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I had treated myself to the bags back home at my local Aston dealer so I knew they would fit.I pressed the engine start button and listened as the V12 burbled into life. Oh, yes, life was good. I pulled out of the dealers and headed north.I had the first part of the trip planned out in my mind — Daytona Beach, then Jacksonville, Savannah and on to Charleston. I thought I’d go as far as Virginia Beach before heading west.I’d only made fifty miles before I was pulled over by a police car, I knew I had been speeding, in my defense, there wasn’t a lot of traffic and I’m used to driving at eighty-five on the British motorways. Yes, I know the speed limits seventy but who the hell keeps to that. I’d been clocked at ninety in a sixty-five zone.Somehow I managed to get away with a slapped wrist and fifteen minutes spent with the state trooper admiring the V12 under the bonnet, shit I must remember to call it the hood.Seven hours later, having almost kept to the speed limit and only stopped. At first, he could only see them, and not hear them as they sang to him from such a long distance away. There was his father and mother, looking young and happy to be together again. He saw Broken Stick with Still Shadow, both younger than they had been when last he had seen them. He looked for Bent Willow, but he could not see her in the crowd of people that sang to him. Each time that he stood and went to put more wood on his fire, the faces would fade from his sight. In this way, he knew that he had only dreamed of them. He put down those dreams to the loneliness of a too old hunter. Next, he would be talking to himself, believing that he spoke to the spirits too.On the morning of the third day, the storm abated and Two Bears looked out on a scene of pristine white. He made some snow moccasins from the branches and vines that he found nearby and started on the long trek back. It wasn't easy because he was weak from lack of food and his thinking wasn't as clear as it might have.
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