by C C Daniels
What was happening?
You’re screaming, Wray. It was Allohak’s slo-mo voice in my head.
I opened my mouth wide and gulped in oxygen. Instead of calming me, I gagged on it. Allohak didn’t seem to be in pain. He wasn’t holding his ears. Neither was Mrs. Bell. She was bent over all three of her kids and her husband, who were.
I tried again to breath deep. On her knees, Mrs. Bell raised her head and our eyes locked. I couldn’t hear her thoughts, but her hatred slammed into me. Had she always hated me?
Stop screaming, Wray. Allohak spoke to me again.
I can’t!
Kanaan let out a horrific groan.
Wray, you’re hurting them. Allohak took slow but large strides toward me.
“Stop!” I screamed.
And everything froze. Allohak with his leg lifted. Mrs. Bell smoothing Amaya’s hair back. Even the flames of the central fire were locked in place.
And, I ran. I ran as if Satan himself were on my tail.
“Stay still, time. Stay,” I ordered.
When I reached the parking area, I grabbed the old buffalo robe from Uncle Jun’s truck and wrapped it around me, tying its belt tight around my waist. Then, I took the reins of Mary’s stock-still horse—poised and ready for when time unfroze.
“C’mon.” I growled at time like it was an entity I could control. And as though complying to my demand, the world whooshed back to life. I swung myself up on the mare bareback and, without looking back, dug my heels into her side.
Minutes? Hours? I have no idea how long we galloped up and up into the Rocky Mountains. I slowed only when the horse wheezed her discomfort.
Before long, both of us breathed closer to normal. I looked around the darkness to get my bearings. Below me to the east were the lights of the Air Force Academy. That meant I was near Rampart Reservoir. I had overshot it, but I figured it was only a mile or so south from where I was.
I reined the mare around and headed toward a shelter—an old wickiup meant to be temporary but enclosed and anglicized by a miner a century ago—that I knew was tucked on the northern ridge of the reservoir.
And that’s were Kanaan found me.
Seemed my talents were only getting stronger, because I felt him coming up the trail. Mary’s mare neighed her greeting to him and his horse moments before he came through the door. Not saying a word, he softly closed the door behind him.
Wrapped in the buffalo robe sitting on the floor in front of a hasty fire I had made in the potbellied stove, I didn’t budge or look at him. He silently sat next to me and took my hand. We sat like that for quite a while, staring into the fire, until my curiosity got the better of me.
“How’d you find me?”
“Um.” He pointed a thumb at himself. “I’m an Indian and tracking is in my DNA?”
I laughed through my desperation.
“Well, that and the smoke from the chimney,” he said with a wry smile.
I’m so tired.
Then, sleep.
He pushed to his feet. Stripping the old quilts from the rickety cot, he took them outside and shook the worst of the dust out of them. The bed as fresh as it could be under the circumstances, he tucked me in and lay down beside me on top of the covers.
My eyelids were so heavy. “Perfect gentlemen.”
“Not in my mind. Don’t go in there right now,” he whispered kissing my forehead.
I was too exhausted to even try. I drifted off curled up next to him.
I woke to the smell of coffee and the light of the rising sun streaming through the wide-open door.
Shirtless with his hair down and sipping a cup of coffee, Kanaan faced the glowing orb. Without stirring, I let myself stare at his strong back. His shoulders really were getting broader and his torso more muscular. His legs filled and strained the doeskin leggings. It was easy to see the sinewy definition in his hamstrings and calves.
He was getting stronger every day and so were my feelings for him.
“How’d you get coffee up here?” I pushed the buffalo robe off me and got my necklace out of the belt pouch.
Kanaan turned to lean in the doorway facing me. “There’s a Starbucks just left of the creek.”
“Really? The neighborhood’s just so urban these days.”
We laughed. It felt good. He felt good. I swung my legs over the side of the cot and fastened the chain around my neck.
“I found an ancient can of ground coffee in the cupboard.” He came inside, took another tin cup from the cabinet next to the sink and, from an antique-enameled percolator-type pot on the potbellied stove, poured the thickest coffee I’d ever seen.
He handed me the tin cup. I sipped a tiny bit, knowing it would be god-awful, and it was.
“You’re feeling better?”
I sipped more of the bitter brew before I answered. “A little less panicky. I suppose that’s good, right?” I looked at him hopefully.
He ran a thumb around the lip of his tin cup. “Any idea what the heck that was last night?”
I shook my head no. “A nightmare with my eyes wide open.” I swirled the black coffee in my cup. “A nightmare that scared the hell out of me.” My mind wasn’t wired to believe in magic or to easily accept the unexplainable. My brain liked logic and science. Even if the science was over my head, I still liked the idea of logical explanations that someone smarter than me understood.
It was the only way I could live in peace with all my quirks. There was just nothing logical about a skull casting a beam of light into the cosmos that was answered by another beam of light with a face in it.
Kanaan’s phone vibrated on the chair where he left it the night before. He picked it up and scrolled through the messages. “Everyone’s pretty worried about you.” He glanced over his phone at me. “You ready to face them?”
What choice did I have? I looked around the tiny cabin. It wasn’t so bad.
Kanaan laughed. “You can’t stay here forever.”
I pouted. “Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t have a hot shower.” He held out a hand to help me up.
“Good point.” I put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet.
We tidied the cabin and made sure the fire was completely snuffed. Then, we rode in silence, just the sounds of nature and the hooves bringing us down the mountain.
When we neared burial ridge, I felt a tug on my heart that pricked at my tear ducts. I shook the emotion off. It wasn’t the right time.
The decorations from last night’s powwow were gone, as was all evidence that anything momentous had happened in the clearing. I studied the tree canopy, wondering if the light from the skull had singed the foliage. It hadn’t. Nothing looked out of place.
A few minutes more and we were in the heart of Garden of the Gods. I tried to enjoy the place I loved so much as we passed through it. It was impossible. The closer to home I got, the faster my heart beat with apprehension.
As though the horses felt sorry for me, they gentled their gait to a slow trot. Mary was in her backyard. She turned toward the sound of the hooves.
“Here we go,” Kanaan whispered to me. He watched me wondering how I’d handle it.
I raised my chin in hopes it would translate into a shot of courage.
Kanaan smiled. “No screaming, okay?”
I couldn’t promise anything at all.
“Hi, Mary.” I made my voice as soft and contrite as I could. “I’m so sorry I took your horse.” I dismounted.
She bowed slightly, which made me uncomfortable. She took the reins from me with a smile. “You can borrow her anytime.” She moved to lead her mare into the barn.
I followed her. “I’ll clean her up.”
“No, my dear, you must go home immediately. Your MawMaw is beside herself with worry.”
A pang of guilt joined the apprehension in my gut. Then, anger joined the crazy stew of emotions. MawMaw knew a lot more about what was going on, and darn it, she was going to tell me everythin
g—if I had to dig it out of her head with my newest quirk.
“Go to her. She’s at home,” Mary said.
“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “She went home?”
“She insisted on sleeping in her own bed and wouldn’t let Junius tell her any different. I’ll take care of my mare. You just go.” She smiled.
“Thank you for being so understanding, Mary.”
She gave me a hug. I kissed her sweet wrinkled cheek.
When I moved away, Mary bowed at me again.
“Why are you doing that?”
She smiled at me. “You better get used to it.”
Kanaan held out an arm for me to use as leverage to lift myself onto his gelding. I swung up behind Kanaan and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“You’re becoming a good man, Kanaan.” Mary nodded approvingly at the both of us.
Kanaan smiled at her and turned the horse around. I felt eyes watching us as we, still in our powwow clothes, rode the few blocks to MawMaw’s
Uncle Jun’s truck and trailer were in the drive, and Ella, who was back where she belonged, came out of her stall to meet us.
Kanaan dismounted, then helped me down. “You want me to stay?”
I shook my head. “I have to do this.”
He kissed my forehead, swung back on his horse, and rode off toward his own house. I took a moment to nuzzle Ella before turning to face my adoptive grandmother, who peered with relief out of the kitchen window at me.
“Take a shower first,” PhD MawMaw greeted me as I came in the door. “Then, we’ll talk.”
“You bet we will.” It came out harsher than I had intended, but I didn’t take it back.
Uncle Jun nodded deeply at me while he poured himself a cup of coffee. Was that another silly bow?
In the bathroom, I turned the hot water on full blast, stripped the skins off me, and took off my necklace setting it safely away from the sink. I waited until the steam rose before I stepped under the hot stream, my favorite cure-all.
I unbraided my hair and gave it a good scrubbing. I was in mid-rinse when I felt her—that woman, the face that was in the light. She was here. Quickly, I rinsed off the rest the suds, got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and marched downstairs.
Shocking Uncle Jun as he read the paper at the kitchen table and MawMaw who knitted in her easy chair in the living room, I dripped water the whole way to the front door, which I threw open. After a brief startle, the beautiful thing at the door smiled.
“Hello, Wray.” Her voice could only be described as molten bliss. She was blond, blue eyed, and very pale—like me. She bowed slightly at me. Then, with a look of pure rapture, glanced at MawMaw, who stood to come to the door.
“It’s so good to see you again.” MawMaw apparently had been expecting this day and this person’s arrival on our doorstep. “Wray,” MawMaw scolded. “Invite our visitor in.”
I didn’t want to. I knew, this creature, this woman, was going to change my life even more than the skull already had.
The woman nodded as though she heard my thoughts, but I know I didn’t broadcast it—hadn’t felt them leave my head.
“Please, come in,” I mumbled as I stepped out of the way to let her in.
So graceful, she almost floated through the threshold. Speechless and gawking, Uncle Jun stood in the archway between the kitchen and living room.
The lady laughed making a wonderful tinkling sound. “Call me Toci.”
MawMaw smiled at me and translated. “Toci means mother of the gods.”
I don’t know why—perhaps my ever-present anger, my frustration with the absurdity that was my life—but I rolled my eyes.
The woman had communicated to me through light that emanated from a skull, a skull that healed people and couldn’t be destroyed. Yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to believe in gods or magic. Now, I knew that I hadn’t broadcasted those thoughts either. Still, Toci tilted her head toward me and nodded.
She slowly turned to MawMaw with adoration on her face. With MawMaw initiating it, the two women hugged like they were old friends. A cheap-looking bright-yellow plastic bracelet on the woman’s right forearm stood out from the rest of her impeccably tailored clothes.
MawMaw cupped Toci’s cheek. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“That would be lovely, Osyka.” Toci returned MawMaw’s big smile.
A last gentle pat of her cheek, MawMaw released the newcomer and hurried to the kitchen.
Toci looked at Uncle Jun expectantly. He came forward to introduce himself. “I’m Junius Sky.”
She nodded knowingly at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She offered a hand to shake.
He did, but not for long. Bowing his head and backing out of the room, he was visibly intimidated by Toci. “I’ve got to get back to my place to, uh, feed the animals,” he mumbled. This is going to get weird, he thought as he went swiftly through the kitchen and out the back door.
Toci reached for my hand next. I hesitated.
Nodding in a maternally wise way, Toci used both of her hands to clasp one of my hands. Her skin was soft and warm, like a human’s. She laughed again.
“Stop.” I removed my hand from hers. “You’re reading my mind and I want you to stop it.”
“All right,” she agreed and, though I didn’t feel her enter my head, I felt if when she left. It was such a strange sensation.
Toci looked around the room taking in the decor and studying the dozen or so framed family photos displayed on the entrance credenza. She lingered on a professional portrait of Mom, Dad, and me when I was a baby. Her eyes settled on MawMaw’s easy chair with her latest knitting project laid on the seat.
Moving so gracefully, Toci caressed the fabric hanging off the needles. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be beautiful.” She turned it over to admire the back too. “Creativity is something we gave you in abundance here on Earth.” She turned to catch my reaction to those words.
My wet hair dribbled droplets on my shoulders. I lowered myself to the edge of the couch carefully keeping myself covered with the towel, then looked at her.
She nodded deeply, almost bowing. “The big bang?” She pointed to herself proudly. “That was my idea.”
“Really.” I snorted as I laughed. “And where did you live as you were making Earth? Andromeda?”
She smiled. “That’s quite close, actually. We’re in a satellite galaxy near Andromeda called Magellanic.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at that crazy statement.
“That’s good.” She shook her finger at me. “You’re a skeptic. You must see proof before you’ll believe a claim.”
MawMaw, copying my snorted laugh, brought a small dish of her homemade cookies. “That one has a difficult time believing even when she sees the proof with her own eyes.” MawMaw winked at me, moved her knitting project to offer Toci the easy chair, and darted back into the kitchen.
“Is that so?” Toci laughed taking the offered seat. “Good. That’s far better than falling for anything.”
“I agree.” I smiled back at her.
Toci selected a cookie from the plate and pulled it apart. “Yum. Chocolate chip. I love them gooey like this, Osyka,” she called into the kitchen.
It was odd hearing MawMaw’s given name in this stranger’s delicate voice.
“I remembered,” MawMaw said.
I turned to Toci. “That can only mean that MawMaw was expecting you.”
Toci nodded, but held up a finger until she swallowed the bite. “I let Osyka know I was coming. Guests should never show up unexpected, don’t you agree?”
I nodded. The surreal conversation seemed entirely normal to her. I watched her nibble on the edge of the cookie. “Don’t you have chocolate where you come from?”
“Yes, of course we do.”
“Where do you come from?” I blurted out.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
; The kettle on the stove whistled.
“Try me,” I dared her.
“We call our planet Skwe,” she said, ending the word with an odd twist of her tongue. She took another ladylike bite of the cookie.
“Like the Indian word squaw?” I asked.
She nodded and waited again until she swallowed to answer. “Yes, it’s a similar sound and has the similar meaning of woman.”
“Where is Skwe?” I couldn’t make that odd sound, but I tried.
“Go past the Milky Way and hang a direct left for a half-dozen million light years.” She smiled at a joke that only she got.
“Uh-huh.” My tone was like I was speaking with a mental case. “And how did you get here in mere hours?”
MawMaw came in carrying a tray of teacups. “Wray, don’t be rude.”
I eyed Toci as MawMaw set the tray on the coffee table.
“Thank you.” Toci took the cup of tea MawMaw held out for her.
“Are you familiar with tachyons, Wray?”
I shook my head no.
“You should learn about them and take a class or two in astrobiology too.”
Toci reached with a slender, pale arm for a lemon wedge, which she squeezed into her tea. Then, she put in just a drop of milk. I tried very hard not to notice that she drank her tea exactly like I did.
Chapter 28
MawMaw sat on the other end of the couch and smiled at Toci. “It is so nice to see you again.” MawMaw repeated what she’d said earlier.
“When did you see her the last time?” I demanded.
MawMaw and Toci shared a look. “The last time I saw Toci was at your parents’ funeral,” MawMaw said gently.
I narrowed my eyes at the both. “I was there. I didn’t see her.” Blond and pale, she would have stood out among the Utes.
“You were very focused on what you were doing. And blocked. You didn’t see anything except the trauma you just experienced,” Toci said sadly.
I wouldn’t let her talk about the murder further. “And before that? You’ve met before?”
MawMaw again shared a glance with Toci. “The day we adopted you,” MawMaw said.