Contributed by Charles Dean Walker
The night skies black with speck stars, holes in the universe.
In the atmosphere of earth, a light hue of colors river out. The colors spread throughout the clear Alaska skies. A soft heavenly light shown through. Inside the golden ray, was an animal kingdom.
Upon which the spirits in peace work an' play. Among these animals of many shapes, was an owl. This owl to the human eye has no defining color, shade, nor hue. It spreads its wings outward. He flaps rapidly, then like a bolt flies intently out.
The moon shines its light, as the owl looks upon the earth, his eyes an eagle. In all this, he watches an' sees all the actions of man. He breathes a dirty breath. A cough roughs out. On the ground snow blankets. Wilderness from afar.
Dead trees, leafless covered in lines of snow from branch to branch.
Hungry wildlife still awake search for food. An arctic fox comes from the ground, she's in for the kill. The owl was pleased. Nature a seemingly dying thing, prevails in living. “This air’s still dirty, but cleaner than the cities. Mother cries, but I feel healing sometime,” the owl thought.
Somewhere in the Arctic, the owl lands his feet on an extended branch. The winds are rapidly wiping as he sits awhile. Though the weather is a fright from hell, he feels nothing. A spirit never feels any such thing, yet the living would feel a warm aura, commonly seen as a loving wrap. This feeling is only felt for a short distance at a time.
The owl thought to himself. “He's here for a specific reason, a person. Any person would do.
His intentions are to grab gently on the soul, with permission, so that whenever he's needed whether it be day or night. He must do this tonight, or else he'd be stuck in the lights yet another night.”
Unfortunately like a living bird, he too must rest, for but one hour. In any other occasion, this wouldn't be a problem, but with a limited timespan every action must be done precisely and calculated as much as possible. As the hour ends, he decides to fly up the air. Once airborne, his face will be bent down on civilization.
Somewhere just before a little town, a lone boy is walking through the woods. He's bundled up head to toe, with many layers of coat snow pants, an' snowshoes. A few trees stand cleanly frosted on each side of him. The owl quickly swoops down landing perfectly on the nearest branch. He lets out a hoot, letting the boy know his presence.
The boy taken aback at first looks upwards. He feels a warm aura around him. In his sights, a gentle, light brown owl. The owl slowly speaks, in order to let the boy process this unbelievable situation.
“I see your young heart is open,” said the brown owl in a pleased tone.
The boy still aback gasps, speechless. For a moment of his shock, he could only think. Then he finally says, “I must be dying!” The owl knew this would happen. “No, my boy. You're very much alive. Why, as much alive as I am a spirit,” he said in a cheerful understanding tone.
“B-bu-but how can this be?” the boy questioned in shock. The brown owl began to explain.
Few centuries ago, there lived a native tribe in pre-America, then called the New World. A strange man from a ship came upon this land. While here he seemingly befriended the local natives. The natives showed great kindness an' respect to him and his crew. They kept to their everyday customs. This man was pleased by the strange new people.
Soon, the man sailed his way back home.
When he returned, more of his people came too. They enslaved the peaceful natives. Horrible disease claimed many lives.
The natives had enough, so they escaped, running far off into nature.
The enslavers chased them down. The natives knew there wasn't hope left. They’d rather die, than be taken once again. So while at a giant cliff, they fell to their deaths.
In their death, something happened. Beams of a gold light illuminated from the ground. Out of these beams came three birds.
There was the raven, the black bird of death; the crow the black bird of ignorance and hate; then there was, I the owl. As the owl, I watch over the people and Mother as a guardian. My goal is to bring about hope and peace, to stop the ravens and crows.
“So, then why did you come to me?” the boy asked. “Because I've come to ask a favor of you. Let me grab on to your soul,” the owl said.
The boy couldn't believe this. “Let you grab my soul, but why?, I'm no devil,” the boy said fearfully. The owl quickly answered, “No, my boy. You misunderstand. You'll still have your soul, all I'd do is grab it gently to attach,” said the owl. The boy was puzzled now, “What do you mean by attach?" he asked. The owl thought this question reasonable. “My boy, when I attach to your soul, this will allow me to be called upon the earth day or night,” the owl said with importance. For many years, the owl has felt a great sorrow for the humans. For much of this time, he only wished he could help. He was only a bird though. There's not much he could do.
The boy thought deeply. Then agreed.
The owl flew to him, reaching out his feet.
They landed softly on the boy’s head. A blue hued beam shown brightly. Soon the owl’s body merged with the boy’s soul.
He then knew his name. “Chace,” he said to himself.
“Son, stretch out your arms,” said the Owl.
Chace did just so. Suddenly, giant translucent-white-as-clouds wings took formation. The Owl flapped his arms like a puppet. And at great speed, they together took flight.