by K C West
Kim’s anguished sigh barely suppressed tears. Her fingers plucked at a thread on the hem of my sweatshirt. “Sometimes, when I dream that part, PJ, I feel like I’m seeing it happen … watching her die. I’m right there with her … as her companion… and lover. In the dream, my name is Marna.”
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes.
I pulled the sleeping bag up around our shoulders, tightening my grip. I couldn’t stand to watch her cry; it hurt too much. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, trying to convince us both. “It was a dream-vivid and terrifying, to be sure—but, just a dream.”
I was reluctant to leave Kim’s side, but daylight was upon us and the chilly shadows disappeared. She sat straighter, looked more confident, and made eye contact with me.
“Kim, we need to get ready for the gang. How about I fix us both some tea?”
A tight smile creased the corners of her mouth and her eyes glinted with familiar warmth. “Thank you, PJ, I think we both could use some.”
Once the rest of the crew arrived, I had little time to think about Kim’s troubling dream and my efforts to comfort her. Mike had sprained his ankle playing touch football and Josie wanted to leave early for a dental appointment. The schedule would have to be changed. As Acting Director, I was in charge of assigning specific jobs for the new excavation and for the immediate task of rock removal. The shallow cave opening had to be enlarged before anyone could work in there, even in pairs. That meant hours of heavy lifting. We would have to create a rough set of steps to traverse the rubble left by the quake.
It was November. Our mornings were cool and our afternoon temperatures reached the mid-eighties … delightful weather for strolling or watching wildlife, but add a little exertion, and we’d soon be sweaty and irritable.
I found Kim’s clipboard and made a new schedule.
“Okay, gang,” I said with a hearty smile, “I’m posting the work orders inside the main tent right next to the lunch cooler. “Check your assignment, grab a bottle of water, and let’s get the show on the road.”
There was a minimum of complaint, which surprised me. We trudged to the side of the canyon. Sandy and Lewis climbed up to the hole, removed the tarp, and we formed an assembly line to gather rocks and place them into rough layers of steps reaching from the cave opening to the ground. Kim and I worked side by side on the lower part of the hill.
It was slow, dirty work, but necessary.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if we found the Lost Dutchman’s treasure hidden in the back of this cave?” Laine looked at her fellow workers after we’d been moving rocks for an hour. Sandy shook his head, but she refused to give up on the concept. “It could happen. The legend says it’s buried up here someplace.”
Sandy removed his ever-present cowboy hat and wiped his forehead. “That would be like finding a needle in a haystack. We should be so lucky.” He replaced the hat and picked up another piece of rock.
“Don’t listen to him, Laine. He’s just a wet blanket.” Josie grinned at her friend. “What would you do with the gold if we did find it?”
Laine laughed. “That’s easy. I’d pay off my student loans. There’s a mountain of debt there, let me tell you.”
“I hear ya,” Dewey said. “And I can match ya mountain for mountain. Let’s keep working. The sooner we get our staircase constructed, the sooner we can explore the cave.”
“Well, I feel like a convict on a chain gang,” Lewis said, standing up to straighten his back. He was working on the upward slope and had moved most of the heavy boulders with help from Donny and James.
Laine scowled at him. “Quit complaining. You’re stronger than all of us.” She held up her hands with a melodramatic sigh. “See these poor fingers? My manicure is ruined, I’ve got blisters and I’ll probably have a permanent stoop—”
“Yeah, right.” Sandy laughed as he slid a flat rock into place above us. “You haven’t lifted anything heavier that a textbook all morning, Miss Treasure hunter.”
Laine glared at him before grinning. “That’s Mizz Treasure hunter to you.”
Kim and I glanced at each other. “Gives you a keener appreciation of those Egyptian pyramid builders, doesn’t it?” she said in an undertone. “My back is going to feel this tonight.”
I dusted my gritty hands on my cargo pants. “Maybe that’s our problem. We need a huge army of slave labor with ramps, pulleys and sleds to get this job done. And lots of overseers and waving palm branches to fan us. And plenty of back rubs for everyone.”
“Slave labor? What do you think we’ve been the last hour?” Mike wiped sweat from his glasses.
Kim eyed him intently. “Oh, I’m sure we could find something even more tedious for you to do, if you’re not happy with this.”
“I hear ya, Doc. I’m not complaining, really.”
“And, you realize that these stones would have to fit much tighter, if we were actually building a pyramid,” I couldn’t resist adding. “None of this ‘close enough for government’ stuff.”
Josie snickered. She handed me the next rock to put into place on the lower rise. “Don’t forget, the pyramid would be a tomb for some dear departed ruler. We don’t have a dearly departed person…” She gave Mike a penetrating look. “…. yet.”
“Sheesh!” Mike threw up his hands and shook his head. “You women have no sense of humor. You’re forced to do a little physical labor… and right away you turn on us poor guys.”
“All right,” I said, putting my stone into position. “Time for another rest before we fight a battle of the sexes.”
Relieved groans and sighs greeted my words. Everyone relaxed in whatever shade was available. James fashioned a makeshift canopy with the blue tarp against a side of the rock mound, so we could take turns getting out of the direct sunlight.
Kim worked with us for several hours more before her attention flagged. I gave her a smile of encouragement, but she squeezed her eyes shut and sighed with fatigue. “I’m afraid my lack of sleep is catching up with me, PJ.”
“Take a longer break, we’ll be fine here.” I nodded in the direction of the hole. “It’s not going anywhere.”
Her smile was fleeting. “I do have some data to load into the laptop.” With a little wave, she turned and trudged toward the main tent.
When we broke for lunch, Kim had not returned. Laine and I found her inside the tent, asleep on the cot, the laptop beside her on the table.
“Ah,” Laine whispered behind me, “she looks so peaceful.”
“She didn’t sleep well last night. Let’s get the cooler and take it out under the tarp … give her a bit longer to sleep.”
“Sure thing, PJ.”
The crew sprawled in various shady spots, munching sandwiches, gulping down water and sports drinks from the cooler, comparing blistered hands and sore muscles. I joined them for a few minutes, but my mind kept returning to the tent and Kim. I rewrapped the remaining half of a ham sandwich, snatched up my water bottle and started back to the main tent.
“What, are we too lowly to merit your company at lunch?” Sandy teased.
I shook my head. “Rank has its privileges.”
James and Josie chuckled.
“I …uh, want to check on our fearless leader.”
“Doc’s not sick or anything, is she PJ?” Sandy asked.
“No, no, just a bit tired. Keeping up with all of you guys can be a full time job, ya know.”
They laughed and I continued on to the tent.
Kim was still asleep. I sank into a folding canvas chair, uncapped my water bottle, and watched her sleep. A fragile smile played across her lips. No lines of tension marred her face; the skin was smooth and tanned. In slumber, Kim had recaptured her youth.
I took a long gulp of water and my stomach fluttered, spreading a warm glow to parts of my chest. Gawd, I’m so unsettled when I look at you lately. My insides are churning and my head hurts so much I can’t think straight.
I took another long drink and sigh
ed.
I used to think you were a dried up old bitch with no personality. Now, I realize that you are a remarkable, inspiring, and intelligent woman. We’ve become good friends and … now I’m worried because in just a day I’ve seen you change. You were so strong and confident, standing up to my father for me, and protecting me from Stephen. You believed in me … you still do, or you wouldn’t have put me in charge of this operation. Nobody has ever given me a chance to prove myself before, Kim. Even though I’ve never led a whole project before, I’m going to try my best to live up to your faith in me. I really will. I value our friendship so much. I hope you know what a major force you’ve become in my life … in all of our lives. We’re all lost without you.
I blinked back several tears.
Kim stirred and opened her eyes. “Hey.”
I sniffed. “Hey, yourself.”
“Something wrong?”
“Nah. I got some sweat in my eyes.” I wiped the moisture away with my sleeve. “Uh … you look rested.”
She smiled and her eyes crinkled. “You finally look like a real archaeologist, PJ.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I poured the last half of my water bottle over my head, gasping as the cool liquid trickled down my neck and onto my chest.
Her laugh was unforced, natural. “When you first joined us, every hair was in place, your makeup was flawless …your clothing straight out of a catalog.”
I grinned and stuck the tip of my tongue out. “So, your idea of an archaeologist is a smelly, sweaty slob with dirt in places it has no business being in.” I swiped my forearm across my forehead, no doubt leaving a smear of grime, and pointed my empty bottle at her. “You, on the other hand, are the epitome of archaeological splendor … reclining on your posterior while your team of slaves—”
“Doctor Curtis?” Laine poked her head through the tent flap. “Ah, sorry to interrupt, but we think it’s wide enough now.”
“I guess I lost track of time. I’ll be right there.”
She left and I turned to Kim. “What’s with this ‘Doctor Curtis’ all of a sudden?”
“You’re in charge of this phase of the operation. I imagine Laine is trying to show you her respect.”
“Hmm. More like kissing butt.” We chuckled. I stood and held my hand out. “C’mon Doc, let’s go give the troops their battle orders and get a clearer view of those remains.”
She let me pull her upright, but held onto my hand.
“PJ?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know if I can work inside the cave just yet.” She took a steadying breath. “There’s still something holding me back. Will you stay in charge for now?”
“Sure, Kim.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “As long as it’s just for now.”
I reviewed my notes, feeling a trickle of sweat slide down my neck. We would work this site ‘by the book,’ from start to finish. I scanned Kim’s precise, tidy, handwriting, knowing her to be a stickler for details.
What we find here could be the most important data she’s ever uncovered in her search for the lost Amazons. I am not going to allow any screw-ups. She has placed great trust in me and I refuse to let her down no matter how little experience I have in directing digs.
I double-checked the team’s areas of expertise before making my final assignments. Dewey and Lewis would take color, black and white, and videotape pictures from every angle and at every step of the work. Sandy and Mike would measure and establish a new datum point and lay out a grid for inside the cave, paying particular attention to the matrix around the remains. If Mike’s ankle gave out, he’d have to switch with Lewis or James.
“Let’s try a combination grid pattern to develop a horizontal area trench around the remains,” I told them, as we assembled at the base of the slope, “and random vertical test trenches in other parts of the cave. We’ll probably not need to go deeper than the second level of stratification.”
“How many centimeters down should we dig?” Josie asked.
“I think we should follow the stratification lines carefully and not worry so much about the exact depth for now. We don’t want to miss anything. Even though it looks to be a primary context here, with just some sand blown in over time, it was an earthquake that revealed it to us and we can’t assume anything. Every bit of information we can discover will be important to Kim … and to the excavation.”
Josie located her diamond shaped trowel and gave me a mock salute. “I’m good to go, Doctor Curtis.”
“Excellent.” My smile was brief. Another kiss up attempt? C’mon, I’m getting too cynical in my old age. They mean well. “While we’re on the subject of how deep to dig, the caliche is closer to the surface inside the cave. Chances are there won’t be anything useful to our purposes below that bedrock.”
They all nodded their agreement. No doubt they were more experienced than I was working with the caliche, the hard subsoil that underlies so much of the Arizona desert.
“What should Mike and I do after we get the grid set, PJ?” Sandy took off his cowboy hat to wipe some sweat from his brow.
“I think Josie and James should be the small finds directors. They can use a portion of the field lab tent. Why don’t you and Mike help them classify whatever artifacts we locate.”
I looked directly at Mike. “If your ankle gives you trouble, sit, pack some ice on it and keep it elevated. Okay?” He nodded.
I turned to look at the rest of them. “We’ll all take turns working inside the cave, but because of space, we can only enter a couple at a time. Any problems or questions?”
“You forgot me,” Laine said smiling. “And Doc.”
I glanced over at Kim. She had been watching me from the vantage point of a shady rock. “Doc, what do—”
“I can help log in the finds as they come out. Or I can label and code whatever you bring me.” She stood up and addressed the crew. “Doctor Curtis has a good plan going. Let’s help her out.” She gave me a tiny wink and the gesture made a butterfly pirouette in my stomach.
I managed to pull myself together long enough to tap Laine on the shoulder. “You, my friend, have knowledge of forensic anthropology. So, we are going into the cave and meet the remains ‘up close and personal’ right after our photographers finish.”
Laine’s smile was expansive. “Awesome. I’ll get my gloves and small tools.”
I cleared my throat and raised my voice. “Folks, before we start, I just want to remind you that we are facing an important task.” I risked a quick glance at Kim, noting her serious expression. “I’m sure each of you has heard this before from every professor or site director that you’ve ever worked with, but I’m still going to say it, because it’s true. Excavation is—”
“Destruction,” they said in unison. Then, we laughed.
“Exactly. Let’s make this destruction mean something.”
My team settled down to work.
I paused before the remains. Laine and I had brushed away the sand and soil clinging to the fingers, toes and various small bones. It was time to collect samples of hair, bone, fabric, and leather from the skeletons and soil specimens from the surrounding area.
Aware of Laine’s curious glances, I continued muttering a few words as we kneeled beside the skeletons. I offered an apology for disturbing the solitude these two women had enjoyed prior to our discovery. I had worked on nearly a dozen burial sites in my career. My professors and directors always reminded us to revere the lives that had left the remains we worked on and remember they were once human beings much like us. So, I gave Laine a brief look and raised my voice so she could hear.
“Ladies — and we are fairly certain that you are that, after making our observations and calculations of your pelvic regions — we ask your cooperation during these procedures. Whatever you suffered in life that led you to this place, we ask you to help us uncover your secrets. It is our intention to do our jobs with as much respect as possible.” Laine’s head was bowed as if in praye
r, so I decided to finish on a less somber note. “So relax, gals, it shouldn’t hurt a bit.”
Laine snickered. “Professor Hubbard always quotes Shakespeare when he examines remains.”
“Whatever works,” I said, sitting back on my heels. I let my eyes roam over the provenience that contained our two subjects. I remembered something a beloved professor had once told me. ‘Don’t get so focused on the trees that you forget the forest,’ meaning that we should always consider the whole environment in which our artifacts and remains are presented, their provenience. We may find important clues just by observing the way everything relates to everything else and once we disturb one item, we lose the original picture.
I turned to Laine. “I wonder if we should try to separate these two, maybe consider them as individual sites in our recordkeeping. What are your thoughts on the arrangement of the burial?”
Her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Well, I’ve seen several Native American burial sites here in the southwest. We had to stop while the tribal councils went through the legal stuff about reburying.”
I nodded. The Native American Graves and Repatriation Act, commonly called NAGPRA, was a powerful law. It was used throughout the North American continent whenever suspected remains of Native Americans were found so that descendants could claim their kinfolk and return their bones to an honored final resting place.
“But, honestly, PJ, this is different. There’s nothing much in the way of grave goods, for example, and the fact that the dagger is still sticking in one of the bodies…”
“Yeah, that’s hard to ignore. And, it is difficult to tell if the woman on the bottom was already dead when the one on top died, or if the knife killed them both. At some point, we’ll have to separate them enough to do more detection. The knife will be the key, I think. It’s not native to this area and if the time frame fits, neither are the two women.” I sighed. “You ready to pull out the dental tools and small brushes and get started on the bones themselves?”
“Absolutely,” Laine said. “I’m hoping that we can solve the mystery of who killed whom and determine if knife wounds exist on both. That, along with the origins of these two, should give us plenty to talk about in the weeks ahead.” She sat back on her heels and looked about the narrow cave. “I can’t help feeling sorry for them both, though.”