River Walker

by Cate Culpepper

  “You always should.” Elena’s eyes were shining. “There’s a story like that behind everything in here, isn’t there?”

  “Pretty much.” Grady couldn’t imagine a better morning than sharing those stories with Elena, but she was already eager to leave. She wanted to be outside, breathing in the desert’s crisp air, while the sun was still mild. And that urge had nothing to do with restlessness, for once—Grady simply felt good.

  She taped the note telling her students where to find them to her office door and ushered Elena out.

  The awakening campus was alive with birdsong as they walked among the handful of students dedicated enough to sign up for early-morning summer classes. Grady had developed a real fondness for this college and its widely diverse citizenry in her six months in Las Cruces. NMSU wasn’t small, but it felt almost cozy after the political in-fighting of other universities.

  Elena strolled with her hands clasped behind her, close beside Grady—perhaps closer than usual, as she was a guest on Grady’s turf. She wore one of her many light skirts and an old-fashioned white blouse, a unique style among the proliferation of jeans and shorts on campus. But Elena smiled openly into every face they passed and received more amiable nods in reply than Grady would have expected from sleepy students.

  The graveled rooftop of the Pan American Center would be hell on earth in four hours, but this early in the day, it still provided a cool refuge. The high stadium offered an unobstructed view of the Organ Mountains that Grady found hard to resist, and she wanted to share it with Elena. Her boots crunched over the gravel as she led the way to a raised cement slab near the east side of the roof. Grady sat on it cross-legged, a little appalled when she couldn’t quite suppress an uncouth belch as she settled. “Excuse me.”

  “I can’t crack an egg,” Elena said suddenly.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I can’t cook. My mother made our breakfast this morning. Not me.” Elena sighed and sat on the cool cement beside her. “I couldn’t tell you because you kept thanking me for cooking it, about a hundred times. I got locked into my terrible lie. Now I’ve confessed, and I’m once again free of sin.”

  “I’m glad my burp led to the unburdening of your heart.” Grady grinned at her.

  “I made the orange juice.”

  “And exquisite orange juice it was.” She let her gaze sweep the majestic vista, the distant mountains tinged red by the sun. “The first time I came up here, I thought you guys were kidding, with this light.”

  “Us guys?”

  “You New Mexico people, and your desert light. Look at those mountains. The Organs are a small range, and they must be what, ten miles from Las Cruces? But those jagged peaks are crystalline, like someone punched up the contrast key on Photoshop.”

  “You’re such a romantic, with your Photoshop praise.” Elena slid her arm through hers, so easily Grady didn’t even tense. “The mountains are beautiful from here. The Spanish who settled in this valley thought those peaks looked like the rising bars of a pipe organ, but they’ve always reminded me of my grandmother’s hands. Battered and stately and lovely.”

  “I can almost picture her now. Your grandmother.” Grady touched Elena’s shoulder. “You’re bringing her alive for me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Elena smiled and nodded toward the mountains. “Do you see that patch of reddish rock, at the base of the center peaks?”

  Grady pulled her gaze back east. Elena was pointing out a landmark she had noticed before, a tight grouping of small red cliffs near the bottom of the range. “Yeah, I see that patch. Does it have a name?”

  “It’s a special place. I’d like to show—” Elena broke off as a door opened behind them, and she and Grady unwound their arms and scooted an inch farther apart. They blinked at each other and laughed softly at their sudden transformation into guilty teenagers caught out of class.

  “Grady?” Janice’s voice.

  Grady shifted and shaded her eyes. “We’re over here.”

  Janice turned toward them and smiled shyly. “Hello, Elena.”

  “Hey, Grady, you brought Elena?” Sylvia emerged behind Janice, carrying the essential box of doughnuts under one arm. “Great! You wouldn’t make Elena take one of those death marches, right? We’re not walking anywhere?” She came to the cement slab and plunked down happily beside Elena, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad to see you, amiga. I have something for you.”

  “Chocolate sprinkles?”

  To Grady’s amazement, Elena was peering longingly at the doughnuts. Maybe her secret curandera super powers made it possible to accommodate chocolate sprinkles after a huge breakfast of chorizo and eggs.

  “Good morning, Elena.” Cesar sounded pleased as he joined them, water still shining in his black hair. “Hello, Grady. Are you going to tell us what happened yesterday?”

  “Yeah, please start there.” Janice sat on the far corner of the slab. “Hey, will Elena be helping us with this paper?”

  “I asked Elena to join us today for a few reasons.” Grady shook her head at the glazed doughnut Elena offered her. “First, she’s going to help me impress upon you that this project has passed into bedrock dangerous territory. And I think her input will be helpful in terms of where we go now.”

  “My being here this morning was kind of a spontaneous thing.” Elena licked chocolate from her thumb delicately. “We don’t know yet how much I can help you.”

  “First order of business.” Grady forced her gaze away from Elena’s lips. “No more interviews on this project, and no more field work.”

  “Man.” Sylvia’s eyes widened. “How come? What happened to you guys yesterday? On the phone you said something about being run off the road?”

  Grady nodded. “By a man Elena recognized. A brother of one of the suicides.”

  “Sheesh. Which one?” Janice fumbled her Droid out of her backpack and clicked keys. “A brother of Jaime Barela? We interviewed his widow yesterday. I brought our notes.”

  “Just a minute, Janice.” Sylvia looked troubled. Cesar, sitting at her feet, encircled Sylvia’s ankle in his fingers. “I still don’t understand what happened yesterday, Grady. Why would these men want to hurt you?”

  “Because she was with me.” Elena lifted her face and caught a brief, light breeze that puffed her hair off her forehead. “I’ve been trying to bulldoze my way through all this trouble these last few months. I thought if I stood up to these men, they’d leave us alone. I didn’t want to let them scare me into silence, to make me stop talking about Maria. But their fear is too great. They honestly believe I’m a witch, and that every witch is under Llorona’s thrall. They think I’m a threat, that I’m casting spells to help Maria kill them. And it’s not just me and my mother in danger anymore. I’ve drawn all of you into this, and these people are serious.” Elena was answering Sylvia, but she was looking at Grady.

  Grady may have enjoyed a sound and deep sleep the night before, but she realized with a pang that Elena had not. She looked suddenly tired, even in this beneficent morning light.

  “Grady’s right,” Elena added. “No class paper is worth risking your lives for.”

  “But we can contribute some really valuable stuff.” Janice sounded plaintive. “Can’t we just sign a release or something?”

  “If you had signed an employment contract for a field project, yes, you could decide how much personal risk to take on,” Grady said. “But undergrads, taking a summer seminar? No. After yesterday, I’d deserve to lose my job if I didn’t pull you three to a quick halt.”

  “But this isn’t just about the paper, Grady.” A crease formed between Cesar’s thick brows. “Elena told us we can help stop the suicides in Mesilla. It still seems to me that’s important enough that maybe we should take some risks.”

  “No one said you had to stop working with Elena, Cesar.” To her consternation, Grady was swept by an unexpected sensory memory of the sweet weight of Elena’s head resting on her shoulder. T
he light hairs on her forearms tingled, and she made herself focus on Cesar. “The best way to help her is starting the solid practical research we need to ground this project. Put in some library time. Don’t just rely on the Internet. We’ve got our two local interviews as contemporary sources, but we need a detailed history of Llorona’s appearances.”

  “Hey, if anyone’s an expert on the River Walker, it’s Elena.” Sylvia smiled and brushed powdered sugar off her chin. “You’d be a great interview, amiga.”

  “Yes, we can consider Elena a credible local source.” Grady glanced at Elena apologetically. “But she’s just one source. We can give her account due weight, but we have to provide historical perspective, too.” She felt Elena’s gaze on her face.

  “But will the two of you still be sticking your necks out talking to people?” Janice was watching Grady with a worried frown. “You and Elena. You guys have already been run off a road. What’s going to happen the next time a body washes up at the river? Will they come after you, Elena?”

  “Yes, that might happen,” Elena said. “I promise I’ll be as mindful of my safety as Grady is asking you all to be.”

  Janice still looked concerned, so Grady shifted focus. “All right, folks. Let’s hear about your interview, please.”

  “We got some great quotes, Grady.” Sylvia brightened. “We listened for the cues you taught us. Mrs. Barela liked Cesar and his good manners. She really opened up to him.”

  “She’s a sad lady.” Cesar nodded at Janice. “Janice, read what she said about punishment. Jaime Barela was a real assho—a real jerk, Elena, just like you told us the others were.”

  Janice consulted the small screen in her hands. “Here it is. Cesar asked Mrs. Barela if other people in her family ever helped her, when her husband beat her up. Here’s her answer. ‘There was never any help for me. No one lifted a finger. Now there’s no help for him.’” Janice looked up. “She never spoke her husband’s name, the entire time we talked. ‘Now he is the one who is punished. Now he cries out, and no one helps. Now he roasts. I spit on his grave, and on my knees every night I thank the dead bruja who put him there.’”

  “There was no expression at all on her face when she said that.” Sylvia stroked Cesar’s shoulder, as if for comfort. “It was like she’s already dead inside.”

  “It sounds like you all handled this with compassion and respect.” Grady was proud of her bairns. In the shiny light of the morning sun, they all looked older somehow, more mature. “Good job. I’d like a transcript of your notes by—”

  “Grady, I know of one other interview your students can help us with.” Elena was watching Janice thoughtfully. “One that won’t put any of us in danger. Janice, can you come with Grady and me tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure!” Janice cut Grady off before she could speak. “I can reschedule my biology test. I’ll take it today.” She bounced lightly on the slab. “Where are we going?”

  “And why aren’t we all going?” Sylvia said.

  “Where are we going, and why are any of us going there?” Grady frowned at Elena.

  “We’re going to talk to another man who has heard Llorona.” Elena spoke as calmly as if this weren’t news to Grady. “But he isn’t a well man, and all five of us can’t crowd into his bedroom. So only three of us will go. All right?”

  Elena looked up at her, and Grady realized she was asking for trust. She struggled for a moment, but the hopefulness in Janice’s expression wore her down. “All right. Tomorrow morning. But after that, it’s the library, for all of you. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, oh mother of us all, the library, we’re clear. Okay!” Sylvia grinned and riffled through her purse. “Before we disappear into boring research.” She drew out three small creamy envelopes and handed them to Elena, Grady, and Janice. “It’s in two weeks, so I know it’s kind of last minute, but we hope you guys will come.”

  Grady smiled, knowing what she’d find before she slit the envelope with a thumbnail and pulled out the folded card. She was right. The front of the wedding invitation bore a distinguished brown-ink rendering of San Albino Church.

  “Wow.” Janice looked a little surprised. “Thanks for asking me.”

  “Hey, you decided on San Albino?” Elena sounded pleased.

  “We did.” Sylvia’s cheek dimpled. “We had to fight our families a little, but we fell in love with that church. We went there after our sessions with you, Elena. We had to pay a mint to print up new invitations, but it was worth it. We want to marry there. Cesar and I have history with San Albino now, you know?”

  “I do know. What about your dress?”

  “Oh my God. Elena, you have to see it! I look like a big, sexy, lacy white burrito in this dress. It’s a thing of beauty.”

  Grady leaned back on her elbows and listened to them chatter, enjoying the sound, light as carefree gossip between high school girls. Sylvia and Elena had formed a quick friendship in the brief time they’d known each other. Sylvia was closer to Elena in age than Grady was, a somewhat disconcerting thought. Cesar had rested his head against the concrete block, apparently dozing in the sun. She noticed that even asleep, the big kid’s fingers still gently encircled Sylvia’s ankle. Janice sat quietly among them, a little apart, watching the mountains.

  Finally Sylvia patted Cesar’s head. “Come on, hijo. All the doughnuts are gone, since you ate four of them on the way here. We have to go to work.” Cesar shifted and stretched.

  “Do you have time for a short hike today?” Elena asked Grady.

  “Elena, no, save yourself.” Sylvia got up quickly and pulled Cesar up with her. “Do not walk anywhere with this person. She never stops!” Her eyes twinkled with affection, and Grady spared herself one wistful hope that she’d ever feel as happy and safe again as Sylvia Lucero felt today. “Come on, Janice. We’ll be in the nice, cool, air-conditioned library if you need us, Grady.”

  Grady waited until her students gathered their things and crunched across the graveled rooftop to the double doors. Then she turned to Elena. “Do I get to hear about whoever we’re interviewing tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, you do. I’ll fill you in.”

  “And do I get to know why we’re taking Janice?”

  “Because Janice is lost in the world and she needs you. Helping us will be good for her, as well as for our work with Maria.” Elena shielded her eyes from the sun. “Now. Your head is better this morning, right?”

  Grady felt the bump on the side of her head, and it gave off only a small twinge. “Yep, it’s fine.”

  “As I was saying. Do you have time for a short hike?”

  Time. Grady was behind on the fall syllabus due to Dr. Lassiter in less than two weeks. She had to take care of her half-squished truck. She had a stack of unpaid bills on her desk, in her dust-laden condo. “I’ve got all day. Where are we going?”

  Elena smiled mysteriously and nodded toward the Organ Mountains.

  *

  There was some doubt that Elena’s decrepit car could successfully deliver them over ten miles of increasingly rough road to the base of the mountains. At least there was doubt on Grady’s part. She kept one hand firmly clamped on the brace in her door, and her right boot frequently shifted to an invisible brake pedal. It wasn’t that Elena was a bad driver, or a particularly fast one, but even at a sedate pace, her small Ford rattled like a tin pail full of rocks.

  But the jagged purple peaks ahead kept looming steadily closer until they filled Grady’s sky, and she grew so fascinated by their contours she even let go of the door brace.

  “You see that?” Elena asked, pointing through her dusty windshield. “That vaguely heart-shaped spot, halfway up the left side?”

  “Yeah. That shape’s even noticeable from Cruces.”

  “It’s a field of red rocks, really striking up close, surrounded by this beautiful meadow. We call it the Heart of the Mountain. It’s where I wanted to scatter my grandmother’s ashes, but a plot in the San Albino churchyard won out.”
Elena cranked the wheel and her struggling little sedan chugged onto a wide turn-off from the dirt road. She keyed off the engine, then quirked an eyebrow at Grady. “So. You want to meet a different kind of ghost?”

  “No,” Grady said at once.

  Elena laughed. “You’ll like him, I promise. Everyone does.”

  Grumbling, Grady opened her door and ducked out of the car. She winced a little at the clatter she made closing the door, as if she’d let out a disruptive bellow in a quiet church. The desert wasn’t always silent, but the bugs and birds of the morning had quieted down, and the evening critters wouldn’t begin their songs for hours. The crystal air around them was utterly still. Grady drank in the peace of it like cool water.

  Then she realized Elena was several yards ahead, striding toward the opening of a narrow trail in the sagebrush. Grady followed, reaching automatically into her back pocket for the strips of twine she carried there for desert field work. She used them to tie the cuffs of her pants legs to her boots, lest anything crawly wish to venture up there. Those strips, of course, were in the glove compartment of her half-squished truck. Grady eyed Elena’s shapely bare calves flashing under the hem of her skirt and cursed herself for a weenie. She trotted to catch up.

  They were walking into the pale red rocks Elena had pointed out to Grady from town. The cliffs stood high and thick enough here to block the view of the mountain range behind them. The trail narrowed and steepened, and Grady found herself mesmerized by the slow shifting of Elena’s hips as she climbed. The sun beat down on their heads, strong enough now to remind her the temperature often crested a hundred before noon this time of year. She took out her bottle of water and swigged from it, then saw Elena stop abruptly a few yards up the trail. She seemed to be staring at the base of a large prickly pear cactus.

  “Ish,” Elena said faintly.

  “Ish?” Grady called.

  Elena nodded. “I’m sorry, but ish.” She pointed to the stones around the cactus. “I know how girlie this is. I’m okay with snakes, with centipedes, with scorpions, but these? Ish.”