Walking the Peace Trail

               “Close your eyes, breath. Let your consciousness expand all around you. Feel your barriers dissolve and feel the connection of everything all around you. Feel that all matter and energy is one, coming from the same Source.”

Angel straightened his back ever so slightly, relaxed his shoulders down away from his neck, and released a deep and lengthy exhale. They started each morning this way. Before first light, his father and he would find a secluded area where they could see the sunrise and do their morning practice. They would sit, control their breathing, and his father would lead a meditation where he would impart a lesson or guidance for Angel to ponder throughout the day. These pieces of wisdom were all a part of Angel’s training in how to move through the world with grace and benevolence. His father told him once, “Walking is not as simple as it seems. People take it for granted, and they let their minds carry them away in all directions with their feet like the wind through the pines. We must learn to manage our impulses if we want to see things clearly for what they are.”

His father was a healer, a traveler, going from town to town with his only goal of leaving each place better than he had found it. This principle applied to anywhere and everywhere. They would often pick up trash on the side of the road they were walking, or they would clean up campgrounds of people who had left wrappers or beer cans from their previous stay. Angel often found this a bit tedious, or he would become easily frustrated at the disrespect the other people seemed to embody. However, he always listened to his father and tried to his best. His father had a commanding presence about him, but there was no fear or panic he emitted or induced. Rather, it was a calming wave that washed over you and made your senses more clearly observed in your mind. When he spoke, you trusted the words that came out of his mouth as if there were a power to them that others did not have.

His mother had passed away during childbirth, his father said, 14 years and 364 days ago. He was an only child, and his father had no family to speak of either. When he was younger, Angel would often ask his father if they had other family to which his father simply replied, “The world is our family, mijo, we must aim to love each and every being in this way.” This was a point of contention as Angel grew, but no matter how doggedly he asked his father he always received the same answer in the exact same tone and in the exact same cadence until one day he finally stopped asking. The spark of curiosity had not gone out, but he had learned to not let it burn out of control.

 Today in their travels, they were a top a mountain, looking over a pristine lake, surrounded by spruce, pine, and fir trees. There was no breeze yet, as the sun was not high enough in the sky, and hardly a creature was stirring. Angel loved these moments where he could sense the stillness between moments. It was similar to the moment between breaths where the rhythm of the inhale and the exhale turned over on itself like a cresting wave. They were transitory moments and by their nature fleeting, so when they came Angel made sure to savor them.

As the sun rose higher in the sky and Angel could feel the warmth from the rays begin to emanate throughout his body. It was at this moment his father and him opened their eyes, both grinning, and saying a silent prayer of thanks as they let the beauty of the pink hued sky fill their eyes and their souls. His father was adamant in his teachings. One particularly important one was that one must be grateful for all that is around. This helps to build the inner mountain of peace and strength that will aid a person in whatever their quest may be because just as the mountain erodes through wind, water, and wear overtime so does the inner mountain and this must be restored. This was another function of the morning practice, and it was why they preferred to stay outside of the towns they visited. Often people would offer to host them for the night, but his father always politely declined and would ask for a ride to the nearest campground instead. At first Angel thought this was rude and he desperately wanted to sleep in a bed from time to time, but as he grew older, little by little, he started to understand more of his father’s wisdom and his respect and admiration for his father grew in turn.

  It was only moments after they stood up and worked the stiffness out of their limbs, they heard a loud bang and a cry coming from south of their position less than a mile away it seemed. They did not need to look at each other for instinct had kicked in. They both grabbed their packs and started running towards the direction of the scream. It took them less than half an hour to follow the shouts and arrive at the scene. The closer they came the clearer the picture became. They found themselves in a meadow with three young hunters clad in camo hunting attire standing in a semi-circle hovering over another one of their companions who was laying on the ground, clutching the right side of his face. The three hunters standing over him looked ghostly pale as sweat dripped down their faces and necks. Angel could smell the alcohol evaporating through their pores.

“Stand back!”, his father yelled hurriedly, yet without a hint of condemnation. He dropped to his knees and began rifling through the zippers of his rucksack. Angel dropped his pack next to his father’s and began to herd the other hunters back a few yards. “It was an accident I swear!”, the hunter on Angel’s right stammered, visibly shaking. “I yelled clear, but he didn’t move in time!”

“Shit, Tommy, what are you doing taking a shot so close to him in the first place!”, the hunter in the middle yelled back. “I didn’t do it on purpose! It was just…it was just instinct, and I thought he would get out of the way like you’re supposed to!”, Tommy retorted, not sounding fully convinced himself. He was still shaking, struggling with what had just transpired. The last hunter just stood still with clenched fists and his head looking straight to the ground subtly sobbing. Tommy looked at the other hunter and said, “Johnny I’m really sorry man, I didn’t mean to do it. I thought he would move…I really did.” His last words more spoken to himself than anywhere else. “Johnny don’t want to hear no apology right now, ass hole, can’t you see that? Don’t you know what you just did?” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”, Tommy repeated over and over again with each repetition starting to breakdown more and more until he was crying in his hands.

 Angel knelt over by his dad to see if he could help with anything. “How is he?”, he asked. “He’ll live.”, his father replied. “Half his ear is shot off, and he’ll have scars on half his face, but his eye is fine, and nothing made its way past his skull.” Angel sighed in relief. His father then proceeded to put his hands over the injured area, closed his eyes, and started breathing deeply while reciting some words in an uninterpretable language. Suddenly a flash came from his hands. It was quick and his hands had blocked most of the light from escaping. Plus, Angel had blocked the view of the hunters. Not that they would have noticed, they were too busy caught up in their own emotions to be aware of anything else. When his father had removed his hands, the shrapnel began to push itself out from the wounds while the skin began to scab over. There was still blood all over his face, so Angel wet a rag and began to wipe it clean while his father mixed a salve from herbs in his pack. He spread the salve over the hunter’s injured areas and Angel wrapped his head with fresh bandages.

   It was at the moment Angel finished wrapping the hunter’s head that he began to flutter his eyes open. Angel looked at the hunter’s green bewildered eyes and did his best to reflect back compassion in his to help reassure him that everything was okay. “What…What happened? Who are you? Why does my head feel tight?”, the hunter managed to ask. “You’re okay, friend, you were shot in the head, but my father managed to heal your wounds and we applied some medication to help with scarring. Please leave it on until you wake up tomorrow morning.”, Angel replied.

“Jesus, Hank, are you okay, really?!”, the hunter who hadn’t spoken yet had come running up to them. “Oh, Thank God, Thank Christ, thank you two! I don’t know what would have happened if you guys hadn’t shown up. I was too much of a mess to do anything.”, with this last exclamation he punched the ground, holding back his tears at this point. “What happened Johnny?”, Hank asked still lying on the ground. “Bill fucking shot you is what happened,” yelled the hunter who was arguing with Bill before as they both moved towards their friend on the ground. “Bill shot me?”, Hank asked still clearly very disoriented. “I did! I did, and I’m so sorry Hank! It was an accident! I yelled clear, but you didn’t get out of the way and the bird flew right by you…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the shot in the first place this is all my fault!” Bill looked almost wildly inconsolable at this point.

   “Here, you all need to drink this,” Angel’s father said as poured some cold liquid out from a thermos into four cups. “It will help calm you down, so you all can help carry this man out of here without making things worse.” They all took their cups one by one a bit hesitantly, but once they finished the brew their savior had given them, they seemed to calm down ever so slightly. At least no one was shaking or sobbing anymore. 

 As Angel and his father were tying up their packs, Johnny asked them, “What are your names? I need to know the names of the men who saved my brother.” Angel smiled; he knew the routine. “Our names are not important,” his father replied, “we are all one and harm done to you is harm done to me. So, I guess that makes me you and you me.” Angel was used to his father’s cryptic way of talking, and he enjoyed the confusion that creeped over peoples’ faces that were not accustomed to it. “Well…okay then,” Johnny did not press the subject anymore – something in the back of his head told him not to. “Will you two at least come to our cabin with us? It’s not too far off here and we could at least cook you a meal in thanks, and it might not be a bad idea to have you guys around in case something happens with Hank.”

   Angel’s father stuck out his hand in consolation and met Johnny’s gaze, “Thank you for your kind offer, but we must be going we have other business to attend to. I assure you though; your brother will be fine as long as he leaves the bandages on until tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to take him to a medical professional after that if you wish. I know officials will be eager to hear the story of what happened here.” “Are you sure there isn’t anything we can do for you?” Johnny pleaded. “You can be more careful from now on and make a point to be thinking of the others before yourself and then maybe situations like this can be avoided in the future.” This last command carried more weight than his other words, and Angel and his father left the four hunters standing still in contemplation in the meadow as they made their way out of the clearing. 

  It typically happened this way whenever his father was called into action. When he was younger, Angel asked why he always deflected from taking any credit. To which his father replied, “Intention matters and a good deed looking for credit doesn’t have the power of a good deed with pure intentions.”

They got a few miles away from the scene of the incident and they sat by a river to stop and fish for lunch. After catching two trout and cooking them with some vegetation they foraged in the forest, Angel’s father broke the silence. “Mijo, tomorrow you turn 15.” Angel looked at him and nodded. “This is a very important day for you. This is the day of your inheritance. As you know your mother died in childbirth that is because you, just as I am, were born with more than most. Our line descends from an ancient one that has power running through its veins. It is this power that allows me to perform the works I am able to perform. However, it is only possible for this power to exist in one being at a time. We are the stewards of this world; it is our job to protect and heal it. This means that tonight I must leave this world, so that you may continue our destined work.”

 Angel always accepted what his father had said, but right now he could not come to grips with it. “I always knew there was something special about us, but why does that mean you have to leave?” Tears were filling Angel’s eyes the likes of which he had not experienced since his father had first explained to him about his mother’s passing. “Mijo, this is the way it must be. It has been my duty to protect, serve, and train you to inherit this mission. I know it seems sudden, but in a way, it is not either. Your whole life has been leading up to this, and I am confident in your abilities. You have grown into one fine young being, and I know you will continue to honor our work.”

 “It’s not fair though! I will be all alone now! I can’t do this without you!”, Angel cried in anger. “Shh. Breath young one, I have told you time and again the world is your family. You will never be alone. All matter and energy are connected, and you remain a part of this with a great purpose.” “I know this, but, still, there is a great pain inside of me.” “I know, Angel, it was with me as well when my father told me, but in time that pain will turn to strength. I promise.”

 They sat in silence for a while, letting the magnitude of the situation settle in. Angel broke the silence this time, “So what is going to happen to you?” His father replied, “I will go back to the Source of all things tonight. You will help me complete the ceremony so that my strength and wisdom may pass to you.” “What must we do?” Angel’s father sat for a moment seemingly pondering what he should say next, this was the first time Angel had ever seen him do this. All will be clear tonight. Until then we must make our way to top of the mountain. They packed up their things and began on their way.

Night was creeping upon them when they reached the summit of the mountain and there under some snow was a boulder blocking the entrance into the mountain. Angel’s father spoke under his breath and the boulder rolled away. They walked down into the mountain until they reached a lake roughly the size of the meadow they were in earlier that day. The moon’s reflection was near the center of the lake. “It is almost time,” Angel’s father said, “quickly undress and come to the center with me.” Angel did as he was told. They reached the center and his father began to float on his back, a look of peace upon his face he had never seen before. “Soon the moon will reach its zenith and the ceremony will begin. Hold my head, mijo.” Again, Angel did as he was told, strangely he felt a similar sort of calm wash over him.

 The moon’s reflection was now in the center of the lake, washing over his father. The lake began to glow, a white and blue hue enveloped the room. “Now, Angel, it is time. Put your hand on my head and my heart.” As he did, he felt a surge of energy flood into him. Along with it came visions that he had never seen before. Images and words from long, long ago came rushing into his mind. It was so powerful he thought he was going to feint. “Breath, dissolve your barriers and become one.” Angel did this and things became more manageable. “I am proud of you Angel. I know you will do your best.” And with that, Angel’s father sunk into the lake his bodily seemingly dissipating before Angel’s eyes. Angel was left alone in the middle of the lake the moon’s reflection drifting off past center. There was no more sadness in Angel’s heart, only acceptance and peace. He finally understood perfectly all the things his father had been trying to impart to him. Now, he had a clear sense of purpose and direction, and he was ready and willing to carry on his mission.