Spirit Walker

By Jeff Miner

Fourteen-year-old Richard Locklear is a typical teenager who enjoys goofing around with his friends, watching movies and online gaming. Although he has lived in the suburbs with his family for the past three years, Richard also enjoys spending time with his grandfather, Helaku, at the American Indian reservation he grew up on, learning more about the history of their tribe.

Shortly after starting his freshman year in high school, Richard discovers an ancient
necklace at one of his fathers job sites that endows him with amazing supernatural
abilities. Although he does his best to use his new powers for honorable causes, his actions unknowingly release a horrible beast onto the world. Now Richard must now face his deepest fears and insecurities as he risks his life and the lives of his friends in a courageous effort to stop the terrible creature before it kills again.

Spirit Walker is an action-adventure novel, filled with excitement, suspense, humor and surprises that will keep readers entertained and captivated till the very last page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532039188

Jeff Miner

Jeff Miner has developed a passion for storytelling over the years and has written several short tales. His first novel, Spirit Walker, is inspired by his teenage twin sons, Aaron and Brandon. Jeff lives with his wife and three children in Morgan Hill, California.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The morning cry of a rooster woke Helaku from a deep, restful slumber. He moved aside the warm animal hides he slept beneath and steadily got to his feet. Walking to the entrance of the tepee, he stretched slowly, hearing the popping from his joints and feeling the aches and pains he had become all too accustomed to each morning. At sixty-one years old, it was certainly more difficult than it had been in his forties and fifties.

After dressing, he began the daily ritual of braiding his long white hair into two ponytails. Glancing at his reflection, he could see his years in the wrinkles and creases on his face like so many roads on a map. From the neck down, however, he was a totally different man. His body was still lean and toned, and he could easily be mistaken for someone in his thirties or forties if not for his snow-white mane. That was not the case three years earlier, before his wife, Saswanna, had passed. They were a couple in their late fifties, but they acted like love-struck teenagers. They hiked in the mountains, ran on the beach, and held hands everywhere they went. Several of her older family members had their hearts fail on them as well, but she had always assumed that her active lifestyle would protect her from their fate. Tragically, it did not, and at only fifty-seven, she was struck down in the prime of her life. Helaku was devastated. He fell into a deep depression and began drinking again after going more than twenty years without a drop. In only a year, he appeared to age a decade, and his family feared that they would lose him too—to a broken heart.

Ultimately, the love and support of his grandson Richard turned Helaku around. He and Richard were truly kindred souls, filled with life. They both loved nature and running along the beach until their lungs burned and their legs ached. In the end, Richard was able to bring Helaku back from the darkness, and the older man chose life over despair.

Looking over his shoulder, Helaku could see Richard sleeping in the tepee. He lived with his parents and younger sister, but he loved going to stay with his grandfather. On their long walks in the woods, Helaku would teach Richard about the different birds and woodland creatures and share fantastical stories of their people that had been passed down for countless generations.

Stepping outside of the canvas and feeling the cool dew-covered grass on his bare feet, he could immediately see that it would be a beautiful day. The sky was crystal clear, and the hills around them were green and majestic as they had been for as long as anyone could remember. Redwoods outlined the crest of the ridge like gigantic soldiers standing proudly at attention, and a large brown hawk flew overhead, looking for its next meal.

Closing his eyes, Helaku could just pick up the faint sound of the ocean only half a mile away. With a deep inhale through his nostrils, he took in the sweet smells of ocean breezes and all things in his mind that represented nature. The sensation invigorated him, as it did every morning, and he felt truly good to be alive.

Ping. The soft but distinct sound was coming from the back of the tepee.

Ping. There it was again. With his moment with nature now officially interrupted, Helaku turned with annoyance and walked back inside.

Your phone is chirping again, he said.

Huh? a muffled voice came from beneath the heavy animal skin.

Your phone—that thing you are so utterly consumed with—is chirping again at you.

Throwing back the animal skin to reveal a torrent of flowing black hair, almost completely covering the face of the young teen, the boy answered. It’s called a tweet, not a chirp.

Then your phone is tweeting at you. Do you need to call someone?

The young man slumped back under the covers. It’s just an IM.

You are what? Helaku asked.

Realizing he was not going to be sleeping any longer, Richard slowly sat up. What are you talking about?

You said ‘I am,’ but then you didn’t continue. Are you hungry or thirsty?

Shaking his head in disbelief, the boy said, No, Grandpa. IM is short for ‘instant message.’ It means that someone sent me a note or something. Might also be a Facebook update.

A what-book update? Helaku asked. That’s another one of those computer things that you spend all of your time on, right?

Richard smiled and pulled his shoulder-length jet-back hair into a ponytail. Yeah, Grandpa. It’s one of those computer things. You really should get a cell phone now that they put up that tower at the top of the hill last year. That way, I can actually get a hold of you when I need something. I can show you how to use it. We’ll just get you a really basic one.

Why would I need another phone when I have the one at the house?

Oh, that one with the answering machine that you only check once every couple of weeks? I was thinking of something a bit more reliable. What if something important came up and we really needed to get a hold of you?

If you call and I don’t pick up, you can also call my neighbor. Your mother has his number, and he never leaves the house. And if it’s all that important, you’re only a twenty-minute drive away.

Realizing that it was pointless to continue this topic of conversation, Richard changed the subject. So are we running this morning?

Helaku’s entire disposition changed as he smiled with pure joy and pride. Of course. Your cross-country practices start next week, right? We need to make sure you’re in good condition. Let me use the restroom, and we can leave in a few minutes. Work up a good appetite for breakfast.

Richard smiled as his grandfather walked through his yard toward the mobile home where he lived when he was not being at one with the spirits of his ancestors in the traditional tepee he had erected in his backyard. Richard loved running with his grandfather almost as much as he did talking with him about nature and all the different legends of their tribe.

Richard came from a long line of runners, and Helaku actually translated to Running Bear. He had been jogging the trails along the reservation his entire life, and two years back, at the suggestion of Richard’s father, Eneyto, he entered a 10K race. Helaku came in first for his age group, and he broke the California record for men over fifty by more than a minute! To make the accomplishment all the more amazing, he ran the entire race barefoot! The barefoot part especially attracted everyone’s attention, and the local news made a pretty big deal about it. He actually became a bit famous in their little corner of the world for several weeks, and that notoriety really got Richard excited about the sport.

Helaku was eventually persuaded to buy a pair of actual running shoes, and he started competing in longer and longer races, eventually completing his first marathon about eighteen months earlier. He ended up placing fourth for his over-fifty age group, even though he was one of the oldest competitors in that bracket. Once he turned sixty and he was racing in the sixty-to-seventy-year-old division, he was nearly unstoppable. Over the next year and a half, he ran twelve marathons and was currently ranked seventh in the nation for men over sixty.

After their usual stretching session, the two headed out through town, toward the entrance to Ridge Trail at the far end. Running through the reservation, the roads were mostly empty at this hour, save a few older folks enjoying their morning coffee on their front porches. It never failed to amuse Richard when they consistently gave Helaku the same stares of utter disbelief as he ran past them. Many of his neighbors were his age or younger, but they were old, stiff, and broken down from a life of poverty and hardship. How in the world was this man striding past them with the grace of a gazelle, seemingly immune to Father Time?

Once on the trail, the road began to incline as it branched to the north. Richard felt the sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyes as they passed the one-mile mark. His grandfather was only a few paces ahead of him, but Richard knew he was holding back. If he had wanted to go full-steam ahead, he would have already left him in the dust. Richard kept reminding himself that his grandfather was a highly accomplished distance runner, but when you’re getting thoroughly schooled by someone more than four times your age, it’s hard not to beat yourself up a bit. The incline increased significantly, and Richard’s legs began to burn fiercely as the lactic acid started to build up in his quadriceps. Finally, after another mile, they reached the high point of the ridge and began the long, winding trail back to the ocean. They would run the last two miles on the beach.

Richard sighed with relief when they started the gradual downhill section of the trail. It was the most beautiful section of the run. Between the moss-covered redwoods and coastal cypress trees, he could see the ocean in the distance. His lungs filled with the cool sea mist in the air, and a renewed strength returned to his legs. After another fifteen minutes, they finally made it to the beach, which was his favorite part of the run.

As usual, once making it to the cold, firm sand at the water’s edge, Richard and his grandfather removed their shoes and ran the last section barefoot, carrying a shoe in each hand. For the final stretch, both picked up the pace and gradually built up speed until it was practically an all-out sprint for the last two hundred yards. The run culminated in the same way that it did every time. Helaku kept it close, but in the end, he always beat Richard by at least a few strides.

The two quickly slowed into a walk, holding their sides in pain as they regained their breath.

Visibly winded, Helaku turned to Richard. That was a good run, Grandson. You get faster and faster every time we run together. It will not be long before I will be chasing you. Let’s take a swim to cool down. There’s no better time for a swim in the ocean than after a good run.

A look of terror immediately swept across Richard’s face as he turned to his grandfather. No! I’m good. I learned my lesson last time.

Smiling warmly, Helaku said. Are you still making a big fuss about that? I really don’t see what you could be so upset about.

Red with embarrassment, Richard said, What I should be upset about? The last time we had this conversation, I was just about to jump into the water. I looked over, and you were butt naked! You have any idea how weird it is to go swimming naked with your grandfather? I’m surprised that I’m not in therapy as we speak!

Helaku chuckled to himself. I just don’t understand why someone would intentionally jump into the ocean in their clothes, getting them soaking wet, when they can simply take them off and then have nice dry clothes to put on once they get out. Our people have run along this stretch and beach and swam naked in the ocean for a thousand years. There could be nothing more natural that this.

Realizing that Richard was not going to come around on his position that morning, the old man said, Very well. Perhaps next time. Come on. Let’s go make some breakfast.

After walking half a mile back to the mobile home, Helaku showered so he could prepare breakfast while Richard got cleaned up.

By the time Richard was out of the shower, the meal was ready. They sat down for a delicious plate of mutton, eggs, and freshly baked biscuits with butter and honey.

After finishing breakfast and helping his grandfather with the dishes, Richard made his way to the large recreation center at the center of the reservation. Helaku had to prepare for a meeting with the tribe elders that afternoon, and Richard hoped to meet up with his cousin and other reservation friends for pool, Ping-Pong, or some movies on the big-screen TV. Most of the people who lived on the reservation were quite poor and had few amenities that most people took for granted. The rec center provided them a place to relax, play, and have fun. There was also a section with toys, and mothers would often drop off their kids on the way to work or the store and leave them for hours on end. It was all one big family there, and everyone looked out for everybody for the most part.

Once inside, Richard saw his cousin Chenowa playing an old Space Invaders arcade game. Smiling wickedly, he snuck over and surprised Chenowa. So you got the high score on that thing yet?

Startled, Chenowa turned around and was quickly killed by the flashing pixilated aliens on the screen. Realizing who it was, he smiled and jokingly punched his cousin’s shoulder. You jerk! You made me die. Why did you have to sneak up on me like that?

For exactly this reaction, Richard said.

How much longer are you here? Chenowa asked.

Till tomorrow afternoon. I wouldn’t want to miss the harvest celebration tonight.

Bitchin’! I’m sure we’ll have a blast, bro. The whole tribe will be there. It’s just not the same since you guys moved into the burbs. Elania will be there!

That’s okay, Richard said. She’s cool and all, but I guess I’m just not that into her. Besides, I thought she was seeing your brother.

Screw Ahote! He’s just a big a-hole-e! Chenowa said. He’s nothing but a big jerk who thinks he can always get his way. Elania doesn’t even really like him. She only hangs out with him because she knows that he’d go ape poop if she told him where to stick it. I’m telling you… she likes you, bro!

Richard’s cousins fought like cats and dogs, and they had done so for most of their lives. Chenowa was ten when he first figured out that Ahote sounded a lot like a-hole-e, and from that moment forward, he proceeded to use the phrase at every possible opportunity. Chenowa was fourteen like Richard, and the two had always been as close as brothers. They spent countless hours playing together at the reservation, right up until Richard’s family had moved away three years earlier. Ahote was two years older and got his size earlier than most, which only exaggerated the age difference. He had always razzed both of them, but he had gotten outright cruel about two years ago.

Richard’s father, Enyto—or Ernie, as he liked to be called—was born and raised on the reservation. Growing up quite poor, he was a particularly driven young man. During high school and college, he worked construction for a company where he learned the ins and outs of the industry. After college, he passed the exam to earn his contractor license, and shortly after, he started his own construction company. The early years of the business were tough, and Richard had a somewhat limited memory of his father, who was almost always at a job site. Ernie eventually learned that with a minority-owned business he had an inside track on a number of government jobs. After fifteen years of hard work, he employed twenty full-time workers, and he had at least a dozen more contractors working for him at any given time. Richard’s family bought a 2,500-square-foot home in Bentleyville, a suburb of Laguna Hills, about fifteen miles from the reservation.

One of Ernie’s employees was Chenowa and Ahote’s father, Senawa. His construction skills were tolerable, but his work ethic was horrible. He was habitually late, many times hungover, and he took more sick days than any two of Ernie’s other employees put together. Being the brother-in-law of the owner, he assumed that Ernie would always let him off with a stern warning. After several months, Ernie finally had no choice but to fire him. Unfortunately, that’s where things really started to spiral downward for Ahote and their entire family. After being out of work for nearly six months, Senawa finally got a job driving a truck throughout the Pacific Northwest. After several months, he met a waitress in Portland, and after a brief affair, he had the audacity to handwrite a letter for his wife and sons, telling them that he was leaving the family and moving to Portland.

As one might expect, this turn of events had a profound impact on the two families. Richard’s mother, Ayiana, horrified by her brother’s behavior, cut off all communications with him and became exceptionally close with her sister-in-law, Lisana. Richard’s parents did what they could to help them financially, but the family still struggled greatly. Thankfully for Richard, his relationship with Chenowa was not damaged by the turn of events. His cousin obviously loved his father greatly, but he understood that it was ultimately his father’s actions that led him to make the decisions that put their family in the predicament they were in.

Ahote saw this entire sequence of events as a series of dominos, initiated by his father getting fired at the hands of Ernie. He figured that if he had only given his dad one more chance, none of this would have happened. Unfortunately for Richard, he quickly became the primary object of Ahote’s anger and frustration. To add fuel to the fire, he once overheard Richard making a comment to his dad about Senawa being sick a lot. In reality, he was a ten-year-old kid mimicking the same complaint he’d heard his father say countless times before. To Ahote, that one statement ultimately led to his father getting fired. It really made no sense logically, but fury and frustration often cloud one’s capacity for rational thinking.

Ahote made great efforts to turn his brother against Richard, but in the end, his lifelong friendship with Richard won out over the irrational ramblings of an older brother who’d picked on him for as long as he could remember. In a way, it made things even worse for Chenowa since he had to live with Ahote 24-7, while Richard only ran into him occasionally during his time on the reservation. Their mother did what she could to try to keep the peace, but it was a constant struggle. The dynamic made the time Richard spent with Chenowa all the more special. Chenowa had literally chosen Richard over his own sibling, and in his mind, that truly made them brothers.

After a few minutes of small talk, the two headed over to the pool table. After they racked the balls and did a quick rock-paper-scissors, Richard made the initial break. It was a clean shot that hit just to the right of the yellow one ball, sending the group of spheres cascading across the faded green table. He was especially pleased to see the burgundy five ball sink into one of the corner pockets.

Oh, yeah! Solids. Eat my shorts, Chedderman! Richard exclaimed.

The friendly nickname materialized several years earlier at a large potluck on the reservation. One of the attendees brought a huge cheese plate. At that time, Chenowa was a fanatic about cheese, specifically cheddar, and proceeded to eat about thirty of the small cubes of yellow goodness. All was well until about an hour later, when the ceremonial dances took place. After apparently overexerting himself, he proceeded to puke up the orange sludge all over the dancing area, bringing the entire event to a screeching halt! He had been Chedderman ever since.

Go ahead and take your next shot, Blockhead, Chenowa said. You’ll need all the help you can get. You forget that while you’re down in the burbs gaming online with your other friends, I’m here practicing!

The Blockhead moniker had a similarly traumatic origin. When Richard was ten, his father, who had kept his hair short for years, took Richard to the barber in town to get him a proper haircut. Before he knew what was happening, he had a crew cut with the hair clipped nearly to his scalp on the sides and back and leaving only an inch on top. With the little remaining hair standing straight up, it gave his head a somewhat squared appearance. Upon seeing the new hairdo, it only took Chenowa seconds to shout, What the hell happened to your hair? Your head looks just like a block of wood! Even though it was four years ago, and Richard’s hair had grown back to his much-preferred shoulder-length style, the nickname still made him wince.

The two of them continued playing for another ten minutes, and Chenowa took the lead with his last shot.

Well, if it isn’t Peppermint Patty and the traitor.

The words were like daggers. With a feeling of dread, both turned toward the door of the rec center.

Ahote was staring at them with a look of sheer malevolence. He had his own nicknames for Chenowa and Richard, but they were used with absolutely no goodwill or fun spirits. Since moving to the suburbs, Richard was no longer a real Indian because he was now living like the white man. He was only brown on the outside and all white on the inside: Peppermint Patty. For Chenowa, there was not even an attempt to be clever or witty at all. He had been given the opportunity to take the side of his brother, or Richard, and he chose the latter. From that moment on, he was always going to be considered a traitor.

What are you two numb nuts up to? Ahote said. "Nothing good I’m sure. Patty, shouldn’t you be going home to your white-guy house to hang out with your white-guy friends? Or do you like slumming it here with the rest of your former people so you can gloat about how much richer you are than the rest of us?"

What the hell are you talking about? Richard said. First of all, I don’t have any more money than you have. My parents do, and it wasn’t even my idea to move out. I would have just as soon stay here. And as far as my white-guy friends are concerned, my three best friends—other than those here on the reservation—are Mexican, black, and Chinese. You just need to chill the hell out and get over yourself.

Ahote had a fire in his eyes as he shot stares of pure rage at Richard. His response to his earlier statement had aggravated the situation. Ahote quickly marched toward Richard.

Realizing the imminent peril he was in, Richard glanced over to the main office and observed the volunteer on the phone at the front desk. Quickly scanning the rest of the room, the only other people were younger kids. There was no one who could to do a damn thing if things got physical.

Had Richard not taken those precious moments looking for help, he might have been able to make a run for it, but by the time his eyes made it back Ahote, his cousin was already on top of him. His right hand struck out like a viper, grasping Richard’s neck and pushing his body against the wall behind him.

Richard grabbed at his hand and tried to loosen the grip at his throat, but his opponent was two years older, two inches taller, and close to fifty pounds heavier!

Chenowa did what he could to help, but his efforts were met with a quick punch to the chest from Ahote’s free