Owl Dance

by David Lee Summers

Once there, he sat down behind a small, tidy wooden desk and began sorting through the morning’s orders. A large number of the orders came from either the Southern Pacific or Atlantic and Pacific Railroads. Other orders came from the steamship companies operating out of San Pedro and San Francisco. However, the vast majority of the orders came from the United States Navy.

  Ramon took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had come to Star Oil to see the future. Although he enjoyed his new, quiet job very much, he was afraid he was seeing more of the future than he bargained for—a future dominated by war and profiteering.

  He came upon a purchase order that brought a smile to his face. The postmark was from Flagstaff in the Arizona Territory. A short letter accompanied the order: “I am a professor conducting experiments at the Grand Canyon. I need oil for my research. Upon receipt of the order, I will wire funds to the account directed.” The letter was signed in big, bold script: M.K. Maravilla.

  Ramon looked toward the window and found himself wondering what kind of mechanical wonder the professor was working on. Was it another clockwork lobo, or something else? He also found himself wondering whether the professor could really afford to pay for the oil he requested. Still, he was only looking to buy a single five-gallon drum. Ramon decided to approve the order. If Maravilla did not pay, he would simply not approve any future orders. Ramon then finished going through the stack and tallied the orders and the shipping locations. He left the office, took the information to his supervisor, and retrieved the rest of the work he needed to do for the day.

  When Ramon returned to the office, he was surprised to see Fatemeh in one of the room’s two small chairs. “It’s a pleasure to see you this morning, corazón. What brings you here?”

  Fatemeh stood and put her arms around Ramon. As best as he could, Ramon set the papers down on the desk, then returned the embrace.

  “I just received an answer from Eduardo,” said Fatemeh, taking a step backward.

  Ramon moved around the desk. “That’s great news! When will he and Alicia be out?”

  “They’re not coming out to California,” said Fatemeh. “They want us to return to Palomas Hot Springs. Apparently there’s trouble at Fort McRae.”

  Chapter Ten

  The Breakdown

  “What kind of trouble?” Ramon’s eyebrows came together.

  Fatemeh read the telegram. “It says, ‘Major Johnson at Fort McRae requests urgent assistance, stop. Supplies from Lincoln County disrupted, stop. The Major asked for you and Fatima personally.’ He spelled my name wrong...” She scowled.

  “Never mind that,” said Ramon with a wave of his hand. “Go on.”

  “‘Please come at once.’ That’s the end of the telegram.”

  Ramon sighed and dropped into the chair behind his desk and looked outside. “Lincoln County…that’s a real mess. From what I understand there’s been trouble brewing between some of the ranchers. One side or the other has probably found some hired guns to disrupt shipments.”

  Fatemeh sat down in the chair across the desk from Ramon. “So, why would he ask for our help? When I was in Silver City, Dan Tucker was helping the soldiers at Fort Grant. Couldn’t the major get help from one of the local sheriffs?”

  Ramon smiled at the mention of Dangerous Dan Tucker. “He’s a good man.” The former sheriff pursed his lips and thought. “Lincoln County’s sheriff is a man named Brady. He’s pretty tight with one of the big ranchers—a businessman named Murphy. Could be he’s mixed up in what’s going on somehow.”

  “Like Sheriff Hillerman and Randolph Dalton.”

  “Possibly, or it could just be a problem of the county’s size. Lincoln County is huge.” Ramon pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “Either way, Major Johnson might not get much help from the law out that way and he really doesn’t have the authority to investigate on his own.”

  “So he wants someone he can trust—someone who helped him before.”

  “That’s the way it seems.” Ramon folded his arms and nodded.

  They sat in silence for a time. When Fatemeh didn’t say anything, Ramon started sorting out the papers he’d brought with him, getting his work lined up for the day. It was easy work that wouldn’t get him shot at, and yet somehow rather dull work. He wondered briefly whether he could be a clerk forever, or even very long. A part of him wanted to go back and investigate the trouble at Fort McRae, but he also heard a warning voice in the back of his mind. The two sets of thoughts warred with each other and kept him from answering right away.

  “I think we should go,” said Fatemeh after a few minutes.

  Ramon looked up and blinked. “You can’t be serious.” The statement came from both the warning voice and from his perception of what Fatemeh would want.

  “They’ve asked for our help. Do you think we can help them?” pressed Fatemeh.

  Ramon set down a sheaf of papers and sat back. “Look, if I went back to New Mexico, there’s a very good chance I’d get caught by Randolph Dalton’s men again and be right back where you found me in that mine.” He turned and looked out at the pine trees through the window. “Besides, you wanted to find out who we are together during the quiet times. We really haven’t been able to do that.”

  Fatemeh smiled. “Yes, Ramon, but does it matter who we are together in the quiet times if we can’t show courage when our family and friends call on us to help?” When Ramon continued looking out the window, she leaned forward and put her hand on his forearm. “Besides, even if Major Johnson can’t investigate, don’t you think the U.S. Army could keep you from falling into Dalton’s hands if they didn’t want you there?”

  Ramon turned and looked into Fatemeh’s eyes. “That’s probably true, but what if the telegram really isn’t from Eduardo? What if it’s some kind of ruse from Dalton?”

  “How would Dalton have any idea where to find you?”

  Ramon shuddered. “I hate to think about that.”

  “If Dalton’s men somehow found out from Eduardo and Alicia where we are, don’t we still need to go—to help them?”

  Ramon nodded slowly. “As always, you’re right on all counts, corazón.” He looked wistfully out at the trees again. “I was beginning to like it here.”

  “So was I,” she said. “But you know what? If we go back, maybe once we sort everything out, we can go to Estancia and meet your mother. We can find out what she thinks of me.”

  “I have no doubt my mother would think you’re just as much of a pain in the ass as I think you are.” Ramon shook his head.

  “That’s what Dangerous Dan Tucker said about me,” said Fatemeh with a grin. “I think I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  Ramon snorted, but smiled. “Why don’t you go check on train prices and find the quickest way for us to get back to New Mexico? I’ll get done what I can here and then talk to my boss and see if I can take leave this soon, or if I’m just going to have to quit.”

  “Whatever the answer, I’m sure it’s God’s will for us.” Fatemeh walked around the desk and kissed him.

  “God’s will always seemed easier when I went to Mass and heard it in Latin.”

  “Of course. When it was in Latin, you didn’t understand what God was saying.”

  << >>

  “Leave time! You want leave time?” Ramon’s supervisor, Jacob Kelly, was red-faced. “You’ve only been working here three weeks!”

  “Hasn’t my work been good?” asked Ramon, taken aback by his supervisor’s reaction.

  Kelly scowled at him. “It’s been fine, but I can’t believe you’d expect me to give you leave this soon, especially when you can’t tell me what it’s for.” He shook his head. “I should have known better than hire a Mexican, no matter how good your references were.”

  Ramon straightened at those words. “I am not a Mexican, I’m an American citizen. My dad died keeping the Union together.”

  “Well, you sure can’t tell it by the color of your skin or that accent of yours.” The cruel words
seemed incongruous coming from the scarecrow of a man wearing half-moon spectacles.

  “In that case, I’ll be cleaning out my desk,” growled Ramon. “I won’t bother coming back.”

  “You owe us two weeks’ notice, Mr. Morales.”

  “I don’t owe the likes of you nothing!” Ramon turned around and stormed toward his office, snatching a satchel from a hook as he passed. When he entered, he tossed his few personal belongings into the satchel. Once he was finished, he looked up and saw Jacob Kelly in the doorway.

  “What’s so important that you have to leave right now anyway, Morales? Can’t you at least tell me something?”

  “Our government has asked for my help,” spat Ramon. “That would be the United States Government, I might add. Good day.” He pushed past Jacob Kelly and strode down the street to the rooming house where he lived.

  Going upstairs, he found Fatemeh in her room. Her lone satchel was packed. She smiled when she saw Ramon, but the smile melted when she saw his expression. “Things didn’t go well, did they?”

  Ramon shook his head and dropped onto the bed next to Fatemeh’s bag. “It seems I can’t help anyone these days without pissing off someone else. I’m getting tired of it.”

  Fatemeh sat next to him. She put her arm around his shoulders. “Are you having second thoughts about going?”

  “Not at all.” Ramon turned toward Fatemeh, but looked down at the bed coverings. “It’s just that I find myself wondering more and more about why you came here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you came.” He glanced up for a moment, then looked down at his hands again. “But is America really better than Persia?”

  Ramon had a hard time reading Fatemeh’s shallow smile. It seemed at once a little sad and a little wistful. “Is anyplace really better than any other place? I fled Persia because if I stayed, I’d likely die, but I would like to go back one day and at least visit. I’d like to see if I could heal some old wounds. I am a curandera after all.”

  “I would like to go with you, if you went back.”

  “And for that reason I’m glad I came to America,” said Fatemeh. “America is far from perfect, but there are many people here who realize that and are working to make things better.” She lifted his chin and Ramon found himself looking into her earnest, green eyes. “You’re one of those people who wants to make things better.” She gave him a deep kiss.

  When they parted, he nodded. “I think we may be finding out who we are during the quiet times, even when things are crazy, eh, corazón?”

  Fatemeh smiled, then looked at a clock on the wall. “Speaking of crazy, you should get packed. I spoke to the man at the telegraph office. He said if we can get to Union Station this afternoon, we can catch the Atlantic and Pacific into Albuquerque. There’s a stagecoach passing through in half an hour, heading that direction.”

  “Did you send a telegram to Eduardo?” Ramon started toward the door.

  “I did. I’m hoping we’ll have an answer when we get back to the office.”

  Like Fatemeh, Ramon didn’t have many belongings to pack. They had yet to buy many clothes since their arrival in Newhall. A few minutes later, with their satchels over their shoulders, Ramon and Fatemeh went to the lobby, checked out, and walked to the telegraph office.

  The man behind the counter wore a green visor, suspenders and no jacket. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. “Ah, good to see you, Miss Karimi. I just received an answer to your telegram.” He handed her a slip of paper.

  She read it and handed it to Ramon. He set down his satchel and read the slip of paper, nodding approvingly. “The major must be serious about needing our help. Sounds like he’ll be sending some men to meet us.”

  Fatemeh turned toward the clerk. “Did we make it in time for the stage?”

  “Just,” said the clerk, looking out the window. “It’s rolling up right now.”

  As they stepped outside, Ramon saw Jacob Kelly from the refinery running toward them. Ramon’s gut clenched. Gathering his wits, he paid the stagecoach driver and hurriedly handed up his satchel along with Fatemeh’s. Kelly approached just as Ramon and Fatemeh were climbing aboard the coach. He was out of breath.

  “Good, I caught you,” said Ramon’s former supervisor as he gulped for air.

  “I think we’ve said everything that needs saying,” said Ramon, sharply.

  “I just received a telegram over at the refinery from a Major Johnson in New Mexico Territory. I wanted to catch you before you left so I could apologize for the way I acted. You’re welcome back when you’ve finished your business for the army.”

  Ramon’s mouth fell open for a moment, but he quickly closed it and swallowed. He stepped out of the coach and held out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Kelly.”

  Kelly returned the handshake.

  “Mr. Kelly, I appreciate that you came out here once you heard from Fort McRae, but I think you need to understand that you can’t tell a patriotic American by the color of his skin.”

  Kelly frowned, but tipped his hat. “Good words and I’ll certainly give it some thought.”

  “You do that.” Ramon stepped back into the coach and closed the door. With a lurch, the stagecoach took off down the street.

  Ramon turned and looked at Fatemeh. “I still don’t like how he jumped to conclusions or acted like an ass, but maybe you’re right. Maybe people here can learn and improve themselves.”

  “I only hope that can become true everywhere.”

  << >>

  The next day, after breakfast in the train’s dining car, Ramon and Fatemeh returned to their seats in the coach car. She watched the scenery for a while—mostly flat, barren countryside—then leaned her head on Ramon’s shoulder. It was strong and somehow being next to him was growing more comfortable as time passed. Different as their backgrounds were, they were also a lot alike. With those thoughts in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

  Not long after, or so it seemed to her, there was a sudden lurch and she fell forward, hitting her head on the seat in front of her. Blinking a few times, she saw Ramon was rubbing his head. Apparently, whatever happened had also caught him off guard.

  The terrain had changed outside. Instead of barren countryside, they were in more forested country. Moreover, the train had stopped moving. “What happened?” Fatemeh managed at last.

  “I’m not sure. We both dozed off.” Ramon put his glasses back on. He looked outside, then he took out his pocket watch and studied it for a moment. “It’s about ten in the morning. We must be pretty close to Flagstaff.”

  Similar conversations started up around the coach car as people wondered where they were and what was going on. A few minutes went by and then a door opened at one end of the coach. The conductor entered and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears the locomotive threw one of its piston rods. We’re going to have to get some materials out here to fix the damage. At this point, I’m not sure how long it’s going to take. At a minimum, we’ll be here until tomorrow. I’m afraid though, it’ll be more like two days before we’re under way again.”

  There was collective grumbling up and down the car. The conductor held up his hands. “We’ll get you to your destination as soon as possible, even if we have to bring another locomotive out from Los Angeles or Albuquerque, but even that will take more than a day. The good news is that Flagstaff is only five miles away. We’ll put you up in a hotel there until we have some news. Pack up your belongings and meet me at the side of the car in fifteen minutes.” With that, the conductor started making his way through the car and the grumbling resumed.

  Ramon stopped the conductor as he passed. “Excuse me, sir. How far is the Grand Canyon from Flagstaff?”

  “Thinking about visiting while we’re stopped?”

  “If there’s time,”

  The conductor shrugged. “It’s about sixty miles northwest of here. I bet you could make it up and back before we’re ready to go again if you rent a couple of horses in town.”

&n
bsp; “Thanks.” Ramon let the conductor go on his way.

  “Do you have something in mind?” Fatemeh yawned, then did her best to straighten her hair.

  Ramon retrieved their satchels from the overhead luggage rack, taking his time before answering. “I’ve heard the Grand Canyon’s really spectacular. I thought since we’re stuck here for a little while, it might be kind of interesting to see it.”

  Fatemeh inclined her head. “I’d like to, but don’t you think we should stay close to the others in case the train is ready to go sooner than expected? The major’s expecting us in New Mexico, after all.”

  Ramon tossed his satchel over his shoulder and stepped aside so Fatemeh could enter the aisle. She grabbed her satchel and the two clambered out of the rail coach and met with the other people gathered alongside the train. The conductor and his assistants counted the people assembled. Apparently satisfied everyone was accounted for, they began the five-mile walk to Flagstaff.

  The air was cold as they walked and a dusting of snow covered the ground. Fatemeh retrieved a coat from her satchel and buttoned it up. “I think a nice warm hotel room will feel really good after this walk.”

  Ramon frowned. “Then I take it you don’t want to go to the canyon.”

  Fatemeh shrugged. “It seems like we could come back at a better time of year.” She studied him for a moment and found his expression unreadable. “So, why all the interest in the canyon?”

  Ramon remained silent for a time. “Just before you came into my office yesterday morning, I discovered Professor Maravilla is doing some work at the Grand Canyon. I thought it might be interesting to see what he’s up to.”

  Fatemeh’s eyes widened. “That would be interesting to see.” For a moment, Ramon’s lips turned down and she thought she might have hurt him with her enthusiasm. “I didn’t get the impression you cared much for Professor Maravilla,” she observed.

  “I can’t rightly say he’s my favorite person,” agreed Ramon. “I’m not even sure we’d be able to find him—the canyon’s a big place, after all—but the professor is one of the people I’ve met who seems interested in building the future. I’d kind of like to see what he’s up to if we’re able. I don’t know what will happen when we get to New Mexico. It might prove to be something easy to sort out or we might get into a big mess. Either way, getting another glimpse of the future might just get me through the coming days.”