There's Always Tomorrow (Immortal Series) (19 page)

Tony closed his
eyes in dismay.
 
“That’s really a
shame.
 
I think someday I’ll make a
movie of my own, telling the true story of Marie Laveau.

“Marie was a
healer and she worked tirelessly trying to save the poor fever victims.
 
She had a lot of success.
 
I found her to be extremely smart and
courageous.
 
She was also very
intuitive.
 
I could not fool
her.
 
One night, she took me aside
and said she prayed for me.
 
She
gave me this tattoo.”
 
Tony exposed
his inner left wrist, revealing a very small symbol.

“I wondered
what that was,” Sophie pondered.
 
“It’s very unusual.
 
Could I
have one?”

Tony shook his
head.
 
“I don’t think that would be
a good idea, darling.
 
It’s Haitian
Juju, and it’s there to help me accept all that, which I cannot change.

“The oddest
thing happens, when I’m under extreme stress.
 
The damn thing itches almost to the point of burning.
 
I rub it, and I feel an energy surge
through my body.
 
It has come to my
aid more than once.

“Oh, you might
be interested to know that she predicted I’d meet you.”

That, immediately,
got Sophie’s attention.
 
She about
choked on her spit.
 
“What?
 
Me?” she shrieked.
 
“She knew me?”

“Calm down,
sweetie.
 
Marie said she could
sense the sadness in my heart, but it would be temporary.
 
In the distant future, I’d meet a woman
that would wash away my tears and set my feet on the path I should have walked,
many years earlier.
 
The
child-like
woman with yellow curls
, would bring me true happiness, she said.”

“No shit.”
 
Sophie was stunned.
 
“Well, what about the Lakota
Indians?
 
That is why we’re here,
isn’t it?”
 
She swung her arm in a
wide circle, taking in the entire valley below.

“We’re here
because I want to be alone with my new wife.
 
We’re here because I wanted you to see this beautiful and
rich land through my eyes, and yes…we are here for me to say goodbye and let go
of the past.”

“I thought it
was something like that.
 
Everywhere we’ve stopped, you’ve lived there, before, and you’ve said
goodbye to a special memory.”

Tony nodded;
his heart ached for this woman.
 
She was tender and so understanding of his needs.
 
Sophie was also very intuitive.
 
Marie had been correct.
 
Sophie would heal his soul.

“It’s getting
late, and since I’m not getting any sex tonight, I’ll make it brief.”
 
He gave Sophie his forlorn look.
 
It was meant to warm her cold, cold
heart, but all it did was cause her to giggle.

“Go on,
Tony.
 
I’ll think about the sex,
later.”

“You’re a hard
woman, Mrs. Barton.”

“Not as hard as
you, Mr. Barton,” she purred, as she stroked his swollen groin.

“Yes.
 
Well, like I said, I’ll make this
quick.

“I wandered
around, after leaving New Orleans.
 
Once again, I was totally alone.
 
It was the Civil War that introduced me to a Yankee soldier, by the name
of Paul Grant.
 
We met at
Gettysburg.
 
I was on the losing
side, naturally.
 
He shot me, I
bayoneted him, and then we left the battlefield, together.
 
He was the first immortal I’d met since
Thomas and I were turned.
 
He
taught me many things, and has become a true brother to me.

“Throughout the
history of the world, many of the major characters have been aided by
our
kind
.
 
There was one particular
colonel, in the Third Reich, that I wished I’d gotten my hands on.
 
Unfortunately, Grant got to him first.”
 
Tony smirked.

“After Grant
and I went our separate ways—he to look for the bad guys and me to
continue my search for an end to my curse—I decided to investigate an old
Lakota shaman, I’d once heard about.
 
It was rumored that he had magical powers, the power over life and
death.
 
I needed to speak with
him.
 
My search brought me here, to
the Paha Sapa.
 
It was first, home
to the Cheyenne, and then to the Sioux.

“I met with
Soaring Eagle.
 
I told him my story
and how I longed for a cure, or at least an end to the curse.
 
The old shaman sat and listened
patiently, without showing any sign of disbelief.
 
He finally shook his head.
 
He was very old and extremely wise, but he said he could not
help me.

“In his lodge,
he had many strange and wonderful things.
 
I remember bundles of herbs and sweet grass, filled baskets sitting on
the floor.
 
Hanging from the lodge
poles, were various pipes and eagle feathers, even a few scalps could be
found.
 
There were jars of salves
and poultices to heal wounds and cure infections.

“The old man
stood and gathered a few herbs.
 
He
crushed them, mixed them with a yellow powder, and passed the mixture through
the smoke of burning sage.
 
He
prayed over it, and then he pressed it into a small leather pouch.”
 
Tony lovingly fondled the small pouch
hanging around his neck by a rawhide cord.
 
“He strung it on a rawhide cord and tied it around my
neck.
 
I’ve never removed it.
 
It is to see me safely through to the
Place of Souls.

“He told me to
live each life I had, as if it were my last.
 
He told me much happiness could be found, if only I would
open my eyes.
 
He was right.
 
He saw a dark headed angel waiting for
me.
 
I would know her when I saw
her.
 
She would save me from the
gates of hell.”
 
Tony winked at
Sophie, and kissed her forehead.

Sophie was
mesmerized by his tale of the old shaman.
 
“Did you find this dark angel?”

“I did.
 
I met her in Chicago, and she
absolutely saved my soul from destruction.”

“I’d like to
thank her,” Sophie said, earnestly.

“I’m sorry,
darling, but she’s been gone a long, long time.
 
That is the painful truth of living forever.”
 
His eyes filled unexpectedly with
unshed tears.
 
“However, I know her
great-granddaughter still lives there.
 
Maybe one day, the two of you will meet.
 
Stranger things have happened.”

Getting back to
his story, Tony kissed his wife’s sweet lips and continued on.
 
“I soon met the old man’s
granddaughter, Silver Leaf.
 
She
was the gentlest of all of God’s creatures, and so very beautiful that she made
the angels weep with envy.”
 
Tony’s
eyes clouded over, as if he could see her still, standing before him.
 
“I offered three ponies for her.
 
She was worth many more, but I was
poor, and it was all I had.
 
Luckily for me, I played a wicked courting flute.
 
It was my music that won her
hand.”
 
He chuckled.
 
“We were married in the Lakota
tradition.
 
Her father taught me
all that a brave must know, to become a warrior.
 
I was prepared to live many years with the people.
 
But it wasn’t to be.”

Tony got up and
stood looking out over the dark valley.
 
The campfire had burned itself out.
 
No doubt, the cowboy had called it a day.

He rubbed his
hands over his face.
 
It was
painful to recall the details.
 
He
had suffered much, and for many years he had tried to suppress the memories.
 
Only in nightmares, had he relived the
incidents, and sometimes, in vivid detail.

Tony took a deep
breath and let it out.
 
“The
following summer was dry, and the buffalo were growing fewer in number.
 
The only thing that could be found in
abundance was the white man.
 
He
gobbled up everything.
 
If he
couldn’t use it, he destroyed it for others.
 
I hated him.
 
I
was ashamed to be white.

“But I also
found joy that summer.
 
Silver Leaf
gave birth to my twins…one boy and one girl.
 
They were born on my birthday, in fact.”

“What day is
that, Tony?
 
You’ve never said.”

“You’ve never
asked,” he replied, rather pointedly.

“Sorry.”

“Our birthday
is June first.
 
They were the
cutest little mites.
 
Both,
resembled their mama, thank heavens.
 
They were copper-skinned, with hair as black as a raven’s wing.
 
I remember it stuck straight out, all
over their little round heads.”
 
Tony smiled.
 
“They were
Sioux, through and through, except for their bright green eyes.
 
It was the damnedest thing.
 
Soaring Eagle was pleased with them and
said they walked in two worlds.

“We were very
happy.
 
It was the summer of
1864.
 
Life with the people was
hard, but very satisfying.
 
In
fact, I had never been happier.
 
Silver Leaf and I took great pleasure in our children.
 
I recall her sewing small items of
clothing for our babies, and lining the cradleboards with soft rabbit fur.
 
She sang Lakota lullabies, in her soft
voice.
 
My soul finally felt at
peace.

“Then, we heard
bad news.
 
It was cold.
 
November, to be exact.
 
An entire Cheyenne village had been
massacred in Colorado.
 
It was
inhuman in its savagery.
 
Two
thirds of the village was women and children.
 
Soon, the story of Sand Creek reached every Cheyenne,
Arapaho, and Lakota village.
 
The
atrocities were told around the fires.
 
Every member, of every tribe, knew what the white man had done to the
red man.
 
We no longer trusted the
Grandfather in Washington, nor his blue-coated soldiers.
 
Vengeance would be taken, and we
prepared for war.

“It did not
come soon.
 
Thankfully, for several
years, our lives continued without too much disruption, but the threat of war
was always there.
 
It was getting
more difficult for the braves to find enough buffalo to feed the village, and
we stayed out longer on our hunts.”
 
Tony paused and breathed in the cool night air, as if to clear his head.

“It was during
one of the hunts, that great tragedy came to us.
 
Soldiers rode through our village, and finding no braves,
they rounded up the women and children.
 
It was thought that they were hiding their men.
 
Only the very old men had remained in
camp.
 
When Soaring Eagle protested
the treatment of the women and children, the soldiers set fire to his
lodge.
 
He tried to put it out and
they beat him for it.”

Tony swallowed
and looked down at Sophie.
 
When he
again spoke, she noticed his voice had grown thick and hoarse with
emotion.
 
“My wife, Silver Leaf …”
He paused again, taking his time.

“Silver Leaf
could not bear to see her grandfather struck, over and over again.
 
She ran into our teepee and picked up
my pistol.
 
She had never fired it.
 
I no longer used it, but kept it for
old time’s sake, I guess.
 
Brave
beyond all reason, Silver Leaf fired the pistol, hitting the officer square in
the chest.
 
Before his body hit the
dirt, the soldiers had cut my wife down with a dozen bullets.
 
Our young son saw his mother fall.
 
He was ten summers, and thought himself
a brave.
 
Armed with a small knife,
I had given him, clutched tightly in his hand, he launched himself at the
nearest soldier.”
 
Tears rolled
down Tony cheeks.
 
“My son never
had a chance.
 
After they killed
him, they set fire to all the teepees.
 
They stole what they didn’t manage to burn.

“It was the
single worse day of my life, when I road back into the village and saw what the
soldiers had done.
 
We had seen the
smoke, but were not prepared for what awaited us.
 
Only a few, of our tribe, were spared.
 
They told us what happened.”