“No, that’s just your brain sending out orders about the way it thinks you should be reacting. Stop thinking about it so much and you’ll feel a lot better.”
“Fine.”
It’s not even close to fine, but I learned a long time ago there’s no point in arguing with her. I decide to change the subject and point at the bighorn head she’s still carrying by one horn like it weighs nothing.
“So this has never happened before?” I ask.
“What? Cousins getting killed by hunters?”
I nod.
“Sure it has. And I know what you’re going to ask. What happens to the hunter all depends on the kin of the victim. But most times, if we’re in animal form when it happens, no one has a problem. You know, so long as the hunter approaches his kill with respect, uses all he can, and gives thanks for the bounty. We all have our part to play on the wheel of life.”
“You’d be okay with somebody eating you?”
She shrugs. “If I’m stupid enough to get caught, sure. Everybody’s got to eat.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that idea.”
“Nobody goes looking for it. But life isn’t ours to keep. We only get to hold it for a little bit and then we’ve got to pass it on. It’s like that for everybody. Even the ma’inawo. Even the thunders. And when you go, wouldn’t you rather nourish somebody with the meat you can’t take with you?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I say, then stick my finger in my throat.
She ignores my sarcasm. Instead she studies me for a moment. “Are you okay enough to move on?”
I push away from the boulder that’s been grounding me and roll my shoulders. “Sure,” I say. “Where to?”
“The aunts and uncles say a bunch of the tribe are sitting around a fire near the community center, telling stories, holding a vigil of sorts. I thought we’d bring Derek to them.”
“The aunts and uncles?”
She points to the saguaro cacti forest on the slopes below where we’re standing. I remember Morago calling them that one night around a campfire, telling me how the saguaro hold the spirits of the Kikimi who have lived a good life. He waited expectantly until I asked the question he was waiting for: What happens to those who live a bad life? They come back as people, he told me.
“I thought that was just a story,” I say to Calico.
She smiles. “Everything’s a story and more of them are true than maybe you think. They’re all part of the wheel of the world.”
She holds out her hand. “Shall we go?”
Doesn’t matter how we travel, I tell myself. I can still be grounded.
Yeah, because that’s worked so well for me so far.
But I take her hand anyway and off we go again.
23
Thomas
Morago and Reuben were the only ones who didn’t seem surprised when Calico stepped in out of nowhere carrying the head of a bighorn sheep in one hand, the other pulling Steve in her wake. Steve seemed a little unsteady on his feet, but he regained his balance quickly.
Around them, everybody fell silent. No one moved except to stare in their direction. Thomas glanced at Jerry, where he was holding up the wall of the community center. The deputy straightened up, hand going to his holster, but he just stood there staring like everybody else.
While their appearance surprised Thomas as much as anyone else, he recovered more quickly. All things considered, this had already been such a weird-ass day, what was one more improbable event to add to the list? He remembered Auntie telling him if you walked once with the ma’inawo, you had a foot in their world forever after.
The shaman stood up from his chair. “Ohla,” he said.
“Ohla, Morago,” Calico replied, but her attention was on William Strong Bow.
Dropping Steve’s hand and taking the head of Derek Two Trees by both horns, she walked through the silent crowd to where William sat by the fire. She went down on one knee and held it out, offering it to him. The head appeared weightless in her hands, but when William took it, he grunted and the muscles stood out in his arms to keep the head aloft. That made Thomas realize that while the bighorn blood was strong in William, he wasn’t a ma’inawo.
“Ohla, cousin,” Calico said. Then she added in a formal voice, “I am so sorry for your loss. We have made what recompense we could, but any further retribution you would consider due, we have left to be bound by the wisdom of you and your kin.”
William cleared his throat, then spoke in a shaky voice. “You have, um…” he said before he stopped and swallowed. “This is a great service you have done for my clan,” he said. Tears streamed down his face.
Calico touched his knee. “You would do no less.”
William managed a nod. Someone brought a blanket and William laid the bighorn upon it.
Calico rose and walked back over to Steve.
“We all give you thanks,” Morago said to them both. He paused a beat, then added, “Should we be expecting a visit from Sammy and his boys?”
“Probably,” Steve told him. “But Calico made sure he gained certain…insights, so he might just be coming for some advice.”
Reuben stepped up to stand beside the shaman. “Advice on what?” he asked.
“How to tell the difference between animals and cousins,” said Steve.
Reuben scoffed. “Are we’re talking about the same Sammy Swift Grass we all know and would like to stake out on an ant hill?”
Steve nodded. “Or he could come riding in with guns blazing. It all depends on how seriously he took Calico’s warning.”
“What did she say to him?” Reuben asked.
“I’d be interested in hearing that too,” Jerry said.
Thomas remembered a story about how the ma’inawo never broke their word. Jerry probably remembered that story as well, but even if Calico were to carry out her threats on Sammy, what did Jerry think the tribal police could do? It wasn’t like you could lock up somebody who’d just step away into another world whenever they wanted.
“Relax,” Steve told Jerry. “It’s not like she threatened to disembowel him or anything.” He shot Calico a glance and she grinned back.
Thomas wondered if he was the only one to notice how—just for a moment—her teeth all seemed sharp and pointed.
“And I seriously doubt,” Steve went on, “that Sammy’s got anything planned for tonight. He’s going to be too busy dealing with a dissatisfied client to be thinking of coming down here.”
The answer seemed to appease Jerry. If anyone else was unconvinced, they didn’t bring it up.
Morago went and put a hand on William’s shoulder. “Instead of worrying about Sammy,” the shaman said, “we should take Derek up to Ancestors Canyon so he can start his next journey on the wheel.” He looked around the rest of the group. “I’d like to have everything ready for a sunrise ceremony,” he said.
The next few minutes were busy as the fire was covered with dirt and the men got their vehicles ready. Most of them drove off to collect other tribal members, leaving only a few behind. Reuben and a couple of his dog boys. William, Steve and Calico. Morago and the deputy. And Thomas.
“Ride with me,” Reuben told the shaman, opening his passenger door.
Morago shook his head. “I’ll ride in the back with William.”
William bent over to lift Derek’s head, but Calico stepped up, hoisted it easily and got into the back of the pickup. Morago and William joined her, and the dog boys sat beside Reuben on the bench seat in the front of the cab.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Morago told Steve, “but come as far as the mouth of the canyon with us.”
Steve hesitated, then gave a nod. He joined the others, and then there was only Jerry, who wasn’t coming, and Thomas, who figured he’d be walking home now, seeing how he’d been the one to drive here in Reuben’s truck.
“You too,” Morago said, offering his hand to Thomas.
Thomas let the shaman pull him into th
e bed of the pickup.
“Everybody set?” Reuben called from the cab.
Morago gave the roof of the cab a slap with his hand and then they were off. Grabbing the side panel, Thomas lowered himself down to sit on a wheel well. He retained his hold on the panel for balance as the truck bounced over a series of washboard bumps. Calico sat with William, the two of them with their knees up, backs to the cab, Derek’s head on the blanket between them. Calico had a grip on one horn to keep the head from sliding. Across from where Thomas was sitting, Steve steadied himself on the other wheel well, while Morago sat on his haunches in front of him. The pickup lurched and bumped on the uneven road, but the unsteady ride didn’t seem to affect the shaman’s balance.
“I don’t know why you wanted me to come,” Steve said to Morago. “You’re not going to talk me into taking part in any kind of ceremony.”
Thomas leaned a little closer to hear over the sound of the motor and the wheels on the rough road.
“Because you don’t walk the Red Road,” Morago said.
Steve nodded. “Either you’re born into a tribe or you’re not—it’s that simple. I may not know what the hell I am, but I know it’s not a wannabe Kikimi.”
“No one in the Painted Lands would ever think that of you.”
“Still not going.”
Morago nodded. “I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
“We need to talk. Someone’s come looking for that girl you found.”
Thomas nodded to himself. It was just as he’d thought. Morago did know something about the kidnapped girl.
“Are you sure it’s Sadie they’re after?” Steve asked.
“How many other teenage white girls do we have running around the rez?”
Steve nodded. “Point taken. Who came looking?”
“Deputy Hernandez from the sheriff’s department, with her father in tow.”
Morago gave Steve a quick rundown on what had transpired in the parking lot. When Thomas glanced at Calico and William, they didn’t appear to be listening.
“This kidnapping story is such bullshit,” Steve said when Morago was done. “Her old man’s the one that drove out here and threw her away.”
“I know,” Morago said. “And the deputy knows there’s something not right about the father’s story, but she’s a minor, so he still has to investigate.”
“Of course he does.”
Steve looked back down the road. The moon had almost set. They were in the canyons now and there wasn’t really anything to see except for vague outlines of rocks, cacti and scrub.
“You’ll have to take the girl back to town,” Morago finally said.
“And do what with her?”
Morago shrugged. “I don’t know, but she can’t come to the school. Take her to the bus station and give her some money.”
“I’m not going to let her be thrown away a second time.”
“We don’t know that she was really thrown away,” Morago said. “What if she’s in on it?”
“In on what? Look, her father dumped her in the middle of nowhere. I saw it happen. He had no idea that I or anyone else would find her. And how would she get in touch with him if they were running a con? She doesn’t even have a phone.”
“When I stopped by Aggie’s yesterday,” Morago said, “the girl was on the computer. She could have been communicating with her father right then. Or she could have used Aggie’s landline.”
Steve shook his head. “I just don’t see it—not unless Sadie’s an Academy Award class actor.”
“Well, you’ve got to do something. She’s safe at Aggie’s for now, but that’s not going to last. Deputy Hernandez said her father knows how to work the system. He was already yelling at the deputy about involving the Indian Bureau, demanding they get FBI choppers up in the air above the rez.”
Reuben’s pickup slowed down. Thomas looked past the cab to see they’d reached the entrance to Ancestors Canyon. The pickup pulled over to the side of the road and Reuben killed the engine.
“I could bring Sadie to my place,” Steve said. “Nobody’ll find her there.”
“Are you sure you want to take that chance?” Morago asked. “The two of you alone out there—what if she calls foul?”
“Calico will be with me.”
The doors of the pickup opened and Reuben and the dog boys got out of the cab.
Instead of jumping to the ground right away, Thomas cleared his throat. “Is this all true?” he asked Morago and Steve. Thomas knew crappy things happened to people, even here on the rez. And he knew kids weren’t immune to being victims. But it seemed especially wrong to him when people treated their own kids like that. Parents were supposed to protect their children. The whole extended family was supposed to be a buffer against the bad things that could happen.
The two men exchanged glances.
“Is what true?” Morago asked.
“What you’re saying about this girl—that her father just threw her away.”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “One hundred percent. I was camping on a headland out near my place when I saw the car stop and the girl was pushed out. Then the car just drove away.”
“So what her father was saying back at the community center was total bullshit.”
Steve nodded. “From what I’ve heard, it’s been a lot worse for Sadie than just getting dumped along the highway.”
“If any of that’s true,” Morago murmured.
Steve shot him a look and the shaman shrugged, holding up his hands in defeat.
But Thomas didn’t hear him. Instead he was picturing Santana and Naya in his head. He was remembering what had happened to Rebecca Spotted Pony’s little girl, Giselle. Rebecca had met a new guy at the Indian Market in town and brought him home. A couple of days later she went out to party and left Giselle with the stranger. It wasn’t the first such tragedy on the rez. It was just the latest.
“I hear about something like that,” Thomas said, “and then I think about it happening to my sisters—it makes me feel a little crazy.”
“I hear you,” Steve said.
“So if you need help with anything, just let me know.”
Steve studied him for a moment, then nodded and stood up. He offered Thomas a hand and pulled him to his feet.
“I hope it doesn’t get to that,” Steve said, “but I appreciate it.”
“Appreciate what?”
They saw Reuben standing at the back of the truck, looking up at them.
“That when the time comes,” Morago said, “Thomas is ready to stand up and do the right thing.”
The shaman jumped lightly to the ground, followed by the others.
Reuben gave Thomas a light punch in the upper arm. “Hell, I could have told you that,” he said.
Thomas ducked his head in embarrassment. He wanted to say, then why can I not wait to get away from the rez?
It was just like an elder to try to make it all about the tribe when the reality was, he just didn’t like bullies. And he’d only come to the community center earlier because Auntie had asked him to. But nobody wanted to hear that—not while they were all pumped up on tribal pride—so instead of explaining, he shrugged and walked around the pickup to look out toward the canyon.
The last time Thomas had been here was when they laid his Aunt Lucy—Auntie’s sister—to rest. A lot of the rez members were Catholics and they were buried in San Miguel Cemetery on the outskirts of Santo del Vado Viejo, but Ancestors Canyon was where the traditionalists were brought.
Thomas remembered there’d been spirits everywhere that day—not just vague representations of the animal clans he could sometimes see hovering on people’s shoulders, but crowds of the kind he usually only spied in ones and twos from the corners of his eyes. Some of them were strange creatures, part human, part animal. Others were like ambulatory cacti with occasional human faces and limbs. Most of them remained incorporeal, but a few had taken human form to mingle with the mourners, comforting them wi
th a touch on a shoulder or an arm.
Though he knew they meant him no harm, it had been a disconcerting experience at the time, and one he wasn’t eager to repeat.
Looking up the canyon now, he could see the spirits beginning to gather in the growing light cast by the dawn pinking the peaks of the mountains beyond the canyon. He watched in fascination as many of them came down the almost sheer cliffs here at the mouth of the canyon, as sure-footed as desert bighorn.
Like Steve’s friend Calico could, a good number of them manifested in curious hybrid forms. The mix of animal and human was mostly subtle. He saw a woman with long hare ears hanging like braids along either side of her face, standing with another two who had small antlers lifting from their brows. A man with a subtle sheen of scales on his skin seemed to simply glide down the red rock walls of the canyon, moving effortlessly like a lizard or snake. But others were unmistakably alien, such as the coyote head on another man’s shoulders, pointed ears pushing up through the flat brim of his hat, or the tall woman with the head and torso that seemed proportionately far too small compared to her four long limbs. Or maybe that was just the poor light.
Thomas was mesmerized by her until the woman turned in his direction. As soon as their gazes met, he quickly looked away, hoping the shiver that had travelled up his spine hadn’t shown on his face.
He let his attention wander after that, never lingering for long on one figure. The spirits murmured quietly to one another until suddenly they all fell still and turned as one to look farther down the canyon.
“Uh-oh,” he heard Calico say from behind him.
Following their gaze, he saw what she and the other spirits had already sensed approaching.
The black dog with a broad head and broader shoulders came first, standing as tall at the shoulder as a small pony. But it was the woman walking behind the dog that grabbed and held his attention.
Like the dog, she was tall and her hair jet black, but there the resemblance ended. She was reed thin, almost insubstantial, with a nimbus of darkness following in her wake like a long enveloping cloak of black mist. Her features were slender and bird-like, her eyes set wide on either side of a nose as sharp as a beak. Hovering on her shoulders was the vague impression of a giant raven’s skull.
The Wind in His Heart Page 13
