An Unearthly Undertaking

by Constance Barker

  Elle stared straight ahead. “How do you deal with that? I couldn't live that way.”

  “It’s taken a long time,” she said. “And I wonder how well I’m really dealing with it. I even wonder if I am dealing with it.”

  “You seem so calm.”

  “I’m processing it, trying to figure out what this means to me. I’m not just accepting it either, Elle. Now that I know it’s real, on some level, I’m trying to understand what it means to me, and my life.”

  “Okay,” her friend said, her voice trembling.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Back in the Real World

  By the time they reached the museum, Elle seemed to pull herself together. Charli couldn't tell if she was accepting the strange outcome or just ignoring its weirder aspects.

  As they parked outside Elle sighed. “Okay, let’s go in and see what’s happened, and what happens next," Elle said. "For once, I’m hoping your dream is right. If it’s been safely tucked away, then we can go home.” She wanted the comfort of her familiar surroundings, the reassurance of her uber-rational husband, Lester.

  When they walked in his office, the curator practically jumped out of his chair. “It’s back,” he said, blinking at them through his thick glasses. “The rattle is in its case again.”

  Charli grinned at Elle and saw her sigh. She wondered if it was a sign of relief or resignation. Probably a mixture of the two. Then she nodded at the curator. “We know.”

  “You do?” He gave them a puzzled looked, then shook his head. “It wasn’t there last night. In fact, I think it only got here just before you did.”

  “Coyote made a detour to chase prairie dogs,” Charli said.

  “What?”

  The man stared at her and she could see he was trying to make some sense of the comment. The fact that she was serious was, well, laughable. “I mean it returned the same mysterious way it left.”

  “I suppose so. Well, no matter. I guess your company is off the hook.”

  “Any idea how it was returned or who brought it back?” Elle asked, making Charli smile even more broadly. Elle still didn’t want to buy into the story that it was spirits at all if she could find another explanation. The idea of animal spirits clashed with her world view too much. She couldn’t even accept it as a cute idea, so she hoped for another story.

  The man shook his head and shrugged. “Not a clue. It just appeared there a few minutes ago. The guard came and told me.”

  “What do the surveillance videos show? Surely, you looked at them.”

  He nodded. “First thing. But there was nothing to see. It's the opposite of the footage of it disappearing. In one frame the case is empty. In the next it’s back.”

  “And no one...”

  “The room was empty.”

  “And that doesn’t make you feel any sense of awe?” Charli had to ask. His response both amused and somewhat bewildered her. “That seems rather miraculous to me but you don’t seem to think much about it other than it being slightly curious.”

  The man gave her a curious look. “Awe? What is awesome about it? It might be troubling. Fortunately it isn’t my job to determine how it was brought back, or how it disappeared. I’ll pass the information to the company that provides our security to see if they can figure it out,” he said. “Why should I worry about it?”

  “Why indeed?” Elle put a form on his desk. “So, if I can get you to sign this release. You can check the box saying that the item was found and the museum is withdrawing its claim...”

  “It wasn’t found,” the curator said.

  “Then unless you want to say it was destroyed or returned, or explain how it was recovered, then you’ll need to fill in a number of other forms explaining why it is no longer considered missing. They’ll want to know.”

  The curator scowled down at the form, then took out a pen, sighed, checked the box indicating ‘item found’ and signed the page. “There,” he said, handing it to Elle and looking extremely unhappy.

  “Raymond is a genius,” Elle said.

  Charli pointed at the curator. “You know, I’m surprised that you don’t seem particularly enthusiastic about having the rattle back. Is having it back a problem for you?”

  He sighed. “Not a problem, exactly. The truth is that this artifact is fairly ordinary; it isn’t a significant piece in our collection. So it’s never been much of a draw for the museum. It has no marketing pizzaz. Once it disappeared, the board was thinking that we could use the insurance money to purchase something more interesting, something that would bring people in. Maybe Geronimo’s headscarf.” He was drifting off, imagining his improved, more consumer friendly collection.

  “That rattle is far more important than you think,” Charli said. “Especially now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “First of all, you clearly haven’t researched it much; you haven’t looked into the way it was appropriated.”

  “Not really. There are lots of healing rattles around and some are fancier.”

  “Well, look at it from a marketing point of view, since that is your focus. It was the property of a Shaman, taken from him at the time of the Long Walk.”

  “It says all that on the plaque.”

  “So no one thinks of healing as magic, but it is. And I’d imagine that an Indian artifact, one taken from a Shaman, one that can disappear and reappear without leaving a clue to how it does that would be quite a showpiece. Especially when you have video evidence that it did exactly that.”

  His face brightened. “You think?”

  “That won’t be of interest to researchers of Indian lore and legend, but to the average person and especially the ones who study the paranormal, it could be quite a fascinating thing to see.”

  The man scratched his nose. “I see. So promote this disappearance.”

  “And reappearance. You could tie it into some Indian legend,” Charli suggested. “Something like Coyote coming for the rattle when it’s needed, then returning it.”

  “That has possibilities,” he mused.

  “And it leaves room for lots of competing conspiracy theories, such as people deciding it’s an alien artifact.”

  “Aliens...” he wrinkled his nose. “But pinning this on Coyote... that’s good.” For the first time he showed some excitement. “He’s well known for tricks and the Coyote merchandise in the museum shop hasn’t been moving well lately. Bringing him back in the news could be a big boost for sales.”

  “Especially if the authorities pooh-pooh the story but can’t offer a better theory.”

  He looked at Elle. “We could show the documents. Prove that we filed a claim with the insurance company and that the rattle mysteriously returned... of its own accord. Or, with Coyote’s help.”

  “Whatever floats your boat,” Elle said. The marketing theme of the conversation had lost her interest.

  “Fantastic,” the curator said. “Whatever you did, thank you.” He tipped his head. “By the way, you visited with the Shaman, right? The one who comes to see it?”

  “I did. Iron Eyes knows it well.”

  “But he didn’t take it, did he?”

  “No.”

  “And he certainly didn’t return it.”

  “No. He lives in the middle of nowhere and he doesn’t have any transportation. Friends or family bring him when he comes here.”

  “So he had to invoke the spirits...” the man’s mind was turning now. Suddenly, he stopped. “Say, did you hear about the shooting on the reservation?”

  “We did,” Elle said, stiffening.

  “I heard that the woman who was shot turned up alive.”

  “We heard that too,” Charli said.

  The man pushed back from his chair. “That couldn’t have had any connection to this could it?”

  “How could it?” Charli asked.

  “Well, I was thinking that because it was a healing rattle, it might play a part,” he said.

  Elle sn
orted. “Isn’t that just an Indian legend?”

  “And quite a reach,” Charli added.

  He laughed. “Of course it isn’t connected. I was just thinking of what a great marketing angle that would be. Suppose that when the woman was shot, she was taken to this Shaman.”

  “Iron Eyes,” Charli said.

  “Then Coyote steals the rattle and takes it to the Shaman who heals this mortally wounded woman. When he has healed her, he has Coyote return the rattle.”

  “And who would believe that?” Elle laughed.

  He sighed. “It’s a bit out there, but if it went viral who cares? I could do a youtube video showing the security footage.”

  Charli clucked her tongue. “You know what... if you just stick to the disappearance story, maybe someone else will come up with that connection for you. It would be even more effective if someone not connected with the museum spread the story.”

  “True,” he said. “A journalist, perhaps.”

  “And if anyone, a journalist say, contacted the insurance company, all anyone would be able to say is that the rattle was missing and then returned. Right, Elle?”

  “What else could we say?” Elle said. “This is all just fantastic speculation.”

  “Sure, sure. Nothing more,” the curator said, rubbing his hands together and busily hatching his plot, probably running lists of friendly journalists through his mind.

  As they left and walked out into the parking lot, the relentless sun shone down, baking them through a sky devoid of clouds. Charlie felt good, warmed inside and out, and oddly at peace. She didn’t know everything, but she had a plan now.

  Glancing toward the road from the parking lot, Charli saw a familiar-looking man. He was compact, with a mustache. He was standing on the verge with his thumb out. He turned and looked at her and flashed an all-too pleased smile. As a pickup rattled to a stop next to him, he nodded at Charli, opened the door to the truck and got in, then waved at her from the window as it pulled away. It didn’t have the feel of a goodbye.

  “What are you looking at, Charli?” Elle said from inside the car.

  Charli realized she was just standing there, her hand on the door handle. She considered telling Elle the truth, but her friend had been handed enough to digest already. The idea that Coyote changed from animal to man might be the final straw. “I was looking at the hitchhiker,” she said. “The man looked oddly familiar, but he got into the truck before I could remember where I saw him.”

  “As if you’d know anyone out in this desolate nowhere.”

  “You’re right. As if I would know anyone out here,” Charli agreed.

  She didn't want to lie, but Elle didn't need to know about anything that was just in her dreams. At least, for the moment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tough Choices

  When they got back to the motel, Elle tossed her bag on the bed. “I’m glad to start heading home,” she said. “We went through all this, and I’m not sure if we did anything at all. Things I don’t want to look at closely were definitely going on, but other than in your head, it’s like we just passed through the center of a dust storm and now it’s over.”

  “That is a good analogy,” Charli said. “A great one. Makes me wonder if the company will think my services were worth the price.”

  “They are already happy with you. They know you got us information on the shooting that I wouldn’t have been given if I was alone. I made that clear to them.” She laughed. “I've been the superfluous one. And should I point out that it wasn’t your fault the girl didn’t die.”

  “No, that’s fine. And now?”

  “I want to get a shower to get this infernal dust off, then I’ll call the airline and get us tickets on the next flight home.”

  “Okay,” Charli said. “I’ll shower next.” She stretched out on the bed and as Elle took over the bathroom, Charli propped herself up against the headboard and let strange thoughts run through her head. A line from a Robert Heinlein story she'd read many years ago was running through her head. “There is magic loose in the world.” And now she knew beyond a doubt that he was right. Until she came here her dreams had been strange, other worldly, even if, at times, eerily prophetic. But now. among these people, they took on new meaning.

  Her talks with the Shaman, Iron Eyes, and Raymond, as wonderful as they had been left her feeling empty. Empty of knowledge. Coming here had changed things. She had an uncertain but visceral connection with her family, her tribe... the lost part of who she was. That was clear. And she knew almost nothing about them... either of them. In her short talk with Raymond she’d learned more about her father than she’d learned in the rest of her life. And he offered more. Iron Eyes offered more.

  It was hard to acknowledge, but the truth about who she was, what her dreams were about, whatever it all meant, wasn’t in Tennessee. The academic life she led there wouldn’t help her understand and her mother wouldn’t help her in her search. She’d turned her back on it. What she needed to know was right here in this arid, sun-drenched place of mystery. Or, as the tourism board insisted, of enchantment, although she doubted they intended it to mean the sort of enchantments the Shaman dealt with daily and that flooded her dreams.

  When Elle came out to call the airlines, the conversation put her out of sorts. “We have to leave tomorrow afternoon,” she said, looking up from her cellphone. “Then it seems we have to stay there overnight because the last flight out will have left already. We seem to be in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Don’t book me a ticket,” Charli told her.

  “What?”

  “I’m not going back yet. I need to stay here for a time.”

  “Here?”

  “In New Mexico.”

  “Why on earth?”

  “I’m going back to Raymond’s house. I want to drink tea and see the photos and mostly, hear the stories. I need to see Iron Eyes again. Just being with him I start learning.”

  “So you’ll move to Raman?”

  “No. I’ll stay for a time, but there is more to learn elsewhere. When I’m done here, I’ll rent a car and drive down to Mescalero.”

  Elle sat frozen. “Your grandparents?”

  “I need to find out if they are still alive, still there. I need to...”

  Elle let out a sigh. “Should I take some time off and go with you?”

  “What?”

  “It doesn’t sound like it will be easy, Char. I’m offering to stay.”

  The offer stunned Charli, making her want to cry. Elle was more than eager to get out of New Mexico. It didn’t appeal to her at all and everything she’d experienced frightened her, yet the offer was sincere—it was the kind of thing real friends did for each other. “No, you go home. I don’t know what I’ll be doing, or for how long. I’ll just be following my nose.”

  “And your dreams,” Elle said. “You talk in your sleep, you know.”

  She didn’t know. “Well, the dreams too. But I can manage. If you stayed, I’d know I was keeping you from your life. And you are a city girl, or at least a townie.”

  “And you aren’t? I’d be happy...”

  “You’d be miserable. Being my road buddy as I drove aimlessly through the desert isn’t your thing, Elle. I love you for volunteering, but if you go with me, I’d feel pressure to wrap things up. I need to find out what there is to find out.”

  She nodded. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  Elle held up her phone and laughed. “They hung up on me. I guess I took too long.” So she went to her laptop computer. “I should’ve just done this in the first place,” she said. “One of the cheapo booking sites says that If I wait until the next morning, I can do a one-stop to St. Louis.”

  Charli smiled. “Which gives us a couple of days here in Albuquerque.”

  “I assume there has to be something to do in this city other than go to an Indian museum.”

  “I’m sure there is a lot to do,” Charli said. “We can chec
k online.”

  “And now, there is dinner to eat,” Elle said. “Since we are in the land of cowboys as well as Indians, lets go get a steak.”

  That, Charli had to admit, was a solid, unarguable suggestion.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, WHEN Charli and Elle returned from having a leisurely and lovely meal at a nearby steakhouse, Charli called Roger. She felt guilty for not calling before, but she was reluctant to tell him that she wasn’t coming back soon. But she owed him an explanation, such as she could understand her motives.

  “The case is resolved,” she said.

  “Hurrah. So you found and returned the artifact?”

  “Yes and no. I did see it briefly.”

  “Well, that’s an intriguing opening.”

  Then she sighed and told him the story. He let her talk without interruption and when she finished, he laughed.

  “I love it. It sounds like Coyote can be a lot more efficient than UPS. So you are headed home soon I hope?”

  Charli hesitated. The main reason for calling him was to warn him, let him know of her decision, but the thought of telling him made her stomach hurt. It was the pain of anticipating. She listened to him breathing, waiting, as she steeled herself and finally just blurted it out: “I have things to do first. I learned a little about myself, my family, my tribe, but it just scratched the surface. I need to follow it up and honestly, I don’t know what that means or when I’ll be home."

  Roger sighed. "I'm missing you already, but you need to follow your bliss. Any idea what happens next? Are you heading south right away?"

  "It turns out that Elle can't get a flight out that she likes for a couple of days, so I'll hang around here and help her finish the paperwork on the case. She's desperate to find a form that has a check box for 'appearance of theft resolved' but bogus. While we do that, I'll make something that can pass for a plan.”

  "Lonesone in Albuquerque. I wish I could be there with you.”