“Jeremy,” Frank said, kneeling above him.

“Frank?” Jeremy shouted, blinking his eyes open as he lowered his hands from his ears. The dust cloud and noise were gone, and he lay on his back staring up at a cloudless fall sky. “Are you really here?” he asked, lowering his volume. His throat was scratchy from thirst once again.

“I think so.”

“Where are we?”

“I jumped into you.”

Jeremy rolled over and pushed himself up to a kneeling position.

“Are you hurt?” Frank asked.

“No, light-headed.” He stood up slowly and looked around. The yard, the wrecked mobile home, Abe’s corpse. It was all as he’d left it.

“How long was I gone?”

“Minutes. I didn’t know what would happen since you’re a seer, but I had to stop you.” Shadows rimmed Frank’s eyes, and he seemed less substantial somehow. The hole in his chest was gone, though.

“You look terrible,” Jeremy said.

“I’m not good at possession. I lost you after the tree. Where did you go?” Frank leaned toward him, peering into his eyes as if he would find the answer there. “Maybe it’s because you’re a seer. I’ve never tried possessing a seer.”

Jeremy put his hand on Frank’s chest. It wasn’t quite substantial, more like touching shaving cream. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He tried to see as he had with the sad little creature at Mount Rushmore, but he couldn’t. Nothing came to mind. No name, no insight, nothing. Or maybe it didn’t work with ghosts. “Maybe it only works when I’m dreaming,” Jeremy muttered and opened his eyes as he pulled his hand back. Had it been a dream, or had he really traveled to the past?

“What happened to you?” Frank asked. “You were just gone. You stared straight ahead, looking at nothing.”

“At the end, before I left, I was you.” Jeremy shuddered at the memory.

“What do you mean?”

“I was hanging in your body; I saw your memories and thoughts and felt...” Jeremy rubbed his neck where the noose had been.

Frank stared at him intently, leaning even closer. “You what?”

“It’s like I possessed you, back then, and then I was gone, and… I thought it had all been a dream. I was on the road again, free, then a gift shop, then I saw them blowing up Mount Rushmore… it doesn’t matter. I see you now, Frank. I know who you are.”

Frank studied his face for a moment longer, and his mouth formed into a thin line. “I think you do, Jeremy.”

Jeremy clasped the amulet around his neck as he spoke. “Names have power. Symbols for control of what’s inside and out.” Dropping his pack, he yanked the top open. Would the guidebook and toy hatchet be here? They were from the dream or whatever place he’d been, so how could they? He felt foolish digging for them, but his hand landed on first the book and then the plastic tomahawk, and his reservations melted away. The places he visited had been real, even if his body never left. He pulled them from the pack and tried to hand them to Frank, but he recoiled.

“You have to own your place,” Jeremy said, holding them out. “I get it now. You walked in two worlds the best you could, like Zitkala-Sa. You did your best, but they stacked the odds against you. You couldn’t win. Well… it was stupid to get involved with a white woman, but either way, something was bound to happen. You couldn’t belong in the white world, and you didn’t fit in with your tribe because you had never been in it completely. But all of us have to be where we are; we are always in our place, no matter what. It’s about acceptance.”

Frank stared at the items in Jeremy’s hand. “Zitkala-Sa means Red Bird,” he said.

“Take it.” Jeremy held out the child’s toy and guidebook, but Frank still didn’t take it.

“Where did you go?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a child’s toy, a cliché for us. It’s a stereotype that—”

“It is, but if you accept what the world is like, with all the good and the bad, you’ll find your place. You don’t have to like it; just see the world as it is.”

Frank lifted his hand but didn’t reach for the objects.

“Frank is your given name, a missionary one. But you’re more than that. It’s not mysterious, and it’s not destiny, Frank. It’s cultural programming you lived through. Take it and own it.”

Frank tentatively reached out and touched it with his fingertip as if it would bite him before taking hold of the shaft. At that moment, Jeremy knew his name.

“Ohanzee O Kogna.”

“Shadow Between?” Frank said.

“It’s not the name that carries power; it’s the idea that it forms. You were in both worlds, no matter what you chose to do. You still are, and that’s okay.”

As Frank considered this, Jeremy noticed the toy tomahawk’s color fading to match Frank’s semi-transparent body.

“Take care of Adelia. Don’t leave her in this twisted place, Jeremy.” Frank looked over to the grass where Adelia’s bag lay, and Jeremy followed his gaze. Abe’s corpse lay close by. When he shifted his gaze back, Frank was several meters away, walking through the field.

He turned his head to the side and spoke as he strode away, tall prairie grass swaying at his sides. “You showed me my place, Jeremy, with actions more than words. Thank you.”

Jeremy watched him go, and a moment of peace settled over him. He was a seer now, and that was okay, too. It was still hard to think about his childhood, the easy violence of his father’s hand and his mother’s complacent stare, his brainwashed sister, a collaborator fueled by the church’s rhetoric. Why did he escape and not her? Was her programming any different than his or Frank’s? Hate anyone different. Believe the Bible's words no matter what and shape them to condemn others. Use the book to discipline those who stray or don’t believe. Even after years on the road, he still struggled to see people through a lens of his own and not his parent’s. But that was okay, too. He was trying. And he was okay. But Adelia wasn’t.

He took a deep breath before turning toward the bag in the grass. As he approached, he could already feel Adelia’s anger. It floated through the air like a tangible presence. The moment he touched the bag, the shouting erupted. “How could you! Coward!” Adelia swung her fist at him as she reappeared. She was mist becoming solid. He ducked but felt a slight tingle as her fist sped by. He was pretty sure she could do a lot worse, so she couldn’t be too mad.

“Wait—”

“You left me here, in this place. Don’t you understand what you did?”

Her arms were trembling, and her fists were clenched.

“It wasn’t me,” he said. “I mean, it was but my wound—"

“This place is tainted. Filled with years of death. You put me back into that bag. I could kill you.” She glared at him with fire in her eyes and took a half step toward him, speaking between clenched teeth,

“I didn’t. I just dropped it; you could have stayed out.”

“No, Jeremy, you don’t know what you can do yet. In Sanctuary, it’s easy to come out, and even outside of Sanctuary, I can do it with a little more effort, but you forced me back in when you were angry. Just. Like. Abe. Did.”

He took a shuffling step backward. “I didn’t know. I don’t even remember. Frank said my wound made me crazy.” He looked down at his arm for the first time since returning and saw the washcloth bandage, but the bleeding had stopped. “I wasn’t ready. But I understand now. I’ll help you get back to your Sanctuary so you can be free.”

Adelia unclenched her fists, but her eyes remained locked on him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he wondered if it was magic or just her anger that was affecting him. She took a small gliding step forward, reminding him of a great cat.

“You will never confine me like that again,” she said calmly. Jeremy felt waves of aggression flowing out of her. He was much happier when she was yelling. Her sudden switch to a calm predatory demeanor scared him more than visible violence and anger ever would. The most dangerous times with his dad were when he was reticent. Then, a sudden slap or punch.

“I won’t,” he said. “I promise.” She looked at him a moment more as if to drive her point just an inch deeper.

“Where is Frank?” She looked around for the first time.

“He’s gone,” Jeremy said. She shifted her gaze back to him, brilliant brown eyes settling down to a smoldering glow compared to the fiery rage a moment ago.

“His quest is done?”

“He possessed me to stop me from leaving.” She scowled at him, and Jeremy hurried on. “The wound in my arm was infected or something. I don’t remember much, but he jumped into me, and it all started.”

“Good,” Adelia said. She turned and started walking down the road without looking back. He hurried to catch up but walked slightly behind, avoiding eye contact. He wondered if they would ever be friends again. If that’s what they had been before. It was jarring to think of someone as a friend even if they weren’t human. It was the first time in his life that those thoughts had passed through his mind.

“Be vigilant. I expect Crag has returned by now.” Her angry tone softened, and he wondered if she could feel his regret and worry through the bag. “He’ll want revenge. Let’s hope Kenneth’s Cabin is well hidden by now. Pinta and Sinta should be well prepared.”