That Day in the Desert: A Storyteller Tale

by Carol Holland March

  He pushed open the door and disappeared. Valerie opened the glove box and found a flashlight.

  “Light,” she whispered and pressed the button. An arc of light appeared. She used it to find Peter standing beside the boulder the car had smashed against. She handed him the flashlight.

  “They're both gone,” he said. “And we’re jammed up against this rock. The car isn’t going anywhere tonight without a tow.”

  “What shall we do?” She heard herself being practical even as her heart fluttered from anticipation. She had not imagined it. Something important was happening. Right now. To her. On this day. In this desert.

  “We're not lost and we're not that far from the road either. It couldn't be more than a couple miles to that little town. There was a gas station, I saw a light when we passed. We'll walk. With the flashlight, it'll be easy. A car could come along and give us a lift.”

  “I can't walk in these shoes. Not over sand.”

  He shone the pool of light on her flimsy Italian sandals.

  “We'll go slow. You can do it.”

  “No.” She was certain. “I'll stay in the car while you go for help.”

  “I can't leave you here.”

  “There’s no one around. I’ll be safe with the doors locked, and you’ll go faster alone.”

  “Well,” he faltered. “It isn't right. I can’t let you sit here in the dark.”

  “Look,” she said. “The moon's coming up.” It was rising huge and yellow above a row of jagged hills.

  He turned. “So it is.”

  “There's more light already. You'll find your way to the road and be back in no time. Don’t look at me like that. Just start, so I don't have to spend the whole night here.”

  “Well.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “If you're sure.”

  Poor Peter. “I am.”

  “Well, okay. Here, let me get you in the car.” He took her arm and tucked her into the passenger seat. “Lock the doors. Keep this window rolled up half way.”

  “I'll be fine.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile but she could hardly wait for him to leave.

  “I’ll be back as fast as I can. I love you, Val.” He reached through the window and kissed her. His lips were dry and chapped, his face strained and white in the moonlight. Peter always tried so hard. For the right person, he would be the perfect husband.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m safe. Remember that while you’re walking back.”

  He leaned in to kiss her again. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Of course. I love you, too. Now go. Be careful.”

  He smiled, nervous but trying to look brave. Then he was gone.

  Valerie didn’t move. Once she looked in the rear mirror. Peter’s flashlight bobbed in the darkness.

  She watched the moon rising across the indigo sky. Moonlight illuminated squat cactus plants and a spreading juniper bush, and finally, a circle of stones—upright, irregular, almost black, some a few feet high and others taller. She no longer saw the red spirit or the distant mountains but her chest had acquired an unaccountable lightness. She took a deep breath to quiet herself.

  Valerie got out of the car and approached the stones. They formed a rough circle over one hundred feet in diameter. They looked different from the desert rocks along the highway. Smoother. Older. But that was silly. She had no way of knowing the age of a rock. Inside the circle was a shallow depression where nothing grew. Within it, sand shone silver in the moonlight.

  The moon was paler now and still rising. She reached out with one hand and touched the surface of the nearest rock. Like glass under her fingertips. She shivered with pleasure.

  The minor harbingers who assisted the red spirit of the desert watched her hesitate. They fluttered their tiny wings in encouragement that she felt as a slight breeze against her face. In her mind, she glimpsed again the huge red creature draped over the mountaintop.

  Valerie turned in a circle, taking in the flat land pulsing around her, shadows cast by the knobby cholla cactus, the small, muffled sounds a rabbit or bird made as it shuffled for cover in a nearby bush. She forgot about Peter.

  She smiled up at the moon and stepped into the circle.

  ###

  On the deck of the Coast House, Martin raised his head and listened to what sounded like a branch cracking. He placed his book on the redwood table. Wind had risen. Waves broke against the rocks on the beach. In the last of the dying light, white spouts of water told him whales were near.

  Earlier in the day, he received word that the desert Guardian was leading the woman Valerie toward the portal. He was mildly annoyed, but intrigued. She was not due at the Coast House for another year and Martin had plenty of other duties that demanded his attention. He did not enjoy surprises.

  Still, he had been looking forward to her arrival. Now that he’d gotten used to the idea of her coming early, his annoyance drained away. She was the kind of person they needed at the Coast House. Independent. Strong-minded. Good qualities when unlikely events occurred.

  Martin shivered in the night air as he thought about how a time rift had almost taken another dreamwalker. The rifts were appearing more often; Larreta was no longer a place free of danger.

  Leo had never recovered from the loss of his student to the first rift to attack Larreta, and his difficulties since then caused Martin pain. He did not know how to help his most senior instructor.

  Such a pity about Bobby. Martin sighed. Even though he suspected Leo was wrong about her, her loss was a blow. Now Valerie was coming. Perhaps it was a good sign. With luck, her arrival could be a boon to them all.

  The evening was proving particularly beautiful. Wind ruffled the sea into whitecaps. The air was warm. Whales were here, circling close enough to shore that he heard the puffing of their spouts.

  Another cracking sound. Valerie had entered the circle. She hadn’t waited for the red spirit to arrive. Fortuitous. One less confrontation suited him just fine.

  Uneven footsteps stumbled toward him. She had gone through the portal and was in the tunnel. She would be here soon. He rose from his cushioned chair and opened the door that led to his office. He should hurry. It would not be fitting to be late on such an occasion.

  ###

  When Valerie stepped into the circle of upright stones, the air was different. Lighter. To her right a cave appeared in a tall hill. She had not realized how close she was to the triangular-shaped hill, but she attributed that to the darkness.

  A mound.

  The word floated into her mind. She walked toward it, her excitement growing. The entrance to the cave was higher than her head and constructed of the same smooth rocks as the upright stones. She touched one side. Warm, inviting. With the moonlight she could see into the depths of the cave. No obstacles. She kicked off her sandals and stepped in. Her feet sank into soft sand, deliciously cool against her bare skin.

  She made her way through a tunnel of opaque stone that looked silvery-gray and felt pliable under her fingers. The ceiling was high and rounded. She saw no artificial lights but the walls glowed and she had no trouble seeing far enough ahead to know she could walk safely. She walked faster, growing lighter as she moved.

  At a fork she stopped. One of the minor harbingers fluttered nervously, beating its blue wings inches above her hair. The other hovered by her left ear and whispered, Go right.

  She couldn’t see the harbingers but she received their message. Valerie hesitated and then turned into the tunnel on the left.

  She walked a few more yards before the surface under her feet turned slippery, and she skidded out of control. When she grabbed for the wall, she couldn’t reach it. Too late, she understood that the tunnel had changed. It was higher and wider. When she tried to move to one side, her bare feet slid over a slick, spongy floor. Then she was falling down a steep slope. At the last moment, just before she fell into it, she saw white water churning below.

  When Valerie landed in the water, the minor h
arbingers squawked in alarm and flew into each other’s arms. They flapped their wings furiously and stared in wonder as the obstinate human female disappeared under a foamy wave.

  ###

  The red spirit of the desert has a wide sphere of influence. Its dominion consists of empty land that it roams when darkness conceals its movements, when it can be seen only in the subtle shadows the moon throws over rocks and heard in the rustlings of wind through the stiff branches of Paloverde trees. It is both protector and companion of the desert creatures and often plays with the grandmother snakes who remember the game of hide and seek the red spirit devised before two-leggeds roamed its hills.

  The red spirit liked to mimic the sounds of small animals, to pretend it was a gopher or field mouse, skittering over pebbles and around clumps of sage, its tiny paws gripping grains of sand as it scrambled toward its burrow.

  On this night, a rattlesnake raised its head, sensed the direction of its prey and uncoiled, sliding across the desert floor, following the palpable fear of the mouse or gopher, sensing a warm heart beating frantically as it pumped blood to the dashing paws. The snake slid faster. The prey was close. A vague sense of pleasure rose in its head as it sprang forward with jaws ready to grasp the tiny body.

  At that moment, the red spirit changed itself into a pit of fire. Flames shot into the darkness, illuminating the snake as it plunged sideways to avoid the heat. The snake hissed and rattled, snapping its jaws in the air. It retreated and coiled itself as it watched the flames from a distance.

  The red spirit had perceived the frightened cries of the minor harbingers when Valerie plunged into the water. When the flames died out, it went on its way, its laughter floating back to the snake as the sound of water rippling over river stones.

  The snake thumped its rattle on the cool sand to warn all living mice and gophers that it would not be fooled again that night.

  ###

  Valerie didn't remember hitting the water or the churning waves or being pulled by a strong current into open water. She knew only the pressure on her body weighing her down. She kicked her arms and legs to gain upward movement.

  Light shone above. She broke the surface and gulped air. Tread water and looked around. In three directions, nothing but water, but on the fourth was a beach. Small and white, at least a mile away. On the shore, a pile of rocks shone silvery blue. Near one of them stood a shadow. An animal or a person? A person would help her. Swim out to save her. Bring a boat.

  “Help!” Valerie called.

  The shadow lifted one arm and waved. She struck out for shore with strong, uneven strokes. She swam and swam, but the current was against her and the beach came no closer.

  She was nearly out of breath. “Help me,” she called as loudly as she could manage.

  She swam again, shorter strokes, hard kicks. She tried to remember what she had read about staying alive in an open sea but the outflowing current was too strong. It pulled her back, toward the distant horizon. When she was too tired to move her arms, she floated. She looked up at a cloudless sky that blazed a bright azure.

  I’m going to drown, she thought. Right here, where I can see the shore. She felt sad but not panic-stricken. Maybe if she floated, the tide would turn and push her toward shore. Maybe the shadow would come.

  Valerie floated and looked at the empty sky. She didn’t notice she wasn’t cold. She didn’t notice that when she didn’t swim, she stayed in the same spot. She didn’t think about Peter or the desert or the red spirit, but only how she would love to be on that beach, with hard sand under her feet.

  Past the rocks on the beach, a house perched on a cliff, the most beautiful house she had ever seen. She wondered who lived there. Too bad she would never find out.

  After she rested, she tried again to swim. The current tugged her backward. This is not the way, she thought and she wanted to laugh because there was no other way.

  Valerie resigned herself. If she was destined to die here, she would do it gracefully. Drowning was supposed to be an easy death, like going to sleep. Not if she struggled, though. She let her legs hang motionless, to facilitate her descent and waited.

  Someone called her name. She remembered Peter and the car crash, but that had been long ago. She slipped beneath the surface. Under the water, she opened her eyes, determined to be aware until the last moment.

  I have an appointment.

  The thought flashed through her mind but she couldn’t remember what it meant. Her hair formed a circle around her face, interrupting her concentration. To drown, she had to breathe, but her lungs refused to open.

  When it glided up from the depths, she didn’t see the enormous silver-colored object. Its eyes emitted light that trailed pools of phosphorescence in the dark water. The object rose higher, close to her dangling feet, and hailed her in a deep sonorous voice.

  Valerie’s left foot struck something solid. She started to open her mouth to scream, then remembered she was under several feet of water and kicked violently. As she surfaced, the object rose with her, keeping enough distance between them to avoid striking her.

  It hailed her again. Valerie took a huge breath of air. Then she laughed. Choked on salt water. Laughed again. It had to be a whale. She was almost standing on it. More important, she understood its mournful sounds. They were telling her to rest her feet on its back and it would carry her to shallow water.

  She hung in the water, moving her arms just enough to stay afloat while the whale positioned its broad back under her. When both her feet rested on it, it moved toward shore, aiming for the pile of rocks where the shadow person now stood at the shoreline, still waving. When she saw that the person was a man dressed in black, the whale stopped.

  I can go no farther, it thought to her. You can swim from here.

  “Thank you for saving my life.” Valerie lowered herself into the water and paddled to the creature’s head. A huge dark eye blinked twice.

  We will meet again.

  She took a stroke, then another. She was moving, making headway. Two more strokes. A wave broke behind her. It carried her toward shore. Her feet struck sand. She stood and looked back, but the whale had vanished.

  Thank you, she thought to the huge creature.

  She turned to the man in black at the water’s edge. He came closer when a wave receded and stepped back when another wave approached.

  Valerie trudged through the water, waves slapping her back. When she reached the hard-packed sand, the man in black held out a towel. She took it and dried her face, then wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked at him, expecting an explanation for his inexplicable behavior.

  “Welcome, my dear.” He inclined his head respectfully. “My name is Martin. I’ve been expecting you.”

  The Coast House

  “I could have drowned.” Valerie’s feet sank into wet sand to her ankles. “Why didn’t you help me? Don’t you have a boat?”

  Martin’s brow wrinkled. “Why, no. No one’s ever asked for one, but you didn’t need saving, Valerie. The whale was waiting for you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your decision to come early was rather sudden, but I've been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Valerie pulled her right foot out of the wet sand and rinsed it in an incoming wave. “How do you know my name?”

  “I'm the Keeper of this house.” He motioned to the redwood and glass building she had seen from the water. “The Guardian informed me about your arrival.”

  Valerie looked at the house that seemed to cling to the mountain. It was two stories high with a deck spanning the length of the first floor and small balconies above. “This is insane,” she said as she yanked her left foot free. “What’s going on?”

  A memory of Peter’s face in the moonlight surfaced. She whirled, half expecting to see the rented car stalled in the desert. Instead, she faced a calm sea. A huge white fin broke through the water.

  “Oh.” Valerie turned back to Martin. “What’s happe
ned? Why isn’t it night?”

  “My dear, you’ve come to Larreta. Normally, we don’t find newcomers floating in the sea but since you made a slight error in the cave, time became distorted, and the whale was kind enough to assist. Do you remember the Guardian leading you to the stone circle? A rather dramatic soul. Often appears in red.”

  Valerie blinked. “I dreamed about him, and then saw him while we were driving. I didn’t think ...” She stepped onto the hard sand. “The red thing that draped itself over the mountain was real? That’s what you’re telling me?”

  “Everything you perceive is real, Valerie. I gather you didn’t wait for him once you arrived at the portal.”

  “Portal?”

  “The one in the American desert. I haven’t been there myself but I understand it’s difficult to find if it isn’t your destination.”

  “The car crashed by a circle of stones. The circle led me to a cave.”

  “Radasam is quite inventive.”

  “Who?”

  “Radasam. The Guardian who contacted you. He is responsible for leading souls from that part of the world to Larreta.”

  “Through a portal?”

  “Exactly. They are one-way passages and very specific, so if you are not intended for Larreta, you likely wouldn’t find the entrance.”

  Valerie stared at him. “You believe we’re not on Earth.”

  “This is Larreta.”

  “And what is Larreta?”

  “One of Earth’s…children. Very similar, as you see, but vibrating on a different frequency. Some consider it a different planet.”

  “Planet! Don’t you need spaceships to travel through space?”

  Martin squared his shoulders. “We are not uncivilized. We use portals. The distance is not great, but the difference in frequency is critical.”

  “Frequency.”

  “Speed of vibration. That’s the key.”

  “This looks like California.”

  Martin stepped back as another wave threatened to engulf his perfectly polished shoes. “You will not see California again, but I think you’ll like Larreta. I assure you it was your decision to come here. In time, you’ll remember.”

  Valerie turned back to the sea, lifted her arms and inspected them. She rubbed her hands together, relieved to feel the sensation of flesh moving against flesh. Something had happened in that desert but not the etheric spiritual encounter she had expected. There could have been an accident. When the car crashed, she must have been hurt.