Red Mesa

by Aimée

  Ella remembered her first few years in the Bureau. She’d always been eager to work the complicated, exciting cases. The FBI had been a totally different world for her, one she’d wanted to leave her mark on. She suspected it was the same for Payestewa.

  As a young clerk about Justine’s age came in and began distributing paychecks, Payestewa held out his hand. “It must be eagle day. Where’s mine? I’m new here. Did I forget to fill out all the paperwork?”

  “Who are you?” the young clerk said, totally confused.

  “Payestewa, Lucas. New, good-looking, armed and dangerous when I’m low on cash.”

  The clerk sorted through the envelopes in her hand, then looked at Ella. “Should I know who he is?”

  Ella shook her head, letting her know Payestewa was pulling her leg. “Don’t worry. He’s here on the merit-pay program. We just don’t know if he’s worth anything yet.”

  “Oh, now you’re in trouble, Investigator Clah. Here I am, ready to dazzle you with my new, improved FB-in-your-eye training, and you’re disrespecting me already.”

  “Clah was in the Bureau, working undercover, when you were still in high school,” Blalock muttered.

  “So you left your poverty-level job in the FBI for a high-paying career in Navajo law enforcement?” Payestewa grinned. “That’s the problem with federal employees today. No dedication.”

  Ella looked at Blalock. “Is he always like this?”

  “I don’t know. I never listen to him,” Blalock answered sourly.

  Ella put her paycheck into her back pocket and studied Payestewa, who was now introducing himself to Neskahi. She just couldn’t get a clear handle on him.

  “Hey, in comparison to us, the Bureau agents are wealthy,” Officer Tache said, looking at his check before putting it away.

  “I’ll bet our take-home is about the same,” Payestewa said. “I had more spending money in college when my tribe was footing the bills. In fact, I’m thinking that maybe I could afford a better apartment if I started taking a few college classes.”

  Tache gave Ella a totally confused look, and that same expression was on Neskahi’s face and the clerk’s. Did he ever say anything without including a joke somewhere in there?

  After Blalock and Payestewa left to visit with the chief, Tache looked at Ella and Sergeant Neskahi. “There’s more to that man than meets the eye,” he said. “I’ve never trusted a friendly Hopi.”

  Neskahi shook his head. “No one who takes life so casually could get by for long in the FBI. He bears watching.”

  Ella nodded. At the heart of everyone’s distrust, including her own, was the uneasiness between the Hopi and Navajo tribe. She wasn’t kidding herself about that. Yet, as she thought about Payestewa, she had to admit that something about the guy seemed off-center.

  “What was his name again?” Tache asked.

  “Payes something,” Neskahi answered sourly.

  “Paycheck’s more like it,” Tache answered.

  Neskahi laughed.

  Ella smiled. Navajos often used nicknames, and Payestewa had just been given his. She had a feeling that before long, the entire department would know him as Paycheck.

  * * *

  Ella stopped by Justine’s house after leaving the station, but no one was there. Ella’s cousin and the rest of the family worked during the day, but she’d expected Justine to be around, particularly if she’d gone home sick.

  Puzzled by her cousin’s behavior, and trying not to see more to it than there was, Ella drove home.

  From the moment she walked inside, Ella knew something was wrong. She could hear the TV going in the nursery, something Rose never allowed during the day unless she was in there, too.

  Hurrying, she went down the hall. Even before she entered the room, she heard Dawn coughing.

  “What’s going on?” Ella asked her mother, who was sitting in a chair beside the window, crocheting. Ella kneeled down beside Dawn’s side.

  “Toons!” Dawn said, then coughed again, standing to give her mother a big hug.

  Ella could smell the familiar herbs that her mother had always used for throat ailments and colds. “Hey, short stuff. Looks like I better go to the drugstore and get something for that cough of yours.”

  She gave Dawn a little peck on the cheek, then checked to see if her nose was red or runny.

  Rose sighed. “All those cough medicines treat too many things and make her sleepy and cranky. Take her to your brother instead. Our herbs don’t have the side effects Anglo medications have.”

  Ella nodded, agreeing, then felt Dawn’s forehead. Her daughter didn’t appear to have a fever, and with the exception of her cough, looked to be in pretty good shape. “I can drive over there right now. Do you know if my brother’s home?”

  “He is. I spoke to my daughter-in-law briefly. She’s in a bad mood because my son has been in the hogan every waking hour for two days preparing new medicines for some of his patients. She wants him to find more time to spend with her and Julian.”

  “I’ve never gotten along with her, Mom, but this time I can see where she’s coming from. The mother’s brother is supposed to assume a lot of responsibility for raising the child, but her own brother lives in California now, and hasn’t seen her son much at all. She sees her husband spending some time with my daughter, and that only reminds her that her own brother is away. She can’t raise her son in the traditionalist way that she would have preferred, so she demands more of her husband, wanting him to take a greater part, like in the ideal Anglo family.”

  “It would have been easier on my daughter-in-law if her mother lived a little closer,” Rose said.

  Ella picked up Dawn. “Okay. I’m taking her to see my brother. We’ll be back soon.”

  Ella parked next to her brother’s medicine hogan rather than beside the Anglo-style house to signify she was there to see Clifford in his capacity as hataalii, medicine man. She hadn’t been there long when she saw Clifford pull back the blanket that covered the entrance and wave at her. As tall as her but two years older, with long hair and a bandanna tied around his brow, Ella’s brother looked very traditional, as he indeed was.

  Clifford had the high cheekbones and broad face characteristic of their family. His eyes were coal black, deeply set, and sparkled with intelligence and intensity.

  Ella took Dawn out of the car seat and, as she walked to the hogan, saw Loretta, clad in a faded yellow dress, standing at the side window of the house. She waved, but Loretta didn’t wave back.

  Clifford met Ella at the entrance to the hogan. “My wife’s had a bad day,” he said, apparently having seen the one-way greeting. “My son is nearly four now, and he’s very independent. He wants to do things on his own, but she wants him to stay her baby.”

  “She wants to feel needed, brother,” Ella said quietly. “I’ll probably be the same when my daughter no longer needs me as much.”

  “Maybe, but you have other things that demand your attention, like your career. My wife has chosen to devote her life to our son, and because of that, the inevitable changes that’ll take place as our son grows up and away from us will be difficult for her to take,” Clifford said, taking Dawn from Ella’s arms.

  As Dawn began to cough, he set her down on a sheepskin blanket, then reached for a pouch of herbs atop a wooden shelf. “Give this to her as a tea when you get home. It’ll help. It’s Apache plume root. Boiled and prepared with sugar, it’ll help with her cough. This other is anise and you can make this into a tea as well.” He glanced up at Ella as he prepared an herbal infusion for Dawn to drink right away. “I have to admit that I’m surprised you brought her to me.”

  “I thought about getting some cough medicine at the store, but Mom’s right. Those always have side effects, especially for the very young, and some of the formulas treat symptoms she doesn’t have. Often the old ways have distinct advantages.”

  Clifford nodded as he heated water on the potbellied stove in the center of the hogan. Once it began to
boil, he poured it into a small pottery bowl. A pleasant minty scent filled the hogan. “Something else is bothering you, sister, I can feel it.”

  “Hey, intuition is supposed to be my thing,” she teased.

  Clifford gave her an easy smile. “Don’t try to sidetrack me.”

  Ella nodded. “I was wondering if you’ve heard anything about any of our old enemies. Is anything going on these days?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said. “And I would know. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve had major trouble here, and I’m feeling a bit concerned. We’re due for something, I can almost sense it.”

  He nodded, straining the herb tea into a small plastic cup, then handing it to Ella. “Have her sip it, if she can.”

  As Ella held the cup for Dawn, Clifford answered her question. “Like it is with nature and everything else, the Rez has cycles of rest and unrest. I’ll keep an eye out for signs of trouble. But there’s more on your mind. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Ella hesitated, concentrating for a moment on the task of holding the cup so Dawn could sip. It must have been pleasant enough, because she didn’t shy away from drinking.

  At last Ella continued, but measured her words carefully. Police business was always confidential and she had to tread carefully, even when speaking to family. “There’s some trouble at work. It’s making me a little uneasy,” she said, then stopped, hearing a vehicle pulling up outside.

  Clifford pulled back the blanket. “It’s an old friend and a new one.”

  “I better leave, then,” she said, reaching for Dawn.

  Wilson Joe walked in a moment later, followed by another Navajo man she didn’t recognize. Wilson was dressed in a western-cut shirt, blue jeans, and boots—the uniform of the well-dressed Navajo gentleman.

  Wilson was taller than the newcomer, nearly Ella’s height, and broad shouldered. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he smiled.

  “Don’t leave on our account,” Wilson said. “We’re just here to beg a favor from your brother.” He turned around, ready to introduce his friend, then out of respect for a traditionalist’s views, left out names. “This is our new professor at the college.”

  As was customary, they didn’t shake hands. Ella nodded and allowed them to continue.

  “We’d like you to speak to our after-school club about traditional Navajo medicine,” Wilson asked Clifford.

  “Not only that, but the philosophy behind traditional medicine,” Wilson’s co-worker added. His speech patterns and lack of Navajo “accent” suggested he’d spent a lot of time off the Rez, and his knit sport shirt and gray slacks supported that notion. He had a narrow face for a Navajo and sharply defined features that gave him an intense look.

  The new professor continued. “Our kids just don’t get enough of that part of our culture. They learn biology and life sciences in middle and high school, but they don’t hear about herbs and Navajo medicine, which has been practiced for hundreds of years. We want to expose the kids to our ways, not just what’s in the Anglo textbooks.”

  Clifford gave them a puzzled look. “But you’re both modernists. Whatever’s new that seems to benefit the Dineh, The People, you see as progress.”

  Wilson’s companion spoke slowly. “I believe, and I think my colleague will agree, that in order to choose their own paths, the children have to know both ways. The kids are under constant bombardment from television and magazines and they’re learning about the Anglo world all the time, but our ways are harder for them to understand. We need to make our traditions known to young people, and expose them to our beliefs and customs, or we’re going to lose our children.”

  “I’ll be very happy to talk to the kids, but I’d prefer not to do it in a classroom setting,” Clifford said. “Bring them here. Let them see a hataalii at work, not just be lectured by one. They should experience The Way, not just hear about it.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Wilson said. “But there are nearly thirty of them. Are you sure you’re up to that here?”

  “Let me think about it, then I’ll let you know for sure.”

  Hearing another vehicle outside, Clifford went to the entrance. “I’ll have to ask all of you to excuse me now. I have a patient coming.” He handed Ella a small bag containing more herbs for brewing tea. “Let me know how my niece does.”

  “Thanks, brother.” Ella picked up Dawn and led Wilson and his friend out of the hogan.

  FIVE

  Wilson and his friend stopped by Ella’s Jeep. “This is Professor Jeremiah Manyfarms,” Wilson said now that they were outside the medicine hogan and not in the hataalii’s presence.

  Ella still didn’t shake hands, but nodded. “It’s good to meet you.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Clah,” Manyfarms said. “Your background sounds similar to mine.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We walk a difficult line between the old and the new. I received some emergency medical training in the army, but I see the advantages of Navajo healing, and I use it sometimes in tandem, and at other times exclusively.”

  “I’m that way, too. It just depends on the situation.” She told them about Dawn’s cough, then added, “The tea my brother gave her has worked. She’s stopped coughing.”

  Jeremiah smiled at Dawn as she squirmed, anxious to be put down. Ella complied and watched her daughter tottering clumsily after a lizard who’d darted into some bushes.

  “I’m glad we’ve finally had the opportunity to meet. I hope things will get better around the station soon,” Jeremiah said.

  Ella’s radar for trouble went up. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I understand you and your second cousin Justine have been having problems at work. It must be difficult to work with someone when trust is an issue,” Jeremiah said offhandedly.

  “I trust Justine implicitly,” she said coldly.

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure you’ll be able to work things out with her then.”

  “How did you hear about this?” Ella asked pointedly.

  “Justine hasn’t kept it a secret to her close friends,” he answered easily. “Was it supposed to be one?”

  “Depends how much you know.”

  “Well, the shooting incident is common knowledge, Ella,” he said, calling her by her first name, something that for some reason she couldn’t explain bothered her. “But some people have said that it was a bit of confusion that got blown way out of proportion.”

  “Who said?”

  “The clerk at the convenience store, for one,” Jeremiah responded. “Don’t be so surprised. People talk. When you’re troubled, I’m sure you have your own circle of friends that you trust and confide in. A beautiful woman like you never lacks for friends.”

  Professor Manyfarms was annoying her. Ella glanced at Wilson and saw that he shared her sentiments.

  “We better go back to the college,” Wilson said, gesturing back to his SUV.

  “I’ll catch you later, Ella,” Jeremiah said with a casual wave of his hand.

  Ella watched them go. Wilson had floored the vehicle, leaving a trail of dust behind him. There was nothing except friendship between Wilson and her, but he still didn’t like it when a man paid too much attention to her.

  There had been a time when Wilson had hoped a romance would develop between them, but the spark had never been there. Romantic love was not something any Navajo expected, but a match between them had seemed a bad idea to her. Wilson would have expected more from his wife than she, as a full-time cop, would ever be able to give him.

  Still, there were times when she wished it could have been different. They’d grown up together and were as close as friends could be. She’d always been comfortable around Wilson.

  She pushed the thought aside. At times she could barely cope with the demands her mother made, let alone the ones a husband would make on her. What she had in her life was enough.

  Ella headed home, trying to force her
self to relax, and taking care not to bounce the truck around on the dirt track. Dawn, as always, no matter how bumpy the road, fell asleep. She envied her daughter’s ability to shut out the world and relax so totally.

  After hitting the main road, Ella glanced in the rearview mirror. It was an ingrained habit drilled into her after a decade of police work. Off in the distance she could see one vehicle leaving a thin trail of dust on the graveled road. Employing the aggressive caution she’d developed over the years, she avoided taking the turnoff that would lead her straight home. When she reached the next side road, running parallel to a natural-gas pipe line, she chose it immediately.

  The vehicle stayed with her, even after she’d changed roads again, this time back toward a small lake. Despite that, she wasn’t sure if it was a threat. The driver was certainly not trying to narrow the gap between them. She considered calling in, but with the department’s current manpower problems, she didn’t want to take another cop away from his patrol for what could turn out to be nothing more than coincidence or joyriding teens.

  Ella had to make sure that someone was really tailing her, not just heading in the same direction. Trying to ditch it with so few road choices made things tough. She headed east back to the paved highway, devising a plan.

  The vehicle remained half a mile behind, and from this distance she couldn’t even be sure of the make and model. Ella slowed her speed, proceeding at half the posted limit. Then, suddenly, after she went around a sharp curve in the road, she slammed down on the accelerator and roared down the road.

  Ella raced over the next hill, then lost sight of the vehicle behind her momentarily. Slowing down, she inched along, waiting for the vehicle to clear the hill and come racing after her, trying to catch up. She’d get a good look at him then.

  Seconds went by and her pursuer failed to appear. With no other traffic around, Ella turned around and raced back in the opposite direction, hoping to still catch a glimpse of the car. After a moment she saw it off in the distance, heading toward Shiprock. Even if she floored her truck, she’d never catch it before it reached town. Reluctantly she decided to head home.