Dance of the FireWalker: Dance of the Firewalker: A White Owl Mystery: Book One, #1

By Alan G Button

From joy to bewilderment, somewhere out in the western Maine woods Sabrina awakens within a cabin's bedroom; kidnapped, confined, and confronting an ailing man named Hendricks who requires her remarkable healing spirit.  For this scared thirteen-year-old, inner tenacity becomes her guiding light.  And along with her irritating male sidekick Copper, Sabrina is forced to endure ceremonies of sacrifice, constant threats to life and limb, and ultimately face a shaman who becomes the Walker of Fire.

And following the loss of her husband, mother Emily, using the knowledge of ancient beliefs, and practicing the discipline of a 'spirit-walker', embarks on a journey to find her precious daughter. Accompanied by Martha, and guided by written instructions from Hendricks, she must locate four sacred sites, retrieve the earth elements, and confront a woman who has sworn to tear out her daughter's hair by the roots.

For both mother and daughter, facing these new challenges will be arduous. But it soon becomes clear that unearthly forces are at work, because the Elders from the Inner World have sent both the spirit-guide Inquin, and the shaman Wyjec, to watch over. What lies ahead for Sabrina, Emily, and Copper, is a journey of uncertainty, and an incredible path toward enlightenment.

Beware... The moose scene is a killer!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan G Button
• Release date: Sep 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716959134

Alan G Button

With a Bachelor's of Environmental Science, the extensive fields of research include archaeology, 20 years of shell-midden research, wildlife behavior, ancient cultures & beliefs, Native American spirituality & mysticism, and world mythology. The writer of several screenplays, novels, and short-stories, Alan G Button lives alone in Waldoboro, Maine where he enjoys a menagerie of backyard wildlife and woodland trails.

Book preview

Prologue

Brilliant, illuminating , mysterious...

A moon, nearing its fullness, emerged from shifting clouds, emanating shadows of white and gray. And within her unanimated brightness, the faded image of a Rabbit appears, centuries old. The Rabbit, an embodiment of creation itself, awaits in its fetal position for a healer and conjurer to awaken it. And when awakened, it will share its powers of the cycles of Spirit, and of life itself.

Beneath the moon dances a man of great ancestry, of red skin, on a path of red fire, a place enriched with Spirit, and nurtured by the hands of time. The Shaman, ageless and forgiving, must dance for the Old Ones.

Because it is the Old Ones who know the history of the land, who keep the balance with watchful eyes... It is They who have foreseen the masterful intentions of both good and evil, of both healers and conjurers, and to where the Circle of Life must be entered.

The drum is the key... becoming the heartbeat of man, and of the Earth itself. It brings All to center, where harmony exists, and all things are equal. The drum creates this place because it is from here that true magic is born. Because, when the tempo changes, the rabbit must grow—like a child—through all levels of consciousness.

But the Firewalker had become aware of something else... a dark side, moving amongst the shadows. It was strong, strong enough to challenge the rules all are compelled to follow.

And he knew of this outside force and its mission—to obstruct, to manipulate, to create imbalance—because, for its own reasons, it needs to win.

He cannot interfere to change its path; the rules of the Old Ones forbid this. In time They will deal with this outsider—a lesson harsh and retrospective.

So here the Shaman must walk the Red Road, to know only Truth... and prepare...

For when the un-appointed time of change appears, he will plan his own retreat. Whether it be the Voice of the North, or the Hawk, the Owl, or even the Crow from the West... when the warnings appear, a great change will manifest... as foretold so many times before.

For more than a thousand years the Old Ones have walked this land, a land where the ancestors knew all the Sacred Sites and knew how to become One with all things. They knew how to talk to the animals and trees, and how to listen to the majestic mountains and the wide-open sky. They are the Ancients of the Eight Directions—They require reverence.

They had taught this Shaman the powers of the Circle, and how the Seven Teaching-Arrows within its center give focus to all things. From the old and young, from the trees and grass, and from the eagle and ant, he was now in control of these powers—to do with as instructed...

And as the Shaman smoked his pipe, asking for guidance, the Ancient Ones did answer, bringing a prophecy for him alone...

"A long time ago a great illness had set upon all the Native People. From day upon day, prayers were offered by medicine men and healers. So many died that it was feared the tribes would soon perish.

But the Great Spirit appeared and said: ‘On the day of the Full Moon, bring your sick to the Circle of Stone—I will send a Healer...’

So now he kneels to pray within the hot ashes that will not burn, his black companion standing patiently nearby. And as with its master, it too has purpose. From birth, this Dog-With-No-Name had been nurtured with kind hands and healthy sustenance. And soon, with a gift from its own Spirit... an incredible healing love will be passed on...

An owl hoots a long procession through the distant darkness—forecasting a coming storm draped in mystery and magic. For some it is a storm that will bring the power of renewed Life... but for some, perhaps something far worse...

Now here, to this time and place, within the deep Maine woods where the Loon haunts the night’s dark shadows... you may hear the Shaman chant.

He awaits ...

Chapter One

It is said the Ghosts of the Ancients seek out the blowing winds so they may float more swiftly to the Four Directions. Be wary of that sudden chill, or that momentary pulse of warm air. They move among us...

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OF MYTHOLOGY IT IS—A steed of magic...

When during the dark age of nothingness, trolls hid beneath wooden bridges, huge one-eyed giants stripped raw flesh from the innocent, and flying dragons proclaimed dominance from the sky breathing fire and brimstone down upon sir brave knight clad in his armor of gold.

But what could a young girl’s mind cherish more than the horn of the Unicorn? Its magic power giving youth to the old, riches to the poor, and provide safe haven to an innocent traveler journeying across a dark-forested countryside.

Sabrina remembered all the stories from younger years as she rode her white wooden-clad horse up and down, up and down, over and over, around and around—its great horn piercing the air for all to see. And being her most favorite ride, the Unicorn exhilarated her senses to no end as she dreamed the dreams of damsels in distress, of a handsome white knight riding to her aide, and of living happily ever after.

Emily, her mother, stood beside her ‘little red riding hood’, arms moving rhythmically to the music of the calliope, and to the up and down thrusting of the white stallion that Sabrina so joyfully smiled upon. And as the mother reminisced over days gone by when she had experienced her first ride on the old carousel, how could she not be proud here now celebrating Sabrina’s thirteenth birthday.

Like all ages of the children around them, they laughed with continued excitement, hoping the ride would never end...

But of course, all good things do. And as the great menagerie of animals and joyful riders slowed to a halt, and the mass of youthful patrons rushed to find their next moment of gratification, Sabrina remained seated on her stallion, begging her mom for just one more ride.

Sorry honey, but you’ve ridden four times now... We do need to eat soon—I’m getting hungry?

But mom, please, just one more time?

Emily left her side and walked to the edge of the carousel.

Stepping off, she waited briefly, knowing that Sabrina would follow. She realized how her little girl was growing up so fast. And although the child needed to be watched, it was time to allow her to experience some of the mysteries of life, and to let her make decisions of her own.

Disappointed, the red-haired child left the carousel with reluctance, but not without looking back briefly at the white majestic steed standing proudly awaiting its next rider.

Then jumping off the platform’s edge she grabbed her mother’s hand—each pulling the other to be certain of their connection.

Since it was just past noon numbers of thirsty patrons were waiting in line at the beer venue. Emily, heading across the expansive and crowded wooden floor, moved quickly to exit the fairly large open building, wishing only to avoid the increased clamor.

When they walked out of the noisy funhouse and through the lessening crowd of weekend travelers, vacationers, and Saturday afternoon revelers, they held hands ever firmer, bumping and weaving their way, enduring remarks of provocation.

Sabrina became irritated, feeling lost in the crowd.

Mom, where are we going?

Just heading for the beach, sweetie, we’re almost there—Hold on tight!

A little boy carrying a tall cone of blue cotton-candy tripped and fell into the sand in front of them. Looking up at Sabrina, with deep brown resonating eyes, he began to cry.

A large burly man, shirtless, and whose presence filled the air with a strong aroma of ripe bananas, reached down and scooped up the boy with one arm, but left the blue sand-coated fluff to be trampled into the busy beach and melt away.

The boy resisted because of what he had lost.

Across the warm and busy beach, the crowd had thinned out, as did their cloths. And reaching the water’s edge Emily removed her flip-flops, stepping into the cool saltwater up to her ankles relieved.

Sabrina, wearing an old pair of sneakers now soaked through, was glad to once again be able to see more than pounds and pounds of ugly flesh. She peered down through the shallow water as they move west along the beach’s edge—together kicking and splashing, and trying hard not to get wet.

The ocean water was clear and just past high tide. But the sun poked behind a cloud, and a cool chill chided their bare skins. A shiver followed and they picked up the pace, wishing the parking lot wasn’t so far away.

As they moved along the elongated and now narrow beach, Sabrina scanned out over the water to where shallow waves were breaking over a submerged rock which marked the edge of the eel grass; a place where she had spent many hours searching. With the tide moving out, it would be but a couple more hours, and she would be out there looking for her favorite crustacean—with its long horny tail, and a strange hard carapace with eyes that could not see.

A few minutes along and they left the water, the beach sand firm, clean, and still a bit warm. But far above, a billowing cloud, much in the shape of some large predatory bird, moved ever so slowly, across the face of the sun.

Last one to the car is a rotten egg! Sabrina challenged, and took off, kicking up sand.

Emily started to follow, looking forward to a tasty egg-salad sandwich and some hot chicken-noodle soup. But earlier high tides had left behind windrows of seaweed containing driftwood, sharp broken shell, and plastic man-made riff-raff, cautioning her to take heed.

Be careful where you step, Brea, Emily warned as she stopped briefly to slip on her footwear.

But Sabrina was more concerned about winning, and of course she did. After all, it was her birthday...

Reaching the car first, Sabrina fidgeted with anticipation. Knowing it was probably locked she pulled on the driver’s door handle, then jumped up and down with that childhood impatience the young only use when a parent might be watching.

Come on mom, hurry up—unlock the door!

Along with the many other vehicles moving in and out of the parking lot, a white Mercedes for the second time drove slowly past, its driver dressed for other than a day at the beach. He watched Sabrina briefly, acting out her exuberance.

As a late afternoon sun poked its warm smile once again from behind a layer of clouds, Emily unlocked the driver’s side door and grabbed the picnic basket, thermos and a blanket from the back seat of her red VW. She then handed the birthday girl the tan blanket Sabrina had curled up in during their early morning drive down.

Let’s go eat on the beach, honey. I think I saw a few boys fishing down on the rocks near the gut.

Oh, sure mom, like I really care about a bunch of stupid boys fishing! Sabrina responded. She hated being teased—especially by her mother.

Well, we could just watch... Emily replied with a smile.

Scrunching the blanket beneath her arm, Sabrina ignored her mother’s mockery as they walked to a secluded area of firm sand below the parking lot. An onshore wind was building, as was activity along the freshly exposed shoreline...

Clearing away half a dozen items of unwanted beach debris, they spread out the blanket Sabrina had half-dragged behind, using a couple of old wooden pilings for backrests where they proceeded with a simple but hearty lunch.

Although the sun was warm, a cool sea breeze blew in from the bay’s entrance. And through a condensing haze, one could barely see way out to a huge suspended bridge in the distance. Several boats were speeding just offshore, towing skiers through a light chop... daring not to venture too close to the shallows.

Sabrina found it difficult to ignore the young men down on the point. Some were fishing, but most challenged a swift outgoing current by yelling and pushing each other in, showing little concern for the dangers they faced.

As they enjoyed their meal, three Herring Gulls moved in and landed on the sand before them, watching with keen eyes for any morsels of food these visitors might throw their way. Sabrina obliged by tossing out the remainder of her sandwich after eating all but its crust.

Are you full now, little one?

Mom, I’m thirteen... Don’t call me that!

Have you had enough to eat, Miss Sabrina? Emily teased.

Very funny... Yes, I’m quit full dear mother.

Not even room for a special treat?

I don’t suppose there’s ice cream, or maybe a chocolate cake in there? pointing her nose towards the wooden basket that Emily had purposely kept closed.

Nope, I left those at home. However, I brought these, and she pulled out a plastic red tub containing two large double-fudge brownies, coated with powdered white-sugar.

Sabrina’s mouth watered with an anticipated ‘Please’. The three gulls moved ever so closer.

Sabrina nibbled on her dessert, watching a couple with two children and a dog pass along the beach.

The woman waved with a big smile.

Sabrina waved back, then spoke with a hint of sadness.

I wish daddy was here.

"I know sweetheart. I miss him to.

Why, mom? Why did he have to die? Sabrina asked, irritated. And why couldn’t I see his face before they took him away?

I’m not sure. I only know it had something to do with his job.

Yea, catching the bad guys...

With suddenness Sabrina stood, brushed white powder from her chest and arms, and rushed off towards the water’s edge.

Emily reached out thoughts of warning but said nothing.

Watching her antics as she entered the water, Emily knew that her motherly care irritated her daughter to no end. But Sabrina meant everything to her. Since the untimely death of her husband during that bank robbery two years ago, Sabrina and her mom had become very close. How, she thought, was she going to be a loving mom, a guiding parent, and a trusting friend, all while allowing her daughter to grow and gain confidence in her own beliefs? Emily realized that Sabrina was now on her way of turning into a young woman, with hormones, confusion, and all those natural instincts that many parents dreaded.

Emily felt both happy and uneasy knowing Sabrina was beginning to see the world around her for what it was. She took in a deep sigh to relax, and then leaned back once again against the piling. Centering her thoughts, she scanned the panoramic view before her, and allowed her mind to drift away...

As a child, Emily’s parents had brought their children here to Ocean Grove just about every weekend. They would swim, snorkel, and search for fossils down around the point. There had been an old Native American shell-midden at the end of the spit where Emily would spend many hours searching through the shell fragments for stone points and worked bone. In fact, its destruction by a fierce winter storm had created her now deep interest in archaeology.

On the backside of the spit during low tide she and her brother would sneak up and catch elusive fiddler crabs before they could scamper into their burrows; that was before the paved parking lot had been installed. She could remember all the cars parked methodically back there, many on the sand between the tall clumps of eelgrass at low tide.

And then there were those clam chowders her mom would prepare, right on the beach. After a couple of hours treading for quahogs in water up to her waist, then helping her dad collect driftwood, a warm evening fire helped prepare a tasty meal. And for the impatient die-hards, her dad would open a few appetizing ‘cherrystones’ to settle a hungry stomach.

Afterwards, on many of those warm nights, they would sleep on the beach under a sky full of stars, watching satellites passing overhead.

Emily smiled in memory as she remembered chasing Kyle, her brother, across the barnacle-encrusted rocks during their hot summer visits, building up thick calluses on their feet. And during a late winter visit, they would often play teeter-totter on the giant chunks of ice which had floated onto the rocks during a winter flood-tide.

So many times, she had heard her mother’s encouraging words of love, Please be careful dear... now go and have some fun.

How she missed all of them now, and how she cherished every moment she spent with Sabrina, growing up so fast. Wishing to be close, and yet distant... a deep warmth permeated her spirit as she watched the little girl searching among the boulders and eelgrass in water up nearly to her waist, and then standing, holding up a horseshoe crab by its tail to show it off.

And having the time of her life on her thirteenth birthday, how could Sabrina ask for anything more...

But then a foot-high wave rolled passed, striking her back facing the wind. Undaunted, she inspected the underside of a large crab she had found hiding on the back-side of the rock, looking to see if it was carrying any parasites.

Then through the corner of her eye she spotted something, beneath the water. It was shiny, seemed to have color, and certainly out of place.

Wedged in a crack of the boulder, and partially covered with sand, stone, and rock-weed, she could just make out a light-blue glass bottle, the sun dazzling off its surface.

She tried to dislodge it, but another one of those unexpected large waves washed in, filling her mouth. Spitting out the salty taste she held her breath and reached, grabbing the slippery glass by its neck as another wave rolled over and past.

Pulling it free, she held it above the water to view. Something appeared to be inside... with writing on it...

The bottle slipped from her hand and she panicked momentarily, but was surprised when it did not sink. She grabbed it with both hands and held it up for all to see.

Mom, look what I found, Sabrina yelled, her red hair soaked, glimmering.

Emily jumped up and ran the short distance to the edge of the water, not understanding her daughter’s excitement. What is it sweetie?

Look, I found this old bottle, and I think it has a note in it!

Sabrina scurried from the water, dripping wet. And as Emily approached, she too was surprised by the colorful souvenir Sabrina had found.

Wow, look at that! Where did you find it?

Over there, next to my rock. Can we break it open and read the message?

The rolled piece of paper had been sealed carefully inside. It would need a delicate procedure to remove it.

This might be important, Emily stated with caution. I think we should be careful and wait till we get home. It’s sealed in with wax, and we’re going to need a candle to melt it.

Sabrina thought with suspicion, Mom, being my birthday, I don’t suppose you put this over there for me to find, did you?

Emily was surprised by the question, Sorry honey, but bottles with notes do wash up on beaches every now and then.

But I want to know what it says? demanded Sabrina with impatience.

Maybe it’s a secret admirer keeping an eye on you.

Mom... enough already! Sabrina was becoming more and more frustrated.

Well then, are you ready to head on home?

Yes... Let’s go, now! Please?

We may not be back for a couple of weeks, Emily stated realizing just how much Sabrina enjoyed her forays among the niches of the sea, and her desire to ride the carousel.

Did you not beg me to come here, yesterday?

Mom, that was yesterday... old news! This is new stuff—I need to know... NOW!

Okay sweetheart, then help me gather everything...

Collecting all their belongings they walked and ran back to the car, loaded, and prepared to leave for the one-hour drive home.

Fasten your seatbelt please, young lady!

As Sabrina snapped her belt and slipped on her white-rimmed sunglasses, she held the pretty blue bottle up to the sun trying to figure out what the message on the tightly rolled-up paper might say.

Hurry up Mom, I want to call Susie and tell her what I found...

As Emily started her late model VW Bug and drove cautiously out of the confined parking area and away from the hot sun, she didn’t notice the white Mercedes parked far back with its engine running.

Hidden amongst