Page 69 of Chaos has a Name
The euphoric feeling hit hard, and it didn’t take long for the psychedelic properties to kick in.
In the smoke, and from consumption, he began his trip into the calm to begin his dream walking.
There, he hoped to find the answers because he was desperate to get some advice.
When he opened his eyes, he was alone in the trees, standing in the middle of the forest. No longer was he sitting on his rocks, breathing in the smoke.
It was then when he heard it.
That familiar laughter was a sound that he’d not heard for over a decade.
“Dad!” he shouted, as his voice echoed across the woods and reverberated back toward him. “I need to see you! Where are you?”
Wyler waited.
And there was nothing.
This wasn’t the first time he’d called for Timothy, and he was going to keep trying until he came.
If anything, he was persistent.
At some point, his father would appear, and he’d be able to talk to him because he missed him more than words would ever explain.
There was a deep longing to cross so he could be with the people he loved. Would he miss his wife, children, and grandchildren?
Yes.
But his soul wanted to go home.
Wyler could feel the pull.
As he stood there, a pretty butterfly floated past him, and the colors were absolutely gorgeous.
Everything in the smoke was magnified, and all of his senses were heightened.
When a bird cawed from somewhere in the trees, he knew when he arrived.
That would be the original raven.
When there was the sound of flapping wings, Wyler knew it began.
“Hey, Dad,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”
Behind him, he could feel his presence as his father transformed from that big raven into the form he remembered before his death.
The mighty Shaman had arrived.
FINALLY.
“My son, what is this all about?” he asked, standing there.
Turning around, Wyler faced his father and there was that sucker punch to his chest.
He still looked the same.
“Of course, I do,” Timothy admitted. “Did you think I’d have blonde hair and less Nativeness?”
It offered calm to Wyler.
