She said nothing; her eyes were cast across the room, watching the bartender as he prepared her drink.They were served, and Susan took a healthy slug ...rom her glass. Before the liquor could possibly have had any real effect, she visibly relaxed, arranged herself in the far inside corner of the large booth, and waited for it to do its work."O.K.," she said, finally. "Last Friday - 'week ago Friday -- Emma and I were having lunch near here, outside, right across the street -- there." She gestured. An old stringy man with head tattoos came to the door flap and bid us enter. It was an old shaman that I had not seen before. Father had given him sanctuary and succor for his final years. Father left me with the shaman. He had a hoarse, old voice. He could not call the chants anymore. He was frail in the manner of people brittle and thin from age, yet wiry. I had never seen anyone this old before.I told him of my dream. He sat listening, slowly rocking to and fro."Shaman are always alone.". More

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