Where the cabin once stood - Answer to billybuc's challenge -The-Lone-Sentinel
This is a flash fiction story with a tad of truth, to accept the challenge by Bill Holland known as billybuc on HubPages, using the picture prompt from the "The Lone Sentinel"
Where the cabin once stood
The beginning
Caroline’s father was a Cherokee Brave of the “a ni gi lo hi” (Long Hair) clan and her mother half Cherokee, half white.
Like her mother Caroline was strong willed, and resented having to work from sunup to sundown. She saw no future with a red man, and the young men of her clan were considered brothers and forbidden to marry within their own clan and most of the braves that were not of her clan felt intimidated by the fact that Caroline was better at hunting and shooting than they. Her mother taught her to do many things how to shoot both with a bow and a gun; Sophie also taught her daughter how to speak and read the white man’s language, and the Tsalagi language. Sophie also taught her daughter to think and stand up for herself.
When Caroline was summoned by her father to his lodge she entered and sat down in front of the fire near her father. She felt honored that her father sought her counsel.
Sophie usually sat in on the councils, but the past winter had been hard on Sophie and she succumbed to pneumonia and her spirit had left her.
Caroline speaks for the “a ni gi lo hi” (Long Hair) clan
Caroline missed her mother but, now she was the one who was called upon to speak for the women of the a ni gi lo hi (Long Hair) clan.
Caroline watched as the elders entered and took their place and sat before the fire. She knew them by sight, and most by name. The elders were followed by a stranger, who entered and took a place showing his profile.
Caroline meets her future husband
Transfixed on his profile, Caroline her mind began to wander as she tried to remember, had she seen this handsome brave before?Thomas was tall, tan and fit, like most braves.
Inola her father called her by her tribal name. When she did not respond, he called her Caroline (her name given by her mother.) She snapped out of her trance as Thomas presented his request, and turned and looked into her eyes. She had never seen eyes so blue, she blinked as if they were going to burn a hole into her soul, and answered him in his own language.
When Caroline spoke another ripple of shock was sent through Thomas, and he questioned how she came to live with the tribe. Caroline replied, as though reading his mind. “I am the daughter of a tribal elder, with a motion towards her father, and my mother was half white.”
Thomas was given permission to drive his herd of cattle across the tribal land and also permission to wed when he asked for Caroline's hand.
Finding that the work was harder than she had thought it would be, in the white man’s world with no other women to share in the chores but, Caroline had grown to love the kind and gentle man she had married. A year into their marriage Thomas and Caroline were blessed with a son they named Adam, and the following year Mindy was born. Caroline now felt that her life was complete and she no longer yearned to return to her people, besides she now had Thomas and her babies.
Things took a turn in Caroline’s life and into their fourth year Thomas became ill and died leaving Caroline with no way to support herself and her children, she could not work the land by herself, and she had to return to her father’s, and her clan.
Caroline had not been with the tribe for long when she met a brave from the a ni wo di (Paint) clan and became his wife. Within the year she died giving birth to a little girl, whose name she had chosen before she was born. Her new husband could not care for the children and left Cassandra, Adam and Mindy to the care of Caroline’s father.
Adam, Mindy and Cassandra given new names
Adam was now called Yancy (meaning Englishman) because of his bright blue eyes; Mindy was now Atsila (meaning fire) because of her intense stare at anyone she met; and Cassandra was known as (blossom) Adsila.
Growing up Adam/Yancy and Mindy/Atsila had been allowed to attend the white man’s school and as they learned they taught Cassandra/Adsila to read and write the white man’s language and growing up with their grandfather all three spoke the Tsalagi language.
Mindy/Atsila, married a white man and in the woods is where their cabin stood. Adam/Yancy also chose to live among the white people, and became a teacher.
Adsila meets Adahy
The Cherokee people were/are social and have social events around the campfires it was on one of these occasions when the seven clans came together as Cassandra emerged from her grandfather’s teepee and moved with the stealth of a cat. Light from the campfire sent sparkles of red highlighting from her Auburn hair, she was the most beautiful woman Adahy had ever seen. Adahy (meaning lives in the woods,) from the a ni sa ho ni (Blue), clan.
Although he had not spoken to Adsila, he knew she was the one. Adahy spoke with her grandfather and asked for her hand in marriage. I will only give my permission with Adsila’s consent, as her mother and her grandmother had their own mind, so does this granddaughter of mine.
Cassandra was drawn to Adahy and they were given the opportunity to get to know each other and soon she was looking forward to becoming his wife.
Cassandra mysterious meeting
Cassandra was mysterious and sometimes she would disappear for days at a time. Adahy grew suspicious and asked her tribal mother, who was their chaperone during their courtship, where Adsila had gone. Her tribal mother only replied, Adsila (Cassandra) goes where she wants.
Cassandra/Adsila looked for Adahy and not finding him she road away, not knowing he would follow her that day.
He followed her to the cabin in the woods, stopping at a distance but close enough to see as the cabin door opened and they embraced the handsome young brave wearing white man's clothes and his beloved. He could not think, she had made a fool of him he was thinking as he rode back toward the village He wished she were dead!
The Wish
Cassandra/Adsilla had not returned and it was getting late, it would soon be dark and Adahy could no longer wait.
Thunder was rumbling and lightening lit up the darkening sky. Adahy mounted his horse and road toward the cabin, he planned to beat down the door to find out WHY?
In the distance he saw the glow and urged his horse to gallop faster. He saw the cabin engulfed in flames, and remembered his wish that Cassandra/Adsila were dead, and wanted to take it back that thought in his head.
As he neared the cabin he could hear her screams and those of someone else he froze in his tracks and watched as flames licked at the door and a man with clothing ablaze. Was he trying to get in or trying to get out?
Living in the woods
The next five years Adahy (living up to his name) wondered alone living in mountains and woods, tormented by the wish that his beloved would die. He would take the wish back if he could.
Where the cabin once stood
© by Shyron Shenko
Where the cabin once stood
Not one piece of wood
And no longer a trace
Except the lone sentinel still stands its place
Where the cabin once stood
The scenes from that night still play in his head
And the hurt by the words that he said
Could not be washed away by the tears that he shed
Where the cabin once stood
The lone brave dismounted his steed
And stood where he stood before
Remembering the flames engulfing the door
Where the cabin once stood
He would take back the wish if only he could
When he watched in silence the inferno grew
What caused the fire God only knew?
Where the cabin once stood
In the next scene he watched the man at the door
His clothing in flames
Is this the man he should blame?
Where the Cabin once stood
He rushed to the man
And threw him down
Rolling him over and over on the ground
Where the Cabin once stood
And he looked at the face of the man Cassandra embraced
But he had seen him before
As he remembered him as a member of her clan
Where the Cabin once stood
Forbidden to marry within one’s own clan
Was he being used to shield their plans
While she met secretly with this man?
Where the cabin once stood
He knelt on the earth where grass now grew
Did anyone else know what he knew?
As the roar of the fire still sounded in his head
His mind filled with raging anger
He unsheathe his knife
But, his heart tempered by compassion
Prevented his taking of the man’s life
Where the cabin once stood
He tried not to think as he hoisted the man upon his steed
Climbed up behind him
And galloped away at break-neck speed
The medicine man was waiting
As if, by premonition he knew
And had gathered Yellow-Spined Thistle
For burns he also prepared other brews
Where the cabin once stood
Five years he tried to forget the past
Now in front of the Lone Sentinel
He would find peace at last
With the tip of the knife turned towards his heart
The torment he knew would soon fade
And threw himself upon the blade
Keeping the pact with the Great Spirit he’d made
He laid on a fluffy tick with downy white sheets
Under the bandage his heart still beats
When I first saw you I thought you were dead
So for you own safety you are tied to the bed
In the Tsalagi language the white man spoke
Were the Cabin once stood
The Lone Sentinel watches over the sacred ground
After the lightening strike burned the cabin down
Where you saved my life, I lost both my sisters
And you lost your soon to be wife
You know who I am? Adahy asked
Cassie wanted to surprise you with a brother namely me.
If she had found you that night
You would have perished in the cabin
Where the cabin once stood
In front of the Lone Sentinel
They both understood
They lost love and found brotherhood
How much easier it is to go forward not having to hoist or drag those huge grudges along with us, letting them spoil the future as they tainted the past, just by their presence. It is always better to travel light...
— Au fait (C.E. Clark)Just a few of the wonderful authors who accepted billybuc's challenge
- THE LONE SENTINEL: Short Story Response to billybuc's Photo-prompt Challenge
This is a response to a photo-prompt challenge. Set around the beautiful Isle of Avalon, it spans several generations and follows the fate of a cottage and fireplace built by a young man called Art. - The Lone Sentinel - a Bill Holland Challenge
This story is my response to a Bill Holland Challenge creative writing project based on the image and title provided - The Lone Sentinel. It was also created within the context of "The Homeplace Saga" - Missouri Homestead: my response to billybuc's writers' challenge, The Lone Sentinel
A young man and an elderly woman visit an old homestead in rural Missouri. She tells her story, and time takes on new meaning for both of them.
© 2015 Shyron E Shenko
Comments
If you turn it into a novel it will be an amazing one I'm certain. I would love to read it. I don't read a lot of fiction these days, but I would make an exception for this novel if you decide to write it. I think it would do very well.
Posting this on AH and FB.
Still having chilly nights, but I'm afraid summer is just around the corner. Hope all is well with you. Blessings dear friend . . .
Had to come back and visit this excellent story/poem again. As you know this is one of my favoritest favorites that you have written. I love this story because it seems to me very creative. This is another one that could be fleshed out to encompass a novel. You create great characters and story lines and you might be surprised to know how difficult that can be. Especially creating believable characters.
Well, it got a little colder las' night than forecast, just below freezing. I'm thinking the renowned Farmer's Almanac is not so dependable as this is not my idea of a 'mild winter.' Hope you and John stayed warm and that all is well there. Take care my dear friend. Blessings to you both.
Came back to share this exceptional story, so well written, and interesting. This is without question one of my favoritest favorites that you have written! I could see this as part of an historical novel that you could self-publish on Amazon/Kindle.
Hope all is well there dear friend and that there are no more freebies forthcoming from Coors or anything similar from anywhere. Take care . . .
Know I was just here, but this piece is outstanding so I have to come back and share it again.
Gonna be out tomorrow afternoon most likely, but I hope you and John have the best year of all in 2016. Blessings and hugs dear friend.
This is a fantastic story and well done. One of my favorites of yours. Sharing it again for anyone who hasn't read it.
Thought I would give this fantastic story another share. I really enjoyed this story and it is superbly written!
Hope you and John are both well and not working too hard. Temps are coming down but they're still too high for me. Take care . . . blessings and hugs, dear friend . . .
Really liked this story and so I've come back to share it again. Too hot to sleep but I'm so tired I can't think. Hope all is well with you and John. Take care . . .
Came back to share this again because I think it's so good.
Did you see we're to have temps in the 100s all next week? Maybe if you would talk to your grass and let it know what's coming it would hunker down to preserve the nutrients it has because they will be much needed next week and perhaps beyond. Maybe it will wisely take a break from growing for a few days . . .
Hope you are taking care not to stay out for too long at a time. Blessings and hugs . . .
Carefully woven both the prelude to the poem and the poem. Both held my interest from beginning to end.
You have met the challenge that bill provided for sure.
Angels are headed your way this afternoon ps
Great story, Shyron, and your poem is wonderful. I like the way you've used it to give your twist to the story. How sad and poignant it is but there is some hope left at the end. Well done! (and thanks for including a link to my response)
Ann
Excellent response to this challenge. Thanks for including some of the others, at the end, including mine! ;-)
Shyron, this is a beautiful story full of love, honor and Indian pride. I loved it and your poetry. The video was perfect. Hugs
A great story! Very interesting and how did you ever think of such a mysterious plot? So lucky Adahy didn't kill Adam when he had the opportunity. Bad enough to live with the terrible turn of events as it was. I knew Cassandra was visiting her brother, not another man, when you described their embrace. Cassandra just wasn't the type to mess around. But I knew, too, that Adahy would think the worst, because unfortunately, it seems to be human nature for people to always think the worst about other people.
You must have done a lot of research to make this story so authentic. I know you are part Cherokee, but you didn't grow up living that life, and you name some interesting tribes and give them some interesting names, etc. I can't give you enough credit and praise for this part of the story. It adds so much to the believability and genuineness of the story. In addition to your research work you seem to have a natural talent for telling a really fascinating story that keeps a person wondering what will happen next and so it's a must read once started.
What an honor to have a quote taken from a previous comment placed in this story! Thank you dear friend.
Voting this up and BAUI, sharing with followers, pinning to Awesome HubPages, and posting on FB.
Do hope you are inside at this hour staying cool. It was already 90 F. and rising here, before 10 AM. If you don't take care of yourself you won't be able to take care of anyone else either.
Wonderful response. Very creative and poetic.
Terrific response Shyron. I was transfixed by the story and poem. This was worth the wait. (in the links at the bottom the first two the both the same). Voted up.
Dear Shyron,
What an wonderful flash fiction/poem combo response to Bill's interesting challenge. You certainly lived up to the challenge and then some!
I am so glad you are going back and participating in some of the challenges, as I am thinking of doing the very same thing.
God bless you
Shyron, your poem is a nice touch to finishing the story. Moral here: don't jump to conclusions.
What a beautiful response to the challenge, Shyron. A beautiful story, beautiful poetry, a little history lesson tossed in, some great research....wonderful job my friend. Thank you so much for taking the time to respond to this one. You did yourself proud.
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