Nick pulled the ashes out of his backpack and set the small urn between them. There were still a few hikers and campers milling about below them, but the crowd was thinning, people headed back to a campfire and dinner, kids worn out and finally settling down, marshmallows coming out.
“Yeah, they would have loved this, knowing we were together here, actually both living in the moment, remembering them. After Mom passed, I asked Dad why he had her cremated, why he couldn’t just bury her like everyone else did, so we would have a specific physical place to go to remember her. He said, ‘There are seven billion people alive out there in the world today, plus all those who have ever lived, and all those yet to be born. What will happen if we have to make space to bury them all? We came from this earth, your Mother and I want to go back to it, and if you scatter our ashes in the wind in our favorite places, we will always be there for you, and perhaps everywhere else too. We’re all just stardust, who could ask for more?’”
They slowly drained their beers, each lost in his own thoughts, letting the sun settle a little lower on the horizon in back of them. Finally deciding it was time, Charlie got up first, dusted himself off, and reached in his backpack. Nick grabbed the urn and walked to the edge of the plateau. Charlie ambled over behind him, with a small flask in each hand. He gave one to Nick, who slowly rubbed a finger over the engraving.
Albert, Josephine, Charles, Nicholas
Family is nature’s truest masterpiece.
“Thanks man, this means everything to me,” Nick said, genuinely and deeply touched by the gesture. They each opened their flask and took a sip, then held it out in a silent salute. Charlie, as the older brother, felt obliged to say something fitting. He started, but with tears welling could only stammer, “There are no words.”
Nick looked him directly in the eye, and said in a steady voice, “You’re right, and all worth saying has already been said. The lives they led said it all.”
With that he opened the urn and heaved the ashes into the wind, which grabbed them in an updraft and swirled them away, out over Pueblo Bonito, out farther and farther into Chaco Canyon, the sun setting behind them, reflecting ever so briefly off the windswept pieces of stardust.
Chapter 16 – June 21
The desert sky put on a show the prior evening that had been ethereal, the view crystal clear with no ambient light, bands of the Milky Way galaxy distinctly visible, punctuated by the occasional shooting star. Sitting out on the plateau by themselves, it was one of those nights Nick and Charlie could almost perceive the earth slowly turning underneath them, a sense of awe and wonder about their place in the vastness of the universe washing over them. The conversation had been lighthearted, the mood buoyant, a weight lifted off their collective shoulders. Lives had ended, but life would go on.
The night had passed with no incidences, the brothers sleeping deeply like in their youth safely ensconced in their beds back at camp on Lake Charlevoix. When morning came, Nick was suddenly awakened by the sound of Charlie screaming. With a sleepy grin on his face, he grabbed his camera and slowly poked his head out of the tent to watch the commotion unfolding. Outside Charlie was jumping about on one booted foot, shaking the other boot until something fell out of it, losing his balance and falling over awkwardly with a heavy thud.
Sitting unceremoniously in the dust he yelled to Nick, “It’s a damn scorpion, I’m lucky it didn’t sting me!” Nick finally couldn’t keep it in any longer and burst out laughing, having taken a video of the whole escapade. Charlie looked at him quizzically, then realizing he had been had, leaned over and picked up the ‘scorpion.’ Long dead and just a dried husk, Charlie tossed it at a hysterically laughing Nick, hitting the side of the tent. “Yeah, real funny dumb ass, it’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.”
They broke down camp quickly, with the long-practiced efficiency of brothers who had done this a lot growing up, taking down the tent, stowing the gear, and packing everything back into duffle bags and coolers. The camp site itself was more pristine than when they arrived, just like they had been taught. Dad would have been proud. As Nick drove out of Chaco Canyon and back to the airport, Charlie commented on how much they had accomplished in so short a time. “That was a productive 48 hours bro. We did some good work there. Last night was fitting, couldn’t have been more appropriate, just the two of us.” Nick nodded, obviously feeling the same way, an echo of sadness overcome by the release of a collective weight they had carried.
“I feel like one chapter has closed, but for us, and especially you, another is about to open,” Charlie continued. “I know you are going to dig around to do some research, just promise me you won’t get caught up in anything you can’t handle. I know that look in your eye, you look just like Dad when his determination sometimes overtook his judgment.”
Nick looked over and raised an eyebrow, and replied, “Sure, OK Mom, I promise to be good.” But he knew Charlie’s intentions were sincere, and added, “Hey, I’ll be in regular touch, and I’ll be discrete. This is an academic exercise, but if it sheds light on what happened to Dad, so much the better. South of the border I go.” They drove on in silence, enjoying the last bit of time they had together, a steady stream of blues playing in the background, the songs reassuringly familiar.
Suddenly Nick looked down at the dashboard, tapped it, and said, “Crap, the oil light just came on again. I swear this truck burns more oil than gas.” He patted the dashboard and pleaded, “Come on Mable, you’re able.”
Charlie just shook his head and advised, “Seriously, why don’t you just get a more dependable set of wheels? Or if you can’t part with this, get it really refurbished? Lots of places specialize in customizing old rust buckets like this. You’ve got the coin, quit being so tight.”
Nick looked off in the distance, his mind already somewhere else. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Someday, when time allows and I’m not chasing any more mysteries. Someday.”
At a gas station just outside the airport Nick pulled over, filled up with gas and added a quart of motor oil. He also picked up three more quarts of oil and put them in the back, doing rough calculations in his head of how much he would need on his drive down to Mexico. That should get him there, he’d worry about the trip back later. Nick eased into the departure parking area of the airport and got out and gave Charlie a big bear hug.
“Sophie works tomorrow too, she’s got a charge shift on the maternity floor. Back to the city of broad shoulders and the rat race for me brother,” Charlie said, finally loosening his grip.
Nick smiled at him, he thought Sophie was a terrific match for Charlie, a dedicated wife, wonderful mother and a damn good nurse too. Not a bad person to have in the trenches with you, especially when raising a young family. Frankly there were times he envied Charlie and the organization and discipline of his life, the stability he had so carefully crafted for Sophie and the kids. But that all seemed counter to his wanderlust and insatiable curiosity, at least at this juncture of his life.
“Hey, give Sophie and the kids my love, would you? I’ll be in touch in the next couple of days with an update of anything I uncover,” Nick said, shaking hands with Charlie as he broke away and waved one last time.
Nick sat heavily back into the seat in his faithful Chevy pickup, deciding on his next immediate move. He could grab a few supplies and start to head south, or he could hang out here one more night and see if anyone was still around—and anyone meant Soba. Now that he was past the emotion of scattering the ashes with Charlie, his thoughts had immediately returned to her. He was bewitched by her, by that graceful and exotic shaman, he knew it, and wondered how he could even begin to track her down. “I don’t even have her number,” he ruefully reflected.
He checked his phone and saw that he had missed a text when seeing Charlie off. He grinned and his pulse immediately quickened when he saw it was from Bidzii, who was still in town with his band mates and a few friends. It said, “If you boys are still around, stop out in the evening at
the Gallo Campground in Chaco Canyon for a cookout and a campfire.”
Nick’s stomach fluttered like a teenager asking his first date out. He wanted to inquire if Soba would be there, but didn’t know how protective her big brother would be and decided not to.
Man, he thought. Mom would say I’m smitten. I’m too old for this type of reaction, aren’t I? He sent a text back to Bidzii saying he would be there, but that Charlie had gone back to the white man’s world of materialistic obligations, and that was his loss.
Nick made time from the airport along the now familiar route to Chaco Canyon, to the aptly named Gallo Campsite which ran along Gallo Creek. It was just past dinner time, dusk settling in, and he wandered through the campsites looking for his new group of friends. Packs of giggling kids ran past him, the smell of toasted marshmallows and smoky campfires hanging in the air. Seeing plenty of people but not any he recognized, he was about to call Bidzii on his cell phone when he heard singing and laughter carried on a slight breeze toward him. Instinctively he followed the sounds and saw that the Navajo band and their little entourage had taken over the large campfire circle in back of the campsite. Many other campers were joining in the fun, sitting on coolers, fold out chairs, or on the benches which formed a small natural amphitheater around the large fire pit. Just beyond the fire pit was a little ledge, forming a perfect stage often used for camp theater, now being used for some impromptu moonlight dancing.
Nothing like some good live music to draw a crowd out of nowhere, he thought.
Bidzii looked up and saw him and yelled, “Hey Vanilla Ice, come and join the party!” Nick grinned and waved back and worked his way through scattered coolers and chairs to the inner circle around a large bonfire. A couple of the other musicians saw him too and made room, Bidzii patting the ground next to him.
“Incoming,” one of them shouted, and Nick looked up just in time to catch an icy PBR tall boy that came sailing his way. “Good catch,” he heard.
As nick sat down replied, “Nice spiral.” Bidzii draped a muscular arm around his shoulder and gave him an affectionate crush and tapped beer cans with him.
“Welcome, Outlander. Glad you could fit us into your hectic schedule,” Bidzii said through a mischievous grin.
“Hello, Shik’is, glad I could make it work, thanks for the invite,” Nick replied, butchering the pronunciation of my friend in Navajo. With that he took the top off a bottle of bourbon he brought and handed it to Bidzii.
“Ha, you’re pretty fly for a white guy, let’s drink to it!”
A game of musical guitar was being played, with anyone who sat on the inner circle being passed an acoustic guitar to stand and sing to the whole gathering. If the crowd liked it, they would join in and sing the courses and often break into dance. If they didn’t there would be raspberries and cat calls until the player did a shot of booze to pay their dues, at which point they could try again or tap out and pass the guitar along. Atsa, whose name meant Eagle and was sitting to Nick’s right, had just gotten booed and dutifully did his shot. Nick laughed and looked over at Bidzii.
“Tough crowd tonight. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses,” Bidzii warned.
But Atsa was determined, and started banging out another song, this time singing Midnight Rider by the Allman Brothers. The crowd clapped and whistled its approval and sang along and danced. Before he could even pick a song, the guitar had been passed to Nick. He had been so preoccupied with wondering if Soba would show up, and with getting his courage up to ask Bidzii of her whereabouts, that he had no song idea, his mind completely blank. He looked over to Bidzii, hoping for him to throw a lifeline and offer a suggestion.
Bidzii, obviously sensing his discomfort and enjoying it, leaned in and whispered, “Hey, no pressure. It’s like Indiana Jones when he had a table full of grails in front of him. Choose wisely.”
Nick slowly stood, still searching for an idea, when he felt a heavy thump against his leg. He was about to protest that he needed just one more moment to think, when he saw it was Nanook leaning heavily into him, almost knocking him over.
“Aha, I’ve got it,” he said, knowing that Soba couldn’t be too far away. With that Nanook sat territorially next to him, and he played the first strands of Mustang Sally. The crowd murmured, unsure if this was a winning choice or not for the mood of the evening. Indecision wafted in the air, until he looked over and made eye contact with Soba dancing on the ledge by herself and sang out Mustang Soba. With that the band members started laughing. The crowd gathered and started to cheer and sing, and more people got up and joined in the dancing. The moon came out from behind a cloud, the gathering suddenly bathed in a soft lunar glow, the bodies swaying to Nick singing All you want to do is ride around Soba, with the crowd in unison shouting back Ride, Soba, ride!
“Well played, Eminem, now the pressure’s on me,” Bidzii said as he high fived Nick, taking the guitar for his turn. Nick cracked another beer, slowly catching a buzz between that, the bourbon, and the intoxicating vision of Soba dancing. She didn’t dance quite like anyone he had seen before, she used her long lithe figure exquisitely, gracefully moving to the music in her soul, her eyes closed, unencumbered by anyone’s perceptions. Even among the other Navajo she stood out, taller than most, swaying rhythmically, an elegant island of tranquility in a sea of herky-jerky foot stomping movements.
Nick was about to wander over to where Soba was dancing, when Atsa tapped him with the guitar again. Wow, already? he thought. It seemed he had just passed it along to Bidzii moments ago. It was turning into one of those nights, primal spirits were stirring under the moon, something was definitely in the air.
Bidzii looked at him while grinning ear to ear, and shouted, “Let’s see what you got for us this time, maybe some Bee-Gee’s?”
The song choice came to him easily, and he continued to watch Soba dancing by herself, even after the music had stopped. He strummed the first few notes to get his chords down, and then broke into an old favorite of his parents that seemed perfectly appropriate to this time and place, Dancing in The Moonlight by King Harvest.
Soba opened her eyes and looked around until she found his, the smile on her face crinkling the corners of her large dark eyes. Nick sang as he walked, working his way around the edge of the fire pit, then stepped up onto the ledge, and shimmied through the crowd and over to Soba. She turned to him, her arms making elegant movements above her, her hips swaying gently to the rhythm, an unbreakable force field between them, both moving perfectly in synch, never touching, with the crowd chanting out:
“Everybody’s dancin’ in the moonlight
Everybody’s feelin’ warm and right
It’s such a fine and natural sight
Everybody’s dancin’ in the moonlight”
After he had finished, Nick held the guitar up over his head. Bidzii jumped up and grabbed it from his outstretched hand, looked over at them both and said, “Oh, you crazy kids.”
Soba’s arms finally came down and rested gently around Nick’s neck, all while never stopping her swaying. Making a pout face she playfully refused to make eye contact with him and asked, “What took you so long, Nick LaBounty? I thought I would have to dance the whole night away all by myself. What’s a poor girl to do?”
Nick even found her voice enchanting, an accent that wasn’t quite pure Navajo, the lilt of a sing song cadence in everything she said. Nick put his hands around her hips and pulled her a little closer.
“I was unavoidably detained by some renegade Navajo blues band nobody ever heard of and a bottle of bourbon. I have to confess there also may have been some bad singing involved.”
Nearly his height, Soba raised her head and looked directly into his eyes and sighed. “Likely story. If only I had a dime for every time I heard that one.” She turned her head away and closed her eyes and snuggled into his shoulder, Nick breathing in her dark hair deeply, smelling piñon pine, dry desert herbs, and light campfire smoke. They slow danced while Bidzii finished his
song, not really hearing it or even being conscience of anyone around them. Finally noticing that the song had ended, she turned and nibbled his ear.
“What say we get out of here?” she whispered.
Chapter 17 – Night, June 21
Taking Nick by the hand, Soba grabbed a bottle of mezcal and a couple of blankets and headed out away from all the commotion. Nanook pranced out in front of them, constantly circling them at a distance, the ever-vigilant sentinel. The moon was bright, outlining everything in sharp focus, small paths and trails easy to discern. The cacti cast strange shadows, looking like ghosts with their arms raised in mock salute to the wandering couple. With no real destination in mind they meandered hand in hand, enjoying the sudden quiet and solitude. Away from the fire the air had a chill to it, and Nick unrolled one blanket and put it around Soba’s shoulders. They continued in one direction, as if drawn to it, sharing occasional sips on the bottle, which tasted like a sweet tequila. The path wound around and rose for some time until it suddenly ended, revealing a part of the canyon below, one wall of which was directly illuminated by the moon. Built into the cliff wall was a distinctly visible pueblo, the colors cast so sharply black and white the whole area looked like an old photograph, a glowing lunar landscape.
Nick found a large boulder to sit and lean against, allowing them to take in the surreal vista spread out before them. Nanook crawled up above it and lay down, with only his two front paws and snout visible directly above them. He let out a huff to let them know he was there, and all was safe. Nick put one blanket under them, and when Soba crawled into the nook of his arm, pulled the other over them. His restless soul was at ease for the first time since he could remember, he thought he could easily stay here, just like this, and let his worries and obligations melt away. He had made a complete nonverbal connection with someone, an entirely new concept to him. But he knew in the brief time he had with Soba there was a deeper connection here. He didn’t want them to just have a brief fling and then go their separate ways, a random encounter. He wanted to know more about her, the night was perfect, his senses were heightened, there would be no sleeping tonight.
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