Ahote nodded at Lance, who continued to the dining hall.
“James,” Dr. Parker said, “Why don’t you grab a bite to eat. You can catch up to us at the stables?”
James nodded and headed to the Dining Hall. Chantal saw her opportunity and hurried after him.
Maya tried to catch up with her. "What did Lance say to Ahote? I couldn't understand."
Chantal's eyes were fixated on James. She filed in line at the buffet behind him. "They speak the Hopi language. They don’t want anyone to understand.” She watched him scoop scrambled eggs and then she scooped some. He skipped over the French toast and she did too. James picked up a scone; Chantal followed suit.
Maya rolled her eyes. "You're copying him."
"Shhh! No, I'm not. I love scrambled eggs and scones."
"Since when?"
"Like three minutes ago. Hush."
Warren and Roy motioned for James to come sit by them.
Chantal boldly took her tray to their table and sat next to James.
Maya hesitated for a moment and sat beside Chantal, across from Warren. She felt shy suddenly, even after their walk in the riverbed.
"Hi, bro," Chantal said in a high-pitched voice. She was trying to play cool but did a poor job.
Roy raised an eyebrow at her.
She giggled nervously.
"So, James, your uncle is teaching you about archaeology, right?" Warren asked. His bicep bulged as he lifted the fork to his mouth.
Maya felt relieved that Warren had a way of being natural and welcoming.
"Yes. He specializes in hieroglyphics, pictographs, and petroglyphs,” James said.
His accent had Chantal fangirling.
“What do you find to be the most interesting aspects of what he does?”
“He's been to Egyptian tombs that were sealed with a curse that was written in hieroglyphic symbols.” James unfolded a napkin and put in in his lap. “It warned robbers of their doom if they stole anything.”
"Does your uncle believe in curses?" asked Roy.
"No," James replied with a laugh. "No, he doesn't."
"What's the difference between pictographs and petroglyphs?" Warren asked.
"Pictographs are a sign or symbol painted or drawn on a rock wall, or the like, by ancient or prehistoric people.” James took a bite of breakfast. “Petroglyphs are prehistoric carvings in rock faces.”
Maya didn’t like the sound of it after her talk with Chantal and Ahote about protecting their secret. “Why so interested?”
“We're looking for undiscovered writings,” James said. “Anything that might give us a clue to the rumored seven cities of gold. Particularly, the City of Cibola of Spanish legend.”
Maya and Chantal exchanged glances. This wasn’t good news.
“What makes you think the caves could have anything exciting?” Chantal asked.
“Well, that’s where many cultures have hidden things.” He leaned toward Chantal, looking her in the eye. “Take the Dead Sea Scrolls, for example. There were over eight hundred of them found in caves, and they were over 2000 years old, completely undisturbed for thousands of years.”
Chantal forgot to breathe while he was talking to her. Maya nudged her.
Warren made a fist and coughed into it with a smirk. “There’s no written language for the Pueblo people.”
“Correction, there is no known written language of the Pueblo people.” James smiled. “There were rumors of tablets of the seven cities. Francisco Vasquez de Coronado went looking for the cities in 1540 and didn’t turn up anything but adobe towns. This led him to believe he’d been lied to, but think about it, if there were cities of gold they would have kept it hidden, not in the open where it could have been pillaged.”
Warren shrugged. “I suppose.”
“My uncle believes it’s hidden somewhere near here, maybe to the west?" James said.
Warren took a sip from his cup. "The city of Cibola is a myth, but you can search all you want. You'll never find it."
James shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. There are new discoveries made daily in other places of the world.”
"Searching the land to the west is against Ahote’s rules," Maya added, hoping to squash his plans.
James shifted in his seat. "Did I say the west? I meant the east."
Maya narrowed her eyes.
"What else have you learned?" Chantal asked, hanging on his every word.
"A bit about pictographs and how you put them together to understand their meaning. My uncle has an interest in the ones the Anasazi may have created. Many petroglyphs and pictographs have already been discovered. But my uncle wants to prove that there's something the Indian culture is hiding."
"You mean Native American?" Warren corrected, glaring at him.
They met eyes. James shifted in his seat. "Excuse me. Thanks for correcting me."
"In your own words, James, who are the Anasazi?" Chantal asked. Maya wondered if she just wanted to keep him talking.
"They were the ancestors to the Pueblo Indians. Excuse me, people. They lived between A.D. 200 and A.D. 1300 and they made a lot of cliff dwellings in the Four Corners area. They were amazing for their time.” He pierced his French toast with his fork. “There's got to be more to the story."
"Like what?" asked Warren, laughing.
"Like a key to something much bigger. An undiscovered, vacated ruin full of gold, perhaps. If we can find more writings, my uncle might be able to decode it."
Warren arched an eyebrow. "Maybe a trip to the Four Corners will satisfy your uncle's craving for ancient Anasazi dwellings. It's open for the public."
James rolled his eyes. "We've already been there. The dwellings at the Four Corners aren't even half as big as what we're hoping to find. We’re here to explore and discover new things, not sightsee. We might go spelunking in the caves."
Warren leaned back and laughed with a hint of agitation. "It isn't your land to go snooping on.”
"Well, it isn't your’s either," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "It belongs to the government. The artifacts can fetch a fair price.”
“Well, it isn’t ethical,” Warren said, leaning forward. “Usually things they find are buried with the dead. Our people believed those things were for them to use in the afterlife."
James shrugged. “We all know that’s a superstition. When you’re dead you’re buried and gone. There’s no afterlife.”
Warren sat back against his chair, staring at James. For a moment, Maya thought Warren might jump over the table to strangle him, "I don’t believe it’s superstition. I believe in the old ways.”
“Whoa,” James said, putting a hand up. “I didn’t know this was such a heated subject. Besides, you’re sure there’s nothing for us to find, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. Right?”
Warren clenched his teeth. “If you won’t stay away from the caves for ethical reasons you should consider how dangerous they are. People go into caves and sometimes never find their way out. It’s so dark you can’t see the outline of your hand in front of your own face. People who have gotten lost in caves longer than twelve hours experience visual and auditory hallucinations because the mind tries to make up for the lack of sensory input."
Maya felt the tension between the two of them rise. She knew Warren was thinking of his lost mother as he spoke, and she wished she could comfort him.
“No disrespect,” James said, trying to deflate the situation. “I appreciate your concern, but my uncle's no stranger to caves. He has all of the equipment so if he does decide to explore them, there won’t be anything to worry about."
“Wow,” Roy said, changing the subject, “These scrambled eggs are the best, don’t you think so, Maya?”
“Mmm, they’re great,” she agreed, playing along.
Maya thought back to the creation legend Ahote had told her. She had already been piecing together the puzzle between that, and what Warren had mentioned during their walk in the riverbed. The Underworld was s
omewhere in the Grand Canyon. It was full of cursed bats and Kachinas, and it was in a cave that you couldn’t just stumble into. Wherever it was, it wasn’t easy to find. Even if Dr. Parker and James were on the hunt for it, they would probably never come across it. No need to worry.
13. The Valley of Hoodoos
When Maya arrived at the stables later that morning the horses were saddled and waiting for their riders in the fenced in area around it. Paris was sitting on one of the horses wearing jean shorts and a coral top with open shoulders. Her hair was in a French braid, and she held her head high. A heaviness like a rock sank into Maya’s stomach.
"Hi," Paris said with a smile.
Maya almost let her jaw drop at her sudden friendliness but stopped herself, putting her hands in her pockets and raising her chin with confidence. "Hi."
"I wasn't talking to you." Her gaze went straight through Maya, as if she were transparent. Chantal ran from behind Maya to Paris's side with a smoothie from the kitchen.
Maya frowned, kicking her shoe in the sand.
"Ready to go?" asked Chantal as she mounted Ancient Orange who was nearby.
"Of course. Uh, is she coming too?" Paris asked, referring to Maya but not looking at her.
Maya hung her head.
"Yes, she's coming too." Chantal either didn’t notice Paris’s condescending tone or didn’t care.
Paris gave an unenthusiastic nod.
Maya grabbed an apple from her pocket, one she'd snatched from the Dining Hall, and headed towards Fearless. When he saw her coming, he turned to greet her, grunting. She held the juicy, red apple out, and he smacked his lips around it. He crunched loudly, swallowing it two bites. He looked to her for more.
"Sorry, boy. All gone." She ruffled his ears and gazed into his big brown eyes. "At least you're my friend."
Warren poked his head out from the stables. She hadn’t noticed him and Roy working.
"Hi, sunshine," Warren said, holding onto a rake, and leaning against the threshold. Wearing only a pair of shorts and boots.
She blushed. "Oh, hi. I didn't see you two over there."
"Don't pay attention to her." He said, referring to Paris. He came out of the stables and stood next to her, patting Fearless's nose. "This is the best horse we have, huh Fearless? He'll keep you company." He brushed some strands of hair out of Maya’s face. "I have the perfect headband to keep your hair out of your eyes. It would look beautiful on you." He strode back to the hut and came back with a threaded head wrap; he tied it around the crown of her head.
"It's lovely.” The small token made her feel special.
He held her hand and looked into her eyes. "I couldn't stop thinking about our talk at the river the other day, and how I wish I would have..."
She tilted her head. "How you wish you would have... what?"
He looked away, shaking his head. She moved closer to him, grabbing his hands and trying to look into his eyes. He stopped and met her gaze, which made her knees weak.
He placed one hand on her shoulder, edging closer to her, lowering his voice. "Told you... how you captivate me with how gentle and humble you are, in your gestures, your words, and eyes."
She could have melted.
"What the–" Roy said from inside the stables.
They turned toward him.
"I'm not doing this work by myself!" Roy was red in the face. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were angry.
"Roy!" Maya scratched the back of her head and tried to distract him. "You look worn out. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"No, I’m rooming with him,” He said, pointing to Warren. “He tosses and turns and goes to the restroom about seven times a night. Don't change the subject. Warren, I need a word alone with my sister."
Warren reluctantly lifted his hands off Maya, giving her a longing gaze and walked back into the stables.
"You're embarrassing!" she whispered through clenched teeth.
"You're a long way from home with only me to watch after you. Could you imagine what life would be like if you wound up with a guy like him?" He put his hands on his hips.
"Yeah, it would be pretty sweet. We get each other. I really like him, so don't mess this up for me." She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're fifteen!" he said, as if she were not aware.
"Yeah... well…" She looked to the sky for a moment, then back to her brother. "Paris is only fifteen and you like her, exchanging snap chats and holding hands."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Ok, you're right, but Paris is experienced and mature. She's not losing anything by dating me."
She furrowed her brow and threw her head back, eyes flashing. "That's debatable. I'm not mature enough, right?"
"Maya, you're like a child, and if you don't keep a safe distance from him I'll tell Aunt Roslyn to send him back to the reservation for the rest of the summer."
She gasped. "You wouldn't. You can't!" Her eyes darted around as she considered whether it was even in Aunt Roslyn's power.
"You'd better hurry or you'll be late for your riding lesson." He snatched the towel hanging from his back pocket and dabbed the sweat off his forehead as he walked away.
She picked up a rock and aimed it at him but changed her mind and dropped it.
Maya saw the other riders preparing to get on the trail. Dr. Parker and James were among them. Chantal and Paris laughed together, hanging back from the crowd, just on the other side of the fence.
Maya placed one foot into the stirrup and the other over the saddle. Before realizing she was off balance, she tilted backward and plummeted into the sand, her foot still stuck in the stirrup. A cloud of dust swirled over her head.
Snickering sounded from behind her. Maya rolled onto her belly.
"Good one!" Paris smirked at her.
Chantal got down from her horse, hopped the fence, and came to her assistance. "It's okay. Lance did the exact same thing two weeks ago, except he split his pants… in front of five of my friends."
Chantal untangled Maya's shoe from the stirrup and helped her up. "I'll give you a boost." She cupped her hands into a step.
Paris looked into Maya's eyes and her lips formed the word "loser" while Chantal's back was turned.
Maya scrunched her nose. "No thanks, Chantal. I can do this. I'm not a child," Maya stuck her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself onto Fearless's back, holding her head high.
"I never said you were." Chantal rolled her eyes and went back to mount her horse.
"Now I see the resemblance between you and Lance," Paris said.
"I could eat alphabet soup and crap out a better insult than that," Maya said.
"Ha-ha. I've known that one since preschool. Don't you have any new jokes?"
"You don't like my jokes? I'm so sorry to disappoint. I live to make you happy," she said sarcastically. "Oh! My brother was talking about you," she lied.
Secrets of the Anasazi Page 11
