Angels and Indians
By Kate Everson
Smashwords edition
Copyright 2012 Kate Everson
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There was no time to prepare. The Indians were everywhere.
“Throw me your gun, Hank,” I yelled across the lawn. 
He ducked down behind the lawn chair but only threw me a stick. It was a good stick though and it did the job. I came out shooting.
“Blam! Blam!” I shot them all dead in five seconds.
After it was over, I lay on the grass and cooled down. Hank did the same. It had been a rough day playing Cowboys and Indians and we hadn’t even died with our boots on.
Just then Mother came out with a smile and a jug of Kool-Aid.
“Cold drinks for hot cowboys?” she asked.
She did not have to ask twice. We were all over that Kool-Aid like vultures on a dead coyote.
“Darn! That’s good whiskey!” Hank managed to say between huge, thirsty gulps. The strawberry liquid spilled on his clean shirt and he grinned. He didn’t even wipe it off. That was my man.
“Hey, boys,” Mom said. “How about cleaning up and coming in for some warm cookies right out of the oven?”
Well, that little lady did not have to ask twice. We raced to the bathroom and cleaned up enough to be acceptable and tore into the kitchen with cookies on our minds. Mom checked our hands, and sent me back. Hank passed the test and was first at the chocolate chip cookies. I splashed soap on my hands again and raced back. This time I took two, to make up for time delay.
“Whew, glad we got those Indians,” Hank said, wiping his brow. “That was a close call.”
“I know,” I mumbled, my mouth full of crumbs. “You’re a good cowboy, Hank. This western town needs more men like you.”
Hank grinned at me, his white teeth flashing. “I do it all for the good of the west,” he replied and went for another chocolate chip. It was a good day to be a cowboy.
At least that’s the way I remembered it.
It was so many years ago that we had been kids and playing on the lawn. That was when being young was easy, and the world was a gentler place. Death meant nothing to us then, just a thing we did with toy guns.
Now it was something else. Now it was real.
Angels came to visit me now. Not winged women like the artists paint, but real ones, closer than I knew, with love on their breath. They whispered in my ear and told me I was going to be okay. They stole from death and I knew it. 
“We want to keep you,” Angel Gabriella had said as she whispered in my left ear. “Don’t ever forget that.”
I wanted to know more, but they were slow at telling. I could sense them around me a lot now, especially since I had been diagnosed. The cancer demons were all over me, but I could get rid of them if I just knew how. At least that’s what the angels said.
“How can I beat this?” I asked, pleaded with them when I sensed them around me. “What do you want me to do?”
I was desperately afraid. I did not care so much about dying, but I didn’t want to suffer. I had watched my parents both fade away until death claimed them from the malady that has no cure. I didn’t want that to happen to me too. I had so much to live for. Why had I been born if just to live and die? What was it all about?
“Please,“ I pleaded to Gabriella when I could sense her presence in the room. “Just tell me what I have to do to beat this thing. I’ll do anything. Just tell me.”
But I wasn’t perceptive enough, or she wasn’t loud enough, or something. I couldn’t quite get the message.
I began to read books about angels, hoping to get a handle on this death and dying thing. If anyone knew, they would. 
The first book I found, opened up to her page. Gabrielle. I loved the painting of her with huge arched wings. But I knew it wasn’t really her. My angel had no form, no wings, just a shining golden presence. When she was in my room, it was illuminated. When she spoke, my whole body trembled from top to toe. Now, that was some angel!
I wished I had some way of communicating with her. She appeared when I least expected it, and whispered in my ear then vanished. How could I stop her? I wanted so much to sit down and talk. I could tell her all about my life and how it had all been a lie until I met her. I would tell her the absolute truth, because I knew that she would know if I didn’t.
“Gabriella?” I cried out to her in an empty room.
“Can you hear me?”
There was a quiver of pink in a dark corner. I stared and waited. Silence.
“Gabriella? Please …” I implored. “I just need to know you are there. I need you so much. Please come out.”
I sat down on the bed and waited. I put my head in my hands. It was like a game of peek-a-boo, but this time it was for real. I wondered if she would come out if I was looking.
I felt something sit on the bed beside me. Should I peer out? Or would that make her go away?
“Gabriella? Is that you?” I whispered, barely able to speak.
I smelled the essence of a wild flower and I knew it was here.
I opened my eyes and there she was, on the bed beside me, as if she were really there, solid, and not just my imagination. She was smiling but her soft brown eyes held a single tear. I wondered about that.
“Rebekah,” she spoke and I nearly jumped out of my skin. She knew my name. Of course, she did! She knew everything about me. She was my angel.
“I love you,” she said simply, and when her eyes looked at me it was like I was looking into the sun and there was no end to this universe. I could only stare. I could not speak. In fact, I could barely breathe.
Here she was, my angel, sitting as close to me as my own best friend.
“I am,” she smiled, as if she had read my thoughts. Of course she did.
“I am your very best friend. And I care for you.”
“What do I have to do to be well?” I asked. 
She lifted up her arms and held them out to me. Both hands were closed. “Pick one,” she said. 
I picked the one on the left. She opened her hand and there was a shining stone, not a gem but a natural stone from beside the water, all smooth and rounded from the waves. I held it in my hand and it felt like magic.
“This is your touchstone,” she said, and her voice was soothing like waves on the shore. 
Then she was gone.
I looked for her everywhere for days after that, but she never returned. So I took my stone and went down to the lake shore to be with the stones, gently rocking in the cool water. I sat down and listened to the sound. I held my stone tightly so I would not drop it, but then something made my hand relax. 
I took that magical stone and threw it out into the lake.
Far out, the sun glinted on the stone as it hit the water and sank. It was gone now. Forever. I felt I had thrown away my last chance at healing.
But I knew what I had done.
It was the message in the stone.
I heard it on the waves. 
“What you throw away, you keep,” it whispered in the wind.
“What you cling to, you lose.”
I smiled at the sunshine and the water, and walked away. I had let go. I had given it all to the one who made it. I had released my self back to its rightful home.
When I got back, there was a message on my answering machine. It was the doctor’s office. It said, “You are fine now, Rebekah. There is no sign of cancer. It has miraculously disappeared.”
I had let go of my fears, and surrendered it all to the One.

The End
Read more at: Light as a Healer, and Listening to the Light of Your Inner Spirit.