by C C Daniels
I laughed.
“That’s what he said.”
I felt Kanaan’s eyes on me.
Are you looking at my butt?
Yup.
“Stop.” I put my free hand over it, and we laughed all the way back to the gathering.
The circle was in the center of the powwow. A number of eastern Ute-style tipis were set up on the far side of the site. The closer we got to the center of the powwow, the noisier it got in my head. I concentrated on the beat of the drums. It helped some to mitigate the volume of everything else. I scanned the crowd and found MawMaw and Uncle Jun. Bag slung over my shoulder, I took Kanaan’s hand to lead him to our group.
“There you are, sweet girl.” Woo-woo MawMaw scooted over and made me sit next to her.
Kanaan took the bag and put it between him and me for safekeeping.
MawMaw roughly grabbed my right hand and immediately began tracing the triangle on my palm. Uncle Jun sighed sadly and shook his head at me before glancing back at MawMaw. There was definite moisture in his eyes. It glistened in the light of the circle fire.
Wray! I heard Amaya’s familiar voice through the clamor in my head.
My eyes darted around the circle until I spotted her and her family on the other side of the circle—as far away from me as they could get. I smiled and waved a greeting. She and Kai waved back. That got Mrs. Bell’s attention. She followed their gaze to me and pursed her lips in disapproval.
“Bitch,” Kanaan whispered.
“Hey. Don’t.” I squeezed his hand and scolded him. “She’s a mom doing what she thinks is best for her kids. You can’t blame her for that.”
“Yeah, I can. You saved her son’s life.”
Shhh. I warned him with my eyes, too, and glanced at the faces around us to judge if they heard him. It didn’t seem like it.
That song done, the drums stopped, and the dancers melted back into the ring of people. Then, the three elders gathered together and sat in a triangle shape. Their backs to the fire and one another, they faced out to the people and Sawaich began to tell the story I had always loved.
“Thousands of years ago,” his voice was strong.
“No.” Miquin stopped him. “Millions of years ago.”
Allohak shook his head and stopped Miquin. “Billions of years ago, it was the beginning of our Earth.”
It was Sawaich’s turn to tell more of the story. “Billions of years ago, the Manitou in the sky wanted to create something beautiful. They ripped a hole in the darkness and pushed all the leftover rocks and stones from their sacred floors into that hole. That’s how they made our home, our Earth.”
The minds of Ute surrounding the circle quieted to listen to the familiar story. I heard the elders’ voices in my own ears and as they echoed through the mind of each person there. It was kind of beautiful.
Miquin scooped a handful of the red dirt, lifted it high above his shoulder, and through the bottom of his fist, let the dirt drizzle back to the ground. “Then they opened their hearts and bled their blood to create the mountains and the rocks.”
Allohak threw water from his canteen. “And they watered the seeds they had planted in this new world they made. That’s how the Nuutsiu were born.”
The elders stood, still in a triangle, and began to dance as the drummers beat softly on their instruments.
Allohak held up his ceremonial rattles. The rattles were made of superthin buffalo skin and when shaken, produced not only noise, but also tiny flashes of light. As a kid, I was fascinated by the magic of them, until a science class explained it. It was the friction between the pieces of quartz in the rattle that created the sparks.
The drumming got louder. The elders moved out to make a bigger triangle and gather others from the ring of people to dance with them.
Allohak held his hand out to me first. Dance and celebrate your birth.
MawMaw gave him the hand of mine she was holding. I unfolded my legs and got into the circle with him. And, as strange as it would sound, I felt a universal kinship with him as we danced with the sky above and the red dirt under my moccasins.
After a moment or two, the elders and their partners danced away from one another to each choose another person from the crowd.
I heard Kai begging in his mind for me to choose him. I’ve never danced, he thought. I moved closer to him. Smiling at an angry Mrs. Bell, I held out my hand for Kai. He deserved this whether she liked it or not.
“Celebrate your birth, Kai,” I repeated the line and thought of his healing rebirth.
He got up instantly. At first, he moved awkwardly using just one crutch, but soon he danced wildly. His head bobbed and knees bounced high from the ground to chest level. Insane happiness surged from his pores. His joyful aura surrounded me making me just as ecstatic.
Next, I wanted to choose Kanaan, but—
The apple can’t be left alone.
He nodded his agreement. So, I chose someone else at random.
As each dancer chose another person, the crowd inside the circle got bigger and so did the noise in my head. I had to sit to get calm. I slid in next to Kanaan, who smiled at me and held my hand. We watched everyone, even MawMaw and Mrs. Bell, dance. In an effort to stem the massive racket I heard, I breathed extra deep and focused on the beat of the drums that echoed through everyone’s consciousness.
I felt rather than saw Allohak behind us. I turned to him and he motioned for me to follow him. In one hand, I gripped the bag with the skull in it and kept Kanaan’s hand in my other.
Only you, Allohak insisted.
Kanaan is the person I trust most. If he doesn’t come, neither do I.
Allohak paused.
He’s a Lykota, just like you.
Finally, Allohak nodded his reluctant consent. Leaving the dancers in the circle, he led us to the elders’ tipi set up at the very edge of the clearing.
As we moved farther away from the circle, the din in my head lessened, replaced instead by the sound of a soothing soft chime. By the time we got to the biggest tipi, the chime was all I heard.
Above the opening flap of the tipi was a string of stones. Some were the same material as the blue gemstone ring Gertie gave me. Others were the green beads that Gertie and Mrs. Bell wore. The rest were a yellow stone that I didn’t recognize. Allohak ducked to enter the tipi.
I paused outside with a sudden trepidation—scared and aware that whatever happened it’d most likely change everything for me.
I’m here. Kanaan went around me and entered.
No matter what, the skull belonged here. Of that I was certain. I stooped to a crouch and taking his outstretched hand, followed him.
Once inside, the chime went away and my mind was my own. I felt a barrier of sorts and sensed that no one’s thoughts were open to me and no one—like Allohak— could read mine. I had no doubt that it was the work of the green and blue stones strung outside.
The other two Ute elders—Sawaich and Miquin—sat around a small central fire with Honaw and passed an alabaster smoking pipe among themselves. They made room for Allohak, Kanaan, and me.
The pipe was passed to Kanaan. Kanaan puffed lightly and passed it to me. I declined with a polite “no, thank you” and passed it to Allohak.
“Honaw says you have something to show us.” Sawaich spoke with his usual soft voice. There was no hint of animosity from our confrontation at the Bluff House.
I nodded and untied the bag. Slowly, I pushed the bag down off the skull. All three of the elders’ eyes grew huge with awe. They knew what it was.
Allohak recovered first, his voice soft with reverence. “Where did you find this?” His eyes never left the skull.
“Below here in Garden of the Gods,” I said.
He nodded as though it made perfect sense. “The sacred grounds of the Manitou.” He passed the pipe to Miquin who laid it gently on a hand-carved pipe tray.
“May I?” Allohak asked with an outstretched hand.
I lifted the bag and let him take it out.
“Can you explain what it is?” I said.
He nodded while examining the skull. “This is a bone that will never die.” Allohak handled it with intense deference. “The Ute are the original peoples of Earth. The Nuutsiu,” he told us. “Created by our mothers who came from the sky. We lived as the Manitou taught us, following the animals and the trails of food Earth provided. Then, our mothers left and went away back into the sky.”
“Aliens?” I wasn’t buying the mythical story.
“Patience, my sister,” Allohak scolded me. “You must know the beginning before you can understand the ending.” He held the skull up as if to emphasis the word “ending.”
“We lived the right way.” He raised an index finger. “All the Shoshonean people made babies and populated the world as the Manitou instructed. But some of our descendants, those far from the roots of the ancestral tree, went to other parts of Earth and became corrupt. The Manitou erased the people from Earth many times. Each time they allowed the pure, the Nuutsiu, to start over.”
It was the typical creation and Noah’s ark type stories that many cultures had.
Anger twisted his face. “Each time the Manitou returned from the sky to inspect the home they made for us, they cried. Each time, they mourned humankind for the atrocities we inflict on all creatures.” Allohak bowed his head. “Some of them took pity on us. They came to Earth and lived among us to teach us again and again how to be pure.” Allohak held the skull up high. “And some of them died here.”
“Wait?” I interrupted and pointed at the skull. “You’re saying that this is the skull of a dead god?”
Allohak squinted at me. “You don’t believe?”
A week ago, I would’ve laughed and shook my head no. I shrugged at Allohak’s question, no longer certain of anything.
The elder reached for a knife from the pipe tray. With the blade, he scraped a big chunk off the back of the skull. The skull sparkled and healed itself, just as always. Allohak had watched my reaction and expected amazement from me.
I shrugged. “Seen it.”
“Wray,” Kanaan whispered an admonishment.
Allohak kept his now smiling eyes on me and tossed the entire skull into the fire.
Aghast, Honaw made a lunge to fish it out, but Sawaich held his arm across Honaw’s chest to prevent him from doing so.
The skull didn’t char or burn. Instead the opalescent sheen on the skull radiated its rainbow of colors into the fire. In a sudden burst, a bright-white light erupted from it. The beam of light spiraled around the skull and then up from the fire into the peak of the tipi where it straightened up and—like a Hollywood spotlight—sent a shaft of light out through the smoke flap into the dark Colorado sky.
“Holy—” Kanaan’s whispered shock died on his dropped jaw.
I couldn’t breathe for my own shock. Outside, the drums stopped. Through the skin walls of the tipi, we heard the collective awe from the gathered Utes.
When an even brighter, but narrower, shaft of light traveled down inside the broader one, I almost jumped out of my skin. The narrow light hit the skull and expanded. Inside that inner shaft of light was a face. With a high forehead and gorgeous round eyes, the white face turned around and around to look at everyone who sat at the fire.
When it blinked and the mouth started moving, my first thought was to run—run out of the tipi and away from the powwow. But Allohak held fast to my arm, not that I could move anyway. My muscles were in dumbfounded shock from what I was seeing.
“Who calls the divinities?” asked the most feminine voice I’d ever heard. “Tell me who you are.” The voice was demanding, but soft and nonthreatening. When the face got to me, it stopped scanning. And I realized she looked familiar. She was an older version of the woman in my dreams. The face tilted sideways in what looked like mutual recognition and smiled.
“Oh. You’re ready.” She smiled and nodded deeply, like a bow. “I will come at once.”
With that, the inner light condensed into a narrow stream and shot back up through the tipi, returning to wherever it came from. A few milliseconds later, the beam of light emanating from the skull retracted from the sky. Through smoke flap to the skull, the light fell with such a wind-like intensity that it completely snuffed the fire.
There had been no smoke. Nevertheless, the wood around the skull was reduced to a fine ash as though it had been superheated and pulverized. The skull, on the other hand, was unchanged and undamaged.
My brain regained its ability to communicate with the rest of my body. Finally able to use my muscles, I got to my shaky feet and stumbled out of the tipi. I stopped just outside. There the people stood and stared wide-eyed at me. Kanaan was right behind me, his breathing coming as fast as mine.
“Did that lady just say she was coming?” he asked breathless.
“Yeah.” I shivered. “For me.”
As a soft chime rang in my head, a wall of Ute faced me.
Uncle Jun, Mr. Bell, Kai, Amaya, Mary, and all the others stared speechlessly at me. I felt their apprehension, individually and collectively. Only MawMaw and Mrs. Bell weren’t scared. MawMaw had a confident, trusting smile on her face. Mrs. Bell stared with bold curiosity.
Kanaan stood beside me holding my hand. Though breathing hard, too, from the shock of what we just saw, I sensed—heard in my mind—that he wasn’t afraid of me.
Your eyes, he warned.
I turned from the Utes and Kanaan. Certain I was going to puke, I hunched over. Kanaan rubbed my back.
Breathe. I heard woo-woo MawMaw instruct. But the dry heaves made that impossible. Wray, listen to me. Her voice was louder, but less assured. You must breathe.
I closed my eyes to concentrate on my lungs. Shallow breaths were all I could manage at first. By the sixth inhale, I was going deeper than ever. It wasn’t enough.
Deeper.
I did as she commanded, inhaling so deep my abdomen expanded like a balloon. Still, my eyes burned, and I couldn’t calm myself.
Allohak appeared beside me holding the skull. “Stand up,” he ordered.
Certain that my eyes glowed a gold that matched his glittering gray ones, I straightened as much as I could.
“Do not be afraid. She recognized you,” he said softly.
That was exactly what scared me. It was then that Allohak put the skull to my chest, demanding I take it.
“No!” I pushed his arms away and tried to step away. “No, no, no, no. I don’t want it!”
“It is yours. It is your heritage,” he said. Protect it and it will protect you.
Chapter 27
Sawaich motioned to the drummers to begin again. When the beat started, he and Miquin began to dance a circle around me. The elders drew others into the dance, then lead the tribe back to the powwow center, leaving just Allohak, MawMaw, Uncle Jun, the Bells, Kanaan, and Honaw with me. Their thoughts and emotions pushed at me hard. The deluge negated the soothing sounds of the chime.
Stepping forward, woo-woo MawMaw clasped her hands together. Tilting her head in adoration, her smile broadened, and she nodded with wisdom that only a crazy person could have. “You see now, don’t you?”
I backed away from her and shook my head no that I didn’t see at all. A panic so dark and dense settled hard around me. I really wanted my parents. I wanted their security. I wanted my life back to normal—my normal, quirks and all.
Kanaan rubbed my shoulders, his vibe trying to shore up my confidence. But it didn’t work. My breathing became a pant.
“Don’t worry! Wray, don’t worry.” Kai sobbed. He sprinted to me and wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight hug. “You saved me. You can’t worry, because you saved me.”
Mr. Bell cocked his head sideways. “What do you mean she saved you?”
Amaya, tears in her eyes, stepped to me. “It was this”—she polished the skull in Allohak’s arms with her bare hand—“Wray’s skull that cured Kai.” She wrapped her arms around Kai and me in a group hug.
/> Neither shocked nor scared, Mrs. Bell fiddled with her green-beaded necklace and moved her eternally angry attention from the skull to MawMaw. “I knew it! Your family had the cure.” Her bitter tone was laced with blame.
Mr. Bell was in front of me in three enormous steps. He cradled his son’s head with one hand. “Thank you, Wray.” His tone the opposite of his wife’s. “Thank you so much.” He finished in a whisper and wiped the tears from his cheek.
“Well.” Honaw wiped his eyes. “Let’s all cry a river.”
Everyone giggled just a little—except me. They were all crazy. My panting flattened, got too shallow. I couldn’t breathe. I twisted out of the embrace of everyone and stumbled backward a couple of steps.
Farther away from the tipi, chatter and consciousnesses from the powwow bombarded me. Even the sound of the drums magnified through them.
But the far-off airplane noise cut through it all. It started as a low base hum—a signal that a time freeze was coming long before my ears popped.
Gently, Allohak again put the skull to my torso. His hands over mine, he took my bare arms and made me wrap them around it.
And the agony was instant. Light, brighter than what I’d seen in the tipi, burned my brain.
My ears popped and my scream pierced through the drumming. Flashes of another landscape blitzed like an old-time movie in my mind.
“Nooooo.” Like a shot put, I flung the skull away from me.
Vaguely I recall Amaya scooping it up, vaguely recall hands reaching for me—all in slowing time.
Oh, but I could move normally. I spun and darted into the trees behind the elders’ tipi. My intention was to circle around the clearing unseen. If I made it to the trail, I’d be home free.
“Wraaaay!” Kanaan’s voice was in deep slo-mo, his footsteps plodded somewhere behind me.
Leave me alone! Just leave me alone! That’s when the drumming abruptly stopped.
Behind me, I heard a thud followed by Kanaan’s moan of pain. I slowed to look over my shoulder. There he was, on the ground, grimacing and holding his ears. His suffering stopped me in my tracks.
Beyond him, through the trees into the clearing, every single person at the powwow lay on the ground with their hands over their ears—just like Kanaan.
