The House stands through centuries, waiting.  Winter snow blows against the side of the stately edifice and creates tall drifts.  With storms all year long, come strong dusty winds. Then the summer hot sun
burns the wild grass and bakes the earth, drying everything out.

Silent in anticipation of what is coming, The House waits.…………
 
 
 
The sand is as hot as burning coals.  Heat waves shimmer and dance all
around me.  I still taste blood on my dry cracked lip from the severe
blow to my mouth this morning.  My jaw aches and a tooth is loose.

There is no end in sight to walking in this heat. My feet are
blistered and my body aches.  I don’t have any idea what One With Wind
is planning, if anything.  He seems to be distracted most of the time.
 His temper is swift.  I am careful to avoid any eye contact.  Since
he abducted me, I know to keep silent.  I have to be invisible.

He acts proud of his name. That is painful to me.  He uses the name of my
Mother’s brother who was an honorable, respected, kind man, liked by
all that knew him.  This fake One With Wind killed him like a coward
in his sleep and stole his name.  I cannot believe how insensitive he
is. The real One With Wind was trying to protect me from this cocky
brain of a badger.  After my uncle’s death it was easier to seize me.
 We were often distracted. It seems he waited for an opportunity.

This exhausting trek continues.   I am thankful I made sturdy hide
soles on my schuhs that protect my feet from the scorching sand. Still
I suffer from blisters and cracked soles.  The only place I see that
may offer cool refreshment is in the mountains, many days walk away.
The line of dry brush nearby probably has a trickle of water in the
winter. Now it is dry.

One With Wind pushes me. I trip forward a few steps before catching my
balance, lucky to miss the prickly weeds on the ground below when he
forces me forward.

“There.” He points to a large dwelling.  It sits alone in the middle
of bare sand atop a hill.  My legs weaken and I slump against the
burden on my back but do not reply.

He reaches The House, momentarily stops, puffs his chest out, and
stretches straight and tall. Next, he stomps up the front stairs.  One
With Wind pounds his fists against the wall and bangs the glass
windows and door.  Nothing happens.  He stomps his feet noisily. He
follows the length of the veranda completely around the house.
        
While he makes noise, I climb the stairs and walk up to the door
slowly.   Grasping the knob, it turns, opening for me.  I have never
seen anything like this structure in my life.  I am not afraid.

One With Wind is not able to gain entry, yet sees me walk into The
House as he rounds the corner booming a gross swinish growl.  He
snarls as he pushes past me hurriedly through the open door.  He wants
anyone inside to shake with fear of him.

I am the third woman One With Wind has taken. He may know my name, but
has never used it.  He mumbles into my ear, “Females better than
beasts. carry supplies, hum, ………while they live”.   He backs away
looking at me. He sneers a frightening grin sending chills down my
spine.
       
Setting my burden down, I look around the room.  My ancestors told
stories about places like this, but it was hard to believe they were
true.   I feel at home and sit down wearily.  There is something made
from leather, thick but flat with many thin sheets connected together
lying on the low table.  Upon opening it, I find neat markings on each
one.  I don’t understand the scribble but the pictures I understand.

“What you do?” One With Wind, barks in my face with a biting snarl,
poking me with his finger.

I give him a blank look. He punches my shoulder calling me a puccoon,
an animal“.  Then turns and marches off, leaving me alone.   He trips
and falls an odd unexpected fall going up the stairs.  He rises and
rushes up without looking back.

I hear him pounding his feet like a bull, as he checks the rooms of
The House looking for people.  The House is empty.  He comes back
down.

I study the drawings. The information amazes me.  My heart is full of
promise.  I had all but given up.  And now, well?  I need water to
satisfy my parched lips and thirst.  I am hungry too, and have not
eaten since early yesterday.  I follow the Kychyne instructions
described in the book carefully and fill a picher.  A spout  produces
water by just putting something in front of it,  It is such a handy
thing.  I drink .  Water dribbles down my dusty chin.  My hands shake
with fatigue.

With one finger I press a picture twice.  Two meals, ready to eat and
smelling wonderful, pop out a little door.  My stomach grumbles with
hunger.

From the table, I look at a magnificent view.   My hand reaches to
feel the breeze and is stopped by a flawless glass.  I study the
glass, again touching its hard surface.  I had seen a small glass long
ago and it was wavy.  I could not see through it. This is invisible
to my eye. The immense clear blue sky is limitless.  Lowering my eyes
I absorb the expansive view of the land.  I notice hills far and near
with a backdrop of the mountains capped in snow I saw earlier in the
day.  Flat land lay between the gentle earthy mounds surrounding The
House, which sits alone atop a hill.  My eyes follow the patches of
scrubby brush and short trees that sparingly grow where water most
likely collects in winter.  Now they are brittle and dry.

I take both portions of food and put them down onto the table. I sit
to eat, and enjoy the food and scenery.  It is quiet.

One With Wind enters the Kychyn.  My stomach tightens.  I stay still.
Like an animal he raises his head, sniffing hungrily.  To satisfy his
empty stomach he quickly picks up food with his fingers and stuffs his
mouth. Sauce drips onto his arm, and his chin, ending on his dirty
chest.  He belches loudly, flicks a handful of food into my face,
grunts and stomps heading out of the room only to crash into the wall
next to the door.  His nose bleeds.  He sputters ugly words and rushes
outside.

I am thankful for the peace. The House is cool and comfortable.  After
being in the baking sun for weeks, this is a welcome change.

The House speaks to my heart and I will stay. Only good intentions are
allowed here.  What will happen to One With Wind?  His heart is cold.
His actions are selfish and cruel.

I continue to study.  One With Wind breaks this peace, returning in a
noisy explosion of banging and yelling.   I quiver, fearing his
temper, and stand to face him, head down.  He hits me on my cheek.
Reeling backward I slam into the table hitting my leg and hip.  He
walks away and trips as though someone pushed him and he slams face
down in the entry bumping his head.  I’m stunned. One With Wind is not
and never has been clumsy. I stifle nervous laughter. He gets up and
rushes out.

 (continued)