Elatsoe

by Darcie Little Badger

  “When she reached the site, however, Six-Great was surprised to see a crowd of people, mostly young men, around the chasm. It was a perfectly circular hole with a diameter about five feet wide. The length of two arms. The vegetation had been manually cleared around it to stop accidental falls. A savory scent wafted from the hole, one that reminded Six-Great of cooked meat.

  “‘I expected something larger,’ she said. ‘What is the trouble? Caves are not uncommon.’

  “‘Sister,’ one of the young men said, ‘listen.’ He threw a pebble into the chasm. It never clattered against a rocky floor.

  “‘Maybe the landing is padded by soil,’ Six-Great said. ‘Have you tried measuring its depth with rope?’

  “He nodded. ‘Yes. We lowered it almost all the way, and then something tugged it out of our hands! Our new plan is to ignite a bundle of dry grass and wood and throw it down. The illumination will help us decide how to proceed.’

  “Six-Great’s husband, normally content to let others speak, said, ‘No. Do not use fire.’

  “‘Why not, Brother?’ the man asked.

  “‘Because something is living down there. It may get hurt.’

  “For a while, everyone discussed the matter. They did not want to risk harming the person living in the chasm, but they were worried by its strangeness. The meat-like smell was also concerning. Had something fallen and died?

  “At last, one of the young men volunteered to descend the chasm. ‘You can lower me with rope,’ he said, ‘I’ll carry a torch and a weapon. If the person is peaceful, they will not attack. If they are injured, I can bring them to the surface and call a healer. If they are dangerous, I’ll shout and …’ He kicked the air. ‘… fight!’

  “Everyone agreed that his plan was the best they had. As the locals constructed a sturdy harness, Six-Great and her husband took the horses to a nearby stream to drink. It was a fifteen-minute hike away from the strange chasm.

  “‘What do you think?’ her husband asked. ‘Is it a wise idea to send somebody down there?’

  “‘I don’t know. The smell concerns me. It’s not the scent of a fresh kill or a rotten one. It’s cooked meat.’

  “As the horses drank the fresh, cool water, a coyote woman approached. She was in her human guise, but even disguised, coyotes cannot hide their yellow eyes. They use sunglasses these days. Even at night. There’s so many electric lights, it’s easy to see, especially with coyote eyes.”

  “What about colored contact lenses?” Ellie asked.

  “I don’t think they fit right—unless there’s a company that manufactures contacts for coyotes. Which may exist, actually. I wouldn’t know.” Vivian shrugged. “In the old days, animal people didn’t need to hide. Six-Great greeted the coyote woman like family. ‘Hello, Sister,’ she said. ‘Can we help you?’

  “The coyote woman circled the horses like they were a marvel. ‘I’ve never ridden one of these before,’ she said. ‘How fast do they go?’

  “Six-Great’s husband considered the question. ‘They could outrun a bear,’ he said. Grizzly bears are disturbingly fast, as you know. If you ever see one, it’s safer to curl up in a little ball than turn your back and—”

  “I don’t need to curl up in a ball. Kirby would protect me.”

  “It’s safe to have a backup plan. He might not always be with you.”

  “He will. But my backup plan is another ghost dog.”

  Judging by her deadpan stare, Vivian was unimpressed.

  “What happened next?” Ellie prompted.

  “The coyote woman asked, ‘Can you give me a ride? I want to go far away.’

  “‘Yes,’ Six-Great’s husband said, ‘after we finish our business here.’

  “‘What business? Watering your animals? They seem content.’

  “‘A deep hole opened in the earth,’ Six-Great explained. ‘We need to understand how it formed so quickly.’

  “‘Oh, that!’ the coyote woman said. ‘Stay away from it. The hole is not dangerous. Just annoying.’

  “‘Do you know what lives down there?’ Six-Great asked.

  “‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘My father.’

  “After the coyote woman vented—she was understandably annoyed by her dad’s recent behavior—Six-Great and her husband returned to the pit. They moved quickly, but it was too late! The young man had descended and was at the mercy of a prankster who used the cave system for sneaking and hiding. Normally, that deep, narrow pit was hidden by a boulder, but the prankster had roasted a deer underground, believing that the caves were large enough to safely absorb the smoke. That plan flopped. So, he had moved the boulder to ventilate the area before the bats got pissed.

  “The moment Six-Great reached the pit, there was a cry of fear from the depths. ‘Pull me up!’ the young man shouted. ‘It’s a monster! Hurry!’

  “Everyone hoisted him out of the hole. He was unharmed but shaken, trembling like a skinny-dipper in the winter. ‘We disturbed the ancient dead!’ he said. ‘They demand gifts of food for our insolence!’

  “‘Dead don’t eat,’ Six-Great said. ‘Calm down. What did the monster look like?’

  “‘It was covered in white spikes and had a skull head!’

  “‘Send me down there,’ she insisted. ‘I want to see it for myself.’

  “The young men tried to convince her that it was too dangerous. ‘You may anger him,’ they said. ‘Let us send food instead.’

  “Six-Great’s husband laughed at that. ‘Save your resources,’ he said. ‘And while you’re at it, save your breath. You might as well tell the sun to rise in the North. What are you doing, my wife?’

  “Six-Great delicately held two prickly-pear fruits. ‘He wants food,’ she explained. ‘I’ll give him the gift he deserves.’

  “After she scraped the spikes off one fruit, Six-Great slipped into the harness, and the young men lowered her into the pit. The sunlight above her head became a little circle of light. When Six-Great felt the ground beneath her feet—it was soft and spongy, like a pile of dirt and leaves—she lit her torch.

  “‘Come out, monster!’ she called. ‘I have an offering for you.’

  “‘Ooooooo! Woooo! Woooo!’ came an eerie response. I bet it sounded a lot like that lonely coyote howling in the park. ‘Put my food on the ground and leave!’

  “The coyote man stepped into the flickering light, and for a moment, Six-Great mistook him for something intimidating: pearly white spikes jutted from his stooped back and arms. His yellow eyes glinted, doglike, as they reflected fire through the white bison skull he wore as a mask.

  “‘Here,’ she said, offering him the fruit without the prickles. She’d been impressed by his costume. It must have taken hours to collect a dozen stalagmites and fasten them to his body.

  “The coyote plucked the fruit from her hand, sniffed it thoughtfully, and then withdrew into the shadows. ‘Send more meat,’ he said. But … obviously, he didn’t speak English. Or Lipan. Animal people use a language that needs no translation.

  “‘You roasted a whole deer,’ Six-Great said.

  “‘And? So what? Monsters have big appetites.’

  “‘I’ll grant you the big appetite, Coyote.’ She wagged her torch in his direction. ‘I haven’t shared your secret … yet. If you keep trying to frighten humans, that’s gonna change, and you can forget about using these caves. Understand?’

  “Coyote whipped off his bison skull mask and flung it against a stone wall. ‘How did you know?’ he asked.

  “‘I’ve met plenty of monsters, and you aren’t even close.’

  “From afar, there was a rhythmic clatter, like dry sticks snapping against each other: clck, clck, clck. The cave system was a maze of passages and chambers, so Six-Great could not pin down its source. She swung her torch side-to-side. ‘More tricks, Coyote?’

  “‘Always,’ he said, ‘but that isn’t one of them.’ He lowered the fruit and tilted his head, as if listening. ‘Uh-oh.’

  “The clatt
ers were drowned by a multitude of rustlings and squeaks. A flood of bats burst from every passage, rushing around Six-Great. She could feel wings whispering against her arms as they disturbed the air with powerful, rapid flaps. The animals were packed so tight, it was impossible to see her hand in front of her face, as if the darkness of the cave had been manifested in thousands of fuzzy little bodies. The bats shot up the vertical chasm, and within a minute, they’d all escaped the cave. ‘It’s too early,’ Six-Great said. ‘They shouldn’t be awake until evening.’

  “‘Coyote!’ said a high-pitched voice. ‘You are no longer welcome in these caves!’

  “Deep within the largest passage to her right, Six-Great saw a hint of movement. She stepped forward, with her torch held out, and lit a bat person. The bat wore many beaded necklaces, some dangling below her belly, others clasped tightly around her throat. The beads were made from the strangest stones Six-Great had ever seen. Minerals of all textures and colors. One resembled a leaf’s imprint embedded in rock.

  “‘Why not?’ Coyote demanded. ‘I’ve always been good to you folks.’

  “‘You defaced our home,’ she said. ‘The spikes on your back took millennia to grow. Drop by drop, the earth layered each stalagmite with the salt in her tears. And you harvested them for a prank?’

  “‘There are so many!’ Coyote said. ‘I only took … what is this? Six? Seven?’ He turned around, as if expecting Six-Great to count each stalagmite pinned to his back. By the way, there were nine.

  “‘There are so many,’ the bat woman repeated. ‘An excuse to do as you please, regardless of the impact. Gather your belongings and get out before the warriors wake.’ She struck the cave wall with a type of mallet and turned her back.

  “‘Grandmother,’ Six-Great said. ‘Forgive me for intruding. May I ask you a question?’

  “‘You may,’ the bat woman said. ‘And forgive me if I yawn. It’s the time, not the company.’

  “‘Of course.’ Six-Great nodded at the stones around the elder’s neck. ‘I’ve seen rocks like that before. Stone leaves, shells, and creatures. What are they? How did they form?’

  “‘Over time,’ the bat woman said. ‘More time than it takes to grow a stalagmite.’ She smiled, revealing tiny white teeth. Nothing like the kind vampire bats have. I’m sure that she was a free-tailed bat person. They’re everywhere in the south.”

  “So cute!” Ellie said. “They always look like they’re smiling.”

  “You’re right,” Vivian agreed. “With her always-smiling mouth, the bat woman said, ‘When you live as we do, you learn a great deal about time. It’s like living in the underworld—ghosts are everywhere, teaching us about fragility and extinction. Do you know what that is?’

  “‘No,’ Six-Great said.

  “‘Absolute death. Nothing remains but shapes in the ground.’ The bat woman held up her leaf fossil, thrusting it in Coyote’s direction. ‘There were once so many of these, too.’

  “‘There’s still leaves in the trees,’ he said, snorting.

  “‘Billions. Trillions. None of them are like mine.’

  “With that, the bat yawned, stretched her winged arms, and shuffled away.

  “‘I advise that you listen to her,’ Six-Great said.

  “‘Pssssht. Bats. They’re hypocrites. You oughta see what some of these caves are filled with.’ He threw the fruit skin on the ground, wriggled out of his stalagmite suit, and scampered into the darkness. With that, Six-Great returned to the surface and informed the onlookers that the terrible monster was no longer a threat. ‘The bats defeated it,’ she said.

  “During the return trip home, the coyote woman rode on Six-Great’s horse. She spent a few weeks with Six-Great, mostly chilling with the dogs. All the dogs, alive and dead. Then, without a goodbye, she was gone. That’s how some people live. Planktos.”

  “Plankton?” Ellie asked.

  “No. Planktos. It means … drifting, I think.”

  “What’s the Lipan word for drifting?”

  Vivian shook her head. “If we had a word for that, it’s been lost.”

  “Are there really any left?” Ellie asked. “I mean people. Coyote people, bat people, bear people. I’ve never met one.”

  “Their numbers and strength reflect the health of their species,” she said. “I really doubt coyotes and bats are in trouble. They’ve flourished in the new normal. You won’t see them very often, though. They’re too good at hiding in plain sight. Pretending to be something else to get by. Kind of like our people did after Civil War. Actually, have you ever learned about the panting caves near Austin?”

  “Sure! They eat spelunkers! The Herotonic University ParAb department studied them last year. Didn’t the History Channel do a documentary on their mysteries, too? I tried to watch, but the reenactments were too awkward. Couldn’t sit through more than a couple minutes.”

  “I have it on good authority,” Vivian said, “that the whole thing is a ruse. The bat people who live in them don’t want to be troubled.”

  “Wait. Are you saying they pretend to be monsters to scare away humans? As in exactly what the trickster Coyote did?”

  “With much more finesse.”

  “Still!” Ellie looked at her trilobite wistfully. “I want to meet them.”

  “Someday,” Vivian promised. “When the world is less frightening, they’ll stop hiding.”

  Ellie snorted. “Might as well ask the sun to rise in the North,” she said.

  TEN

  THE CORONER DETERMINED that Trevor’s death had been an “accident—no investigation pending.” Ellie was not surprised, but the ruling still felt like a punch to the gut. How could anyone determine cause of death under such odd circumstances?

  No matter. Death certificates could be changed. Once Ellie and her family finished her own investigation, Trevor’s cause of death would be “homicide.”

  After a closed-casket funeral service, Trevor was buried in a sacred place with his most personal belongings. Only elders and close family saw him to the earth. Later, Ellie’s parents hosted a public wake at a park outside the city. There, Trevor’s friends, coworkers, students, and extended family could gather and celebrate his life.

  Former students dominated the wake. The black-clad children draped every bench like some dreary tablecloth. They picked at cookies and lemon bars, sniffling. Ellie realized that many, especially the youngest generation, had never been to a funeral before. The luckiest had no personal experience with death. Others had lost a grandparent or great-grandparent, somebody who died peacefully after a long life, as was right and just.

  Most of the adults stood in chattering clusters. Regularly, the groups broke apart and re-formed with different members, much like a typical dinner party. Herself in a solitary mood, Ellie watched the gathering from an ant-free spot under a mesquite tree. She drank a cup of strawberry punch. Slivers of ice bobbed on the pink liquid, melting double time in the summer heat. How did Lenore handle the parade of condolences and hugs? How did anybody? Ellie was afraid she’d start crying if another stranger commented, “He was a good man.”

  Beyond the crowd, a Mercedes-Benz pulled into the parking lot. Its paint shone like polished onyx. The luxury vehicle stuck out like a sore thumb among the more modest cars that belonged to Trevor’s circle. That’s what first caught Ellie’s attention. Made her suspicious.

  Television crime dramas liked the refrain: they always return to the scene of the crime. This wasn’t a crime scene, but perhaps …

  The car door popped open, and a tall man stepped outside. His black suit was a far cry from golf-course casual, but Ellie recognized him anyway.

  Abe Allerton was at Trevor’s wake.

  Ellie dumped her remaining punch on the grass, crumpled the plastic cup, and jogged toward the parking lot. She had no plan; did she need one? Yes, of course. She couldn’t just punch Dr. Allerton in the face, key his new car, and accuse him of murder. That would land her in a heap of trouble and endanger her fam
ily. Dr. Allerton didn’t know that anybody suspected him yet.

  Just be cool, Ellie thought. Say hello. Play nice. Dig for clues. Make sure that the doctor isn’t here to kill Lenore, or something.

  She suspected that Dr. Allerton would not cause trouble around dozens of witnesses. Then again, most people wouldn’t kill an innocent man, either. Ellie was prepared to use Kirby’s Big Howl if the situation called for a fight. Plus, the family-friend woolly mammoth could charge Dr. Allerton’s car and prevent his escape. Unfortunately, Ellie’s grandmother was old-school; that meant Grandmother never attended wakes. It wasn’t right, in her opinion, to speak so freely about the new dead. Although Ellie had commanded the woolly mammoth before, her grandmother had always been nearby, supervising. How would the big animal behave without her beloved master? Ellie didn’t want to chance a negative reaction. Grandmother had warned her that there were three places she should never summon something larger than an elephant: crowded places, confined places, and noisy places.

  That said, it did amuse Ellie to imagine the Mercedes-Benz crunching under an invisible mammoth butt.

  Dr. Allerton must have noticed Ellie’s approach, because he lowered his sunglasses and peered over the silver frames. Ellie relaxed her stance, shoulders dropping and fists uncurling. After tossing the empty cup in a mixed-material recycling can, she smiled. Too wide, at first; it was a wake, not a birthday party. Act natural, Ellie. “Hi,” she said. “This is a private event, um …”

  “Abe. My sincere condolences. I’m here to pay respects.” He smiled the right way: sympathetic, bittersweet. Was it genuine? No. Couldn’t be. He just knew how to act, unlike some people.

  “Sorry,” Ellie said. “You’re just so, um … well, I bet that suit costs more than every other suit in the park combined.”

  He shook his head, his eyes crinkling with (fake, surely) compassion. “We all express grief differently. Mister Reyes taught my son two years ago.”

  “Where is your kid?”

  “With his mother. We’re separated.” He clasped his hands. “What a tragedy.”

  “Are we … still talking about your divorce?”