My Sister Cathy: A Novel About Missing Women

Contents

Missing—But Not Forgotten

Dedication, Acknowledgements & Disclaimer

Prelude

My Sister Cathy

Chapter 1

My Sister Cathy and Uncle Bill

Chapter 2

The Journey Begins (Take your Family with You)

Chapter 2B

Daniel

Chapter 3

Give Them What They Need

Chapter 4

Unwed Mothers and Flower Children

Chapter 5

Two Choices

Chapter 6

Meeting the Source of our Challenge

Chapter 7

Loose ends come together

Chapter 8

My Sister Cathy

Chapter 9

Home (is where the Heart is)

Epilogue for Part 1

Missing Women and Missing Memory

Chapter 10

Part 2 Anne’s Story

Chapter 11

Anne becomes Cathy (or does she?)

Chapter 12

Susie-Q

Chapter 13

And Rachel, Too?

Chapter 14

Chicago and the Cost of Betrayal

Chapter 15

To Be Free

Chapter 16

Truth Might Change Everything

Epilogue for Part 2

Your Turn

Missing—But Not Forgotten

. . . one day, Susie left early, with just a wave to Cathy who was on stage. And the next day, Susie did not show up. And the next day as well. Cathy asked Jimmy, the Announcer, if Susie had quit, but he did not know anything more. And in a day or two, Cathy arrived for work at The Tavern, to see the neon lights turned off, and a couple of Black and Whites parked conspicuously out front.

What’s up? Cathy asked Jimmy. The place was empty.

We are temporarily closed. Susie is missing. I guess you must know. We are just waiting for all the girls to come in. Sam is holding a meeting. Sam was a regular at The Tavern. He dropped by to check that everything was above board every couple of days. Sam was never undercover. He drove a regular police car. I have a daughter ’bout the same age as the dancers, and I do not want to see any of you joining that list of missing women.

When all of the girls were present, Sam sat on a bar stool beside the stage. Susie is missing, he began. And in case you don’t know the way it goes, we are looking as hard as we can, mostly on our own. I go about my regular duties, and stop any suspicious cars and strangers to this neck of the woods. But the official take is most of these missing women are hookers. We do not have the men or time or resources to look for prostitutes."

The sound of grumbling grew louder and louder, until Sam held up his hand. I know, I know, you are entitled to be protected the same as anyone, no matter what your choice of profession. I could not agree more, but what is going on here is illegal in most parts of Canada and the States. Times are tough, but that has always been the way for some women who are down on their luck. And there are a couple of you that seem to think there is nothing wrong because your body belongs to you. Whatever! The hard truth is, Susie may never turn up, and she could be my daughter, or is a close friend of any of you—even a sister?

So what happens now? The manager of The Tavern stepped up. We have bills to pay and we can’t do that with the doors locked and the lights off. If you and your fellow patrol men are here to press charges, or to close us down, please do so, so that I can get the court to uphold the laws. Technically, we are doing nothing illegal, no matter what you say. These women are paid to dance—call it strip or whatever you may, but exotic dancers are not doing anything illegal. And anything beyond that is between the Girls and the customers that they meet here. Am I right?"

Right as rain, Sam replied. But I stop by here too often to know what goes on upstairs. I will admit to overlooking a lot in the name of keeping these women off the missing list. But it comes down to this. He addressed the rest of his talk to the girls waiting around. "Susie may turn up, but my gut feeling is she is another name on the list…

Sharing the Dance—In the Sun

By Steven WinterHawk

I heard our Grandmother

Tell my Sister:

"We Dance so that we can know

Who we are—in the loving eyes

Of the Creator."

"Dance your Dance

Do not be afraid to fall

You will learn about your Strength

And your Beauty

Dance to the Drum in your Heart!"

The way I heard this,

I knew it was also meant

For me.

So I tried to Dance

In the Sun

But I was weak

And I made mistakes

I learned courage from my Sister

What would she do?

She would not give up!

There is another way

Someone from another tribe

Told me about a Man

Who would Dance for me

And I would be free!

So I tried to walk the way

Of another Teaching

I followed a Sacred Man

And watched him suffer

For me and my family

But when I followed him

To the Sundance tree

I stood in the dark

And His suffering was more

Than I could bear to see

"I cannot accept this

I cannot see my Brother

Suffer for my mistakes

I must Dance my own Dance

In the Sun!"

And this Sacred Man

Said to me

"Find your Sister

You are Free."

He proclaimed:

And So AM I.

And so I learned to Dance

My Dance

I learned the Grass Dance

Bending and swaying

In the Wind!

I made my mistakes

But the Earth is forgiving

A GrassDancer goes on ahead

to help prepare the way

For our People

I saw my Sister fall

She smiled back at me

And she Danced again.

Today, I will be Strong

I will Dance in the Sun

No other Man or Woman

Can Dance for you.

Yet you dance for everyone

This is the Mystery

This is the Gift of Life!

Dance the Dance

That was meant for You!

Our Grandmother will be Proud

And the Creator will be Forgiving

When you do.

How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye?

- The Bible… Luke 6:42

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

- Arun Gandhi shares Mahatma Gandhi’s message

The north is a dreaming circle

Sometimes the dream

and the waking seem one

Perhaps they are!

To know that both are right

is to live your dream

To live your dream

is to dance in the circle of forever

This is the path of the heart!

- This is a Circle… Steven Winterhawk

Dedication, Acknowledgements & Disclaimer

The story you are about to read originated in my dreams. Therefore, any resemblance to any person living or deceased should be considered as purely coincidental—unless otherwise noted. Or you may believe, as I do, that everything and everyone in our dreams is a part of ourselves crying out to be heard. I may seem to be going out on a limb to share these dreams, but I believe that this is a story that needs to be told.

A major part of this disclaimer needs to address this as being a story about a relationship to a sister named Cathy. As the story unfolds there may be thoughts by the reader concerning incest. I need to clarify that Cathy is not my biological sister. At the beginning of my dream this was something I struggled to understand, because I remembered her being part of my life since I was a small boy. In the Aboriginal Tradition, all Elders are our Grandmothers and Grandfathers and all women are our Sacred Sisters.

This book is therefore dedicated to the missing women who our society seems to believe are not worth looking for due to the fact that they follow a path that is somehow not up to society’s standards—they may be prostitutes or simply Native Indians.

This story is also dedicated to my Grandchildren and Great-grandchildren, in the hope that there will be a world for them that is beautiful and safe for them to be true to their dreams.

This is also for my partner and soulmate, Cidalia, who has been my inspiration for over 20 years—even before I recognized who she was.

I would like to thank my good friend and Editor, Heather Embree, for helping me to transform my dreams into a readable book.

I would like to acknowledge the tireless work of another close friend and Spirit photographer, George Campana, for his crusade in the cause of the missing women and helping to unite our People from sea to sea. I also thank George for the ghostly picture of a young woman that appears on the cover of this book.

Prelude

My Sister Cathy

This is a Spiritual novel about a sister that I never knew existed, until I woke up one July morning in 2012, from a dream that was as real as any memory of what my waking life could be. This dream, in fact, filled in memories that didn’t exist when I went to sleep that night before. How can that be, you might ask. A word of warning—this experience can mess with your mind and your logical life, if you have not found balance in the world that is your present time and reality. My reality now is not that of the young man in these new dreams. My present reality is that of some 40 years after the fact—a lot more mature and happy in a relationship that makes this dream so much crazier to accept.

In the time since I was that young man, just out of high school, I have pursued other dreams, and wrote in dream journals and still yet-to-be published novels about a search for a soulmate that I believed beyond logic lived just outside of my everyday life. I have since found her—the woman of my dreams was there for me when I exhausted my dreams and chose to take a clearer look at the world that some people call waking reality. My one thought now is: be careful what you ask for, because you will most likely get it. But it might not always be in the way you first pictured it, so be open to accept what Spirit is sending your way. If you are not, you might be in for a rude awakening.

In July of 2012, I experienced a dream that I was a young man again, walking home from my last day at high school in the company of my sister Cathy.

Before that dream, I had no memories of a sister named Cathy and after the dream, and as it progressed, I found myself wondering how I could have forgotten her. Remember my statement about a rude awakening? In my dream, I was less than 20 years old, and life was just about to throw me a curve

Chapter 1

My Sister Cathy and Uncle Bill

My family moved a lot since the time of my birth. I was a late starter at school, and then I was rather late to finish high school. My childhood and teenage years passed quickly and one day I woke up when I was walking home on the last day of school, with my sister Cathy. Cathy has always been there. I could always depend on her to share a unique way of looking at life. Today, my memories also contained other times and events that did not seem to fit. My head was somehow filled with questions that had no logical answers.

So ask your question, Cathy prompted me.

Have you ever had a friend (or sister) that seemed to know what you were thinking? That is how Cathy and I have been since as long as I remember.

Are you really my sister?

Well, Bob, do you remember me?

Now that you mention it, I do—remember you, but I don’t think you remember me… my name is not Bob.

Ok, I am a real girl, and not a figment of your imagination. I think, therefore I am. But I am not so sure about you—Bob, or would you prefer another name? What should we call you? Cathy stopped walking, and screwed up her pretty forehead (did I tell you that Cathy is not a common girl—she is extremely pretty—for a sister), making a face to show that she was thinking hard to solve a tough problem. What—oh what should we call you?

How about my real name? Do you remember?

Of course, but that takes away the adventure. How about Brin?

How about… ? Oh what the bother, Brin it is. Secretly, I have a daydream in which I am called Brin. How did Cathy know that? Well, of course, we talked all the time about daydreams, Cathy and I. Cathy and I have no secrets from each other.

Sure we do, she replied to my unspoken thoughts. "Women are part of the Mystery, you know? But men and boys, well they blurt out their thoughts like you think