by Mimi Milan
“Is this me?” Kela whispered to herself.
Upon hearing her voice, Jonathan stirred. He groggily rubbed at his eyes and then focused on her. When he saw the notebook in her hand, he bolted up. “Uh, that’s mine.”
He held out his hand and she returned the book. “I didn’t know you could draw.”
Jonathan shrugged. “Only a little. I used to sketch our patients when I was in medical school. It was just something to do to take my mind off illnesses.”
She nodded her head at the book he now clutched. “You made her prettier than me.”
The doctor glanced down with a sheepish look. “No, you really are that beautiful.”
A slow, satisfied smile stretched across Kela’s face. She had never had anyone call her beautiful before. Well, no one other than Eta Noochoo and that was only natural. What else would a grandmother say?
Jonathan finally looked back up at her, an expression of anticipation marring his features.
Say something! A small voice urged her to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.
“I think you’re beautiful, too.”
Her confession caused him to grin. He seemed ready to say something when his stomach spoke before he did. She laughed and he couldn’t help but join in when it happened again, making even more noise than the first time. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m a bit famished.”
“Fortunately, I’ve brought something for you to eat. There’s more tea for Owen, too.”
“Thank you,” Jonathan said as he accepted one of the bowls. Together, they sat down on the ground and began to eat. “I stayed up most of the night with him. I was afraid he would continue to worsen, but he seems to be doing just fine now.”
“Yes,” Kela agreed. “Tuketu Wene makes good medicine.”
“I’d like to learn more about this medicine—the herbs that he uses and how he applies them.”
“This is something that I’m sure can be arranged. I will speak with him.”
“While you are asking him that, do you think you could request one other thing?”
“What would you like?”
“Well, it’s quite a ride between the village and here. I don’t want to move Owen just yet.”
“I agree. He needs one more day of rest.”
Jonathan nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to leave my daughter Olivia down in town for too long, though. I mean, I know Emily is doing a fine job watching her. However, I’ve already spent far too much time in emotional exile.”
“I don’t understand.”
Jonathan took a bite and slowly chewed his food as he gathered the right words to say. “After Regina died, I buried myself in my work. I spent a lot of time away from home—always caring for one patient or another. When I was home, I still avoided them, choosing instead to spend my evenings drinking whatever I could find. Whiskey or shine, it didn’t really matter as long as it took the pain away.”
She frowned. Drinking was something she didn’t like. It made men stupid. Women, too, for the ones who imbibed it. “And now?”
He turned his attention to where Owen still rested. “I haven’t had a drink in days and don’t want to start again. I simply don’t want to be that man anymore. Spending time with you helped me realize that. I feel like my entire perception on life has been altered.”
This time it was she who glanced away. “I, too, feel changed. Before, I felt like someone on the outside looking in. It has been difficult for me to know my place amongst my people. Only a few have accepted the idea that I would replace Tuketu. That is why others have challenged his decision, and why it was so important that I come to learn your ways—so that I would have more to offer my people.”
“I believe there is plenty we can learn from one another. In spite of all my education, it was your medicine that saved my son in the end.”
“Perhaps our medicine, your god, or all of it together. After all, everything is connected—even us.”
She had said it to mean a spiritual connection amongst all men, but the way he looked at her made seem far more intimate… as if a direct link joined them together. As he leaned in closer, she felt their tie grow even stronger. Insisting that she succumb her will, it beckoned her and drew her towards him until their lips met. The same warmth that she had felt whenever they touched spread through her, heating her body in ways that she had never known before. It left her both elated and breathless. It wasn’t until he pulled away that she began to feel like herself again.
“That’s disgusting.”
Owen’s small voice startled both of them. His father laughed. “Hey, there’s going to come a time when you might not think it’s so bad.”
His son frowned. “I don’t think so. Girls are gross.”
Owen’s aversion to the idea of kissing girls brought on a round of laughter from both his father and Kela.
“It’s good to see you’re feeling better,” his father said.
“Only a little,” Owen admitted.
“Well, that’s to be expected. Your body is still recovering.”
“It’s not my body that hurts,” his son complained. “It’s my head, but on the inside. I had a bad dream—except I don’t think it was a dream.”
Concerned, Jonathan knelt by his son. He slowly helped him sit up. “Well, what do you think it was if it wasn’t a dream?”
“I think I was remembering something.”
“Alright. What was it you think you remembered?”
“It was the day of the fire,” the boy’s timid voice quivered. “The day mom died.”
Jonathan settled in closer to his son. He wrapped a comforting arm around him. “Go on.”
“I was playing with Olivia. We were outside when she called us. It was time to eat. So, we went inside. She said we were too dirty and to go to our room and change. So, we did. I was helping Olivia when I heard her yell at someone. I don’t remember what she said, though. I only remember opening the door just a little bit and peeking out. There was a man. I thought maybe it was you, because his hair looked like yours and I couldn’t see his face. I wasn’t really looking at him good, though. I was looking at his neck.”
“His neck? Why?”
“He had on this strange necklace. It looked like a claw or something.”
“Like a bird’s claw?”
Owen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It had a shiny red ball in it.”
“A red ball in a necklace? You mean like a ruby?”
The boy shrugged again and fell silent, staring down at the ground beside them.
“Do you remember anything else?” his father encouraged.
The boy shook his head. “Only that he grabbed her and she started screaming. I was really scared. So, I grabbed Olivia and we hid in the closet.” The boy’s voice cracked. “Then it got all smoky and you came.”
Fat tears ran down the boy’s cheeks. He swiped at them. Jonathan held him even closer. After a few minutes, Owen relaxed. His eyelids drooped. Kela fetched the bowl of tea she had prepared for him.
“Here. Drink this,” she held it out to him, “before you fall asleep again.”
The boy accepted it without hesitation. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He sipped from the bowl and then looked up at her. “I think my dad is right. You are pretty.”
Kela felt her cheeks grow warm. “I am not used to such compliments. Thank you for your kind words. I believe you look much like your father.”
Owen’s face scrunched up with feigned disgust. “You mean I’m beautiful? Like a girl?”
Both Kela and Jonathan burst out in laughter. Kela sobered first. “Well, maybe not quite like a girl. You are very handsome. Is that better?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically.
“Good,” Jonathan said and patted his son’s leg. “Think you could do your old man a favor? I need you to stay here and drink up whatever medicine Kela gives you while I go fetch your sister.”
Owen’s eyes lit up. “Olivia’s coming here?”
“Yes,” Jonathan said. “Never thought I’d see you excited to see her, though. You must still be sick.”
“Aw, that ain’t the reason.”
“Isn’t,” Jonathan corrected him.
“That isn’t the reason,” Owen repeated. “I just feel like I should be nicer to her. That’s all. What if one of us got too sick—like Sammy?”
Mentioning the child the Mayfields lost had Owen hanging his head again.
“I’m sorry, son. You’re right, though. It’s important to be thankful for each and every single day we have. That means living it as well as we can and never taking anyone we love for granted.”
“Including Olivia,” the boy added.
“Including Olivia.”
Father and son embraced, leaving Kela feeling like a storehouse of emotions would explode within her. She was wrong about the people in town. It was true that some were bad—like the Mayfield man and the one who had murdered the doctor’s wife. However, she could not judge all of them by the actions of some. There were many in surrounding tribes and even a couple in her own that were less than honorable at times. Did that make all the Miwok dishonorable as well? She knew the answer to that and pride had her standing a little taller.
“Do you believe your son well enough to play a game?”
“What kind of game?” Owen asked excitedly.
Kela chuckled. “A spying game. I think of an item—something within sight for both of us—and you must guess what it is. You only get ten tries to guess, though. If you lose, then I will pick something different. If you win, then it is your turn. Does that sound like a game you would like?”
The boy nodded his head. “Yes! And I’m definitely going to win.”
“Always eager,” Jonathan laughed. He ruffled his son’s hair. “You behave for Kela while I’m gone. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jonathan stood and approached Kela. They shared an exchange of shy smiles. “Thank you for watching him. I’ll be back shortly with Olivia.”
A crack of thunder sounded from outside, causing her to shudder.
“Good journey,” Kela wished him well. “Travel safe and quickly I promise I will take good care of your son until you return.”
“I know you will. Thank you,” he said and reached out to finger the feather she had tied in her loose hair. Then he gathered his medical bag. “Just in case.”
Then, with a final look behind him, he left.
“Good journey,” Kela whispered the blessing again.
“Nope,” Owen giggled. “That’s not it.”
“Hmm. Is it… a leaf?”
“No,” Owen laughed even harder.
“Alright. I give up.”
“It’s the stem on the leaf!” Owen squealed.
Kela laughed along with him. “Oh, I think you might be like Coyote—a little trickster.” She leaned over and tickled him. The boy laughed even harder until tears filled his eyes. Kela sat back. “I guess it’s still your turn.”
“Yep! You’ll never guess—”
“Wekə' chatku!”
The screams that sounded next made Owen gasp. “What was that?”
“Fire.”
Kela stood and rushed to the hut’s opening, hoping that the situation wasn’t serious. No such luck. The most terrifying sight laid ahead. Several homes blazed in fury. Flames climbed higher, licking at one another. The fire started to spread to the corral between them. The horses kept there kicked up their hoofs, prancing with fear. The inferno began to engulf one of the poor beasts. It cried in pain and took off, clearing the fence that caged it. It raced through the camp, setting anything it touched on fire. Kela ran back to the boy she had sworn to care for. She grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “We must leave now!”
Owen jumped up and followed Kela. Together, they raced away from the camp like the many other Miwok, following them down to the river. Unfamiliar with traveling the forest, Owen stumbled over a branch and fell. Kela stopped to pull him up, a blur forming in her peripheral vision. It was only a brief moment, but she was certain of what she saw. Still, there was no time to tell the others so someone could investigate. There was nothing they could do now but run.
Kela tugged on Owen’s arm again. “Like this!” she cried and lifted her legs in a way to show how he needed to pick his feet up higher off the ground. Doing so helped them both run faster and they safely made their way to the river.
“Will it get us?” Owen asked, tears forming.
A crack of lightning flashed across the sky. It was followed by the same rumbling of thunder that had threatened rain all morning.
“No,” Kela said. “It will rain soon.”
“Not soon enough,” Creeping Cougar said as he and Ukchuu approached. “The village will be destroyed.”
Ukchuu shook a fist. “If I ever find out who did this, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” the warrior asked. “Drink him to death?”
Ukchuu growled.
“Stop it,” Kela demanded. “Both of you. Now is not the time for measuring the strongest arrow. The village will need both of you. Besides, I think I know who might have had a hand in this.”
“Who?” The men demanded in unison.
Kela refused to answer them, though. What she had to say was not for their ears. It was for that of their chief and Tuketu and the men in the town of Blessings.
“Tell Tuketu that we may know who did this thing and that you must bring back the man in town—the one they call Atherton.”
They exchanged glances of doubt, but their desire to pay back retribution outweighed any reservation. They would have justice. If that justice rested with the Atherton man, then they were fine with that.
Ukchuu stalked off to deliver the message. The Cougar pawed at his ears, a gloating grin spreading across his face.
“Consider it done.”
Chapter 9
The call of “Riders!” in their mother tongue had Kela scanning the wet horizon from the makeshift shelter she had prepared for her and the doctor’s son. It was enough to keep them dry for now and the deerskins she had wrapped around him were maintaining his body heat. However, they would have to do something soon. Night approached, and although the rain had died down to a drizzle, the temperature was falling. The last bit of smoke from the fire was wafting through the trees, and they would have to find better shelter before nightfall.
She pointed out when a figure came into view. “Look, Owen. Your father rides with the ukumatik.”
“Huh?” The boy’s brows drew together in confusion.
“The strong men of our tribe,” Kela explained. “They are like bears.”
She was right. Along with Jonathan were four of the Miwok’s bravest men, Atherton and another individual wearing a star on his shirt. She knew that to be the one they called “Sheriff Pete” in the town. They dismounted and tied their horses to various trees.
The Miwok men joined their chief while Jonathan rushed over to Kela and his son. He embraced them both. “I heard what happened. Are you both well?”
Owen nodded his head. “It was scary! Kela saved me, though. She pulled me and helped me run faster. I was like the lightning!” The boy pointed overhead. “Where’s Olivia?”
“Right there,” Jonathan pointed out.
In the distance was the faint outline of a dark-skinned woman atop a horse with a little redhead child clutching onto her. Kela stared with wonder. Beside them, on his own horse, was Ukchuu, holding the reins of Emily’s mare. Something about seeing them together filled Kela with emotion. It was like all the tribes of men had finally come to make peace with one another. It was a beautiful thought—one she hoped would carry through to the rest of the territory, and maybe even the country someday. Perhaps this is where it started.
“I spoke with Chief Mo Heesa,” Atherton said as he and the sheriff approached. “He told us what you said—that you thought it was Robert Mayfield.”
“Are you absolutely sure of that?” The sheriff
asked.
Kela thought back to who she had seen in the forest. “Yes,” she answered with confidence.
The sheriff sighed while Atherton stroked his beard.
“Why?” Jonathan asked. “Is there something wrong?”
The sheriff looked uncomfortable. He shifted from one leg to the other. “Kind of hard to say. Found a man that fit Robert’s description floating in the river yesterday evening.”
“What do you mean ‘fit his description,’ Pete?” Jonathan pressed him. “Can’t you just look at him and tell?”
“Naw, that’s the thing. Someone done…” He stopped and looked down at Owen. “Why don’t you go on over there a ways, little man? Let me know if you find any good sticks to make a slingshot.”
“Aww. C’mon, sheriff. I ain’t no dummy.”
Jonathan ignored the bad grammar. “Go on, son. Do as the sheriff says.”
Pete waited until the boy was out of hearing range before continuing. “Someone blew a hole in him. Wiped his face clean off.”
“Well, who do they think did it?”
The mayor and sheriff exchanged worried glances with one another. The old man nodded and Pete told them.
“It’s not possible!” Jonathan growled.
“I agree,” Kela said. However, she then remembered the woman’s threats of how she would shoot anyone. Still… “It’s true that the Mayfield woman was distraught over losing her son, but I don’t think she has the spirit to kill anyone.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Pete said. “Ultimately, it isn’t for me to judge. We’ve got her locked up until one comes, though.”
“But what about her children?” Kela asked.
“They’ll have to go to some families in town, I suppose. Mrs. Mayfield says she definitely doesn’t want them leaving town, though. Not after what happened to the little Dayal boy.”
“Dayal?” Kela thought for a moment. Then she remembered the Arroyo man from the mill had married the Indian woman with the two daughters. Together they had a little boy. “Yes, one they call Jagara. We went there and learned the family was sick. They sent the little one away to avoid their illness.”
“That’s the problem,” Pete explained. “They sent him away and now no one can find him.”
