Rider on Fire

by Sharon Sala

  “Oh no!” Sonora gasped, and flinched as the man flew up into the air and then came down on his back. It was instinct that had her reaching for the door handle when Adam grabbed her arm.

  “No, honey. Police are already on the scene, as are a couple of ambulances. If you get involved, then you’ll have to identify yourself, and that might not be such a good idea.”

  She sighed, then let go of the door.

  “You’re right. I just wasn’t thinking.”

  At that point, traffic started to move. Sonora stared out the window at the injured man, and winced. She could see blood coming out of his nose and ears, which was never a good sign. Head injuries were tricky. She hoped that he would be all right.

  * * *

  Lunch had come and gone a few days later, and Franklin was sitting in his favorite chair out on the back porch, watching a pair of bluebirds taking turns feeding the babies in their nest. In the middle of his meditation, he heard the phone ring. Frowning, he started to get up, then remembered Sonora was inside and sat back down.

  The male bluebird seemed to be on watch duty as his mate darted from the nest up in the branches to the ground below, then back up again. He could just see the edge of the nest and the open beaks of her three babies, begging for whatever it was she brought back. It pleased him to see these tiny moments with Mother Earth and her children, and wouldn’t let himself dwell on the fact that one day he would be gone and life would go on without him.

  Sonora hadn’t spoken one word about the bone marrow testing since her return from Tulsa, and he hadn’t asked her. He knew she was scared. He also knew that she feared she would fail him. He didn’t have the words to comfort her, because the truth was, for the first time in months, he had hope and it was because of her. In the beginning, even though he didn’t want to die, he’d come to terms with it. But now that he knew he had a daughter, his acceptance of death had done a one-eighty change. Truth was, he didn’t want to leave her or this earth.

  The screen door opened behind him. He heard the hinges squeak, then the loud pop as it slammed shut. He turned around. Sonora was coming toward him, and she was crying.

  His stomach rolled. Something terrible must have happened.

  In a panic, he stood up and started toward her, then she started to laugh through her tears.

  “Dad … I’m a match! Your doctor wants you in the hospital tomorrow before noon. Says they have to prepare you for the transplant … whatever that means.”

  Franklin was taken aback, both by the news and the suddenness. He’d been going to take Sonora and Adam to the pow-wow. Obviously, that was going to have to wait.

  He wanted to laugh, to dance, to clap his hands and run in circles. Instead, he took her by the shoulders.

  “It will not be pleasant. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely positive,” she said.

  It was then that he laughed. “This is, indeed, the most wonderful news.”

  Sonora wrapped her arms around his waist. “It’s going to work. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Franklin silently agreed. Considering the power that was within his daughter, he had no doubt that her healthy blood cells would not only heal him, but make him as good as new.

  “Little woman of the snake,” Franklin whispered.

  Sonora heard and shivered. She hadn’t considered the significance of her snake and the Kiowa beliefs in power and healing, but it was obvious Franklin did. She didn’t care what they believed as long as her father got well.

  “Do you mind if I leave for a bit? I want to tell Adam, but not over the phone.”

  “Of course, but you’re welcome to take my car.”

  “Thanks, but I have a need to feel the wind in my hair.”

  Franklin eyed the dark wings of hair framing her face and recognized the restlessness of her spirit.

  “Ride safely,” he said.

  She nodded, absently, then looked up at Franklin. “Do you think he’ll come with us tomorrow?”

  “I think wild horses couldn’t keep him away,” Franklin said.

  * * *

  Adam had just returned home after a visit to an elderly couple from the tribe. Daisy, the wife, had a bad case of poison ivy from gathering mushrooms. While it was rare that Native American people contracted poison ivy, it did happen. The entire time he was treating her, she kept blaming her grandmother’s predilection for sleeping with white men as the reason she had succumbed to the rash.

  In her own words, “Indians don’t get poison ivy. It’s the taint of white man’s blood that weakens my body.”

  Adam knew she was miserable, and that her opinion of white people was normally just fine. But it was the itching and swelling all over her face and arms that had her in such a bad mood. He’d left her with salve and kind words, and a suggestion to her husband to do the cooking for a while so Daisy wouldn’t be exposed to the heat.

  He’d been in the house long enough to put up his bag of salves when he heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle coming down the drive. He spun toward the sound.

  Sonora!

  He went out to the porch. The sound was getting louder. Within moments he saw her flying toward him, barely outrunning the cloud of red dust behind her.

  * * *

  Sonora’s heart jumped when she came around the bend in the road and saw Adam waiting for her out on the porch. She couldn’t wait to tell him—to see the joy in his eyes. She rode into the yard and then stopped abruptly, turning the bike in a quick half-circle before dropping the kickstand and killing the engine. She hung her helmet on the handlebars then dismounted quickly, unaware of Adam’s silent admiration.

  “What a nice surprise!” Adam said, as he met her at the steps.

  “You have no idea,” Sonora said. “I have news. Good news. I’m a perfect match to be Dad’s donor.”

  Adam grinned and picked her up in his arms and gave her a ferocious hug.

  Sonora laughed when he turned them both in a circle, then did a little two-step.

  “That’s phenomenal!” he cried. “Come in. Come in. Tell me what the doctor said.”

  She followed him inside, then into the kitchen. She began to talk as he poured them both cold drinks. “I have to have Dad there in the morning before noon. The doctor said there are some things that must be done before surgery can occur. Something about isolation and irradiating him. They have to kill his bad cells and his good cells, too, before replacing them with some of mine, or something like that. I was just so excited at the news that only parts of it soaked in.”

  Adam handed her a glass of cold Pepsi, then sat down at the table across from her.

  “Yes, I’m familiar with it. All of that must be done before they put your healthy bone marrow into his body.”

  “Yes … that’s it,” Sonora said.

  “Would you let me drive the both of you back to Tulsa?”

  Sonora smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Adam reached across the table and took her hand. “We’re in this together, okay?”

  The smile on her face disappeared as she nodded and looked away.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Adam asked.

  She hesitated, then made herself look up. He was always honest with her. She could do no less.

  “No. Quite the opposite.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve never been part of a ‘we’. It’s always been a ‘me’, and I’m not complaining. It just touches me, that’s all.”

  Adam’s heart tugged. Over and over, he was struck by the loneliness that had been her life until now. Even though he was moved, knowing that she valued his presence in her life, he wanted her happy, not constantly reminded of her past.

  “So … you like being touched, do you?” He pulled on her fingers, spreading them wide, then threading his fingers through hers. “I’d be happy to oblige with more touching—in private.”

  Sonora grinned. “Subtlety is not one of your stro
ng suits, is it?”

  Adam pretended dismay. “Ah, lady … you wound me by doubting my intentions.”

  “Your intentions weren’t to get me in bed?”

  “Well … yes … but you would have enjoyed it, too.”

  This time when she laughed out loud, he grinned.

  CHAPTER 15

  Franklin’s pulse was rapid. He knew it. The nurse knew it and gave him a studied look, as if trying to judge the reason.

  “When did you take your last dose of medicine, Mr. Blue Cat?”

  “This morning, as directed.”

  She nodded and made a note.

  “Once we start the irradiating process, you will be in isolation, and will continue to be isolated after the transplant until you are released.”

  “Yes, I am aware of the restrictions,” Franklin said. “However, the possibility of being cured far outweighs the aggravation.”

  She smiled. “Yes, sir. You are so right.”

  “May I see my daughter now?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll send her in.”

  Franklin leaned back in the bed, grateful for a few moments of respite. The trip had been wearing, and the hustle and fuss of getting admitted, then changing out of his clothes and into hospital clothes, as well as all the lab work that occurs upon admission had tired him.

  He hadn’t expected to be reluctant to leave home, but once the time had come, he realized there was a chance he might never come back. Surgery was a chancy thing at best, and Franklin was not at his best. He had accepted the possibility of not waking up once the transplant began, but still had pangs of sadness as he locked the door to his home and then left. However, once they’d begun the journey, his attitude had changed to one of hope. Now all he had to do was maintain positive thinking and trust the process.

  His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady when he felt a touch on his hand. He looked up, then he smiled.

  “Hello, Daughter.”

  Sonora leaned over the bed and hugged, then kissed her father.

  “I don’t want you to stay alone at the house,” he said.

  “Of course, I will. There’s nothing—”

  His fingers curled around her wrist.

  “Please. Adam already suggested it and I completely agree. Your situation is not a normal one and you know it. How can I rest and heal knowing your life might be in danger? Besides, within a few days the surgery will happen and you do not need to try and heal from your part of it all alone.”

  Sonora hadn’t thought this far ahead, but obviously Franklin and Adam had.

  “All right, Dad. I promise.”

  “Good,” he said, and when she would have pulled away, he still held her. “There’s something else you need to know. I have changed my will. You are my sole heir. Even if I don’t survive this illness, you still belong to the tribe and to our land.”

  Sonora’s eyes teared. “I don’t want to talk about—”

  “I don’t, either, but one must face the inevitability of mortality. No one lives forever.”

  Sonora pulled up a chair and sat down, then leaned forward and laid her head on the bed near where Franklin lay. He reached for her, laying his hand on her head. They stayed that way until finally a nurse returned. After that, the visits were over.

  “I’ll see you in surgery,” Franklin said.

  “Count on it,” Sonora said, and gave him a big thumbs up and a smile as she left.

  She made it all the way down the hall to the waiting room, but when she saw Adam’s face, she began to cry. He went to her, comforting her as best he could, but there was little he could do. Right now, everything was out of their hands.

  * * *

  Just twelve doors down the hall was Miguel Garcia. He’d been in a coma in Intensive Care ever since he’d been brought to St. Francis. His head injury had been severe, resulting in a considerable amount of swelling on his brain. For a few days it had been touch and go, but somewhere around midnight last night, he had started to turn a corner. He’d quit struggling for breath and had shown signs of increased brain activity. Garcia woke up slowly, uncertain of where he was or how he’d gotten there. The nurse who was checking his vitals noticed that he was coming around and quickly rang for the doctor.

  Miguel groaned.

  The nurse moved to his side. “Mr. Trujillio, don’t move, okay?”

  He groaned again. Who the hell was Trujillio?

  “You’re in a hospital. You were hit by a man on a motorcycle. Do you remember?”

  Images came and went so fast he couldn’t assimilate. He was in an English-speaking hospital, which meant he must be in the States, but he couldn’t remember why or how he got here. He wanted to tell the nurse to call his brothers, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Moments later, a doctor strode into the room, but it was too late for questions. Miguel was out again.

  * * *

  Adam stopped by Franklin Blue Cat’s home long enough for Sonora to pack her belongings. She didn’t have much and it didn’t take her long, but as she was going through the house to make sure everything was turned off and locked up, she saw the carving of her kitten and put it inside her bag.

  “I think I have everything,” Sonora said, as she walked back into the living room where Adam waited. He’d already loaded her Harley into the back of his truck, and there was nothing to do now but leave.

  “If not, you’re welcome to anything that’s mine,” he said.

  Sonora nodded as she started toward the door.

  Suddenly, the room tilted and disappeared. The strap on her bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor, but she didn’t hear it, or Adam’s sudden call of concern.

  She was alone and in the dark and she didn’t know what was wrong with her, but knew she was either sick or injured. She was weak and frightened, and at a level she’d never known. The air was filled with the sound of gourd rattles, from behind her—in front of her—on both sides of her—and there were voices. She’d never heard the voices before. They were speaking in a language she’d never heard, and yet somehow, she knew what was being said.

  This was a warning of danger. Not imminent, but danger still the same.

  Then just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. When she would have staggered backward, Adam caught her. The moment she felt his arms around her, she went weak.

  “Sonora … what the hell just happened to you? Are you ill?”

  “Just like before,” she muttered, and covered her face with her hands.

  Adam grabbed her hands and pulled them away. “Look at me!” he said.

  She moaned. “Sonora! Talk to me, damn it! What do you mean, just like before?”

  She shuddered as she made herself focus. “It was some kind of … hallucination. I’ve been having them since the day the Garcia arrests went bust.”

  “It’s not a hallucination … it’s a vision. Tell me what you saw.”

  “Lord … I’m not sure what I saw and what’s part of my imagination.”

  “Just talk to me,” Adam said.

  “Everything was dark. I was weak, either from an injury or illness, I couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t myself. I didn’t see anything, but I knew I wasn’t alone. Then the rattles started. The sound was all around me, and out of that, I heard voices, only they weren’t speaking in English. It was a language I didn’t understand, but I knew what they were telling me.”

  Despite the fact that Adam completely believed in what she was saying, it was unsettling to know what she was going through.

  “You said, they. There was more than one voice?”

  She frowned. “I didn’t realize it until you just pointed it out, but, yes, there was more than one voice, only they were telling me the same thing.”

  “The Old Ones,” Adam muttered, more to himself than to her. “You said you knew what they were saying?”

  “Sort of. I can’t explain it, but somehow I did.”

  “What was it, honey? What were they telling you?”

&n
bsp; “That my life is in danger—not imminent, but it’s coming and I must be prepared.”

  Adam grabbed the bag that she dropped and then took her by the hand. “Come on. We’re leaving now.”

  “What’s the hurry?” she said. “I told you that the danger wasn’t imminent … or at least I don’t think so.”

  “I want to get you settled and then put you in protection.”

  “I’m not going to be locked up, so don’t even go there,” she said.

  “I’m not talking about walls you can see.”

  In the back of her mind, she heard one last, distant rattle, as if reminding her to heed. She shivered.

  “What kind of protection are you talking about then … some spell like the one you say brought me here?”

  “I’m not talking about anything. Just get in the truck,” he said shortly.

  She did.

  * * *

  Miguel Garcia had been suffering from a fever for the past two days. His sleep had been restless and broken, and when he did sleep, his dreams were crazy and disjointed. But the evening Franklin Blue Cat had been admitted to the hospital to begin the process that might give him a new chance at life, Garcia woke from his sleep with a cry of dismay. The fever had broken, and so had his heart. He’d dreamed his brother Juanito was dead, and when he woke, remembered that it wasn’t a dream.

  On the heels of that revelation, he also remembered why he was in the States.

  Sonora Jordan.

  He’d seen her.

  She’d been right within his reach and then the accident had happened. Once again, bad things had come to him because of her. Without thinking of the consequences, he sat up and started to swing his legs off the bed. It was fortunate for Miguel that the nurses always kept the guard rails up because the moment his head came off the pillow and he tried to sit up, he had no sense of balance.

  His upper body lolled sideways, then slid at an angle off the side of the bed. Pain lanced through his shoulders and up the back of his head. He was trying to grab hold of the guard rail when the door to his room flew open. Two nurses grabbed him just before he fell over the side of the bed.

  “Get his arms!” one of the nurses shouted, as she rang for more help.

  Before Miguel knew what was happening, he was flat on his back in the bed with his arms strapped down.