Spirit Tree of the Red Rocks: Future Read online

  Violet lifted her lashes, gazed down at Andrea and said with heartfelt thankfulness, "You're very kind Andrea and I feel better because of that."

  Andrea stood, smiled, and touched Violet's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Is there anything you want to say before I airlock your capsule?"

  Violet searched her mind for a question but decided anything that needed to be said, already had been, and shook her head.

  Andrea gave another reassuring pat and smile and said as she stepped back and reached for the lever to lower the vacuum hatch of the cryogenic cocoon, "Sweet sleep, Dr. Morningstar."

  4: Salty Air

  Violet could smell the gases floating up from the floor of her cocoon. She had gone through multiple sessions with a cryogenic therapist preparing for this momentous moment and now it was upon her. The fragrance laced gases began to immediately work their magic and her rapid heartbeat slowed to a regular rhythm, and then even slower. Her eyelids lowered and she felt weightless and carefree. She hadn't felt carefree since she was a child. Deeper and deeper her conscious mind sank into oblivion. She felt wonderful.

  "Hello, dear," a sweet voice said.

  The blackness surrounding Violet made it impossible to see anyone or anything.

  "Who are you?" her mind asked.

  "I'm one of your grandmothers," responded the elderly voice.

  "Are you Grandmother Beatrice?"

  The voice chuckled. "No, I'm not your mother's mother. I'm much older than that. My name is Angelica, but my family calls me Frannie."

  "Frannie!" Violet exclaimed. "I've heard about you! Can you tell me about our family?"

  "Oh, I can do better than that."

  "How so?"

  "Why, dear child, you're going to live my life beginning with my arrival in America with my parents on a grand ship."

  "That's impossible."

  "Ha!" Frannie laughed. "I wouldn't have expected something so negative from you. Not after you've come so far in your research."

  Violet's burst of happiness suddenly plummeted. "I'm a failure in that regard. We've never germinated anything for longer than thirty days. And now I've been placed in cryogenics for who knows how long because I have radiation influenza. I only hope that someone will continue my work and find the answer."

  "Tsk, tsk," Frannie said. "As long as you believe in yourself, you're never a failure. Whether you discover the answer or not, you only fail when you stop believing."

  "Those words are easier said than lived."

  "Of course they are. You didn't expect your life on Earth to be easy, did you?"

  Violet pondered her words. "If you're my ancient grandmother and you're talking to me, where are we? Are we on earth? In heaven?"

  Frannie laughed loudly. "I guess the best way to describe where we are is to say we are between worlds. We're not here, and we're not there."

  "That's sounds confusing."

  "Life is confusing. But now it's time for you to continue your journey—by living mine."

  "Now I'm really confused."

  Violet noticed a slight lightening of the darkness. "It's getting lighter," she said.

  "Yes. And soon you will be on the ship that brought me to America as it docks in New York Harbor. It's a very exciting time for me and my family. The trip across the Atlantic was long and arduous but we're looking forward to living in the new world. You'll soon see for yourself. Of course, you will always be you in the recesses of your mind, but you will also be me. You've heard the phrase, 'Everyone and everything is connected'."

  "Many times."

  "Well, it's much truer than anyone believes."

  Violet felt a sudden rocking and then smelled something she had only experienced in a holographic chamber. It was the odor of the sea, pungent and tangy; repellant and wonderful at the same time. No longer did she feel the straps around her shoulders and ankles and she lifted her gaze upward. She gasped as a brilliant blue sky slowly materialized.

  Frannie spoke again. "Yes, dear girl, you are free from restraints. You are free to experience the earth as it was; as it can be again."

  "How can you know that?" Violet asked, still staring at the sky.

  "Because I've been blessed with the gift of the sight, and you have the same gift. You just haven't exercised it."

  Violet brought her gaze back down and inhaled deeply of salty air. Her eyes widened as shapes emerged from the semidarkness that was continually becoming lighter. She heard Frannie's voice from far away. "Now it's time for you to be me, my sweet. I'll return when you wake."

  A strange dizziness enveloped Violet. Suddenly and unexpectedly, everything around her came into sharp focus and she screamed. She was standing at the bow of a ship, wind whipping her hair as the vessel sailed toward a harbor. Other ships were moored along the wharfs, and people, appearing tiny from so far away, darted along the docks.

  Surreptitiously, she glanced around. Had anyone heard her scream? Apparently not, for no one was rushing to her aid. The sound of wind pushing the schooner toward shore silenced all other sounds.

  5: Frannie in the New World

  Early 1800s

  Violet squeezed her eyes shut, fighting nausea and something else—the feeling that she was fading away. Vaguely, she recalled the words: You're going to live my life.

  "Frannie! You must stop daydreaming and help us prepare for disembarking."

  Frannie turned around to face her mother and sighed. "Yes, Mama. But it's just so exciting. We're finally here!"

  Nellie O'Meara's smile was patient when she said, "Yes, daughter, but if we want to experience this new land, we'll have to leave the ship, and we can't leave the ship without our belongings."

  Rushing past her mother, Frannie called, "You're always so logical Mama. I wish I could be more like you and not always have my head in the clouds." While she hastened across the deck, she heard her mother laugh and call out, "I love you just the way you are, Frannie."

  In their tiny stateroom Frannie's father, Patrick O'Meara, was writing in his journal, a daily ritual developed in his youth. He dipped his pen into the inkwell and glanced up. "There you are, young one. Your mother has been searching for you."

  "I know, Papa. I just saw her and she scolded me for not having my belongings ready."

  Patrick continued writing in his journal and said absentmindedly, "So, get to it, girl."

  Frannie bent to kiss her father's balding head before rushing to her cot to finish packing her possessions.

  Three hours later Frannie and her mother and father, carrying everything they owned in heavy suitcases, descended the ship's ramp into their new country. The moment Frannie's foot touched ground after weeks of oceanic travel, a vision of red cliffs and giant rock formations flashed across her mind. She must have looked strange because her mother said, "Frannie, are you having the sight?"

  "Maybe, Mama. Or perhaps I'm just tired and hungry."

  Two years later…

  Her heart pounding, Frannie woke just before dawn. The dreams were becoming more frequent and more vibrant. She could even smell the fragrance of pines and fresh air, a far cry from the stench of the textile factories she and her family trudged to each day to earn a living. Their hopes and aspirations, the driving forces that had brought them to America, died a little more each day. For the past two years, Frannie had watched her beloved parents' health decline. Her father, once robust and bursting with energy, was losing weight at an alarming rate. Her mother's appearance had become haggard months earlier. And there appeared to be no escape from their lives of toil to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. The alternative to their situation was even worse. Homelessness was as close to a death sentence as one could get, other than from a judge.

  However, for the past two weeks Frannie had been dreaming of a beautiful land—so beautiful she wondered if it could be anywhere but heaven. Before the dreams started, she had glimpsed the land once before, when she had stepped off the ship that brought them to America. She'd wonder
ed if it was the sight her mother often spoke of that sometimes came to the women of their lineage. But when the beautiful land hadn't appeared to her in another vision or dream, she'd decided it was just the excitement of the day.

  Now, after so many nights, she was certain it was the sight. An elderly woman who claimed to be her distant Grandmother Ana was visiting her dreams and showing her a wonderful valley between red cliffs. Frannie hadn't said anything to her mother and father about the dreams because she'd wanted to be sure her imagination wasn't leading her astray. She would tell them today.

  Padding across the chilly room in her nightgown, she stoked the embers in the fireplace and adjusted the kettle of water hanging above them. Her mother was just waking.

  While Frannie cut slices of bread for their morning meal, Nellie dressed in the freezing room. Frannie poured a cup of hot tea for her mother and set plates on their small table.

  Nellie said, "Let's let your father sleep a little longer. He's not been feeling well." Her sad eyes met Frannie's as she pulled out her chair and sat down. They ate bread in silence for several minutes before Nellie asked, "Are you going to tell me what the sight has shown you, dear child?"

  Frannie smiled at her mother. She should have known her mother knew. "I was going to tell you today."

  "I pray it's not the death of your father."

  "Mama! I would never tell you something so terrible."

  Nellie shrugged. "Forgive me, daughter. I have become a terrible mother since arriving in America. I had the sight only once in my life when our dear ancestor Grandmother Ana came to me in a dream and told us to come here, but now our lives have become hell on earth." She blinked back tears. "The sight betrayed me."

  Frannie whispered fiercely, "No, Mama! It didn't! Grandmother Ana has visited me too, and shown me a wonderful place; a land of beauty that we can call home. It was necessary for us to come to America to go there."

  A glimmer of hope sparkled in Nellie's eyes and she said, "Where is this place?"

  Frannie glanced at the table. "It's far away in the uncharted western territory." She lifted her gaze back to her mother's. "But the sight wouldn't have shown me such a wonderful place if we couldn't travel there."

  Expecting her mother to balk at another long journey, Frannie was surprised when she said, "You're right. Now you must tell me everything so we can prepare for our departure."

  "What will Papa say?"

  "It won't take much to convince him to leave this rat infested hovel." With new found determination she finished with, "And if we must sell everything we own and even face death, we will follow wherever the sight leads."

  6: Rio Bravo

  Although the upcoming journey westward would be grueling and test the endurance of the strongest of men, not once did Frannie or her parents second guess their decision to listen to Frannie's dreams.

  The sight had directed them to leave in early spring after selling all their possessions, even their few pieces of jewelry. However, the one exception that Frannie would not allow her mother to sell was her wedding band. It had been passed from generation to generation in her father's family for almost two hundred years. Frannie had told her mother that since the sight had not specifically mentioned the ring, she should keep it hidden during their travels.

  It was late April of the year 1811 when Frannie and her mother and father set out on a packet ship bound from New York to Savannah, Georgia. Their funds only allowed for a tiny room, reminiscent of the one that had carried them from Ireland to America. The ship was dirty and the sailors even dirtier, both in body and mind. So much so, that Frannie's mother and father would not allow her out of the tiny room they shared. The time spent in confinement, however, wasn't for naught. In dreams and visions Grandmother Ana showed Frannie the beautiful valley that would become their new home.

  Frannie told her mother, "Grandmother said the journey will be long and difficult. She said we are the forerunners to thousands of pioneers who will one day venture beyond the cities of the East. She said that during our lifetime the trains we hear rumors of will actually trek this land from coast to coast. And after we're gone, man will invent machines that fly like birds to carry people everywhere, even across the oceans."

  Nellie's eyes widened and she placed her hand over her heart. "No!" she gasped.

  Frannie eyes were as wide as her mother's as she nodded. "That's what she said, Mama."

  The packet ship, loaded with supplies, finally docked in Savannah, and Frannie, following the instructions from her grandmother, told her parents they must spend the night at the first hotel they came to.

  The first hotel along the waterfront caused Frannie's heart to plummet and her parents glanced questioningly at her. "Are you sure?" her father asked.

  She swallowed hard and whispered, "I certainly hope so." Her father stepped forward leading the way into a pub that rank of tobacco and sour ale. At the counter a weather-beaten man, perhaps younger than he appeared, spit a stream of tobacco into a spittoon atop the counter. He glanced from Patrick to the womenfolk and back again. "You wantin' a room here?" he asked with some surprise.

  Patrick stood taller and replied, "That we do. Have you any available?"

  The clerk, smelling strongly of body odor, shrugged and shoved the register, ink and quill, in front of Frannie's father. After the register was signed and the correct amount of money exchanged for the room, the clerk coughed into a dirty handkerchief and reached for a large key hanging behind him. "The room's second on the left, upstairs."

  "Thank you, sir," replied Patrick.

  Instead of responding, the grimy man reached into his pocket, pulled out a fistful of tobacco and shoved it into his mouth, causing his jaw to bulge.

  Frannie wanted to wretch when his chewing revealed rotten and missing teeth. Grandmother, why have you brought us to this terrible place?

  That night the family prepared a bed on the floor with the meager blankets they'd brought. Sleeping on the floor was preferable to sleeping on a horsehair bed infested with lice. The next morning as they prepared to leave, Frannie was still at a loss as to why they were in such a horrid place.

  As they returned the key to the same smelly man who looked even more appalling than the day before, they overheard a conversation between two men standing inside the doorway.

  "Yessurh, I'm bound for Spanish Territory they call Florida on the morrow. From there, I'll make me way to the Rio Bravo where I hear tell the Mexicans are giving away parcels o' land."

  His friend replied, "I hope you know that Spain is disputin' the boundary of the land France sold to the U.S. You jus' might end up with nothin' but gunshot in yer gut."

  "If that be so, at least I'll have tried to better meself."

  Frannie had listened to the conversation with passing interest, but when she heard the words Rio Bravo, she knew they were right where Grandmother Ana wanted them. Glancing at her father and mother, she leaned in and whispered. "We're supposed to go with that man to the Rio Bravo."

  Her mother covered a smile with her gloved hand and her father cleared his throat. He said low, "Ladies, why don't you wait on the porch while I discuss travel arrangements with this gentleman?"

  Late that afternoon, Frannie found herself walking alongside a burro loaded with supplies. Her parents walked beside two other burros also packed with everything needed for wilderness survival. Mr. Solomon, a short burly man with a long gray beard and gray hair tied back with a strip of leather, sat atop a fourth beast, singing at the top of his lungs. Occasionally, he would stop regaling everyone with song, glance at his traveling companions, and say something along the lines of, "You folks is as crazy as me."

  Over the next weeks, their trek westward took them across New Spain's Florida Territory and into land disputed by Spain and the United States. From there they entered Orleans Territory, part of the Louisiana Purchase, and then back into New Spain. They slept on the ground, ate jerky and hardtack, and bathed in muddy rivers. Never once, however, did their
determination to reach the red rocks waver. Throughout their journey Mr. Solomon was always wary and had his rifle nearby. When they were well into New Spain, rather than head south toward the Gulf of Mexico and the mouth of the Rio Bravo, their guide continued westward to intersect the river.

  Two days after reaching the Rio Bravo and traveling along its banks, they reached a Mexican outpost. The inhabitants, although wary of them, did not refuse to sell them supplies. While sleeping under a small lean-to on the outskirts of the outpost, Frannie heard voices nearby. It was Mr. Solomon speaking with a vaquero.

  Mr. Solomon said, "Surh, I hear tell from the mercante that you're lookin' ta hire a ranch hand…er…un peón...to work the land of your patron."

  The Mexican chuckled and said in perfect English. "Yes, my patron has thousands of acres and is always looking for ranch hands. Are you interested?"

  "Yessurh. Very much so."

  Frannie had heard enough of the conversation to know that Mr. Solomon would be leaving them soon. Silently, she asked, "Grandmother, what do we do now?"

  That night she dreamed.

  7: Onward

  Patrick asked, "Are you sure about this, Frannie?"

  Frannie saw the concern in her father's eyes.

  "Yes, I'm very sure. Grandmother Ana came to me last night and said we must continue northward along the banks of the river by ourselves."

  Her father lifted an eyebrow. "As we've already discovered this land can be very hostile and–"

  Nellie interjected, "But if Ana told Frannie we must continue on alone, I'll not question her."

  Patrick studied his wife's face and then Frannie's, nodded, and said, "Then let's be on our way."