My ethereal self, entered the dwelling. Each face be it native or white I saw clearly before me. The old ones and the women trying to protect the terrified little ones from the evil spirits of the white men who wandered the halls of this dusty house. Somehow, the spirits of these white men had elongated their heads and enormous fists and hands, sought to taunt and terrify the Illinois people, their shrieks filled the air with the anger they held fast onto, even into the nether world of death. Those massive hands wanted to grab the babies.

I placed myself in front of them raising my arms high above me, and called the great spirit.

Ussen, I call upon the power given to me at birth to protect and send the evilness here back into the realm of darkness, from which they come.

But the souls of these Łiga, only moved back. I could only hold them from my people. I chanted again.

Ussen, shaa he’né’í igoya’I of the Sháa and the Tł’é’na’áí that I can make these Łiga, Idzúút’I, or hold them in the darkness, away from the souls of the Illinois people. But at least that soothed the spirits of those in pain and afraid, giving them a bit of relief and protection. How long I could hold them in the darkness I didn’t know, would I have the energy to continue, would I need to stand between them forever? For now, they were safe and I could look around this house, hoping to find a place to rejuvenate myself and continue with my new mission.

I wandered the house and watched the white men in their strange clothing cleaning a new kind of rifle. Something, I’d never seen before, the air filled with their smoke of cheap cigars, and white man’s whiskey. Their language rough, laughing at the latest crime horror they had committed, finding joy in the recounting of it. Sometimes they talked about Al Capone and what he’d want them to do next, or who he might want killed next. They found delight in evading the law, and in the killing. “It will be fun to add another to the lime pit in the basement, won’t it?” One gruff voice stated, his accent strange and cruel.

“Yes, it will Joe. I hope it’s another of ‘Hymie’s gang, or Bugs’ though I’m sure Scarface would love it to be some of Hymie’s gang.” Frank answered.

“Shush, don’t even call him that in private. You never know when the walls will have ears.” Joe whispered.

The horrors of the spirits that they’d killed swept through my soul. There was an evil in this house, that kept those of the Illinois tribe in fear. Having found them, my spirit knew I couldn’t get them to leave, I’d have to hold them back from those of the tribe. My new mission had begun, the questions to face were many, one of them where would I find the strength if I had to continue this for many decades. Yet that wasn’t a thought for today. Now, I’d hold them, those slimy huge hands reaching out to grab the little ones, the distorted, elongated necks and heads. Someday, perhaps I’d find the happy hunting ground and reunite with my people. But not at the moment.