Kindred Spirits WIP

Kindred Spirit's
A Beginning.
The young man was tired.  He was tired in his soul.  He had lived his life in this city.  Grown up, made friends, gave his heart to a woman, had it given back…in pieces.  Now, after his 27th birthday, he had reached the end of himself.  He was born and raised in the foot hills of the Carolina's.  The Piedmont...  He had laughed at such a name as a child.  He later learned it meant "foothill"; appropriate for the area…only a short 1-2 hour drive to where his family roots were buried deep.
He used to revel in stories he heard from his father and his father's family.  He heard the stories of The People, before the white man, the first days of living in peace and then the dark times when the white man needed more; MUCH more.  But, as with most of us, he grew up.
As he grew, his Grandfather began to tell him more about The People.  He told the older stories of their creation, more of the theology that went along with the stories.  He was the oldest.  It was supposed to fall to him to carry the stories on to the generations coming behind him.  But, he had rolled his eyes at his grandfather's stories; not seen the lessons, nor had he FELT the words. "Silly old man," He thought.  "How can life without cable, laptops, cell phones, indoor plumbing… be better?"   He remembered times when he would visit paw's paw, the heat of the day in summer, the unbearable heat!  But he did not remember the joy of the swimming and hunting trips; the love he felt from his paw paw, paw maw, cousins, aunts and uncles.  Then, the winter times, shivering his way to the outhouse to shit…the roughness of the corn cob.  He would NEVER live like that, he vowed each year as he 'matured'.
He chuckled at that those memories.  "How much I thought I knew then," he muttered to himself.  Now, he had decided that to find his soul, reclaim and rebuild the heart in his chest, he must get back to where he came
from to know where he was going before he became forever lost.
He picked up the phone then put it down.  His palm was sweating heavily.  What his life that bad?  He was comfortable, living well.  Perhaps this was just a phase…success had its own type of stress.  He could only be feeling the common fear of losing what he had gained.  Then, the dreams and nightmares came back to his mind.  No, he had to do this.  He picked the phone up again.  "Uncle James?  It's me.  Do you think I could come for a visit?  No,  I'm fine.  I just…I…I am lost.  I need to find my way back.  I need help.  Yeah?  That would be great…thanks uncle james!.  I will be there by the end of the month.  I need to tie up some loose ends here before I can head that way."
He hung up.  The phone was dripping with sweat, his heart pounding…  Time to get ready…
He arrived at his uncle's house just down the road from the Rez.  He had sold most of all he had and
was.  He grabs the bag and walked in.  "Uncle James, how long has it been?" he asked as the two men embraced.  He felt 10 years old again.  The smells of the house, more a multi roomed cabin, the sounds of the woods around him.  "Too long, cub."  His uncle responded.  His uncle was thin, a bit thinner than he remembered.  His strength hidden in that thin frame, though.  He remembered that much at least.  The man who was and now was 'Cub' again grunted at the embrace.
"I take it you are ready to start your path back to The People?"
The cub/man nodded. He shivered inside for he did not fully remember what this would entail.  How he longed to remember all of paw's paw words now.  It would have made this task much easier.  "I am ready as I could ever be I guess.  But, can one ever be ready for the unknown?"
Uncle James chuckled and nodded. "You at least know where to begin?"  
'I do.  I remember enough to have a set of buckskins made to wear to the river.  From there I will hike to the head of the feeder stream then to the small valley.  There, I will open myself to the Great Spirit and pray that he will agree to send the guides for the journey."

Uncle James grunted and sat at the table.  "I have a gift for your beginning."  He drew a simple buck knife from his
hip.  The cub/man gasped and chuckled at the same time.  "Paw Paw tried to give me that on my twelfth birthday; he said I was ready to take my first step to manhood.  It makes me sick in my soul to think now how it hurt him
for me to sneer and reject the gift.  I thought it was just an old relic.  A modern man does not need a knife.  Thank you Uncle.  I will not sneer at any gift offered to me again."  
He hefted the knife then slid it into his bag and went to the back room to change.