Hazel was restless again. Writhing, face contorted in panic and anguish, hands tightly gripping the bed sheets. Another one of those dreams. Gato watched on, his face stoic as ever. No doubt he was a walking dead, and though his heart had stopped beating entirely, it was still possible for him to feel. It troubled him actually to see the bishop as such, continuously haunted by the past. A bloodied past should not be remembered, for it would only breed hatred and the bad forces would find it easy to steer one in the wrong direction.

But Hazel would not hear such things. The bishop was convinced of his supposed mission on this Mother Earth; exterminating monsters, or in this part of the world, youkai. Gato’s eyes fell on the golden pendant atop the neatly folded robes. Within it dwelled the souls of those exterminated in the name of good. Souls of those the bishop claimed “are not fit to be even a worm”. Gato could just hear the souls crying for release. He closed his eyes, sympathy washing over him. Souls of every living thing should be treated with respect, returned to the rightful eternal realm, and not forcibly kept. He murmured a prayer to the Great Spirit then.

A low moan caused Gato to turn his attention back to the bed. Hazel was still deeply embroiled in his dreams, beads of perspiration dotting his crinkling forehead. Gato reached into the pocket of his shirt then and took out an object, then laid it flat against his palm. The object was a white willow hoop, with three strands of soft brown feathers, horse hair and red-and-white beads. A silky web was spun within. Except for the hole in the center, the web was otherwise a perfect circle. It was a dream catcher. Legend has it that a long time ago, an old Lakota leader dreamt of Iktomi, the great teacher of wisdom and a trickster. Appearing as a spider, Iktomi spoke to the leader of many things while he spun the first dream catcher. The Lakota leader later conveyed the teachings to his people and the dream catcher was in use since then as a guiding web. Gato always kept it near to his heart, despite his inability to dream, taking comfort in the wisdom of Iktomi and the protection of the Great Spirit.

When Hazel was younger, Gato had offered his dream catcher, explaining that it would sift one’s dreams and visions. The web will catch the good ones, and the bad ones will pass through the hole. But back then, when their relationship had not yet solidified, Hazel was contemptuous. Arrogantly, he had rejected Gato’s good intention, saying it was nothing more than a pagan belief and that he only believed in the will of the Good Lord.

Age breeds maturity, and a few years back, Gato had once again offered his dream catcher. Hazel had smiled and politely refused it. “I need these dreams, Gato,” he had said. “I need to remember Master, for this is the only he is alive to me. Please understand.”

Gato had not, but he accepted the rejection with grace. He was only offering to help, an irony considering this was the same person who killed him and resurrected him with the curse of immortality. But the Great Spirit teaches that one should always learn to forgive and bear no grudges. And the Great Spirit champions compassion as well.

There was a sudden rustling of the bed sheets; Hazel had awaken with a start to a sitting position. And like always, Gato was there to greet him to reality. “Are you alright?”

Hazel let out a strained chuckle. “I’m merely having a nightmare.” He turned his head towards where Gato was, and a faint smile touched his lips. “Why do you hide in the shadows? Come here where I can see you.”

Gato said nothing, stepping out of the window’s shadows and took a seat at the edge of the narrow bed, which groaned under his weight. He observed Hazel who was wiping his damp forehead with the back of his hand. The dream catcher in his hand felt heavy all of a sudden, as if trying to convey an important message.

“Hazel…”

The bishop lowered his hand, raising a questioning brow. “Hmm?”

“Why do you not forgive?”

Hazel’s face tensed for a moment, rightfully so because Gato had never questioned as such before. But a smile quickly ensued. “I am not acting on my interest, Gato. As I’ve told you before, this journey of mine is the Lord’s will. I have long forgiven. I do not need to take vengeance because God delivers His own punishment. “Do not say, ‘I’ll pay you back for this wrong.’ Wait for the Lord and He will deliver you.” And He had entrusted me with that pendant. I’m merely carrying out His punishment on His behalf.”

“The souls are crying, Hazel. I can hear them.”

Blue eyes swiveled to glance at the gold pendant. For a few moments, everything was seemingly quiet, as if time had froze in its tracks. Finally, those blue eyes turned back, and Gato could see hilarity in them. “Good God, you’re right,” Hazel conceded with a laugh. Gato’s jaw clenched slightly, but he maintained his silence. Hazel’s face hardened then, the amusement from before dispelling. “But do you hear the souls of those they killed, the souls of those who had to lose their loved ones?”

To that, Gato said nothing. Of course, there are always two sides to a coin. But a soul is a soul nonetheless, and it was a pity Hazel did not see it that way. Gato looked away then, eyes dropping to the dream catcher in his palm. He wondered what Iktomi would have said in such a situation. But the teacher of wisdom only grants audience to the worthy few, of which Gato doubt he was one of them.

“The dream catcher.”

Gato looked up to see Hazel gazing at it, a slight smile playing on the bishop’s lips. And though he knew he was going to be rejected again, he held out his palm, silently offering the dream catcher.

Hazel had his polite mask on. Gato wondered what the excuse would be this time. To his surprise, Hazel laid his own palm atop his. Hazel’s hand was small, almost dainty in nature, and even in the dimness, its paleness still contrasted visibly against his tanned one.

“I think you know my answer,” the bishop began, his voice quiet and almost placating, “So thank you anyway. Besides, I can’t take anymore than I already have.” The depth of those words was not lost.

“Hazel…”

“You’re the only who isn’t taken in by the dark nature of the souls residing within you.” Hazel’s hand moved then to his companion’s chest, right over where a mute heart was. “But that’s because your faith is strong, even after all these years. That is the only thing that lived on, the only thing I couldn’t take away and I don’t intend to anyway. And this dream catcher, I know you keep it close to your heart. You may or may not realize it but that is what actually anchors you to your faith. If I take it away, your faith will be shaken.”

Gato’s eyes widened at the revelation. Subconsciously, of course, he knew the dream catcher gave him comfort but he never really thought of it as an anchor to his faith.

“‘The bad things will pass through the hole.’ That is what you said before. Remember that always.” Hazel removed his hand and took the dream catcher, fingering it gingerly. He looked up with a smile then, and slipped the item into Gato’s shirt pocket, where it rightfully belonged. “Keep it, Gato, and keep your faith alive. You don’t have to worry about me. As I said before, I need my bad dreams. I still do.”

He leaned forward, touching his forehead against Gato’s, and their eyes met, unflinching. Gato could not feel Hazel’s skin against him, but he knew it was soft. He could not feel Hazel’s even breathing, but he knew it was warm.

“I do not need a dream catcher, Gato, because I know that every time I wake up, you’re always there.”

“Hazel…”

“You’re warm,” Hazel cut in, his hushed voice failing to mask the surprise. “That is strange.” A soft chuckle. Hazel pulled back then, smiling, but the hint of melancholy was not lost to Gato. “I’m going back to sleep now. It is still much too early. I doubt our other companions are awake yet.”

Gato nodded, getting to his feet and preparing to move back to stand by the window. But Hazel grabbed his hand, and Gato knew it was a request for him to stay close by. He moved to sit on the floor, back facing the bishop. The bed sheets rustled and a lone cricket sang outside. Then everything fell silent, except for Hazel’s soft snoring.

Gato placed his palm on his chest, as if making sure the dream catcher was still there. And his ears caught the whisper of a soul then, faint like that of a shy, small boy asking for a candy.

“Be there for me always.”

Glossary:

Great Spirit — The higher power who is the creator of all things, worshipped by the Native Americans.

Lakota — A Native American tribe (sometimes called Sioux), part of a band of seven tribes that speak three different dialects.

Iktomi — A spider-trickster god who was also a culture hero in Lakota myths

“Do not say, ‘I’ll pay you back for this wrong.’ Wait for the Lord and He will deliver you.” Proverbs 20:22, NIV