Chapter 15

 

 

No one slept the rest of the night—maybe some intermittent dozing at best. The boys were up at six and joined Ben at the breakfast bar.

“How about an omelet?” Ben poured two glasses of orange juice and set them on the counter. “Any takers?”

“Yeah, I want extra ham.” Zac already was refilling his glass of juice.

“Nothing for me. I’m not hungry.” Nathan wasn’t even drinking his juice, just wiping the frosted sides of the glass and looking preoccupied.

“What’s on the agenda for you guys?” Ben was hoping to get Nathan to engage, but it was Zac who spoke up.

“We might be able to finish the round pen today. Oscar said he was picking up extra nails and some corrugated plastic roof material in Gallup.”

“Sounds like a full day’s work. Want to meet at Two Sisters With a Pot for lunch—maybe twelve-thirty?”

Both boys nodded this time.

 

* * *

 

“Chief Billie was looking for you.” Trini barely looked up from her computer as Ben stepped into the office.

“Do you know what he wanted?”

“Nope. Didn’t say a thing to me. Sorry, end-of-the-month reports are due in a week; I don’t mean to be antisocial.”

“Not a problem. I’ll see if I can catch up with him at the hospital.”

It had been a couple days since Ben had visited the tent area. Of course, he couldn’t go in. But he could leave a note on the windshield of the Bronco—at least let the man know he was sorry to have missed him. It was just eight now. It looked as though more than one person around the compound had an early morning.

The place was bustling—equipment being carried between tents, nurses and doctors in full PPE gear, more garbage bags than hospital issue, unfortunately, followed closely behind; Ben vowed that he’d help change that by the end of the week. He watched as ten individuals, shedding PPE as they walked to the parking lot, stopped to talk before getting into their cars. Must be the last of the seven a.m. shift change. He was just getting ready to go back to his office when he heard his name.

“Glad I caught up with you. Coffee? The Two Sisters café is open. My treat.” The chief looked as tired as Ben felt. Coffee might be considered medicinal this morning.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

A side tent of ten strategically placed tables-for-two adhering to social distancing had been erected over the weekend. It was a great place to get out of the sun and hold a private conversation.

“Any change in Mr. Chase’s condition?

“None. The head wound is severe, lots of swelling. I’m leaving a guard there, but it looks less and less likely that he’ll regain consciousness anytime soon. He’s still our best bet though to put a name or a face to the hijackers.” The chief paused to put extra cream in his latte. “Boy, you two are a godsend.” The chief commented to the waitress/owner behind the makeshift counter. “I’m going to break down and have two of those doughnuts. Those two at the back.” He turned to Ben as the woman lifted the glass cover on the display and picked out the two chocolate frosted doughnuts with sprinkles. “I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. Anything for you?”

“I’m good. Took time for an omelet before I came to work.”

They settled into a corner table partly obscured by the tent’s entrance flap that doubled for a door. The chief stirred three packets of sugar into his latte before putting his spoon down. “I’ve gotten word that we’re ready to go Thursday. The storage unit and U-Haul truck are taken care of. We just need to get you to Albuquerque that morning. I think I have a lab tech going back to IHS the night before that you could ride with.” He took a sip of coffee and put his cup down. “I think I know what the answer’s going to be but do you own a gun?”

“No.”

“I want you to have one with you. It’s only a precaution. I’ll give a package to the tech with a letter from me authorizing your carry. That’ll be good on the reservation, but may or may not be sufficient in New Mexico, and it’s too late to get you a permit.”

“You really think this is necessary?”

“I do. It worries me to possibly put you in danger. I cannot impress upon you enough that you can tell no one about the true reason for the trip. Not Trini, Dr. Henry, the boys … do you understand? You’re bringing office furniture from the Indian hospital to use here at the compound plus some boxes of household goods for yourself. The truck will be packed to show tightly loaded and stacked items at the back totally covering the real reason for your trip. If anyone inspects the contents, I doubt they will dig deep enough to uncover the PPE. I want you to check the personal items and make certain they didn’t get mixed in with the PPE. It’s just pots and pans, linens, and then things like shampoo and soap. Stuff you’d be expected to bring to wherever you were living.”

“Sounds well disguised.”

“The truck will be loaded and waiting for you. At most you will be away a single overnight and back on the reservation the following afternoon.” He paused. “I know what you’re going to say, but I think those boys will be fine with roughly twenty-four hours on their own. At eleven and twelve, trusting them to be on their own builds character. Makes them believe in themselves when someone they admire believes in them.”

“I hope so. Any chance I wouldn’t be overstepping boundaries if I asked you to keep an eye on them?”

“Not at all. I’ll be around here most of the day per usual. No problem.”

“Then I need to run something by you.” Ben told him about the Ghost Dust and Pronghorn hoofprints from the night before. The chief pushed his chair back, index finger tapping on the table in front of him, eyes averted before meeting Ben’s gaze.

“You know what this means? Who’s behind it?” the chief asked.

“A good example of a Skinwalker. But I have no idea of the meaning.”

“A safe bet is that the message simply means you’re being watched. It’s a straightforward warning, but I’m at a loss as to why you might be singled out. I was disturbed when Zac seemed so eager to interact with the Skinwalker at the dance on Saturday. I feel I’m missing something but for the life of me, I don’t have a clue as to what it might be. In the meantime, impress upon Zac the importance of being careful. And be vigilant; don’t be reluctant to run even the simplest thing past me—if it’s unusual, I need to know. Forewarning is often guaranteed safety out here.”

“I’m not sure I understand all I know about Skinwalkers.”

“I’ll share what I can. If you weren’t a Pueblo man, I couldn’t say anything. The white man is usually a non-believer and any discussion of tribal ways is strongly discouraged. But I imagine you’ve been exposed to witchery growing up.”

Ben smiled. “My favorite story concerned one of my grandmother’s friends. Her husband was driven mad by witches—stones skittering across his roof at night, the innards of freshly butchered animals left on the doorstep, old friends who had died would come up from the underworld and leave snakes in his bed. His wife finally couldn’t take it and had to leave him. They’d had so many problems over the years that everyone suspected it was the wife who drove him mad just to get out of the marriage.”

The chief smiled. “We have stories like that, too. But the Navajo, especially the elders, have deeply rooted—unshakeable—beliefs in evil and the ones who deliver it. Sociologists would say it’s a control mechanism. Keeps the kids in line at least. But if I had to describe Skinwalkers to the outside world, I’d compare them to the European concept of werewolves. Just maybe a little more evil. But being a Skinwalker is desired—in its own way, it’s an honor. It’s a show of power. And nobody has to get bitten to join the cursed.”

“So, an ordinary human somehow discovers that he can turn himself into an animal?”

“Not just men, women can be Skinwalkers, too.”

“But why? What was the driving factor—the reason for wanting to shapeshift?”

“One theory that makes the most sense is that it was an escape ploy to outdistance persecution and forced relocation. Have you read of Kit Carson’s troops driving the Navajo far into Canyon de Chelly? Cornering them and later forcing them to relocate to Bosque de Redondo? It was disastrous.”

“I vaguely remember that now, from comments handed down—but it’s nothing we learned in school.”

“There’s a lot we don’t teach in our schools. One time my youngest son’s teacher assigned the class a short story to read about Indians, only they lived in teepees. Not one Navajo child had even a clue what that was.” The chief took a moment to sip his coffee and finish off the second doughnut. “My favorite legend involves the Anasazi, which makes sense because of where we’re located—so close to the ruins. This has been Indian country for a really long time.”

“But the Anasazi disappeared—nine hundred? A thousand years ago? I always thought it was because of a famine.”

The chief shrugged. “No one knows for sure. But the Navajo believe in the Anasazi curse. They also think that Skinwalkers gained a lot of their powers from the grave sites of the ancients and brought witchcraft back to flourish among the Navajo. One particular Navajo witch is the ‘ant’jjhnii, or ayee naaldlooshii.’ The translation literally means ‘with it, he goes on all fours.’ This person can be a high-ranking priest or medicine man within the tribe. It’s believed that he gains supernatural powers by going against a taboo. For example, he crosses the cultural barrier by being willing to do a despicable deed, possibly the murder or the ruination of a family member. Membership comes with a high price.”

“It surprises me that the Skinwalker appeared at the dance the other night.”

“The evil that has currently befallen the people has spread too far. It takes evil to know evil. I think the idea was that the Skinwalker could stem the tide, so to speak. Would know how to keep the evil in check—maybe with counter evil, we’ll have to see. Oh, look at the time. I need to be in Gallup before noon.”

Ben thanked him for the coffee and advice and promised to meet the tech late Wednesday afternoon at the triage tent. He was apprehensive but what he was going to do had to be done. He was there to help in whatever way he could. He just wished he felt better about it.