Clockwork Cowboy

Chapter 10

"The turbulence is making my gut churn," her mother commented, from her rocking chair in the corner of the room. Her shoulders hunched forward, fingers fidgeted with the holes in the knitted throw which covered her bony knees.

Nova glanced up from her father's work bench, strewn with copper gadgets, to her mother's frail form. "Uh huh." Nova nodded and carried on with her search.

"It is this French Onion Soup," Helaku complained. "At least if I finish it I shall have something to vomit in."

Imaginary meals and imaginary enemies... It no longer intrigued Nova where her mother's thoughts or ideas sprang from, or even where they disappeared to. For years Nova had been hopeful that there was a hidden meaning behind her mother's ramblings. That the wise woman who had raised her had found a way to continue communicating with her daughter through the thick fog inside her head.

Years had passed before Nova had resigned herself to the fact that her mother's words held no cryptic clues. That Helaku's deterioration wasn't a magical or spiritual thing... She'd simply lost a cog in the clockwork of her brain, and without it her life had become an unending bad dream. Erratic, scary, disjointed, and disturbed often by jaw slackened sleep.

Their escape to Wyoming was the last thing that Nova wanted to think of at that moment. To remember the hopeful innocence she'd felt when she'd first seen Radcliffe Ranch from the sky, her view partly obscured by the pilot's bulky shoulder's.

Nova continued rummaging through the debris on the workbench till she found what she was searching for. A small copper compass bowl that had lost its glass casing. Perfect.

Taking two tins of dried herbs from the pocket of her high waisted pants, Nova added some sage and cedar wood to the compass bowl. Crushing the herbs into place she struck a match and held the glowing stick to them. Watching the flame lick - hungrily - over them.

Hungrily. She smiled in embarrassment. Like how she'd viewed the pilot's charismatic nephew? She'd been a child still... and hadn't learnt how to conceal her admiration and blatant lust for the good looking boy. He was a gangly kid with chocolate colored eyes. He had a way of hypnotizing people around him. She'd fallen into a peaceful state when in his presence, regardless of the fear and adrenaline that their escape had caused. Nova yearned for the ignorance of youth, now. To be able to have her fears swept clean away by the sight of a long limbed boy.

They had been saved. For what? So that the Radcliffe family could flounder about for a solid decade before having it all whipped out from under them? This, she mused, must be how it felt to watch a field mouse die at the claws of a psychopathic cat.

Taking the white hawk feather from her hair she tried to distribute the smoke about the room. Her hand movements weren't as co-ordinated as she would have liked, and her actions were stilted, but it was the best she could do. Since her mother had begun to lose her marbles Nova had felt herself lose touch with her spirituality. Helaku had been her link to her heritage, and with that gone she'd felt her sense of self crumbling.

If Nova ever needed her mother, then this was the moment. Her gaze begged Helaku to rise from her stupor, and teach Nova everything she needed to know before it was too late.

Using the feather, Nova wafted the smoke that rose from the copper bowl out until it covered her entirely. Chanting - as well as she could - in her Lumbee dialect. Asking for protection, for guidance, and for help.

Help was an understatement. She had to make the decision whether to be thrown from the ranch like unwanted garbage, or shackle herself to a black-eyed devil. While Nova had chosen the second option, she still had the hope of backing out of that agreement before the wedding took place. Stranger things had happened.

Taking the copper bowl she approached her mother... letting the smoke fall upon her frail body. Nova asked her spirit guide to protect her mother from the wolves at the door... to ensure that she was safe. Was that even right? Nova chewed her bottom lip in worry.

A sudden guttural noise had her eye darting toward Helaku. "Mother?" A swell of excitement entered her stomach. It had worked!

"Hussy," the acidic tone matched the scorching gaze. "Find your own husband."

Nova shifted uncomfortably. "It is me, mother." Helaku had been the true definition of "salt of the earth" for the first fifty years of her life. A kind, humble woman who'd never spoken an unkind word. But now that the dementia had taken hold she wasn't the same woman. She'd said things that could have mortally wounded Nova - if Nova wasn't so stubbornly adamant not to believe a single bad word.

"Yes," Helaku snarled. "I know who you are!"

Feeling weakened by her mother's tone, Nova came to an abrupt finish. Nothing seemed to have changed. Especially not her mother's mental condition. It isn't a magical spell, she chided herself. She was asking for protection - not waving her wand. Tomorrow, she told herself. Everything will be alright tomorrow.

She may have been knocked down by life, but it would take a lot more than a brief engagement to Jese Calhoun to remove her faith. No. Everything would be resolved soon enough, and he would be on his merry way.

She just knew it.