by K. T. Tomb
As he rummaged through the saddle, he came across a leather pouch with several large slices of dried meat. It wasn’t much, but it was satisfying after having gone without food for more than 24 hours. The paint seemed to be happy cropping grass in the small basin, so Parke pulled the saddle off of him and leaned back against it, holding Khaera next to his chest. They were in that position as he went back through the day in his mind and then began to wonder if he would ever be back in the second world again.
He knew that Naomi would be very worried about him. She had only agreed to stay behind because she believed – they had both believed – that they would be able to hear each other’s thoughts. Without that connection, she was sure to have begun worrying. As time passed, she would grow even more frantic. He wished that he could reach out her somehow and let her know that he and Khaera were okay. He longed to feel the pressing of her body against him and her head buried in his chest. He longed to hear the musical sound of her voice. Would that ever happen again? He had to believe that it would. He had to keep moving forward. He had to survive, not just for his own sake, but because Khaera deserved to be with her mother and live the life that she was born to live, rather than be raised to be breeding stock.
The old woman had likely been breeding stock in her day. Surely there had been others, other women who had been stolen as children and used for breeding. Perhaps there had been other women of varying ages hidden away within the city that he had never seen. It seemed impossible that a society could exist without mothers, daughters, grandmothers and granddaughters. He recalled what Hosteen John had said about the corruption and violence that had driven First Man and First Woman out of the first world and into the second. Was corruption the destiny of every civilization? Would the second world eventually become so corrupt that another pair would need to create a third world? The story of Noah which he’d learned as a child in Sunday school had been along similar lines.
The deep reflections, the soft sound of Khaera sleeping on his chest and the dimming light as the sun began to dip below the horizon made him sleepy. He would need to rest for a few hours in order to keep his own strength up and then they would need to set out again. They would need to find water, they would also have to find more milk for Khaera and somehow, they needed to find another portal back into the second world and home.
Chapter Ten
Khaera awakened during the night, needing another change and about half of another pouch of milk.
He was down to a single full pouch and the remaining half. He would have to do something soon. She would rapidly run out of milk. With no concept of how long he had slept and no ability to judge how many more hours would pass before the sun would make another appearance, he contemplated starting out again; however, he thought better of it when he realized that while stumbling around in the dark, he might bring them closer to their pursuers without knowing it and be greeted by them at the same time that they were greeted by the rising sun.
As he waited in the darkness, it seemed that the sun would never again return. His mind had wandered in as many different directions as a mind was able to wander during that time of eternal darkness. As annoying as it was to be subject to total darkness the way he was, it was far better than the first time he had been dropped into the kiva. He had gotten used to it, somewhat, but mostly; it was because he could feel the warmth and hear the breathing of another person. As tiny as she was, Khaera gave him hope and kept him from losing his mind.
When the first glow of morning began to appear, Parke put the saddle on the paint, took another couple of swallows of water and checked Khaera’s diaper before slipping the straps of the papoose board over his back and mounting. They moved quietly across the mesa searching along the rim for a trail that would lead them back down into one of the valleys below and the hope of finding water.
By the time the sun was sitting atop the mesa on the distant horizon, he had discovered a trail and started through the scattered boulders toward the red slopes, junipers and piñon pine trees below. As he was riding along, he suddenly remembered that the piñon pine was the tree from which one got piñon nuts. He rode over near one of them and rode around the trunk until he discovered what he was looking for. Within a few moments, he had gathered enough nuts to fill one of his pockets. That would do for him, but how would he feed the baby. There weren’t any milk cows or goats to be found and water would also become a problem for both him and the horse if he didn’t find some soon.
He continued along the slope, not committing himself to going too low into the bottom. Escaping from a valley was more difficult than escaping from the rim of one of the mesas, so he worked his way higher on the slope, heading for the sharp ‘V’ where the valley penetrated into the mesa. He thought that he saw a flash of the sun reflecting off water in the valley, so he was reasonably certain that he would find the source near where it cut into the rim of the mesa.
He was rewarded for his efforts an hour later when they came to a trickling stream which seemed to flow directly out of the sandstone at the top of the slope. He and the paint drank deeply from the cool stream and then he emptied the water pouch of the tepid water and refilled it.
While they settled into the shade, Khaera finished off the half pouch of milk and made another mess in her makeshift diaper. He rinsed it out and gave the other two a more thorough wash, then draped them over a limb in the sun to dry. He leaned back against a tree, cracked the piñon nuts and ate the sweet meat inside of them while Khaera slept soundly, bundled on the papoose board.
It was secluded, cool and relaxing in the shade beside the stream and Parke was tempted to stay put, but the problem of feeding Khaera was pressing. After an hour or so, he checked the diapers and decided that they were a little damp, but they had to get moving. He used the leather strings in his pockets which had been used to lash him to the pole to tie the three damp diapers to the papoose board in such a way that they could flap in the wind behind them while they rode.
He followed the rim until he found a trail that led back up onto the mesa, not certain that the mesa was the right place to be, but believing that being able to run rather than be surrounded was always better. Also, from above, he was more likely to spot a camp, settlement or something below where he might find a cow or a goat to milk.
It was while they were tracking along the rim of the mesa searching the valleys below that they were discovered once more by their pursuers. The chase began anew. The paint horse was able to hold his own and keep them at bay, but the pursuers had the advantage of numbers and they soon cut him off and turned him back onto the open mesa.
He rode as hard as he could, hearing Khaera awaken once more and begin screaming as they rode. As badly as he desired to tend to her, there was no time to stop. He simply had to keep riding.
Parke held them off, hoping that they would not be able to get a third group in front of him to cut him off. He was soon disappointed however, when he saw another group thundering toward him. There was one narrow escape left, back along the rim of the mesa and he turned the paint toward it.
As he searched the rim for a place to leave the mesa, he suddenly realized that he had been there before. It was just like his dreams. He was riding hard with the mane of the paint pony whipping up into his face.
He risked a glance back over his shoulder and saw the same face he had seen in the windshield of his car and the face of the leader of the pursuers. He heard bullets begin to buzz past him. Evidently they were no longer concerned about shooting Khaera. He leaned into the mane of the paint.
The spotted horse stretched his neck out and pinned his ears back into his neck as the bullets buzzed by them and the wind whipped past them. Khaera had grown silent, but there was no turning back or slowing down. He was in a race for his life. He saw the ledge coming up rapidly toward him and riders flanking him to cut him off. It was exactly the same as it had been twice before in his dreams. He recalled how his dream of talking to Hosteen John had been exactly the same as wel
l. It hadn’t just been similar, it had been an extreme case of déjà vu. Did that mean that if he leapt from the rim as he had in the dream, the paint would be able to fly?
He knew that he was taking the life of both he and Khaera into his hands and that an error would not only kill him, but her as well. His own death was one thing, Khaera’s was another. Yet, if he turned and gave himself up, he would be sending her back into slavery and a future as nothing more than breeding stock for the men of the dark world.
The rim and his last chance were rapidly approaching. He had to make a decision. Ultimately, he had to decide if he would trust the dream and whatever magic had brought him into the lives of Naomi and Khaera in the first place, or whether he would surrender. He had to believe. As the edge loomed closer, he closed his eyes, pressed his face into the mane of the paint and let go of the reins as he felt the horse make a final lunge over the edge of the cliff.
He awaited the inevitable crash and tumbling through the rocks and boulders below. He fully expected to feel his body colliding with the ground and then tumbling head over heels with the paint horse. After several seconds had passed and the feeling of falling and crashing had not survived, he looked up. They were flying, just like in his dream; the paint, Parke and Khaera were flying through the air. He ventured a look over his shoulder and saw his pursuers spilling over the rim and tumbling down the slope below.
When he turned to look forward again, he saw a shimmering in the air, similar to the water in the stone room above the kiva. As they passed through it, the dimness of the dark world suddenly passed away and he felt the full warmth of the sun upon his face. He closed his eyes and turned his face upward, spreading his arms as he felt the wind passing beneath them.
Just like he had in the dream, he felt the exhilaration of freedom and pure joy. He had not only escaped with his life, but he was flying. He was free, he was safe and so was Khaera. When he heard the sound of hoof beats once again, he opened his eyes and realized that they were running across the open desert toward the Chuskas once more. He could see the cluster of hogans in front of him.
He looked over his shoulder to make certain that he was not being chased. Seeing no one pursuing him, he pulled up on the reins and slowed the paint to a gentle trot to cool him down and then slowed him to an ambling walk. He was torn between stopping to check on Khaera and closing the distance to the hogan where she could receive the proper care from her mother. He chose the latter and was soon riding up to the hogan.
As he neared the door, he could hear her weeping. He dismounted and pulled aside the thick blanket that covered the door opening. She was hunched over, just like she had been in his dream. Her sobs were deep and they brought tears to his eyes. Just as he had in his dream, he moved forward, placed his hand on her shoulder and spoke her name, “Naomi?”
“You made it.”
She turned toward him and they pressed their lips together in the sweet kiss that he remembered from before. She pressed her body into him and they held each other in a tight embrace. After a moment, he pulled away from her.
“Someone else is here too.” He beamed, slipping the straps of the papoose board from his shoulders and presenting her fully bundled daughter, Khaera, to her.
“Oh, Khaera, Khaera,” she sobbed, working the leather bindings free with the skillful fingers of an expert and soon held her baby tightly in her arms.
Khaera, though certainly glad to be with her mother again, had several demands and needs to be taken care of, and Parke stood in awe watching as mother and child renewed their bond. He had seen his sisters and sisters-in-law tending to their babies’ needs, but it had never created a lump in his throat the way that watching Naomi caring for Khaera did. It was a part of his victory to see the two of them together and he felt the tears begin to spill over the rims of his eyes as he looked on.
He was a part of the reunion in more ways that he realized as his mind reconnected with Naomi’s and he heard the celebrations of joy that filled her mind as well as the sounds which came from her mouth. He wished that he could also feel her emotions, though he was certain that he was already able to witness them simply by the sight of the two of them together.
Chapter Eleven
With Khaera changed, bathed, fed and thoroughly kissed, Naomi turned toward him.
There was no question of her gratitude or joy because her thoughts had thanked him a hundred times. However, as she quieted herself from the thoughts about Khaera, new thoughts that were only between the two of them began to surface.
There was no awkward moment between the two of them as they came together in a deeply intimate embrace. Both of their minds knew the desire of the other. Their kisses burned with passion and the connection of their minds ignited them further.
His desire to touch the smooth skin of her body was matched with her own eager desire to feel him touching her. In moments, their hands and minds were exploring each other and reveling in both the giving and receiving of the pleasure their bodies and minds discovered.
The intensity of caressing, undressing, stroking and discovering the intimacies of each other’s body was beyond anything that either of them had ever experienced. To know the honest response of the person to which one was making love took love making to the next level.
They became so wrapped into each others touches and mental responses that they were completely unsure where one of them stopped and the other began. As he entered her, it was as if he also was being entered and each movement sounded through a canyon of pleasure between the two of them. As they lay together afterward in silence, the warm glow between them echoed back and forth until the two of them drifted off to sleep together.
Parke awakened, fully expecting to be back in his own world again; however, his surroundings told him that he was still in Naomi’s hogan. The feel of her warm body pressed against him was another pleasant piece of reality as well. As he lay in the dim light of the pre-dawn and it began to warm the sky to the east, he wondered if this would become his new life or if he would soon be whisked away. He had accomplished what he had been sent to do, if that was indeed the purpose of the dagger. He had little doubt that his time there was greatly limited.
It had all been impossible; the dreams, the dagger, meeting Naomi and Hosteen John, going to the dark world, rescuing Khaera and bringing her home. All of those thoughts paraded back through his memory with the clarity of one who looks back on events that he had lived through. He hoped it would never end, but he had no reason to believe that his life would continue with Naomi and Khaera.
He quietly slipped out of bed, pausing to look down to the angelic face of Khaera before moving toward the doorway to watch the sunrise. It was amazing how something so simple and mundane could mean so very much, and he instantly understood why traditional Navajos sang a morning greeting to the sun and why their doorways always faced east.
As he watched the first sliver of the sun break the horizon, he heard her awaken. They traded greetings and their mutual joy of the sleeping baby in their minds as she paused to look at the sleeping angel as well. When she moved up behind him and pressed her nude body into his back, the joy of the rising sun was as welcome as the touch of their skin upon each other. In a moment, they were making love once more.
There is no doubt that they might have remained in bed throughout the day, sleeping, making love and basking in the glow of their intimacy. However, Khaera had her own needs and Naomi was soon occupied by them.
Parke wandered out of the hogan and suddenly remembered the paint horse that he had ridden in on. He had joined the other animals in the pasture and was cropping grass with his saddle still on and the reins trailing along. Feeling guilty, Parke walked to him and led him back near the hogan where he unsaddled him, rubbed him down and turned him loose once more.
He wandered back toward the watering hole, recalling how he had only a few days before dove in, trusting that he would be able to bring Naomi’s daughter back. In his mind, he could hear her thought
s as she talked and tended to Khaera. He was learning to dim them, like background sounds, though not blocking them out completely.
As he neared the watering hole, he discovered that not more than 25 feet away from the watering hole, there was a deep depression where the earth had sunk. The cave would have been below that point in relation to the hole at the top of the stairway.
When did that happen? he wondered.
Not long after you left.
The answer startled him, because it came so quickly and then he realized that Naomi had been listening in on his thoughts and had answered the question for him.
I left the stone slab open for my return.
His mental response was more of his own pondering.
Perhaps that broke it.
It was her response. It was actually as good as any.
I guess I don’t need to know why or how. I’m here now and I’m happy.
This new form of mental communication was rather refreshing.
I’m happy too.
I’m happy enough to come back in there and show you just how happy I am.
Too late, we’re already coming out to you.
Parke turned and saw her coming toward him with the papoose board on her back and Khaera in her arms. The sight of them made his heart leap and he knew that he loved them both.
We love you too.
They passed the day together, a week together and then nearly a month together with Parke loving every moment of his new-found life. At first, he awakened every morning wondering when he would be swept back into his other world. In time, he began to settle into his new life. The lack of modern facilities didn’t bother him as much as he had initially thought. He had no idea what era in time he lived with Naomi and Khaera, but it really didn’t matter. The Chuskas were timeless.
