The trail was broad, with plenty of room for the ATV. From the trailhead, their route took a wide series of switchbacks through the desert, straightening when it reached the canyon. The red limestone rose taller on each side of them. In only a few minutes of driving they’d become cliffs, and Santana tapped Thomas on the shoulder, pointing. Thomas nodded. He’d already seen it. A big silver trailer up on a ledge, gleaming in the light of the lowering sun. How the hell had anybody gotten something that big up there?
He killed the engine of the ATV and the two of them got off. In the sudden silence they could hear a couple of guitars playing. One played a droning rhythm that sounded like the drum beat of a powwow round dance, while the other played the chorus of voices that would normally have added to the drums.
Santana smiled. “That is so cool,” she said.
Thomas nodded, but he was more concerned about how they were going to get the tank up the narrow little path that he could see going up to the ledge. Reuben hadn’t mentioned anything like this.
He turned to his sister. “Let’s go see if somebody up there knows how we can make this delivery without killing ourselves.”
Santana nodded. “And check out the musicians.”
But when they got up onto the ledge, they discovered it was only Steve up there playing both parts on the guitar. He seemed so lost in the music that he didn’t notice their arrival, so they stood and listened until he suddenly became aware of their presence.
“Thomas,” Steve said. He looked a little startled. “What are you doing here?”
“Ohla. Bringing you your propane.”
“And you could see… Well, obviously you could see the trailer.”
“Kind of hard to miss.”
Steve nodded. “Except most people don’t see it because apparently it only exists in magic land.”
Thomas shrugged. He didn’t know Steve Cole all that well—Reuben usually dealt with him—but even with the little he knew of him, he thought the man was acting a bit strange. How could he possibly think that anybody wouldn’t notice that big Airstream impossibly set way up on this ledge? And what was ‘magic land’?
“This is my sister, Santana,” he said.
Steve lifted a hand in greeting.
“Ohla,” Santana said. “I loved what you were doing with that round dance. It sounded like a couple of guitars playing instead of just one.”
He shrugged. “It’s just an open tuning,” he said, as though that explained everything.
Thomas looked around. This was a pretty sweet spot, with a great view going down the canyon and out onto the desert floor. The overhang above the trailer would protect it from the worst of the sun, though it didn’t feel particularly hot, even where he and Santana were standing. There seemed to be a cave opening beside the trailer, but from the light coming through, he figured it must be an arch. The landscape in this area was riddled with them.
“How’d this trailer get up here?” he asked.
“Damned if I know,” Steve said. “This was Possum’s place originally, and the secret died with him.” He set the guitar aside. “I guess we need to wrestle that tank up. You want to take the empty down first?”
Thomas regarded him for a moment. Steve was fit, especially considering his age, but Thomas didn’t see how the two of them were going to get the tank up that narrow trail. He wondered how Steve and Reuben had ever managed it in the past. It had been hard enough when he and Reuben had been wrestling the tank onto the back of the ATV earlier today.
“Sure,” he finally said. “I guess.”
But before they could move, a new voice said, “I can do it.”
The newcomer was a slender woman in her mid-thirties with tanned skin and long red hair, dressed in denim cut-offs and a sleeveless white T-shirt. She was standing by the end of the trailer, undoing the hose that was connected to the old tank.
Right, Thomas thought. Sure you can. Even empty, a tank that size was a fair weight and awkward to carry.
“Yeah, I don’t think you should…” Thomas began.
His voice trailed off as the woman hefted the tank easily onto her shoulder.
“I’m Calico, by the way,” she said as she went by him.
“Ohla,” Thomas said automatically.
He and Santana watched her go down the trail, managing the tank as though it didn’t weigh much of anything.
“Show off,” Steve said.
Thomas turned to him.
“She’s a ma’inawo.” Steve said. “You know—they’re stronger than us.”
“Us?”
“You know, humans.”
“A deer woman,” Santana muttered. “You’re so screwed, Thomas.”
Steve laughed. “Don’t worry. She’s not a deer woman. She’s a foxalope.”
They regarded him with blank looks.
“Part fox, part antelope.”
“Oh-kay.”
“What’s he been telling you?” Calico asked.
Thomas felt his mouth fall open. She was already back, carrying the full tank with the same ease as she’d dealt with the empty one.
“That you’re...you’re a spirit,” Santana said.
Calico shook her head. “Just a cousin.”
She continued past them, set the tank down, and began to hook it up to the hose from the trailer. Thomas couldn’t stop staring.
“Stay for a beer?” Steve asked. His gaze went from Thomas to Santana. “I’ve also got juice, or tea.”
“A beer would be good, thanks,” Thomas said.
“Me too,” his sister added.
Steve glanced at Thomas, waiting for his nod before going into the trailer. He came back with four beer bottles and set them on the picnic table. Calico finished hooking up the new tank and joined them.
Steve lifted his bottle and clinked its neck against theirs before he took a swig.
“So you’re the reluctant Indian,” he said to Thomas, setting his bottle on the table. “We’ve never really had a chance to talk.”
Thomas flushed. “Why’d you call me that?”
“Sorry. Reuben talks about you and your itchy feet. Says you remind him of himself when he was your age, only you’re smarter.”
Thomas could have gotten upset, but there was no point. Reuben talked with everyone about everything—it was just his way.
“So, if you could go away,” Steve went on, “what would you do?”
“There’s no real point in talking about it,” Thomas said. “I’ve got my family to look out for.”
“Yeah, but if their expenses were covered and you could do whatever you wanted?”
Thomas shrugged. “I guess I never really thought past wanting to get into a truck and just start driving.”
“That’s a way to do it,” Steve said. “Very organic.”
“Why are you so interested in me?”
“I’m interested in everybody. It’s good to know about your neighbours, see if you can lend a helping hand. But mostly I’m just making conversation.”
According to Reuben, Steve helped a lot of people out. He’d show up at a place when there was some work that needed to be done, then afterward just drift away. The more Thomas thought about it, pretty much everybody he knew had a story about Steve Cole. Even his mom.
“You think I should just up and go?” he asked.
“If you can get your family set up for while you’re gone? Sure. The way I see it, the sooner you get it out of your system, the sooner you can figure out who it is you want to be. Maybe the world outside of the rez is just what you’re looking for. Maybe it’s not. But you won’t know unless you go and find out for yourself.”
This was the day for it, wasn’t it? Designer woman in her Caddy, Reuben back at the trading post, and now Steve. Was there something in the air today?
“I’m not embarrassed about being Kikimi,” Thomas said.
“No reason you should be, and I don’t think that.”
“It’s just some of the traditions make me feel a little uncomfortable, like we’re living too much in the past.”
“But I hear you’re going to the sweat at Aggie’s,” Calico said.
Santana looked up in surprise.
“How would you know that?” Thomas asked.
Calico shrugged. “Some little cousin told me. The animals couldn’t care less, but the cousins live to gossip about anything, including you five-fingered beings.”
Santana looked down at one of her hands. She flexed her fingers and smiled.
“Reuben kind of talked me into it,” Thomas said.
“You might like it,” Steve told him.
Thomas nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. “You’re so close to the tribe,” he said. “How come you never take part in any of the traditional ceremonies?”
“The Kikimi are my friends,” Steve said, “but I’m not some white guy who thinks he can walk the Red Road just because he hangs out with you and feels all spiritual. You’re who you are, and I’m who I am, and we meet at the edges.”
He glanced at Calico. “And I guess I’ve got my own traditions.”
“But what do you do out here?” Santana asked. “Don’t you get bored?”
Steve shook his head. “You might say I’m a student of the desert and the mountains. I can spend a whole afternoon watching a red-tailed hawk build its nest in a saguaro, or the colours change on a wolf spider as it crosses different kinds of terrain, and never consider the time misspent.”
Calico smiled. “Sounds like somebody’s feeling a little spiritual.”
“Sure,” Steve said. “It’s partly that. It’s partly appreciating the beauty on a very simple and basic level—you know, the small day-to-day changes around me, as well as the big picture events like a sunset, or the nightly show the stars put on. But it’s mostly paying close attention to a lot of interesting things and learning not to try to impose my will on any of it. Does that make sense?”
Thomas nodded, though he wasn’t sure he understood completely. It took Santana to voice part of what he felt.
“Sounds kind of boring,” she said.
“One man’s poison...” Steve said with a shrug.
“I’m more interested in the spirits and ma’inawo. The cousins. What’s it like living with them every day?”
“I’ll tell you truth. I didn’t even know that much about them until today.”
Thomas saw his own surprise mirrored on the face of his sister.
“What he means,” Calico said, “is that until today, he didn’t realize the dreamworld is real and he’s awake in it.”
“The dreamworld,” Santana repeated. “Auntie tells stories about it. What’s it like?”
“You tell me,” Steve said. “That’s where you’ve been for this past half hour or so.”
Thomas and his sister exchanged glances. Magic land, he thought.