by C C Daniels
I kept fighting the Taser energy. I’d push it down and it’d push back. Every time it surged, the whispered thoughts from everyone in that parking lot, including tattooed man, amplified as well.
Help me. Help me.
His hands and legs cuffed, and securely strapped to the gurney, he eyed me on his way into the waiting ambulance. He was afraid of me now. But he was more afraid of whomever it was he worked for, and he wanted me to help him get away from her.
His boss was a woman.
He banged his head back onto the gurney. “Heeeeelp meeee,” he screamed to the sky.
Even if I could help him, I wouldn't. He had a hand in killing my parents. If anything, I’d participate in making sure he faced justice.
I turned my back on tattooed man and focused my attention on Honaw. “So, what happened to the elders?” I asked him.
“Their vehicle broke down just north of Trinidad.” He shrugged.
“What do you mean by broke down?” Kanaan asked.
“Any evidence of tampering?” I added.
Honaw drew back. “You think someone tampered with their vehicle?”
“At this point, I believe anything is possible.” I meant that on so many different levels.
I listened to Honaw, but watched Gertie. She stood alone a few yards from our group, fidgeting with her necklace. It struck me that her thoughts were the only ones I didn't hear.
The news camera safely pointed at Chief Danny speaking into the reporter’s handheld mic, I excused myself and went to her. “Are you all right?” I watched the green bead side back and forth on the gold chain.
“I just can’t believe this.” She let go of her necklace and gestured at the police vehicles. “The cops are in there sweeping my restaurant for fingerprints for Pete’s sake.”
“I’m sorry, Gertie. I think the man was following me.”
“He’s really one of the gunmen?” she asked.
I nodded. “Did you know him? I mean has he been in before?”
Gertie shook her head no. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
The gunman subdued, the EMTs lifted the gurney and engaged the wheels. The cameraman panned away from the chief to follow their progress across the parking lot to the waiting ambulance.
Chief Danny’s thoughts were all about ending the interview as quickly as possible. He promised more info when available and referred the reporter to the department’s PIO.
“What’s a PIO?” I asked Gertie.
She looked at me sideways. “Public information officer.”
As he stepped away from the mic, the chief glanced at Gertie and me.
“He’ll want to know why Amaya hit him.” Gertie lowered her voice. “You kids better say you thought you were in danger.”
That’s actually the truth. He’s a very dangerous man.
Her reaction to my mind speak was quick—a deep gasp and wide eyes. I thought she was going to hyperventilate from the shock of hearing me in her head.
I breathed deep to get control of my thoughts and everyone else's.
The doors slammed shut on the ambulance. It pulled out of the parking lot with lights and sirens, and one of the police cars following it. Tattooed man’s thoughts and terror faded as he went farther away.
The chief motioned to me, then to Kanaan and Amaya. We obeyed.
Amaya opened her mouth, but I beat her to it, taking Gertie’s advice.
“Did he have a gun?” I asked. “We were afraid he might have a gun again.”
Chief Danny nodded. “He did. A pistol.”
“Good call, Amaya.” Kanaan held out his fist for a bump. He got what I was doing.
So did Amaya. She knocked knuckles with Kanaan and, after a second’s hesitation, me.
Next, we gave our statements to Chief Danny. Once again, I left out the connection to my parents’ murder. I couldn’t come up with a way to explain it without sounding like a crazy girl. Plus, I felt that strange, but incredibly strong, commitment to keep the skull and MawMaw’s chunk secret.
While I was talking to him, Chief Danny’s thoughts strayed to my parents. He remembered them as teenagers all in school together and, then, my parent’s wedding reception where he was one of the groomsmen.
Someone must have told MawMaw what was happening at the Pancake House. Her truck careened into the parking lot. She slammed on her brakes mere inches from Honaw’s vehicle. It was PhD MawMaw who was driving, thank goodness. I was acutely aware, even with the stream of whispers in my head, of guilt radiating from her even before she got out of her truck.
She hobble-ran right to me. “Wray! Wray!” Huffing and puffing, she hugged me tight.
“I’m fine, MawMaw,” I reassured her. “We’re all fine.”
That’s when Chief Danny’s thoughts mirrored MawMaw’s. Both thought about my parents and how upset they’d be at that moment.
After the investigators finished inside the restaurant, Chief Danny and his officers left.
Gertie invited us all inside. “I’ll cook something fresh.”
Honaw hung back and remained outside. I knew he was calling the elders.
Amaya and I said we were full, since we were almost done eating before the tattooed man fiasco. Kanaan, though, took up Gertie’s offer of more food. His appetite was crazy, much bigger than it used to be.
I led MawMaw to a seat at the counter. “Where’s Uncle Jun?”
“He went to the hardware store for rope.”
“I’ll call him,” Kanaan said.
At least I think that was what he said. There were fewer currents of thoughts, but those left were much louder in the confined space of the restaurant.
Clucking at the mess, Gertie rapidly cleared our table. I got the broom and dustpan from the busser’s station to sweep up the shards of Amaya’s sticky weapon and the dishes smashed by tattooed man’s struggle.
“Thank you, Wray.” The way Gertie looked at me was different. Not scared like Amaya or mean—Gertie didn’t have a mean bone in her body. It was empathy, like she felt sorry for me.
Done with his call, Honaw came inside. “The elders said nothing about their vehicle breakdown looked suspicious to them. However, they promised to be more alert from now on.”
Outside, Uncle Jun and Amaya’s parents arrived at the same time. The Bell car barely stopped in a parking space, Mrs. Bell jumped out and raced to the restaurant door. Instead of a pleasant jangle when she threw it open, the bells clacked like angry songbirds.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Mrs. Bell gripped Amaya in what looked like a painful hug. “I just heard what happened.” She held Amaya away from her and looked her over. “You’re okay?”
Amaya nodded. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“She swings a mean platter.” Kanaan tried to lighten the mood.
Mrs. Bell turned a twisted scowl at Kanaan. “That’s not funny.” When her eyes came to rest on me, she deepened that dirty look.
MawMaw, brave as she was, took one of Mrs. Bell’s hands in hers. “Come. Sit. Be grateful that your child is unharmed.”
Mrs. Bell yanked her hand away, which messed with MawMaw’s balance. Luckily, Uncle Jun was able to catch MawMaw’s teetering elbow.
“Mom.” Amaya, face flushed, motioned to a booth.
With some convincing by her husband and Gertie, Mrs. Bell agreed to sit and eat. But in no way was she happy about it. She fiddled with her necklace…with the green beads so similar to Gertie’s.
The ebb of sound on a low point, I searched the channels for hers. Her thoughts weren't there. Like Gertie, I didn’t hear Mrs. Bell at all. As if she knew that, she fingered her green bead and smirk-glared at me.
Done appeasing her nastiness, especially toward MawMaw, I glared right back, met her stink eye for stink eye. I couldn't read her thoughts, but the shock on her face was clear. She was taken aback by my attitude—for a few seconds. Then, she dropped her gaze to the floor and, with a blink, back to her daughter and husband.
Dumping the
platter shards in the trash, I put the broom back and wheeled out Gertie’s always ready mopping rig. I matched my breathing to my slow twirls of the mop, trying to curb some of the onslaught and the flow of thoughts that built up again.
Kanaan watched me from a booth. “You okay?”
I read his lips more than heard him. I shrugged my shoulders. I will be.
He nodded that he got my thought.
I told myself that it was just another quirk that I’d have to get used to. I hoped that was true and that I would learn how to deal with it just like I had the rest.
Gertie brought an armload of platters from the kitchen. With Mrs. Bell and her so close together, I could compare their necklaces. The two chains were different in style. The beads, though, were the same material. Surely, it wasn't a coincidence that they were the only two people I wasn’t hearing in the din of thoughts swirling around the dining room.
When Kai’s miraculous recovery became the topic of conversation, Mrs. Bell brightened. “It truly is a miracle.” She clasped her hands together. “The doctors still haven’t a clue what was wrong or how he cured himself. I give the credit to our Manitou.”
I rolled my lips in. It wasn’t the Great Spirit or God that healed Kai.
MawMaw smiled and nodded as she chewed. She always tried to get along with Mrs. Bell. Mrs. Bell, who used to do the same. But the younger woman didn’t even bother to hide her feelings since I moved back to town.
The bombardment of thoughts and emotions coming from everyone inside got louder and louder. The volume of it gave me a headache.
“We should have a powwow while the elders are here,” MawMaw said.
I loved powwows. I’d been told that back in the day, the Front Range of the Rockies used to be fertile hunting ground. Just before winter, the mountain band would come down from the Continental Divide, the southern band would come north, and the northern band would travel south—all to join forces for a great big hunt.
All the bands would work together—hunting, drying meat and prepping hides, making sure everyone in the tribe had enough for the coming winter. After the work was done, they’d feast and, then, powwow before saying goodbye and going back home with their bounty. In spring, all the bands would gather again for the annual bear dance. Not so much a working gathering, but to celebrate the turning of the seasons.
That was the old days. Then the Europeans came. Farmers and ranchers brought livestock and put up fences. The livestock grazed the prairie grass to nubs, and the fences prevented the free movement of wildlife. It wasn’t long until the bison were squeezed out and soon the great beast was gone, along with the traditional Nuutsiu way of life.
Chief Ouray, who I was loosely named after, signed a treaty in 1863 with the United States government agreeing that the Nuutsiu would stay west of the Continental Divide. Some resented Ouray for that. He should have fought, they said—and still say. But he saw other tribes fight the newcomers and lose in blood and lives. Legend has it that he believed the key to survival for the tribe was not going war. Of course, Washington politicians went back on their treaties.
When it came right down to it, though, the Nuutsiu weren’t slaughtered and that was Ouray’s goal. He protected his people whether they wanted him to or not.
If tattooed man’s thoughts were true—that those sparkly bones could be used to control people—then they were more of a threat to the tribe than the Europeans. In fact, their very shiny existence was a threat to the entire world.
Just days before, I would’ve called tattooed man crackbrained and dismissed him. Experiences with the skull, though, taught me that his take wasn’t that farfetched.
Done mopping, I rolled the rig back to the closet. After, I slid onto a seat next to my grandmother and listened to the verbal, out-loud conversation. There was some debate as to how many people would show up to an impromptu powwow, but everyone agreed with MawMaw that having one would be good. So, while MawMaw went to the kitchen to cackle with Gertie as she worked, the rest of us divvied up numbers on the tribal phone tree to arrange a powwow in record time.
Bells ringing on the door, I stepped into the vestibule to make my calls. I’d hoped that the walls would help quiet the voices in my head. It did, some. It was dull enough so that I could call the three people assigned to me. After hearing my message, those people would then each call three people. Then, those three would also call three people. It was a very efficient system. In no time and with just a little effort from each person, it didn’t take long to spread the word.
I closed my eyes and indulged in three or four super deep, super slow inhales and exhales. Then, steeling myself, I pushed through the door and back into the dining room. And, oh my goodness, the voices had gotten so loud. Not sure why, but the thoughts from Honaw, Amaya, and Kanaan were easy for me to pick out in the stream. When I focused on theirs, the others eased into the background. It was so weird.
Kanaan and Honaw were wondering if Amaya could be trusted. Whether she would, given time, tell about our secret. They didn’t know how close they were to being right because Amaya was thinking it was wrong to keep the skull a secret. She wanted to tell everyone how Kai had been healed. Everyone.
And, at that moment, I made a decision. I knew what I had to do.
“Are you truly okay?” MawMaw brushed her fingers along my temple.
I nodded. “My head’s throbbing, but other than that, yeah.” While everyone ate, I focused on my breathing. Taking in air slowly through my nose, holding it for a few seconds, then exhaling just as slow through my mouth. It helped.
Honaw was the first to put down his fork.
“You’re not going to finish that?” Kanaan raised his eyebrows.
Honaw shook his head. “I gotta get over to the Bluff House. They want a deposit to hold the rooms for the elders.”
Kanaan pushed away his own plate—cleaned to a shine with a swipe of biscuit first—and slid his brother’s platter over to polish off what was left of that meal too.
Honaw playfully bopped the back of Kanaan’s head and stood to reach into his back pocket for his wallet. “What do we owe you, Gertie?”
“Oh.” She smacked the money in his hands. “Put that away. This one’s on me.”
He thanked her with a kiss on a cheek.
MawMaw stood. “Thank you, Gertie.” The two women hugged.
“We’ve”—MawMaw nodded in my direction—“got to go to get ready for Founders Day.”
That was the perfect excuse, exactly what I needed.
“Amaya.” I turned to her. “Remember, I need to come to your house to get that hair paint.” Using the word “remember” at the start of a sentence was our code, a signal that we needed the other person to back us up.
“Sure.” Still a bit wary, judging from her expression, she slid out of the booth without missing a beat.
“Not by yourselves.” MawMaw shook her finger at me and Amaya.
Her parents, especially her dad, agreed with MawMaw.
“I got ‘em,” Kanaan mumbled through a last bite of sausage.
That the gunman was arrested and Kanaan would be with us was enough for MawMaw and Amaya’s mom, but not her dad. That poor man was imagining all kinds of horrible gunshot wounds on his daughter.
Amaya’s parents had been on their way to the big warehouse store when they heard what was happening at the Pancake House. Mrs. Bell was the one who ultimately convinced Mr. Bell that they should stick to the plan to shop for giant packages of toilet paper. That the younger kids were with Amaya’s aunt that afternoon and they could get the shopping done quicker was a deciding factor. He nodded and said okay.
An empty Bell house would be perfect for what I had planned. I turned to Gertie. “I’m sorry I scared you,” I mumbled low.
She pulled me into a hug. “None of this is your fault,” she whispered.
I was apologizing to her for the mind speak, which certainly was my fault. But the rest of it—all of it—was my fault too. My instincts we
re clear on the fact that everything that was happening was connected to those bones and therefore to me somehow, someway.
Those men would kill any or all of us to get what their boss wanted. I decided right then and there that it didn’t matter which piece they were after, mine or MawMaw’s. Those bones had to be dealt with. I realized that the men in black would indeed keep coming after me, but I couldn’t let them get the bones. Ever.
Gertie grabbed a bussing bin from behind the counter. “Too much commotion in one day for this old lady,” she said kind of loud and began loading dirty plates into the bin.
Everyone got her hint and rose to leave too. It was close to her normal closing time anyway. She left the bin and walked all of us to the door. She lightly caught my arm and had me hang back in the cashier area.
I turned to face her. “Will you be okay?”
She gave me one of her signature single strong nods.
“Will you?” She slid the beads on her necklace.
“Of course,” I said it even though I wasn’t quite sure at that point.
“I, uh.” She lowered her voice and motioned me closer to her. “I had a grandfather who had the gift you do.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Shh.” She looked at the group of Ute leaving. “I have something to give you. I’ll dig it out of the attic and bring it to you tomorrow before the parade.”
Okay, I thought to her. That time, Gertie smiled at my mind speak. What the object could be got my curiosity going. I squelched it. I also tucked away the bit of info that Gertie’s grandfather might have been like me. I’d analyze it all later. Right then, I had a mission more important than me.
Chapter 22
We all said goodbye. Gertie closed and locked the door behind us. She flipped the sign over to CLOSED and lowered the blinds.
Oh, what a relief it was to be outside. The thoughts dimmed back to whispers.
At MawMaw’s truck, Kanaan open her door.
“I’m gonna walk to Amaya’s,” I said, as MawMaw climbed in.
She pursed her lips. “Kanaan?” She looked at him with an expecting raise of her brow.