Pathways - Jeri Taylor [22]
Colors melted still further and swam in constantly shifting patterns until they settled once more into recognizable form.
He was in a secret spot within the forest. He knew this place well; he had found it as a child, a small clearing where the stream pooled and leafy fronds obscured it from prying eyes. It was a place he came to when he wanted to be absolutely alone, a place where he felt safe.
Chakotay smiled. It felt good to be there. Even though there was a rather large green-and-yellow snake coiled right in the middle of the clearing. He felt no apprehension, none of his usual trepidation. He simply stared at the reptile, amused at this strange irony. Did his unconscious have a sense of humor?
“Are you my spirit guide?” he asked of the snake.
“Am I?” the serpent replied to his mind, in a voice soft as a breeze through the trees.
“I thought that was how this worked. I’d take this journey and find a spirit guide.”
“I wasn’t aware there were rules and regulations. This is your journey. It will be what you want it to be.”
“That can’t be true. I don’t like snakes. I wouldn’t have chosen you.”
The reptile’s forked tongue darted out, testing the air, his lidless eyes glittering. “Then don’t. What would be more to your liking?”
Chakotay pondered. “Something—more powerful. A bear, perhaps.”
The snake’s voice in his mind was amused. “If that’s what you wanted, where is it?”
“How should I know?” Chakotay was beginning to feel annoyed. “I don’t know how this works.”
“You came here easily enough,” the snake’s voice said lightly. “You must be at least somewhat receptive to what you find.”
“I came here to get answers about my future.”
“Oh, your future. That’s very important.”
Chakotay felt foolish speaking like this to a snake. But he made no move to leave the clearing, and he still felt no anxiety about being in some proximity to the creature which had caused him uneasiness all his life. “If you’re my spirit guide, then guide me. What do I do? Go back to Starfleet Academy or stay on my home planet?”
The snake uncoiled beautifully, and flowed around the edges of the clearing. Chakotay turned to watch it, fascinated by its easy muscularity. “That’s a hard one,” it said as it glided along the ground. “Go or stay home? Go or stay home?”
Chakotay felt a stronger sense of annoyance. It sounded very much to him as though this lowly snake was making fun of him. He doubted that was how spirit guides behaved. “Well?” he asked at last, when it seemed that nothing further would be forthcoming from the serpent, which continued its relentless progress around the clearing, circling and circling and circling.
“Well what?” it responded.
“What answer do you have for me?”
“I don’t have any answer for you.”
“Then what’s the point of my being here?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask the bear?”
And with that, the brightly colored coils disappeared into the leafy ferns, leaving Chakotay alone in the clearing with only the sound of the trickling stream for company.
Frustrated, he turned in a circle. “Is there a bear?” he called out, but there was only silence. “A wolf? An eagle?” He’d heard of those noble animals serving as spirit guides. But there was no response.
“A parrot, perhaps,” he called out, determined to conjure up a guide he could accept. “Or a macaw. I know the creation myth.”
The clearing was still except for the sound of trickling water. Even the usual forest noises were silenced. He stood for a few moments trying to think of another animal.
“All right,” he said finally, “it doesn’t have to be a powerful animal, or a noble one. What about a raccoon, or a beaver? A woodchuck. A prairie dog.”
He imagined he heard laughter in his mind, but of course that wasn’t possible. He waited.
“All right, have it your way. How about a snake?”
The green-and-yellow serpent erupted