That evening I was feeling vindicated. Powerful in a way I haven’t ever felt. I wrote down my thoughts. A brief layout of an experiment I wanted to conduct. I’m going to wait until I see Ms. Brown next Wednesday. Speak not. Those two words felt like they had meaning. I got ready for bed as I always do. This time I wrote a note and crumpled it up in my fist.
I got into the bed. I pulled the blankets up to my chin. The blinds were open and the street illuminated by moonlight. I saw Sleep walk from the corner then sit on my bed. I did what he did to me ten years ago. I opened my fist and reached out to him.
“A gift? For me?” He seemed surprised.
I felt his long fingers wrap around the note then heard him unfold it.
“Why me? There is no me. Don’t flatter yourself.” The words drifted lazily into my ears. He must have seen my forehead wrinkle in confusion.
“The arrangements from yesterday wears heavy on the child of tomorrow. Do you want a gift? Nod.”
I’m even more confused. How come no one in the family tried this? Have they? What is happening? I’m not sure what is going. Last time I spoke more then 5 words Sleep snapped my finger in half. The fear is coming back. A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed hard and nodded meekly.
“Close your eyes or this will hurt more.”
I felt a shift on the bed as if he was leaning over. Suddenly I felt a cold damp palm on my head. I gasped out loud. All five fingers wrapped around my skull. Slowly I felt the tips of his fingers sharpen into needles. They dug into my head and then nothing.
I opened my eyes and I was in the middle of the woods. From my vantage point I was off the ground at least ten feet up. My eyes pointed straight ahead. I had no ability to move. In my field of vision I saw a naked man slowly enter it. He looked familiar.
The man has long black hair to his shoulders with red streaks of what looked like paint running horizontally across his face and chest. He had a leather pouch on a belt tied around his waist. I couldn’t figure out where I’ve seen him before. He undid his belt and set it aside then he began gathering twigs, branches, and dry brush. After a neat pile he stood up again and walked away out of my field of vision. He came back again with rocks of roughly the same size then started arranging them in a circle.
Where have I seen him before? All the wood and brush he acquired went into the makeshift pit. He squatted down and started a fire. Once the fire was roaring he pulled out a kettle. He sat the kettle next to him and pulled out some plant material out of his bag. He put the plant material in the kettle then suspended it over the fire using a handcrafted pot hook and stand. Every couple of minutes he would give it a stir using wooden spoon. Once it looked ready he pulled out a cup and poured the tea in. He blew on it to cool it down. After it cooled down he drank it.
If this was a dream it was very vivid. The sun was beginning to set. I was still stuck. Still unable to move. It felt like an eternity. The man was sitting cross legged by the fire with his eyes closed. Time felt like it was being pulled and stretched at the seams. Seconds felt minutes. Minutes felt like hours.
Suddenly the man’s eyes flicked open as wide as they could go. His pupil’s were dilated. Beads of sweat began forming in his brow. He started making a low droning sound and began pounding on his chest rhythmically. Thump. Thump thump. The fire seemed to join in the song with crackles and pops.
I wish I could have shouted out. I wish I could yelled. Is this a dream? Where am I? Why can’t I move? I was stuck watching a man high out of his mind. I still had no perception of time. Maybe ten minutes past and the man leapt up into a ferocious stance. He started sprinting around the fire and began yelling.
“I call to you. I call to you. I will let you in. I will let you in. I need your help!”
His shouting was earnest yet desperate. His body was drenched in sweat and the stripes were running. After a while of shouting I felt something. The first something I can feel for this entire experience. My fingers wiggled in my right hand. I felt my right arm and it entered my field of vision. It wasn’t my arm. Sleep reached his arm out and placed it on the man’s shoulders. He stopped running, paused, then looked up at where I was standing.
“Tell Deborah I said hello.” The man spoke but it was Sleep’s voice.
I immediately woke up drenched in sweat at sunrise. I felt something was wrong. I called into work and told them I can’t make it due to a family emergency. I fixed my breakfast of yogurt and granola and waited until Ms. Brown’s office opened. Around 8:30am I received a phone call.
“Is Rick there?” The receptionist was holding back tears I can tell.
“This is him.”
“Ms. Brown passed away in her sleep. I’ll have to cancel your appointment. Her husband mentioned that he found an envelope with your name on it. He’ll drop it off at the office for you. Please come by in the afternoon to pick it up.”
“No. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have… it’s my fault. I mean. I’m sorry. I really am.” I sighed deeply. I can’t reach out to anyone. I am all alone in my struggle with Sleep.
I took out the book of my family history and stepped outside. The cool air felt great. I felt so sick. I’m so dumb. I knew this would have happened. The image of the naked man was seared into my brain though. I had to move on and figure out what to do. An arrangement? Did that man make an arrangement with Sleep? How do I factor into this? I flipped through the pages and all the family pictures. Studying each face. There were pictures decades back. On one of the pages I found a family tree of sorts. I looked towards the top of the tree. Each name had an arrow pointing away from it drawn in sharpie and connected to a note.
Died in a fire.
Died in their sleep.
Died by strangulation.
The first name there was circled. Joseph. I followed the arrow towards a note.
Body never found.
That wasn’t the weird part to me. I looked at who he was married to. Rita. My Grandma Rita. That would have made her… nearly 200 years old? I thought I had a plan to help prove I’m not crazy. Now I need a plan to figure out what is going on.
When Rita passed she packed away several boxes and had me put them in the garage. Keepsakes and mementos. Maybe there were more clues tucked away in the boxes. I went back inside and headed towards the garage. I started pulling down boxes and moving them towards the living room.
Rita loved being organized. She had written in black sharpie what each box contained. Journals. Mementos. Photo albums. Tribal.
Wait. Tribal? No one ever mentioned this to me. I opened the box and sitting at the very top was her tribal ID. And perhaps a couple dozen more. I picked them up and went through them. I came across my parents. At the very end was mine. Plain as day. My name. My tribal ID.
I opened my phone and googled the tribe. They were forcibly removed from several states away in the 1820s and came to… the state where I’m in now. I looked up where the main office is. Google says it’s just a twenty minute drive. I don’t know what to do with this information but I do know I have a letter to pick up. I drive over to my therapist’s office to retrieve the letter from the receptionist. I needed time to think.
“Hi Rick. Thank you for coming. Would you like to set up an appointment with another therapist?” She handed me the letter.
“No. I’m ok. Again I’m really sorry. Tell her husband I’m really sorry and I’m going to make this better. I shouldn’t have gotten anyone involved.” I apologized again and walked out holding the letter.
I parked my car on the street in front of my house. I pulled out the letter and opened it.
“Don’t blame yourself. Take care of yourself. Take care of Sleep.”
I sat in my car with letter opened on my lap. My phone rang.
“Is this Rick?” it was a man. Someone I didn’t know. “Debbie was my wife. She was very upset last night. At first I thought she was cheating on me but then she wrote down what you told her. I don’t know if I can help but can you try and explain this to me?” he sounded sincere.
“Listen. I can’t tell you. Your going to end up dead like everyone else. This book I have about my family history has numerous accounts of people dying. I dont want..” I tried explaining.
“A book? Is there any way you could photo copy it?” he asked. He was interested but I’m not sure. “If this is sealing my fate and if I will die I at least want to know. Can I meet you?”
The book is at least over 100 pages. Plus all my notes and observations. What could we even do? I guess I do owe him an explanation. I do owe him answers.
“Ok.”
We arranged to meet somewhere. His name was William. He himself looked like he hasn’t slept in years. I showed him how massive the book was and how much information it contained.
“Whoa. I thought my wife was crazy at first. I thought you were crazy. But if this is as real as she thinks. And as real as it’s been for you… I need to do this for her. She made a promise to help. She made a promise to help you.” he sighed deeply.
We started the process of making copies. Page by page he was reading about my family. Even though there were no pictures before 1920 I filled him in with the information I’m still processing about my Grandma Rita. How this has been going on longer then when it initially was written about. Several hours in we paused to grab some coffee and food.
“It all started with Joseph you think? And this grandma of yours was his wife? This is all unbelievable. The shop closes soon. I don’t know what we can do. Let’s finish copying this then can I come over and we can go through the rest of her boxes? You said she had one labeled Journals. There might be more information.”
We headed back to the store and finished copying everything. It was getting late. We took separate cars and I led him to my house. We went in and I showed him the boxes. I was so exhausted and so was William.
“Hey. How about we make some coffee? Order some pizza? If I’m going to die tonight… Let’s at least stay up until it happens. Your testing ideas. Let’s call this an experiment.”
I haven’t had a sleepover in ten years. Even if it was grim it could be fun. This couldn’t possibly get any more bizarre then it already was. I was around 9pm when we started going through all of Grandma Rita’s boxes. Besides the tribal cards there were other objects that looked like they belong in a museum. Baskets, wooden carvings, pottery, leather pouches. I held one of the pouches in my hand. I looked it over. I think.. this is the one that was used in my vision. This was the one Joseph used in the ritual. I pulled it out and set it aside. I mentioned it to William.
The next box I wanted to go through was Journals. I opened it and there must have been a dozen or so notebooks. I knew she liked scrapbooking but this seemed more then that. I spread them out on the floor scanning each one. One caught my eye. Rituals.
“Rituals?” we both spoke at the same time.
I felt a sudden chill down my spine. My muscles started to tense. What time is it? I should be in bed. 11pm. How did it get so late? William noticed a shift in my demeanor.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“I.. I’m not sure. I need to be in bed. I need to close my eyes..” I was straining to get any words out.
“Listen to me. I’ll go through this book. Let me read it.” he insisted.
My eyes were open and I was staring at William going through this. He was reading out loud and partially musing on what he found. Paint lines on the body to assist opening yourself up. Chant or beat on a drum. My head is starting to get fuzzy. Call out and be clear on what you need. The room was beginning to spin and become distorted. Let the Witnesses come one by one. I was starting to fade.
“Do you think you can ignore me?” Sleep’s words spiraled through my body and pulled me upwards. There was just blackness.
“Rick! Rick! We need to do the ritual!” I heard William panicking. “Come back.”
His pleas were quickly drowned out by Sleep’s melodic voice.
“You cannot escape this. Your father tried and so did fathers before. Joseph gave me keys to his lineage. And with this key I will unlock the Earthly realm to walk again.”