The Sparrow

by Kristy McCaffrey

  “You trusted in something you didn’t understand. Isn’t that the definition of faith?” she asked, trying to put a positive perspective on the experience.

  “Faith in what? A wicked way to lose yourself from the world?”

  “Maybe it’s a doorway to a world we can’t see.”

  “Have you ever done those things, Em?”

  She’d been a good girl, never even taking a drink of whiskey. “No.”

  “You lose touch with who you are. You can’t possibly make decisions about your life from such a state.” He extended a leg and rested an arm on his bent knee.

  “But you found Matt.”

  “I got lucky.”

  Her temper snapped. “There’s no such thing! Why would you be so special to get so lucky? Do you think God has nothing better to do than sit up there and decide ways to make Nathan Blackmore’s life easier? You did it. You tapped into something else that exists in our experience. Why should you fear it? I, for one, am glad for it.”

  Nathan stared at her.

  Emma immediately regretted the outburst.

  “You have a strong opinion about this,” he said.

  She turned her face to the side. “I choose to believe in the expansiveness of the world. Without it, I’d go insane.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “What do you believe?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “I believe in the sunrise and the sunset. I believe in the nature of man to do harm.”

  “What about hope? Or love?”

  The fire danced and cracked, lighting the space between them. The only illumination for miles, Emma suspected.

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  She was struck by the honesty of the answer.

  Staring into the flames, she said in a low voice, “Maybe that’s all anyone knows. Nothing.”

  Caught in the boundary between two worlds as Emma was—one earth-based and the other in the realm of the imagination—a man like Nathan would never understand how it felt to live the schism of two perceptions.

  “We’d best get some sleep,” she said.

  She stowed her journal, removed her glasses then settled herself between her blankets, facing away from the fire.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she mumbled into the darkness. “Hopefully, neither of us will dream tonight. Good night.”

  “Night, Em. Sleep well.”

  She hoped so.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following day brought a late start, with two rapids to run and three extensive side canyons to explore. Emma kept her distance from Nathan, both conversationally and physically. They settled into an unsteady, though not altogether awkward, camaraderie. She buried her nose in Powell’s book while Nathan guided the boat through the quiet river.

  The canyon widened and the walls climbed ever higher. A beautiful cathedral of tan-colored rocks filled their riverfront view, nestled, stacked, and jutting to the cloudy sky above. Green dots scattered themselves across the terrain, showing how life thrived in even the most inhospitable of environments.

  Emma glanced at the magnificent escarpment. As if it were a valley where gods could live, the landscape resembled a giant parlor in a rock-strewn home. What would it be like to climb such mountains? A thrill shot through her at the prospect, startling her. It dawned on her how much she yearned for adventure, but it was more than that. In pushing at boundaries that always constrained, she was beginning to see just what she was capable of accomplishing. She was beginning to find a certain measure of joy in adversity—it made her realize she really could handle herself in the world.

  This gave her a confidence she had never possessed before in her life.

  “Is this it?” Nathan asked, breaking through her ruminations.

  She followed his gaze. “Yes, I think so.” She flipped through Powell’s book until she found the correct page. “This is the Colorado Chiquito.”

  The confluence of the Little Colorado River and the Colorado River was hard to miss. While the Little Colorado wasn’t a big river, the blending of the two seemed significant, as if the gods were mixing a brew from one world to the next.

  “Once we get beyond this then we’ll no longer be in Marble Canyon but in Grand Canyon itself,” Emma said, removing her life vest. “Let’s stop and explore a bit.”

  Nathan obliged her request, rowing them to the left shore where the blue waters of the Little Colorado lost its identity. Emma leaned down to splash water on her face and neck, trying to cool down from the heat of the day.

  “It’s salty,” she said.

  “Then this isn’t the place to replenish our water supply.” Nathan dragged the boat up on shore and removed his vest as well.

  “Powell explored this area. He mentioned finding several rattlesnakes.” She examined the canyon protecting the Little Colorado, the very canyon the river eroded away in its journey to get somewhere. Anywhere. A river only stopped when it was forced to end its journey.

  Where would her journey take her?

  Her own path was never that clear. A cosmic joke, perhaps? Gifted with insight, she was never able to apply it to herself. No, that wasn’t true. She simply feared the responsibility she knew it would take to manage such knowledge in relation to her own life. It was easy enough to help people she hardly knew. No emotional commitments, no strings attached. It was much different when it came to herself.

  So she ignored the whispers in her mind and her heart as best she could. But the deeper she delved into Grand Canyon with Nathan by her side, the louder the whispers in her soul became. Layer by layer, much like the layers in these high canyon walls, Emma’s defenses were being stripped away, revealing to her yearnings for a life very different than the one she'd lived for the last ten years.

  Nathan strapped on his gun. “Thanks for the warning.”

  * * *

  Nathan followed Emma as they hiked along the banks of the Little Colorado. When she caught sight of an Indian ruin, she waded across the river. Trailing her to the south bank, Nathan took in the potsherd-littered remains of a place obviously long abandoned.

  Emma entered the one-room dwelling with crumbling walls, crouched down then began to carefully inspect pieces of pottery. Her hat shielded her face.

  “I wonder how these people felt about living here,” she said quietly.

  “Maybe they liked being alone.” He thought a life here wouldn’t be so bad. Solitude, peace, and quiet—all worthwhile pursuits in his book.

  He heard dirt tumbling overhead and pulled his gun. An Indian man stood on a ledge above them, unarmed but alert. His shirtless torso indicated youth and agility; Nathan immediately sensed a threat.

  “Emma, get behind me.”

  She did as he said.

  “You are the white woman from the river?” the Indian asked, his English clipped with an accent.

  Nathan assessed the man. He wore a dark blue cloth tied around his head. His jet black hair reached his shoulders and his only clothing was a pair of white cropped pants and leather footwear. Upon closer inspection, Nathan noticed a bow and quiver full of arrows at the Indian’s feet, and a rather large knife strapped to his waist.

  “Who’re you?” Nathan asked, still pointing his gun.

  “I will not harm you,” he replied. “I have been waiting two days for the woman.”

  What the hell?

  “Why?” he asked the man.

  “An elder spoke of her arrival.” He gestured to Nathan. “But not of you. I do not know who you are.” He nodded at Emma. “Her. I have been waiting for her.”

  “What’s your name?” Emma asked. “What tribe do you belong to?”

  Nathan suppressed the impulse to grab Emma and get back to the boat. He wasn’t buying any of this for a minute.

  “I am called Masito. I am from the Hopitu people.”

  “I’ve read about you,” Emma said, warming to the idea of contact with the natives. �
�The Hopi have several villages in this area, don’t they? On mesas?”

  “Yes.” The Indian nodded, but still glanced at Nathan. “I will not harm you. You can put down the gun.”

  “Nathan,” Emma said. “I think it’s harmless. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  Reluctantly Nathan lowered his weapon, but still kept it in hand. The gesture wasn’t lost on Masito. Emma might want to befriend him, but Nathan knew a threat when he saw one. And the Indian’s gaze on Emma bothered him on more than just a safety level.

  “Pakwa spoke of a woman who would come from the river, not far from our sacred sipapu.”

  “What’s a sipapu?” Emma asked.

  “It is a sacred place, from where we entered this world.”

  “How did you learn to speak English?” she asked.

  “One of your holy men came among us for a time. I learned from him.”

  “Who’s Pakwa?” Emma asked.

  “A wise old woman. I have come to bring you back to us.”

  “How did she know I was here?”

  “There are some who hear the whispers of the supernatural with more ease than others.”

  Emma nodded solemnly. Nathan could barely hide his frustration.

  “Why must I go with you?” she asked.

  Masito stared at Nathan. He sensed the Indian withheld vital information.

  “There is a boy among us. He is very sick. Pakwa has foretold your help.”

  “A boy?” Dread filled Emma’s voice. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “We do not know. No one among us has the skill to heal him.”

  “What makes you think Emma can help him?” Nathan asked.

  “You are called Emma?” Masito asked her. “To us, you are known as the White Woman Healer, the Bahanas Healer.”

  “I’m not a healer,” Emma said, but the acceptance in her voice of this entire conversation alerted Nathan that Masito was getting to her.

  “Perhaps you have not tried to heal yet.” The Indian was determined in his quest.

  Nathan looked at Emma beside him. Her eyes were focused on the ground as he sensed her consideration of Masito’s request. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” he asked.

  When she turned her gaze to his, he saw fear, concern, and determination. “I think maybe I should go with him.” Her voice was soft, but resolute.

  “You don’t even know where he’ll take you.” A sudden anger flared in Nathan. Was she really so stupid?

  “We will not travel far,” Masito interrupted. “There is a small group of us encamped on the plateau. The boy is there. But we must go now if we are to arrive before nightfall.”

  Emma nodded in response to the Indian then turned back to Nathan. “You don’t have to come, but I think I should go.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated. I’d explain it to you, but there isn’t time right now.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know. But I believe I’m meant to go with him.”

  “The hell you are.” He wanted to shake some sense into her, but her closed expression told him he’d already lost her.

  “You’ll go whether I want you to or not?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He holstered his gun, but that didn’t mean he agreed with any of this or that he thought she was out of danger. “Then I go, too.”

  * * *

  “Can you tell me more about the sipapu?” Emma asked as she trailed behind Nathan. He insisted on being between her and Masito. She didn’t feel that the Indian was a threat, but she worried about the boy of which he spoke.

  “It is where all Hopi came into the fourth world from the third world.”

  “So, it’s a hole in the ground?”

  Masito nodded.

  Emma wiped at the sweat on her brow from the strenuous uphill hike. “Could I see it sometime?”

  “That would not be proper.”

  “Oh.” Emma concentrated on her footing. “What is the meaning of the different worlds?”

  “Our creator, Dawa, brought us from the First World, where we were insect-like creatures, into the Second World. There, he changed us into animals. Then he took us to the Third World and changed us into people.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  “Because we did not understand the meaning of life.”

  “Who does?” Nathan muttered. Emma frowned at him as he turned away from her.

  “What world are you in now?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

  “The Fourth World. Masau’u, the gatekeeper, rules this world. He is between the worlds of the living and the dead. He is our guide, but he is also the sentry of the dead. We entered through the sipapu.”

  “Why did you have to leave the Third World?” she asked.

  “There was too much evil. The people with good hearts rose to the Fourth World. Once there, Yawpa, the mockingbird, sorted everyone out. You shall be Hopi, you shall be Apache, and so on. Corn was passed out, and the Hopi became the people of the short blue corn.”

  “Does that have special meaning?” Emma asked.

  “We were slow in choosing, and had to take the smallest ear left. And so we must endure a life of hardship, but it will be a long-lasting life. While other tribes may perish, we will survive all adversities.” Masito’s voice held pride.

  Emma liked the story. It made an odd sort of sense. Lessons learned lifted people to higher worlds. Perhaps it was true for everyone. She hoped she had something to offer their ill boy. Would he be the same boy from her visions? The Hopi had known she was coming. Maybe it was time she had faith in the unfolding of circumstance. From her own personal experience, she believed in the power of the unseen.

  Didn’t she?

  Chapter Twelve

  A brilliant sunset played across the western sky as Emma followed Masito and Nathan into the small Hopi encampment. After climbing for several hours, they emerged at the top of a flat plateau filled with pine trees. A strong wind greeted them, pressing against Emma, but she felt she could breathe again. She hadn’t realized how confined she’d felt down at the bottom of the canyon for the past few days, and how much hotter it was down low compared to the cooler highlands.

  Watching Nathan’s broad-shouldered back, Emma felt relieved he accompanied her. A sudden wave of discomfort passed through her about what was to occur with the boy and the Hopi people.

  The boy.

  Unease filled her, and she wondered if this was some kind of test. She’d heard of such things—people who possessed great gifts of spirit and healing who were put through trials to determine their character and fortitude, their patience and courage.

  Was she about to endure such an inquiry? Did she have latent healing abilities? If she did, she was unsure how to bring them forth.

  The encampment consisted of several lean-to’s covered with animal skins, the ends flapping in the wind. Emma guessed there must be twenty or thirty Hopi present, and not all were men. Women and children moved about also. Several fires burned as the evening meal was prepared.

  When the three of them approached, the people recognized Masito but didn’t come forward. Instead, they all stopped their movements to stare at the two strangers accompanying him.

  As Emma got closer, she felt the scorn and jealousy coming from the women, mostly the younger ones with hair wrapped in extravagant buns on either side of their heads.

  “Why do the women dislike me so much?” she asked quietly, stunned by the strength of the emotion permeating from the crowd.

  “I’m wondering the same thing,” Nathan replied.

  Emma felt relieved. Then it wasn’t in her imagination, or on the tip of her visionary skills.

  Masito stopped for a moment and turned to face them. “There was one other thing I did not tell you. Pakwa saw something else. It is why the women in the tribe do not like you.” He looked at her. “You, Bahanas Healer, are also to be my wife.”

  “Like hell.” Nathan stepp
ed in front of her.

  Emma felt her stomach drop. Masito wasn’t the desire of her heart. She knew that with absolute certainty. To be joined with him would mean only one thing—she wouldn’t be with Nathan. Her true desire stood before her, defending her. Did she dare hope that Blackmore had feelings for her?

  “The old woman never mentioned you,” Masito said, echoing his earlier words. He stood face to face with Nathan, taking his measure. The Hopi man appeared taller than most of the men in residence, but he still fell short of Nathan's stature.

  Sensing they might go to blows over this, Emma tried to diffuse the situation quickly.

  “There must be some misunderstanding.” She tried to get around Nathan, but he was a sturdy wall to get past. “I only agreed to see the boy.”

  Whispers from the gathering crowd echoed around them. Powaka. A chill went down Emma’s spine. She didn’t understand the word, but the mood of the crowd told her it wasn’t good.

  Nathan grabbed her arm and dragged her several feet away from Masito and the Hopi people staring at her. He stood with his back to the gusting wind, protecting her, and looked at her intently. “This is crazy, Emma.”

  She hoped to God she knew what she was doing.

  “Who knows what these people will do if you don’t give them what they want,” he said. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed they’re a bit superstitious.”

  He held both of her arms now, the touch warm, electric, but also impatient and worried. Looking into his now familiar brown eyes, Emma finally accepted he was the one, the man from her visions, the lover who touched not just her body but her spirit as well. But the visions were a world confined, not necessarily to be released into this one. Life with Nathan wasn’t a certainty.

  “I wish I had more time to explain everything to you,” she whispered. “All I ask is that when this is over, you remember something.”

  “What?” He set his jaw in a hard line.

  “You must forgive your father.”

  She turned to walk away, but he pulled her back to him and for the briefest moment she wondered if he might kiss her. She would've let him.