the dying man. Cyrus lay flat on his back looking up into the blackness of night. Altair’s breath became more labored. Before Altair died he told Cyrus he was from Morocco, and that this winged creature was the black eagle dream. It was Altair’s life long companion. The black eagle possessed extraordinary longevity, Altair said it had been in his family since the time of his grandfather’s youth. Altair struggled to talk, but was insistent that Cyrus cremate him after he died. He related that the black eagle would not leave the dying man, even if he was buried. It had to be by fire before the black eagle dream would take it’s leave. Thus by the flame of life being extinguished, and the vessel that would become dust again;
the window would be closed from the living to the dead.
Altair Ali spoke of dreams,
of his beloved wife and daughter….

The old man’s thoughts gradually began to shift to the present.

Cyrus had always desired to reveal himself to his son; but it was Wanda, the love of his life who would not agree to that, and swore she would never speak to him again if he did not relent to her wishes. Such was the selfish vanity of this particular woman. She would only relent and allow Cyrus to contact Sonny Ray after Wendell was deceased. Well that moment had arrived. During the latter part of his days, Cyrus began to have reoccurring dreams of Sonny Ray. Over time, it occurred to Cyrus that these reoccurring dreams solidified his resolve to contact Sonny Ray to not only tell him who he was, but to ascertain if he would consider caring for this magnificent creature. It would without question play a large role in the young man’s life going forward. Cyrus placed a piece of mesquite in the small pot belly stove. The fact that Sonny Ray hadn’t had the opportunity to wrap his mind around everything that had dropped on him in a small window of time; was very disconcerting to Cyrus.
But
it was
about
time really.

Time.

Cyrus had run out of time.

Literally.

We all run out of it

eventually.

Cyrus continued to pack up a few more supplies
as he awaited the
return of Dwayne and Sonny Ray.
In two day’s time
Cyrus hoped
to be well underway
to Shiprock mountain,
New Mexico
to watch
the
sunset,
one
last time.

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