by K C West
“Maybe sometime in the future, Dr. Curtis. My birthday isn’t until December. Right now, I’m focused on my professional goals.”
“Call me PJ, okay?”
“Okay.”
“A December birthday? Near Christmas?”
“A week before. I get a lot of dual presents.”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “My birthday’s on a holiday too, but people don’t exchange gifts on it.”
She cocked her head in thought. “Can’t be Valentine’s Day. I give up. What’s the date?”
“June fourteenth.”
“Flag Day. That’s cool.”
“I used to think so. When I was really young, I thought all the flags were flying because it was my birthday. I was a tad self-absorbed back then.”
“Most little children are. They think everything in the world is all about them.”
We drove on in silence for several miles, and I tried to think of something to talk with Karen about instead of dwelling on Kim’s absence.
“Will you stay on at the park full time after the summer?”
“No, I hope to be out of the park service by the end of this summer, if I can. It’s great work, but my real ambition is to join the New Mexico State Police and be an investigative officer, like my aunt.”
“Oh, I see. And what does Gina think about your plans?”
Karen shrugged. “She’s known for a long time. I think she’s okay with it, but she’s never encouraged me, either. She knows my mom’s against it.”
“Too dangerous for her taste?”
“Yep. She and my dad wanted me to be a teacher or nurse. Something with steady pay and less excitement. I’ve already passed the physical and had the interviews with the State Police. I’m just waiting for the next training academy session to be announced. I’m high enough on the list to make it in. In the meantime, I’ve enrolled in a program to finish college with a degree in criminal justice. Classes can coincide with police work for the first two years of employment. That starts in the fall.”
“Sounds like you’ll be busy.”
“I hope to be, if they’d just get the academy going.”
Her animated expression left no doubt of her interest. Kim had that same lively expression when I first met her. I guess I did, too. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“I want to be just like my aunt. She’s got a husband, kids, and a career that she loves.”
“Sounds like she’s the perfect role model.”
“So, how about you, PJ. How did you come to be an archaeologist?”
“That’s a long story, and I’m about ready to be out of this Jeep for a while.- Let’s find a place to stop and I’ll tell you the condensed version.”
“Okay. There’s a decent cafe in Cuba, and we can fill up on gas across the street from it. Care for a cup of coffee or tea?”
“Tea. Sure. Maybe they’ll even have Earl Grey.”
We found an empty booth in the Cuba Cafe. Karen had coffee and I ordered green tea with ginseng and honey.
“Anything else?” the waiter asked. “Breakfast burritos are available until eleven.”
We were only an hour or so away from Chaco Canyon, so we declined anything more than our beverages.
“Now, how did you become an archaeologist?” Karen stirred some sugar into her coffee and took a sip.
“I had two role models for my career. The first person was a professor at Tufts when I was an undergrad. Ms. Martin taught history, but had an interest in digging sites during the summer. I went on a few of her working vacations as part of a volunteer crew and just fell in love with the whole process.”
Karen asked for more cream and leaned forward to pluck a couple of sugar packs from the dispenser between us. “Who was your second role model?”
“That turned out to be my colleague and business partner, Dr. Kim Blair.”
Karen’s cup was half way to her mouth, but she put it down hastily. “The woman who’s missing?”
“Yes. Didn’t Gina tell you?”
“No. She doesn’t give out any details during an investigation. I knew about the case from a few articles in the newspaper. When Aunt Gina told me your name, I thought it rang a bell. I’m sorry to bring it up like that.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. And, truthfully, it’s hard to think of anything else these days. You’ve done a good job of taking my mind off of her disappearance up until now.”
“Was Dr. Blair your teacher, too?”
“Not as part of my course work, but she did teach me quite a bit.”
I felt my cheeks flush. She taught me what it’s like to love a woman with all my heart.
“She had a grant from my father’s foundation to find a lost tribe of Amazons somewhere in the southwest. She’d traced the movements of a small band of these women from South America northward to Arizona and the Superstition Mountains. We spent about three months on the project with a group of University of Arizona grad students.”
I swallowed the last of my tea. “That was several years ago. Kim and I decided to work together on some other projects. I wasn’t the most focused or organized scientist at the beginning, but I knew Kim had a wealth of experience and ability. She also had enough patience to let me improve my skills.”
Karen looked down at her watch, a slight smile playing across her face. “Guess we’d better hit the restroom and get back on the road.”
I stood up and motioned to our waiter. “You go on ahead,” I told Karen. “I’ll get this and be right with you.”
“Hey, I have enough funds for coffee, PJ.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds while I wondered if I’d insult her if I insisted on paying. I looked down at the bill. “Okay, you can give me two fifty when we get back in the Jeep.”
*
From miles away, Fajada Butte rose above the surface of the canyon. It gave me a point at which to aim the Jeep, an anchor to keep my mind focused. By the time I spotted the brown wooden sign with white letters spelling out Chaco Canyon National Monument and saw the flag flying over the headquarters, my butt was sore from bouncing over the rough terrain.
I surveyed the complex. In addition to the Visitor Center, there was a theater, museum, gift shop, and bookstore. I let Karen out near the staffs quarters. She pulled her gear from the back, pressed three dollars into my hand to reimburse me for her coffee, and thanked me again for the ride.
“I’ve just enough time for a shower before I climb into my uniform and report to the front desk. Hope I see you again during your conference.”
“Me too. It’s been great traveling with you. Good luck with your career goals.”
I checked in and was shown to the women’s bunkroom.
After cleaning up and changing into fresh clothes, I consulted the list of activities, said hello to a few of the women who were putting their belongings away, and made a call to the ranch to tell them we’d arrived. I also phoned my friend Mr. Henry at Albuquerque Motors.
“No matter what the repair costs, just charge something under five hundred. I’ll make up the difference, okay?”
“Whatever you say, Ms. Curtis. We’ll take care of everything when Mr. Esperanza calls.”
One problem solved, I hope. Now, if we could just locate Kim and bring her back safe and sound. I found my friends and joined them for lunch. Several months had passed since the last Society of American Archaeologists meeting, but most of my colleagues had heard about Kim’s disappearance and wanted the latest news.
After lunch, we went into the theater to view a series of videos highlighting future restoration plans for the park and showing what repairs had been completed. We settled further into our seats and let the aerial photos and the narrator’s Madison Avenue voice command our attention. Spectacular shots of Pueblo Bonito, Chetro Ketl, Casa Rinconada, Fajada Butte, and Pueblo del Arroyo, shown in all seasons and at all hours, were accompanied by powerful descriptions of life in the early days of the canyon.
“During the t
ime between 850 and 1250 BCE, the Anasazi, or Ancestral Puebloan People, as they are now called, made Chaco Canyon a major center for trade, ceremonies, and food distribution. Utilizing wood and native sandstone, they built multi-storied dwellings and dug rounded pits called kivas for important ceremonial events.”
Accumulated fatigue and the long drive caused my focus to wander. I was starting to nod off when I heard the narrator reciting a list of towns and sites within the Chaco Canyon complex. The mention of Una Vida brought me to full attention. An aerial view flashed across the screen, showing clusters of rooms and kivas, many in ruin, within view of Fajada Butte.
“Doesn’t una vida mean one life in Spanish?” I asked the person beside me.
“Yeah, I think so.”
My mind took off on a tangent of its own. One Life was what Holy Girl had told me to seek. The dream or vision had been very precise. Could it have meant Una Vida here in Chaco Canyon? “Mostly unexcavated,” the narrator on the video had said, describing it. There were “over a hundred and twenty-five rooms and five kivas.” I wondered how long it would take to check them all thoroughly.
Once the videos ended, Mr. Lydell, the park assistant superintendent spoke. We received booklets and a list of suggested projects for volunteers that encompassed the next five years. Preservation targets were mentioned, but Una Vida wasn’t one of them. We were told that there was an urgent need for skilled stone and adobe brick masons. Some of my volunteers had listed construction courses from the Northern New Mexico Community College in Espaniola. I made a note to myself to assign them to this important project.
We learned that future digging would be curtailed at Chaco in favor of less intrusive means of observation and discovery. Earth penetrating radar, magnetometers, computer projections, and other electronic imaging devices would make peering under layers of earth easier and less invasive for all observers of the archaeological mysteries that puzzle us about our past. Our trowels and shovels were destined for obsolescence, and it saddened me to think that Kim and I could become dinosaurs in our field. We’d advanced full circle since the days of Richard Wetherill and Earl Morris, who thought nothing of hauling railroad carloads of artifacts out of the canyons to ship back east to a souvenir-hungry public. Current efforts would focus on keeping Chaco, and all other such sites, as close to their original states as possible while shoring up the crumbling ruins.
Assistant Superintendent Lydell announced a recent discovery. After analysis, residues of chocolate had been detected in several tumblers found in Pueblo Bonito. It was the first evidence of cacao documented in the area and was over 1200 miles from its original growing site in Mexico. Found in caches, not as grave goods, it was believed to have had religious significance.
We applauded enthusiastically at the conclusion of Lydell’s remarks. He acknowledged our response with a nod of his head and segued smoothly into the fund-raising portion of the meeting.
My thoughts kept returning to Una Vida and searching every nook and cranny in it for my partner, if it looked promising. First, however, there was a little matter of a $50,000 check to present to the committee representative, followed by a quick photo opportunity for anyone remotely connected to the venture.
*
I passed the main desk on the way to the bunkroom and saw Karen talking with some tourists. When she glanced in my direction, we smiled at each other. She looked polished and professional in her tan uniform shirt and dark green pants. I checked my cell phone for reception and located a quiet corner where I could call Gina, leaving her a voice mail message about Una Vida. I picked up a brochure and a map of the area and was about to request explicit directions when the desk clerk beckoned to me.
“Are you Dr. Curtis?”
“I am.”
“Someone left this for you earlier.” She gave me an envelope with my name printed in block letters on the front. It contained a single sheet of notebook paper. I felt my body stiffen as I read the contents.
Hey, Lover Girl,
She’s been calling your name. If you want to see her while she’s still alive, come to the witches’ house. Are you smart enough to find it? I hope so. Her life depends on it. No Cops. Come alone, or she dies.
I’m sure you remember me. Think Wales… about a year ago.
I’m an old and intimate friend.
A roaring sound filled my head and the nerves along my spine seemed electrified. Terry Simms. Who else could it be?
“When did this arrive?”
The clerk swallowed. “I’m not sure.”
Karen joined us. “Can I help with anything?”
“I need to know when this letter was delivered.”
“Oh, I remember some woman dropping that off for you.” She checked her watch. “I’d say it was about an hour ago.”
“Did you recognize her?”
“No,” they answered in unison.
Karen noticed that a group of people had stopped by the far end of the counter. “Go ahead and see to them, Julie. I can help Dr. Curtis.” She walked me to a more private section of the lobby.
“I could overhear everything she said to the desk clerk. She didn’t leave a name, PJ. I figured she was part of your Chaco Preservation Group.”
“Can you describe her?”
“On the tall side. Dark hair, cut short. And I think she was wearing jeans and a navy or black T-shirt.”
“Thank you.”
She gave me a quizzical look. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
Terry’s hair was shoulder length and red when I last had the displeasure of seeing her, but she could’ve altered her appearance. She was, after all, a fugitive. “One more thing. Is there some place in the canyon known as the Witches’ House?”
“Oh, that.” Karen made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “The legend says that a skin-walker, or Navajo witch, maybe more than one, lives in Uda Vida and keeps victims captive on Fajada Butte. Makes them go without food or water, or so the story goes, then sacrifices them to the ancient gods by tossing them off the top of the butte. It’s just a superstition.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said, taking a pen from my shoulder bag and plucking a Chaco Canyon trail map from a nearby display. “What’s the fastest way to get up there?”
“You want to go there by yourself?” Karen’s eyes darted to the interior office behind her, noting the presence of a few male park service personnel. “I mean, John or Steve would go with you, I’m sure.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Karen lowered her voice. “Really, PJ, I know I said it was just superstition, but still it’s creepy around those parts. There’s not a lot of daylight left and you could get hurt scrambling around up there. Some of the walls have fallen in on themselves lately. You’ll see markers warning visitors to stay clear. I don’t think you want to go alone.”
“I’m afraid I have to.”
She sighed and pointed out a route on my map.
“I appreciate your concern, and if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll leave this list of numbers you can call if you haven’t heard from me in a reasonable amount of time.”
Karen scanned the list I had pulled out of my bag.
“I’ve already left a message on your aunt’s cell phone. She may want to get out here and look around.”
Twin spots of color appeared on Karen’s cheeks and her eyes widened. “If you want Aunt Gina there, it sounds too dangerous to go alone, especially in view of Dr. Blair’s disappearance.”
“I’m not sure of anything at this point, but just let me try my way first, okay? I’d feel foolish if it turned out to be a big fuss over nothing. If I sense anything out of the ordinary, any danger, I’ll come right back here to headquarters.”
She hesitated a few seconds. “I’m giving you one hour, PJ. If you’re not back by then, I’m coming after you, and I’ll bring everybody I can find with me.”
“Fair enough.”
*
When Terry had
released me from the chains, I collapsed onto the dusty blanket, lacking even the strength to crawl out of my own filth. She tied my hands and feet, but my condition made such restraint unnecessary.
Terry smiled as she watched me lying there. She’d amused herself, on several occasions, by kicking me in the ribs and poking at my breasts and belly. When she tired of physical abuse, she’d taunt me verbally. I braced myself for more of her insults.
Her comments focused on what she termed my once sexy body and how we’d been such insatiable lovers. Her detailed account of our lives together sickened me. How could I not have seen through her and her desire for self-gratification in our relationship? This woman was incapable of loving anyone.
Sometimes she’d switch her raunchy comments to PJ and her body, telling me how they’d made love in our hotel room in Wales. I knew that was a lie, but imagining it still hurt.
“Jake and I watched you two in your hot tub at the ranch one evening.”
When I raised my head at that news, she giggled.
“We used our binoculars. You thought you had all that privacy, didn’t you? We got off on watching you two skinny-dipping in the tub in the moonlight. And one time we followed you to a picnic spot. Do you remember that day? Nice basket of goodies. Warm sunshine. Both of you cuddling on a blanket under a big, blue sky. Before we knew it, you two got naked and went at it right out there in the open. Really turned me on. I felt sorry for PJ, though. If I’d been there with her, she’d have been breathless and begging for more. Of course, like a dutiful wife, she played the game and pretended. Such a pity.”
“Shut up, Terry.”
She shook her head. “She was a screamer that day, wasn’t she? Jake was so jacked up he about had a heart attack and had to go behind a tree to ease his pain. I’ll admit I had to satisfy a need, too. Have you ever felt like that, Kim? Bet you haven’t. You’re just too old. That’s why you’re not woman enough for her.”
“That’s enough! Just shut your filthy mouth.” I paid for my outburst with a coughing fit that sent knife-like pain slashing through my ribs.
“Oh, sweetie. Did all that sexy talk make you hurt yourself?”
Terry soaked a piece of cloth in water and squeezed it over my face and lips, letting it dribble down my neck and between my breasts.
