A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 36

With Shiprock Mountain standing majestic silent alone, Cyrus stood unsteadily, and watched the sun melting away in the ether. He had insisted that the two men help him to his feet. The skies were ablaze with color. From the brilliant yellow hues, with the flashing burning orange hues against a fading blue sky. The warmth of the fading sun felt good on the face of the old man.

There is nothing quite like the warmth of the sun.

Cyrus had not said anything of course to the young men, but Cyrus could feel the coldness of death creeping ever closer. He felt weary in his bones. His time was close now. He knew that not many people had the opportunity to choose where they would die, so Cyrus felt grateful that he had decided upon, and arrived to this sacred place of such beauty.

The old man now sat propped up on his pallet, alone with the last of his thoughts, his emotions slowly seeping into the earth. Dwayne stood up so that he could sit with Cyrus. Dwayne kneeled down next to the old man. Cyrus weakly offered his hand. Dwayne squeezed his hand gently, acknowledging the deep affection he had for this man. “I am proud to have seen you grow up into a fine young man,” Cyrus said softly. Dwayne glanced over at Sonny Ray sitting across the fire.

“Cyrus I cannot tell you all the things that are in my heart, but I want you to know how much I appreciate how you looked after me after mom and dad were killed.”

Dwayne faltered, a silent tear streaming down his cheek. “I will always cherish your words, your kindness, your love, your wisdom, I…” Dwayne could not contain himself any further as he began to shake in sorrow. He hung his head down, unable to speak. Cyrus squeezed the hand of Dwayne with what fading strength he had left to offer.

“As I prepare to lay down with my ancestors, I must say that though the journey at times was a very difficult one, there were many good things that I enjoyed.

Never forget to seek the good things, things of value, the things that don’t fade with time.

Never forget your Creator. It is He that will watch over you during your journey of this life.”

The old man closed his eyes, and began to drift back between the sleep world of death, and the dreams of a life that was fading fast.

“I love you Cyrus.” “I love you too,” Cyrus said, spent now. Dwayne stood slowly. He looked down at Cyrus, unsure if there was anything left to say in this moment. Dwayne brushed away his tears, and attempted to sniff his sorrow back into his heart.

After adjusting his hat, he stood up and slowly walked to the suburban to get Cyrus another blanket. Sonny Ray was placing more wood atop the fire, as embers from the coals shot up briefly into the night sky. After placing the blanket upon his dying friend, Dwayne sat down in his chair. Tears streamed down his face.

Sonny Ray gave his friend some space, waiting for the wave of emotions to break over the reef of Dwayne Notah’s grief.

Sonny Ray waited. Dwayne began to regain his composure. “You all right?” Sonny Ray asked, almost in a whisper. “Yeah,” Dwayne offered. Sonny Ray poured some coffee as the two men continued their vigil.

High atop Shiprock Mountain, the solitary black eagle sat, observing the three men from afar.

It sat perched upon a wing of the sacred mountain.

It leapt from the ancient wing and began it’s descent to articulate a better view of the goings on of the men below.

A sliver of the moon began to rise.

The next few hours passed slowly.

Sonny Ray placed a few more pieces of wood on the fire. He glanced at his watch. It was four in the morning. He stood to shake the stiffness from his legs. There was a chill in the air. Dwayne sat at the fire with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Cyrus lay near the fire.

Cyrus had been sleeping peacefully for the last couple of hours.

Sonny Ray knelt down next to the dying man. In the dim light he could see that Cyrus was still breathing. He stared intently into the face of Cyrus.

Sonny Ray began to reflect on why Cyrus waited so long to tell him that he was his father. He knew his mother probably had played a large role in this.

Perhaps though Cyrus stayed away as long as he could, unsure that Sonny Ray would even accept this lifetime responsibility. Sonny Ray was about to go get another cup of coffee when the old man opened his eyes. “Hey Cyrus.” “Hello my son. I know you have many questions, and I am truly sorry that I will not be here to answer them. Do not be anxious over the things concerning the black eagle. Give me a drink of water,” Cyrus said, licking his lips. Sonny Ray helped Cyrus sit up a little. “Thank you.” Sonny Ray nodded, trying to smile bravely now. Cyrus took another drink of water.

Cyrus continued. “I know you are angry at your mother, and at me as well. You may never fully understand all the reasons for the things your mother and I decided upon many years ago. I hope that you can forgive us someday.” Sonny Ray nodded in acknowledgement.

“You have a fine family. Take care of the ones who love you the most. Never forget that.”

Cyrus was having a difficult time breathing. “Go get Dwayne.” Sonny Ray had tears in his eyes.

The quarter moon had not yet made it’s rotation complete, and hung in the sky, like the sail of an ancient hawaiian canoe that was fading on the horizon; in search of a new world in which to live.

The two men knelt on either side of Cyrus. The wind swirled again, causing the fire to throw shards of burning coals upward, into the dark blue black of morning.

The moon lingered in the sky like a promise.

“The life that we live now is one where much value is placed on what you possess.”

The old man’s breathing was ragged now. “As you live your lives, try to reach beyond what you can see, touch, feel. Search for the unseen things. If you do, then you will understand to where the Black Eagle Dream flies, look,” the old man said, fadingly emphatic as he pointed with a weary finger. The two men turned to see what Cyrus was pointing to.

They had not noticed that his arm had fell to his side. Sonny Ray was finally the first to notice. “Dwayne.” He looked down now too.

The old man’s eyes were open, as he appeared to be searching the horizon.

Cyrus had gone his way.

Dwayne placed his hand over his own eyes and began to weep. Sonny Ray was numb. He had lost track of time. He and his siblings had just been standing in a cold sterilized room in the ICU, fixated on an EKG monitor, like it was the big ball counting down in Times Square, on New Year’s Eve.

Time moved in slow motion that day, as they watched their father fade away from this life, into the white horizontal lines of destiny.

Now Sonny Ray was here.

Dwayne continued to hold onto the old man’s hand as he sobbed uncontrollably. Sonny Ray looked into the now vacant eyes of Cyrus. “Goodbye Cyrus. Mahalo nui loa. You never forgot about me, you kept pictures of me. Thanks for never giving up. I will do my best with your black eagle. Or perhaps it will do it’s best with me.

Malama pono on your journey. A hui ho Cyrus, aloha.”

Sonny Ray gently closed the old man’s eyes. It set off a flashpoint of emotions in both of the men. They sat upon the ground for perhaps an hour, watching over the old man, not wanting to give him up.

The sun opened its eyes, and began to look upon the world.

It was not concerned with who lived, and who died.

And it too, will always be.
As sure
as
the sun
will
rise
tomorrow.

Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream