The Stalker

The spirituality begins

   I make it to Pocatello. This is where the Fort Hall replica is. The original has sunk inside the swamp. I almost feel as though I am on a pointless mission. What am I doing here?

  It was a pleasant visit. I got nervous as I made it closer to my destination. The picture in my mind is a cool looking memorial dedicated to the Shoshone. I could see a huge sign in my mind and a respectable landscape.

  As I slept in the bed of my friend's child, I felt as though I am being watched. I could have sworn there was an extra presence. I imagined myself on the Bear River massacre site and an Native American man is watching me. He isn't a man, he is a ghost.

  He stood tall with a solem look on his face. A red feather was in his hair.  The wind stroked his long grey hair. 
  I would wake up nervous. What if I didn't accomplish anything? I was by myself on the road. I was far away from home. The possibility of danger was high. Someone would be able to harm me and nobody would know about it.

   I was going to places that left people wondering. Wellsville? What the hell are you doing there? It used to be Maughan's Fort, silly. It was as though I had known my way around. I drove straight there. I didn't need to use the map. Even though there is no information, I was drawn to where I needed to go.