Now, if only I had some water.
I stepped out of my tent, and Joshua approached carrying a bucket. Yep, filled with water. “Thanks so much, my friend. How did you know?”
The child was either exceptionally observant, due to his silence, or there was another explanation for his ability to tap into, even anticipate, my wants and needs. An explanation I didn’t yet have the tools in my spiritual arsenal to formulate into words. Without waiting for a reward, other than my heartfelt thanks, he scampered off, the cat close behind him.
By the time I reached the campfire, all three males—with the cat—were well into their breakfast of fried bacon, eggs, and hash browns. I joined in, sensing their eagerness to saddle up and move on.
Meal over, everyone pitched in to tidy up the camp and pack the mules. Pete ran a discerning eye over the site, determined to leave it undisturbed and unadulterated, as though our stay had been no more than an illusion.
We hadn’t ridden far when I heard the thud of cantering hooves to our rear, a reminder that additional guests and a guide were about to join us. In spite of my misgivings, I was curious as to who they might be, so I stood in the stirrups and twisted around in an attempt to catch sight of the new arrivals.
First Ben and then—
Veronica!
“Hello, white Indian,” she called as she cantered from behind Ben. She rode a chestnut Arabian with a high-spirited alertness that apparently matched her own: beautiful from afar but liable to buck you off at the slightest provocation.
Suddenly numb to all but the sturdy warmth of my mount, I stared at the mirror image of myself on one of my most glamorous days. Veronica’s skin had the airbrushed look of a Vogue model, and her designer jeans fit tight. Plus, she wore red cowboy boots. Red! And her blouse, though long-sleeved and modestly buttoned, still managed to look sexy. But what had me grabbing the saddle pummel to steady myself was Veronica’s hair, trimmed to her shoulders and blonde. The exact style and shade as my own. Now, we looked truly alike.
I heard a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan.
Joshua.
He stared at Veronica, slack-jawed.
Dr. Mendez drew his horse alongside mine, having relinquished the pack mule to the new guide. “No need to worry. Joshua will be fine.”
Not about to admit that my own discomfort had for a moment taken precedence over Joshua’s, I said, “Hope you’re right.”
Before Veronica could completely ruin my day, Ben called her name. He sat rigid in his saddle and glared at her in the way he had glared at me the first day we met. Having recently experienced his composed side, I marveled at the change in him.
He didn’t look like Gentle Bear any more.
Veronica, however, appeared unfazed by Ben’s obvious displeasure. She flashed me an I-know-something-you-don’t-know smile and then ignored me all together.
What was it that made my sister larger than life? When Veronica was around, she was the center. Then it struck me. Veronica had power. And she knew how to use it. She used her body, her face, her youth, and her femininity, which all added up to an irresistible authority over man, woman, and child. So why the mountain-sized chip on her shoulder? What was she searching for? What the hell did she want?
Ben rode to my side. “When Veronica heard you were taking Joshua on a horseback tour into the Ventana Wilderness, she invited herself along. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen. I sense trouble.”
“She’s my sister,” I said. “Everything will be all right.”
“Don’t carry loyalty too far,” Ben said. “I know her. You don’t.”
“Maybe I do,” I said, looking away.
I sensed Ben’s concerned gaze as he turned his horse around, but I refused to meet his eyes.
Pete rode to the end of the line to confer with the new guide and returned to the lead. “Line up,” he said, “and no tailgatin’”
We positioned ourselves as before with a horse-length between us, except now, Veronica and Ben rode behind Dr. Mendez and the extra guide led the mules in the back. I leaned over as far as I dared to check him out, and then wished I hadn’t.
It can’t be!
I felt dizzy, as if I were part of some kind of inexplicable plan, formulated by mysterious forces beyond my control.
Jake was our new guide.
Ben knew how strongly I’d reacted to this man at the concert. Was this another reason he’d come along? I half expected Jake’s sidekick, Tommy Boy, to pop into view, but, thank God, I was spared that final disappointment.
I turned my attention to Joshua and realized that, even together, we were still alone.
You need a mother’s strength, said the Voice from out of nowhere.
“Welcome to the party,” I said in return. “Where have you been? What took you so long?”
A vulture circled overhead, and I marveled at how a bareheaded scavenger associated with death could look magnificent at a distance.
The yellow-green lichen that dangled pendulously from the surrounding oaks was still moist from the early morning fog, which, according to Pete, meant we were in a valley since higher elevations don’t experience fog. The dream-like setting reminded me of a fairyland with the invisible alive. And watching.
Although old-growth chaparral coated the south-facing slopes of the ranges like a carpet of green velvet, some of the hills appeared bald, which reminded me of the Tassajara fire that had killed Joshua’s parents. What had he experienced? What had he seen?
Dr. Mendez approached me as unexpectedly as the Voice often did, with a surprise of his own. “I will be leaving in the morning.”
Hold it. What about Joshua. What about me? “You just got here,” I said.
“Ben’s here.”
“Ben’s not a psychologist.”
“Joshua does not need a psychologist twenty-four-seven.”
“But—”
“His treatment currently requires support rather than professional therapeutic help. He needs a safe place to look deeply into his own process You, Ben, Morgan, Veronica, and Pete are his tribe right now, facilitating a positive context for his experience. The rest we must leave in the hands of the Great Spirit.”
“I wish you’d stay,” I said to his back as he rode away.
Ben, Veronica, and Jake kept to themselves, and the rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Around noon, Pete led us into an open meadow and called out like a head-’em-up-move-’em-out trail boss, “Dismount!”
Joshua swung his right leg over the rump of his horse, jumped to the ground, and landed on both feet like a pro. Something sheltered in the grassy vegetation had caught his eye.
I dismounted—city-girl fashion—and nearly landed on my rump when I saw the object of his quarry.
A jackrabbit.
We stood still, not wanting to scare the little fellow off.
It stared at us, long ears alert, whiskers twitching.
Someone came up from behind. I half expected whoever it was to destroy our moment, but this didn’t happen. Veronica approached leather-moccasin smooth, and then she, too, appeared to slip into the world of the animal. Our eyes met and a current of understanding flashed between us, but then Pete clanged a triangle, “Time for lunch,” and the jackrabbit scampered off.
Without a word, Veronica started back for the camp. Joshua, however, nimble as the rabbit we’d just been observing, blocked her path and stared up at her like a friend reacquainting himself with a friend. I marveled at Veronica’s reaction, or rather lack thereof. Face passive, body still, she permitted the child’s silent inspection.
He smiled. She smiled back. And I experienced a moment of jealous protectiveness.
Then Joshua returned to my side and slid his hand over mine, re-introducing me to love outside of myself.
🗲🗲🗲
“Oh goody, Girl Scout camp,” Veronica quipped.
I laughed, picturing Veronica all decked out in a Girl Scout uniform, and concluded that, even in a solid white shirt, cadette sash, and khaki skirt, she’d manage to look sexy.
“Okay, smart aleck,” Ben said. “To what star do the two stars at the end of the Big Dipper bowl point?”
“North Star,” Veronica said.
“Also called?”
“Polaris. Any more questions?”
“Yeah.” This time from Pete. “What planet outshines evr’thing ’cept for the sun and moon?”
Veronica took a moment to answer, and I almost applauded when she barked out, “Venus.” She turned to me. “What about you? Any questions?”
I had a hard time keeping a straight face. “What’s your sign?”
“Ha, ha.”
“Cancer,” Ben said softly.
Veronica awarded him with a half-smile before Pete got going again.
“The movement of the stars or planets and how they affect humans didn’t hold much concern for the Red Indian. They were more interested in the Earth Walk.”
“Speaking of which . . .” Ben said, eyeing Veronica. “According to the Indian, you and Marjorie were born under the earth influence of ‘The Long Days Time,’ which is a time of testing and maturing.”
“Testing, maybe,” Veronica said. “But I’m as mature as I’m going to get.”
“That’s too bad,” Ben said.
I coughed back a laugh.
“Your birth and animal totem is the woodpecker,” Pete said. “The beat of its peckin’ is similar to a person’s heartbeat, and the pulse of the earth.”
This was better than television any day, and I was enjoying every minute. Veronica, however, shrugged and stifled a yawn.
“The woodpecker sometimes drums just for the enjoyment of it,” Ben said. “They also cling to things.”
Finally, a full-fledged smile from my sister. “I won’t ask what you mean by that, Ben darling.”
“Woodpecker people also make good parents,” Ben continued. “They’re particularly responsive to the defenselessness of a child.”
“Let it go,” Veronica said.
“One last thing,” Ben said. “Woodpecker people have to be handled carefully. They can be led but won’t be constrained.”
Pete cleared his throat. “Back to the stars.”
Time was measured differently here, if measured at all. The sun moved, the trees moved, and the water moved, but time stood still. And tonight, time was gentle and generous. It did not slip away. Only my fellow travelers did. Starting with Joshua.
“Happy dreams, my love,” I whispered to his sleeping form. Somehow, he’d ended up snuggled against me, Gabriel on his lap.
I glanced at Dr. Mendez and wondered if he was observing us through the eyes of a psychologist or a friend. From the gentleness of his gaze, I figured both.
“Let me give you a hand,” he said, before lifting Joshua and the cat from my side and carrying them to their tent.
“Dear God,” I said on reaching my tent. “Please let this continue.”
For the second time that week, I prayed the rosary, starting with the Sign of the Cross, the Apostles’ Creed, and the Our Father, surprised I still remembered the words. Next, I prayed three Hail Marys, followed by the Glory Be to the Father, calling on the spirits I had once known so well, especially the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Great Female Spirit, mother of Jesus.
Between the hoots of the Great Horned Owl and howls of distant coyotes, came the realization that it was Palm Sunday.
The day marking the beginning of Holy Week and the final week of Lent had come and gone without notice.