Secrets of the Anasazi

by Sky Whitehorse

  Chantal came up behind her and took the puzzle box, laying it on her dresser. She stared into her eyes. "Don't you know who we are?"

  Maya didn’t know how to respond without telling her how silly the idea was.

  "In the way of the Hopi tradition, our tribes are the leaders for the north, south, east, and west. We are responsible for keeping the balance of nature.” She raised her eyebrows. “Your mother never told you the legend of the lost Anasazi?"

  "No. My mom says I shouldn’t fill my head with silly stories. She wants Roy and I to be raised American, like dad."

  She folded her arms. “Uh huh. Well, we know what your mom thinks. What do you think?”

  Maya wasn’t sure what to think. At the moment she was confused. There was a logical explanation for everything, except this didn’t seem to have one.

  "There’s something you need to hear. Ahote tells the story best." She pulled Maya by the hand.

  They reached the stables to find Warren and Roy raking up manure in the scorching heat. They were shirtless and Maya couldn't help but stare at Warren's six-pack and bulging arms. Warren wiped the sweat from his brow as he efficiently gathered large chunks into a pile; Roy, on the other hand, appeared to be traumatized as he poked at a chunk with his rake.

  "Don't play with it. Push it." Warren looked up, noticing Maya and Chantal, and offered them a nod in acknowledgement. "Are your friends still up for the rock-climbing lesson next week?"

  "Yes," Chantal answered, leaning against the fence.

  "Can I go?" Maya asked.

  "Of course," Warren said with a brilliant smile. His white teeth against his bronzed exterior was a delectable sight. "I'd love to show you."

  Maya returned the smile and approached the fence next to him. "Do I need to bring anything?"

  "A water bottle and climbing shoes," he said. As he rested his arm on the top of the rake, his eyes danced over her for longer than she was used to.

  Maya bit her lip. "You two are working so hard. Is there anything you need help with?"

  "Nothing we can’t handle, sunshine. If you want to help brush the horses, you're more than welcome. They love it."

  "I'd like that." Maya gloated.

  Chantal walked up to Maya, staring at her. "Maybe another time, when we’re not busy.”

  Maya blushed.

  “Where’s your dad?" Chantal asked Warren.

  "He's down there," he replied, giving a nod toward the stables.

  Maya and Warren stared at each other a moment longer before she followed Chantal into the stables.

  Chantal stopped at Fearless’s stall to rub his nose for a moment. The gleam in her eye told Maya he was a favorite. He was so cute, the way he chomped on a mouthful of hay. "Fearless is one of the smartest horses we have. He's getting old–"

  Fearless gave a loud snort and looked at Chantal, as if insulted.

  "But he's the most well trained and most tame horse we have, other than Hototo and Ancient Orange. Ahote taught them to perform certain tasks to musical notes on his flute."

  Maya stroked Fearless on the neck. He lifted his head from the trough and pushed his soft, hairy muzzle into Maya's neck and snorted in her ear, which tickled. Maya busted out laughing. Fearless's big brown eyes were innocent and his tail flicked happily behind him. He greeted her with a deep, soft sound, bobbing his head up and down gently.

  "Hello, young ones," a gruff voice greeted them from behind. Maya and Chantal turned to see Ahote. He was shirtless, revealing a couple of tattoos that wrapped around his biceps like bands. "What brings you to the stables?"

  "Maya’s never heard the legend of the lost Anasazi," Chantal said.

  He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

  "She just found out about… you know…" They looked at each other as if they were discussing something secret.

  His eyes traveled to Maya. "Humph. Go sit at the table. I will be there shortly."

  Chantal dashed into the hut; the door slammed behind her. Maya saw her run around the table and sit with a bounce.

  "Hyper much?" Maya said.

  She smiled.

  Maya sat across from her, gazing over a brown lounge chair that faced the window overlooking the western canyons. The dream catcher rocked gently in the open window.

  The back of her throat was dry. She hadn’t had anything to drink all day, but no matter; she would grab something on her way back.

  Minutes later, Ahote strode through the door with sweat dripping down his brow. He wrapped a bandanna around his forehead. "Do you know who lived in this dry land for thousands of years before the Europeans came?"

  Maya hoped this would not turn into a history lesson. "Native Americans.”

  “That is what we call ourselves today. I will tell you about the time before the world began.” Ahote shut the window, locked the door, and returned to his chair.

  Maya relaxed her shoulders, ready to listen to the legend she knew would take some time.

  “Before Earth, there was the all-powerful Tawa, our creator.” He looked up, as he referred to a higher power. “He started by spinning our galaxies into orbit, and sprinkling stars over the vast universe. This was an enormous undertaking, so Tawa called to his nephew, Sotuknang, to assist him in recreating the Earth over the course of time, up to nine times. Sotuknang shifted land, sea, and wind together.” Ahote used his hands as he spoke, gesturing everything being pulled together. “Tawa called upon Spider Woman, Mother of Earth. She walked the land and plants sprouted under her foot. She made animals and finally she gathered sands of many colors. She mixed them with her saliva and breathed life over them. She sang the creation song. It resonated over the Earth, vibrating energy of the creator. The first world was a utopia where animals and humans lived in harmony.”

  Maya could visualize everything from his words. His voice was slow and full of conviction, which pulled her into the story.

  “Some humans were formed with soft spots on their foreheads that solidified but left a space that made it possible to develop telepathy with their creator.” He outstretched his hands and looked up. “Sotuknang advised the people to respect their creator, their land, and sea. Tawa and Sotuknang observed the Earth from afar, using Spider Woman as their intercessor. Generations multiplied. The old generation passed away and the new generations forgot their agreement.”

  Ahote rose from his seat to gaze out the window. Maya and Chantal turned to face him.

  “Sotuknang created a door leading to the Underworld through an ant mound in the Earth. This was a place where Kachinas went in the afterlife. He appointed Skeleton Man as a gatekeeper. He also made refuge chambers where the last of the good people who kept their promise would hide.” Ahote turned to face them, his hands clasped behind his back. “Tawa destroyed the first world by fire. When the Earth cooled the people came out of hiding to begin a new life in the second world. They were reminded to respect Tawa, the land, and sea. Again, people multiplied, building villages and roads. Most traveled down the path of materialism, once again forgetting their promise. The good people were taken to the Underworld while Tawa destroyed the land with earthquakes. The lakes and oceans flooded. The Earth stopped revolving on its axis, and there was an ice age.”

  Maya admired the way he told the legend. His words influenced her. She wanted to believe. Chantal sat still with her legs crossed. Her attention completely devoted to his every word.

  “Years later the ice melted, and the Earth began to spin on its axis once again. The good people entered the third world. They multiplied faster, building cities and developing nations. They created machines and chemicals to make war, forgetting their promise a third time. Good people were sent to the Underworld while Tawa let loose a great flood.” Ahote lifted his chin. “Once the waters receded, Spider Woman released the people from the Underworld. They climbed tall reeds to reach the door that brought them out of the mouth of the Grand Canyon. Life was harder in the fourth world with extreme heat and cold, tall mountains and deep valleys. The white m
an coined the phrase Anasazi as a label for the ancestors of the Pueblo people, before the tribes divided. The Hopi settled here, between the Colorado River and the Rio Grande River. We still reminisce about how our people made corn grow in the middle of the desert. We now live in the fourth world. We stayed here so we would not forget our dependence on Tawa, and that is the Creation Legend.”

  Maya sat up straight, intrigued by his words. The thought of there being a door to the Underworld thrilled her, no matter how silly it sounded. He spoke from his heart.

  "Will you explain the soft spots on the foreheads you spoke of in the beginning of the legend?” Maya said. “The one that connected the people to their creator?”

  He closed his eyes as he breathed deeply in meditation, then opened them again. "Most of the people lost their soft spots over time, but there are a select few in our tribe that still possess it. There are spiritual beings in our world, but most people can’t see them. Those that have a soft spot are sensitive to the spiritual world. We are Shaman, responsible for keeping the balance of nature. Along with the soft spot, we each receive a gift. Before the third world was destroyed, Spider Woman said to the wolf, ‘Please, give your sight to one of the people’, and so he did.

  “She asked the songbird, ‘Please, give your song to one of the people’, and so he did.

  “She asked the snake, ‘Please, give your knowledge to one of the people’, and so he did.

  “She asked the bat, ‘Please, give your sonar to one of the people’, but the bat refused.

  “So, Spider Woman punished the bat with a curse and took his sonar anyway. She found those who were most deserving of these gifts, the four most respected chiefs of the north, south, east, and west, and sent them out from the Underworld to the new world, saying, 'Be a peaceful and giving people. Treat the earth well. It is not given to you by your parents, it is loaned to you by your children.’"

  A heavy wind blew, shaking the hut. The bottles of medicine in the locked cabinet rattled together.

  "The few of us that have the connection," Chantal said, "the few of us with the soft spots—we can hear through someone else's ears, see through someone else's eyes, feel through someone else's skin, and read the native language."

  "Do not tell anyone," Ahote said, sitting beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Chantal reiterated, shaking her head. "Not anyone."

  "Not a friend, not your mom or dad or brother..." Ahote said, looking her sternly in the eye.

  "Nobody, unless they have the gift of Shaman," Chantal agreed.

  "I won’t..." she began, but she lost track of what she was saying when she noticed they were hanging onto her every word as if they weren't sure they could trust her. "...tell anyone," she finished.

  They leaned back in their chairs at the same time, as if relieved.

  "Remember, young one," Ahote continued, "no one is allowed to go west of here without my knowledge. The land is sacred." He pointed towards the west canyons.

  "Why is it sac–" she started, but found herself unable to concentrate any longer. Her head started spinning; the heat had gotten to her.

  "Maya? Are you okay?" Chantal asked.

  Maya became lightheaded and Chantal's voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere down a long tunnel.

  "Have some water," Ahote said, pulling out a bottle from the cooler.

  Maya's eyes rolled back into her head.

  Darkness fell over her.

  9. A Curse or Coincidence?

  Maya woke to a cold washcloth being rubbed over her forehead. Grandma was standing over her. She tried to lift her head, but she was too weak. "What's going on?"

  "You have to stay hydrated in this climate, my child. The heat overcame you. Drink this." Grandma, who stood at Maya’s bedside, held a large glass of ice water.

  Maya propped herself up on her elbows; her neck hung like a limp noodle. Grandma supported it and placed the glass to her lips. Cool water drizzled down her throat.

  She laid back down.

  "Your Aunt Roz is having a family dinner tonight in the Grand Ballroom. She would like everyone to attend. She'll be introducing a new friend."

  "That sounds nice," Maya said, taking a few more gulps. She felt a pang of guilt about the way she ran out on her grandmother. Her grandmother had had a hard life of toil.

  "Good. I'll be in to check on you within the hour." She reached for the doorknob.

  "Grandma?"

  She turned her ear in Maya’s direction. "Yes, my child?"

  "I'm sorry for the way I reacted earlier. It’s just strange getting used to–"

  "It's ok, my child. No need for appologies." She closed the door behind her.

  Maya lay her head on the pillow.

  "How does that lump on your head feel?"

  Maya turned to see Chantal staring at her from the chair in the corner of the room. "What lump?"

  "The one right here." Chantal got up and touched the middle of her forehead.

  "Ouch!" Maya swatted her hand away.

  "Your head hit the table pretty hard.” She sat on the bed. “Ahote had to carry you back to the room."

  "I don't remember."

  "Anyway,” she tucked Maya’s hair behind her ear, “my mom is having a ‘friend’ over for dinner."

  "Yeah, that's what Grandma said."

  Chantal batted her eyes. "You don't get it. ‘Friend’ is code word for new boyfriend. It's always the same. We meet the guy and he turns out to be a creep. She's never had luck with men, and truth be told," she paused, "I think my mom is under a curse."

  Maya sat up, holding up her forefinger. "Hold up. You're telling me we are not only connected when we dream and close our eyes. but our ancestors came from a door from an underground world in the Grand Canyon. Now there are also curses?"

  Chantal looked up in thought, then back to Maya and nodded. "Um... yeah. That's about the gist of it."

  Maya stared at her, displeased. "Anything else I should know about?"

  "One step at a time, Maya. I know you're overwhelmed right now. I can't drop everything I know on you all in one day. Gah!"

  Maya rolled her eyes and gulped the rest of the water. "Ok. Go ahead and get me up to speed on this... this... alleged curse?"

  "It's not alleged! Well, ok, it is alleged, but I really believe it. Every man my mom has ever dated has just up and left. First, there was Chase's father, who left before he was born. My mom doesn't talk about him so I'm not sure why. Then Lance's and my father, who took off before Lance was born. He's never been to see us. Mom doesn't know where he is. Then there has been a slew of other men after that. They stick around for a while and then they just up and leave town, breaking her heart every time."

  "I think you might be just like my friend back home. She's uncomfortable with her parents dating other people. She's been hurt by other guys and you just want to protect her. Maybe this guy will be different."

  "Noooo!" She covered her face and fell forward onto the bed. "I swear I'm not the pathetic daughter that tries to ruin her mother's relationships."

  Maya raised her eyebrows at her. "Something tells me this evening is going to be difficult for you."

  ⭐⭐⭐

  Maya and Chantal entered the Grand Ballroom fifteen minutes late; Maya started feeling better and had to push Chantal into getting ready. The ballroom had a glossy wooden dance floor, a grand piano in the center, and a glass chandelier.