The quiet cape of nature's bliss Surrounding feelings of peace Drifting mist through strands of grass In fog she shifts in a groovy dance Disturbed only by movement born White tail dusting the cloudy air Vaporous fingers on pale stretched legs   Pops out the canines face of smiles Her tongue in happy dangling Carves trails in dews embrace Pomeranian companion Joy is her game Spirit's her name In beautific simplicity   *************************** PRESENT   Not ten minutes ago, the jangle of the phone disturbed the fragile peace. It rang four or five times before my uncle picked it up. In the background I could hear uncles voice in answer.   "Hello?"   Pause   "I'm fine, how're you?   Pause   "Not bad"   Pause   "It's fine. She does her thing and I do mine."   Pause   "There's no need for that. She's no trouble."   Pause   "News to me, never seen that here."   Pause    "Ya well, I'm not gonna do that. Okay? Yup...take care, bye"   "Hey!" Uncle says loudly. "Apparently you're evil incarnate and live off the avails of crime!" "Ya, check out the Mercedes in the driveway...not."   Uncle chuckles, shaking his head. He knows....   Another effort to have me ousted into the street. She tries to manipulate uncle again to have me removed.   What is it? I cannot understand the drive to hurt someone else. I can't even think of such a thing! I never could.   To purposely set out and damage someone, to create homelessness and another emotional scar.   "Who does that?" The old question rattles in my head. My mother, that's who.   As she continues to mess with my personal space, it's difficult not to retaliate. My retaliation comes in the form of silence. The quieter, the better....   How am I feeling?   Pissed   The poem above, I wrote this morning. Just standing in the yard watching my dog bounce in the grass. It occurred to me, its a nice beginning to a chapter that may not be so nice. It's better to think of the poem instead of how annoyed I might be.   We've gone for in-depth DNA testing, my sister and family. A deeper look than just, who's mom or who's dad. We are what we are. What they did resulted in me, my sister and then of course, my youngest sister too are products of our environment.   "Steady the course." I keep telling myself.   "With the wind at your back, just steady the course."   An old phrase but, a very apropos one. It's a nice thought though, which sometimes helps.   *******   Let's look in on her.   We'll do this a fair amount. You, the reader, and myself.   I've got two horses here...one for myself...and finally, one for you.   I'm glad you're here to ride the gauntlet with me.   *************************** PAST   Hearing a woman softly weep disturbed me greatly. Something was terribly wrong.   It did, sporadically, change pitch to a wail, a high pitched cry that escaped her throat under protest and at varying levels. I knew that sound. An odd familiarity enveloped me. Then a memory of the sound of pain.   Strangely, yet not so strange, was the same sound's that came from my sister's mouths...and mine.   The hair on my arms and the back of my neck were singing with little electrical shocks adding to my already alert state. I could not stop myself from going to listen from the bottom of the stairs.   I could hear no children crying. Just the weeping of a woman and a low sinister murmer only a man could make.   I looked to my right and noticed the front door was slightly ajar. Seemed maybe he was in a hurry to come in or too lazy to shut it properly. I didn't know which.   I listened for further signs of distress, I could feel the aching strain in the air. A thick sensation of frightened anticipation.   After a few minutes, I saw her silhouette walk across the hallway entrance into the kitchen. She turned her tear filled face to me and gave me a small smile. Her hand made a downward gesture as if to say,   "Stay...all is well. You can go down now."   Not all of me bought that. The gut feel of dread would not leave me and it became more urgent as the seconds ticked passed.   I walked away uncertain. Not sure of whether I should stay or go. My senses however, remained on high alert.   I kept my ears tight and dialed-in while my other sense peaked. I waited for any changes in pressure or thickness in the air. Attuned to any signs of danger, I knew, even then, I'd feel it quickly.   Sleep could not be attained under such conditions. The night crawled like a centipede across a leaf that ate as it went.   I watched for signs of sunrise. I kept my ears and senses alive the whole time. In what seemed like forever I could hear the sound of small feet that pitter-padded down the hallway toward what I thought was the kitchen area.   I waited and then heard a slightly longer and heavier stride down the hallway, which sounded like Mrs. D's step.   My suspicion nor my fears would abate though. At that time, things seemed normal. I knew then, it wasn't. I found out quickly what it was.   I heard Mrs. D as she moved around the kitchen and the smell of food soon wafted down to me. My stomach growled in spite of my "on alert" status.   The small tapping feet brought the oldest son down. He smiled at me and gave me the peace sign. He then waived at me to come up.   The impression of peace with its tarnished face,  would blow up. I felt sure so I watched and waited for the inevitable boom.   I didn't see Mr. D at the breakfast table. Just myself, the two children and Mrs. D who served up a lovely breakfast of eggs, rice and sausage with the usual portion of Naan and Chai tea.   I heard a toilet flush down the hallway. My heart picked up a beat. I knew it was Mr. D coming down to the table.   I looked up at Mrs. D, she again made the downward motion.   I sat quiet as Mr. D came to the table, greeted his sons,  then looked down on me with his large, flat black eyes.   "I'm berry sorry." He clasped his two hands together as if in prayer.   I looked at him, not knowing how to respond, I just nodded at him.   Breakfast was held in an awkward silence, the tension had barely been disquised by phony smiles. I remained on yellow alert.   I was afraid that something would happen when I wasn't there. Afraid that I would come home to something brutal. Even worse, that I would come home to something dead.   My senses would not let me go.   So I watched.   I listened.   I gave all my attention....   I didn't wait for long....   *************************** PRESENT   I had not yet learned that chaos followed me wherever I went. Like a magnet South to North. Any direction I went, so did it.   Or perhaps a comparison would be a picture attached to the fridge. The image remained as long as the magnet held its sway.   Thinking back on those days and how many that went by when I didn't know any better.   I wasn't sure if I was doing good or making yet, another mistake.   Such was life though when you're unprepared. When all you had was your rage.   So we forge ahead regardless of the bumps and scrapes along the way....   Author Notes A chapter from the book "Spectre" book two of "The Spirit Series". Artist Lea Tonin

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