Ghost World Dream

Photo By Chris Meadows

Chris and Johnny 1955

Ghost World Dream

By John Atkinson

2001: The first thing my sixth grade schoolteacher asked after being apart 42 years was had I taught myself to read. Without retracing my long journey I answered that I had. We talked about my new book, Mercy Me. She was shocked that my vocabulary was so accomplished. Apparently, her preconception about me still held. She talked about another student of hers, Chris Meadows, who cut her hair in his hair shop. That’s where she saw my book. Chris and I were best friends in school, shared the same teachers for three years in a row. What I remembered about Chris was he would never turn his back on me, that he was my brother for life, the Indian Way. As a boy, Chris thought it was strange to hear his grandmother sing old songs in the Native tongue. In those days it wasn’t cool being an Indian. Even though we loved them, sometimes we had to separate ourselves from that part because boys could tease without forgiveness. It didn’t matter how much Indian we were, Chris and I had indigenous thinking running through our young minds like stampeding buffalo. That had to be kept secret. We were in the land of the cowboys. It was just a boyish phase we endured that would change when we became men and the world grew in our favor.

Chris told our teacher about Mercy me and she was proud of my accomplishment. But still negative thoughts prevailed. My last childhood memory of her was the summer of 1958 in front of a country store on Old Washington Highway and Mountain Road. She said, “It’s such a pity you’re so good looking. . . .” She stopped mid-sentence. As a child, I’d heard it all before and I didn’t like being thought of as stupid. She didn’t know me, the man-child Mama had taught to face a diverse world. She would never know about the journey I had taken, the education I received from a voyage across America. She didn’t know I forgave her long ago. She didn’t know I was the Timekeeper.

Since she figured no one would believe what I had done with my life, my teacher insisted I get my school records. I did and the sad notes written from each teacher made me sad. I saw how young Johnnyboy got left out. But tears dry fast and I moved on. I’m so sorry she didn’t live to see me read at the Library of Virginia. Everything in my life had gone full circle.

The eyes of the White Buffalo Spirit came through Chris Meadows that day. No one knew he’d videotaped the event. He sat in an aisle seat and steadied his camera the size of a fist on his hip. Chris witnessed me entering the spirit world to Poe’s Raven to free two souls, Mama’s and mine. Now my mother rides the winds forever in the spirit world. Now she’s reunited with her clan. That was my task, my struggle in life. But first to find a way to set us free, I had to learn the educated ways of the world, reading and writing. After a half-century had passed, only the ghost world dreams are left, and what I did on the long journey to set souls to sail with eagles.

John Atkinson is the author of TIMEKEEPER, a magnificent book about a young boy who fights to overcome illiteracy. Timeekeeper, ISBN 978-0-9776076-5-5, is available in hardcover or paperback .To order your copy call 1-800-228-9316. International orders call: 00-1-831-238-7799 or visit: www.fisherkingpress.com