As her breathing and heart rate dropped back to normal, Lexie began hearing voices. But they weren’t from any spirits this time, and they seemed to be coming from someplace else in the house. At first she thought it must be a TV, or maybe it was Michael on the phone. The longer she listened, the more she thought not. Someone besides Michael was definitely in the house.
Curiosity drove her off the bed and had her slipping into her jeans and T-shirt. She dug for her watch in the bottom of the waterproof backpack Michael had rescued from the trunk of her car. Seven o’clock. Wasn’t it awfully early for visitors?
What if it had something to do with Jack?
At that scary thought, she didn’t bother with brushing her teeth or putting on shoes. Combing her fingers through her bed head hair as she went, Lexie raced toward Michael’s kitchen. Clearly hearing his familiar voice by the time she reached the doorway, she skidded to a stop and plastered on a calm face for his benefit.
“Good morning.” The words came out as casually as she could make them sound while strolling into the kitchen.
“Ah, Lexie, here you are,” Michael said. He gave her an odd look, no doubt wondering about her bare feet and sleep tossed looks. But then with an almost imperceptible shrug, he introduced her to the Navajo man beside him.
“Dr. Ben Wauneka is a clan cousin and an old friend,” Michael said with a solemn face. “He runs a medical clinic on the rez. And he’s also a well-respected Navajo medicine man.”
“A medicine man—like you are?” Lexie was fascinated by Michael’s friend.
Dr. Ben’s long, walnut-brown hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck, and he had a blue sashtied around his forehead. He had the most penetrating eyes Lexie had ever seen.
“Yes,” Michael answered. “Though his practice is slightly different than mine. Ben combines his with his medical practice and uses crystals to diagnose illness.”
When Ben Wauneka turned a half smile in her direction, his amber eyes seemed to see right through her skin. Or maybe it was more that he’d found something inside her gaze no one else had ever spotted at first glance. Whatever it was, his steady stare made Lexie’s throat tighten with nervous energy.
But Ben’s look was definitely not doing anything to her in the same sensual, electric way Michael’s gaze always affected her. No, his was more in the way of someone who has just found out all your carefully guarded secrets.
“Is Jack all right?” The question just popped out when Lexie couldn’t stand not knowing if he’d brought bad news.
“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” Michael asked easily as he took down three mugs and began to pour. “Let’s sit and have coffee. Ben has a couple of questions he’d like to ask you.”
When they were seated at the kitchen table, Lexie found she could barely contain her jittery nerves. Why was this physician-slash-medicine man here anyway? And what did he want with her?
Ben placed his hands around his mug and stared down at the steaming liquid for a second before beginning. “Michael has told me of your ghost visions. Would you mind answering a few questions about them?”
As Ben looked up at her, his eyes suddenly seemed so full of concern it finally made Lexie’s body begin to relax. “No, I suppose I don’t mind,” she answered.
Ben pursed his lips, thought a moment, then began again. “I’ve read a little about psychic phenomenon in general. But most of what I know I learned in med school.”
He looked embarrassed. “I suspect what we heard there was not the complete picture—nor without a lot of prejudice.”
He shot Michael a sideways glance, then continued to talk to Lexie. “Those of us who practice the traditional Navajo Way
are very familiar with prejudice. When there’s prejudice involved, fear moves in where understanding should be. I’ve certainly known fear to throw shadows over people’s beliefs. I try not to succumb to that sort of thing myself. I would rather try understanding.”
After taking another sip of coffee, Ben continued, “Michael tells me your mother also saw ghosts. Could you explain what you know about her visions?”
Lexie shot her own quick glance at Michael. He was sipping coffee and only seemed quietly interested in what she would say. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. Too bad she didn’t read minds.
Sipping her coffee, Lexie took a second to wonder why she wasn’t more intimidated by these two formidable looking Navajo men. But she wasn’t at all. Somehow she just knew they were sincerely interested in her welfare. Which was kind of amazing when she thought about it.
Lexie took a breath and decided she might as well truthfully answer whatever questions they asked. Why not?
“The term used for what my mother experienced, and now for what I do, too, is being a medium. Mediums can contact—or are contacted by—people’s spirits from beyond the grave. Somehow these spirits manage to come back from the other side. And usually, they have messages to deliver or particular warnings to give.”
Ben nodded and added a thought of his own. “The Dine have seers—people who can foresee the future. Is it something along those same lines?”
She shook her head. “There are other psychics, with different abilities from mine, who can see the future,” she explained. “They have precognition. But that’s not what my mother—and now, I—can do.”
Michael banged down his cup and interrupted. “Hold on. You seem to know an awful lot about this stuff. I thought you told me you’d always hidden from your so called gifts, that you didn’t want to think about them.”
A surge of self-righteous anger rushed through her veins. “I said I put away the visions. I didn’t say I wasn’t curious about them.”
Ben frowned at Michael. “What else can you tell us about the visions?” he asked in a conciliatory tone.
“Well, I’ve read about scientists who are conducting experiments with mediums. Their thinking now seems to be that all actions, including thoughts and emotions, have a positive or negative energy. And such mental energy goes out into the atmosphere something like radio waves. Apparently, strong emotions don’t just disappear when a person dies.
“And I’d guess the energy from those kind of emotions can be picked up by people who are particularly sensitive,” she added. “Like me.”
Michael cleared his throat. Ben took a long, thoughtful sip of coffee. Lexie didn’t much care what they thought about her visions. She’d had them—and couldn’t seem to keep them from coming anymore—regardless of what they believed.
Finally Ben carefully set his mug down and looked steadily into her eyes. “You’re in a strange position here in Dinetah. On the one hand, you’re an Anglo and apparently here on a temporary basis. Ordinarily I’d advise you to say nothing about the visions and to leave as soon as possible.”
“But…”
Ben lifted his hand to indicate he understood her hesitation. “Yes, I know. The bigger consideration is your son. He is Navajo, of the Big Medicine Clan as I am, and will be staying to learn about the Way. That changes things for you.”
“There’s another consideration, too,” she put in. “I was told by a spirit that I’ll be given information your people will need. So I can help your nation. I don’t know exactly what it will mean, but I believe it’s true.”
“And not knowing totally what’s involved, you still want to help us? You aren’t afraid?” Ben asked softly.
Heck, yes, she was scared to death. But she gulped back the lump in her throat and shook her head.
Ben smiled and turned to Michael. “My instincts tell me this woman is not being used by the evil ones, but we need to be sure. Are you willing to do whatever is necessary to help her?”
Michael gave him a sharp nod. “Will you tell her what’s involved now, or should I?”
Ben turned his head back in Lexie’s direction. “If word gets out about your seeing ghosts, there will be those who believe you have evil allies. They’ll fear you, and perhaps even the evil ones them
selves will take notice. Both of those would be intolerable situations for you and your son. But there are a couple of things you could do that can help your situation.”
Lexie wondered if she was about to step off a ledge and walk into thin air. Man, if she’d thought being a medium was weird, these Navajo beliefs were beyond her imagination. She surreptitiously glanced at Michael, who seemed to be holding his breath and waiting for her to make some kind of decision.
“You must learn our ways and legends as soon as possible,” Ben began again.
She nodded at him. That part had already been decided in her mind. Eager to make things right, mostly for Jack’s benefit, she also realized she desperately needed the support of her in-laws in order for the two of them to stay on the reservation for any length of time. Lexie had to find the best ways to cement her recent and tentative relationship with their new family. Learning their ways was obviously only the first step.
“But before anything else happens,” Ben continued. “Michael will make you a medicine pouch. Wear the pouch in full view and wear it always. It’ll show your acceptance of our ways.”
“Okay.”
“The next step to take is for you to have a ceremonial Sing done in your honor.”
“A Sing?”
“A medicine man chant and ceremony, designed to bring you back into the natural order of things. I would assume even the right Sing won’t be able to cure you of your gifts. But it should bring you into harmony with the good spirits. And when a ceremony is done well, the People will more readily accept you amongst them.”
“Did you have time to act on my suggestion?” Michael interrupted to ask Ben.
“Yes, Cousin,” Ben responded. “I checked the archives of the Dine Hataalii Association this morning. You were right.”
Ben turned back to Lexie. “There are over fifty different ceremonials in our traditions and not all hataaliis can perform every one of them.
“What you will need is an obscure Sing, an ancient derivative of the Evil Way
ceremony. But the branch best suited for your situation is only practiced these days by one old hataalii, Hastiin Dodge Todacheene.”
“Okay. So let’s call him up and ask him to give me the Sing,” Lexie volunteered.
“I’m afraid things aren’t so easy in Dinetah, ” Ben told her with a wry smile. “There are people who live without electricity and running water in several areas of the rez these days. Many more do not even have telephones.
“But I did speak to Hastiin Todacheene’s grandson this morning,” he added. “The grandson told me his grandfather has been living in one of the canyons up in Monument Valley—near Stagecoach Wash—with one of the old man’s daughters. I was given directions for you to follow that will take you there.”
“That’s the area near the ancient pictograph caves that I’ve been wanting to take a look at,” Michael said. “We’ll go there as soon as we can prepare for the journey. Tomorrow.”
Lexie felt a shiver roll down her spine as both Ben and Michael sat quietly watching her reactions. Everything they’d said seemed so outrageous and different from everything she had ever known.
Yet every time whatever they’d said had seemed too unbelievable to accept, she simply remembered her vision of the angry old Navajo who’d looked like a dog.
Nothing could hold a candle to that in the scary, weird department, she supposed. So she would just have to find a way to reconcile her strange beliefs with their strange beliefs.
And try not to make a fool of herself—or die—in the process.
6
“W atch me, Uncle!” Jack straightened his back, tucked his knees under him and looked the same as any Navajo child who had been born to sit astride a horse.
“Good for you, Nephew.” Just a few minutes ago Michael had become holder of the pony’s reins, the stand-in for Jack’s grandfather.
Michael stood as close to the moving animal as possible, keeping a tight grasp on the pony’s bridle. But Jack wasn’t in the least afraid, and seemed to be thrilled to be in the saddle.
The three of them, Jack and Michael and his sister’s pony, were the only ones in the arena at this time. Michael’s mother had taken Lexie and Naomi shopping in Gallup for a couple of hours to buy clothes and new supplies, replacing what Lexie had lost in the flood. Jack’s grandfather had gone inside the house for a conference call with other chapter councilmen. And Naomi’s kids had not yet come home from school.
Michael would’ve preferred that he and Lexie get an early start on finding the hataalii Todacheene. But it was mostly his fault they hadn’t. He had taken too much time this morning locating the objects necessary for her jish, the protective medicine pouch made out of cow skin. He’d been overly careful about finding and putting together just the right ghost-herbs, flints and ashes as needed. Then he’d taken extra time saying the blessings that would give the pouch its proper meaning. He’d even slid in a stone fetish made in the form of an eagle, and hoped it would add to her protection.
When he was done with it, Lexie had dutifully pinned the pouch to her jeans’ waistband. But afterward, she’d looked up at him and seemed so vulnerable and lost that he had suggested they drive by his sister’s house to check on Jack before doing anything else.
The minute his mother caught sight of them as they pulled into the gravel driveway, she’d begun making the rest of their day’s plans on her own.
“Am I doing it all right?” Jack asked, bringing him back to the moment.
“Don’t hold the reins so tightly.” Michael showed him how to thread the reins through his fingers. “See? More like this.” It was the same way he’d been taught.
Jack set his mouth in concentration. And it suddenly occurred to Michael that this boy’s face had hardened in the exact same determined expression as Daniel’s had back when he’d first learned to ride.
Michael’s thoughts went into the past nearly thirty years to the time when he had been trying to teach his little brother how to handle a horse. Daniel had eventually surpassed his teacher and had become a much better rider than Michael ever was. Daniel was a natural.
In fact, Daniel had been a natural at most of the things he’d ever attempted. Bronc riding, basketball and women were among the things he’d been best at.
Absently running a hand over the pony’s silky flank, Michael got lost remembering the many times he and his younger brother had competed. And thinking of the many disappointments he’d faced as the eldest son being second best.
To Michael’s everlasting chagrin, their father often consoled him by saying he should be proud of his own accomplishments, and that he should be satisfied with the gifts he’d been given instead of wanting what Daniel had. Jealousy was not the true Navajo Way
of accepting the natural order of things.
But for a too-tall and broad-shouldered Navajo teenage boy like Michael had been, being the smartest kid in school didn’t count for much. Not when every other boy he knew dreamed of being in the summer rodeo or to going to the state basketball championships. Like Daniel.
Michael had been the “good” kid. The bright one.
Daniel was the “champ” and the “charmer.”
Fortunately, their maternal great-uncle had taken Michael under his wing and began his hataalii training early. That great honor had eventually given him back some of his self-worth. And later on, so had graduating from college with two degrees by the age of twenty.
Out of the blue, Jack’s knee seemed to automatically nudge the pony, and the animal picked up its pace. Michael was amazed at how the boy knew many of the right moves to get what he wanted from the pony without being told. Lexie’s son rode fluidly, as though he and the pony were already perfectly attuned after one morning together.
Michael put a hand on Jack’s back and felt the excitement running through his little body. Too bad Daniel wasn’t alive to see how his son took to riding.
Lost again in time, Michael remembered how hard he had tried t
o convince his baby brother to come home, especially when Daniel had married. By then his parents had already given up hope of their younger son quitting his roaming and playing ways. For years they’d begged Daniel to come back into harmony, to come back to the Dine. He had laughed at their old-fashioned values and called them boring.
But on the occasion of Daniel’s wedding, Michael felt he should give it one more try.
After all, a married man might be ready to change his mind and put down roots. A family might make a man want to reevaluate his heritage.
But Daniel hadn’t wanted to listen. Refused to listen. He was too busy trying to make Michael jealous. And Michael had too easily fallen right back into that same old trap.
Oh, he could’ve cared less about Daniel’s money and his exciting job with the oil drilling company. The clothes, the expensive Las Vegas suite, none of it meant a thing.
Michael hadn’t coveted any of Daniel’s success or possessions. By that time, he’d completed his medicine man training and knew the Way to balance. Michael hadn’t considered anything Daniel possessed worth giving up his traditional values. That is…until he’d met Daniel’s new bride.
The mere sight of Lexie had been enough to send Michael right back to his anguished teenage years. Right back into his old green haze of jealousy. With one look, Michael would have gladly killed his brother for just a chance to be with her.
Those nontraditional and unbalanced emotions had hit him so fast they’d scared him, driving him out of town in a hurry—even before the wedding reception took place.
Jack’s high-pitched, childish laughter suddenly brought Michael back into the golden sunlight of the day and out of the misty reaches of his memory. He swallowed down the lump of guilt he’d been choking on and reminded himself it wasn’t his fault Daniel’s son had no father.
But he couldn’t quite get past the guilt of still wanting his brother’s wife. So he did what he had done all those years ago. He put his urges and desires aside, trying to bury them so deep that they could never again see the light.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 99
