Brit jumped up and gave both of them kisses. "Rudi, Yolanda, how brilliant. And beautiful. I've never had a birthday pancake."
Rudi beamed with pride and happiness. "This was the best we could do, considering the ingredients available."
"This is perfect," Brit assured him. "I love pancakes."
"Okay, blow out your candle," said Yolanda. "And don't forget to make a wish."
Brit gave Jake a shy grin. "I have only one."
"We know what it is, too," Yolanda teased, laughingly. "And I'll bet you get your wish, too! Later tonight!"
Brit blushed and tried to hide her face in the darkness. She knew that Yolanda was referring to what was happening between her and Jake. It was no big secret, she supposed. But her deepest wish was that she and Jake wouldn't lose each other when this whole trip was completed. She didn't know how they would resolve their present differences, but couldn't imagine parting with him. She took a big breath and blew out the single candle. Would she get her wish?
After they had all shared the giant pancake dribbled with syrup, Yolanda announced what would happen next. "My gift to Brit is a preview of something I've been thinking about the last few days and working on today. So, watch out, it's still pretty raw."
"Raw humor is my favorite kind," Rudi declared enthusiastically. "Especially Yolanda's."
"Before the, uh, the big time," Yolanda continued, "I used to gather my friends and brothers and sisters in the living room and try out routines on them. They were my toughest critics. If they laughed, I kept it in. If they didn't, I axed it. I haven't done that in a long time, but I think it's a valid test. So, tonight, you're the test group for my new routine. Remember, it's rough, but I hope it gives you a laugh or two."
The audience of three waited eagerly.
Yolanda started by introducing two women friends, thinly disguised as Yolanda and Brit types. The humor came as the two friends discussed experiences with husbands, lovers, mothers, children, and society's expectations of the liberated woman. As usual, Yolanda presented a stinging wit, with comments that were barbed at both ends.
When she had finished her routine, the three member test group applauded wildly. Yolanda accepted the accolades gratefully, as a seasoned pro would.
"Babe, that's the best routine you've written in ages. It's great! Just great! This one's a winner!" Rudi jumped up and grabbed her, swinging her around in a giant bear hug.
"You really think so?" Yolanda's vulnerability surfaced, along with her self-doubts.
"I do. As soon as we get back home, we're going to work that one into the next appearance. They'll love it. You'll see." Immediately Rudi was her advisor, coach, and agent. He was her business manager, thinking of audience reaction and how to profit from the material.
"Thanks, honey." She smiled at him, then turned to Brit. "I hope you aren't offended that I used you."
"I'm honored," Brit assured her. "I will be so proud if you use this material in a skit. I'll tell everyone I know to watch. I agree with Rudi. It's good material. All I know is that I laughed."
"That's the main point," Yolanda said, then nodded to Jake. "Okay, stud. Your turn to per-form."
Jake rose slowly. He was, obviously, not as accustomed to having an audience as Yolanda. "My gift is ... a little music. This is something that I do chiefly for myself and a very limited audience. I don’t even know if you'll like it, because the flute is such an old and odd instrument. The sound is pretty weird to the modern ear. Hope you enjoy, Brit. This is for you."
Brit watched with pounding heart and glistening eyes as Jake moved into the shadows. He lifted the flute to his lips, and as he stood before the campfire, his form made a black silhouette against the yellow blaze. Brit was beguiled. His image looked like one of the ancient Anasazi drawings they found on the cliff dwelling's wall. What had Jake called him? Kokopelli . . .
Even in ancient times, there were those who played this instrument, producing these same eerie sounds, enchanting audiences in this same way. Jake's music immediately transcended time and ignited the imagination of the group.
The notes of the flute seemed to recreate the hush-shush of wind filtering through the trees and slipping around the huge rocks, the rush of water in the stream, the scurrying of small animals, the wail of coyotes, the rugged echoes of mountain lions. The song was intrinsically primitive and had the unique qualities of nature. Brit had never heard such music. The performance was like magic, pulling them into a time warp. Jake was a man spanning the generations, imitating the wind and wild animals as did his ancestors. Strangely, it was as if he were communicating with the ancient dwellers of the Grand Canyon.
When he finished his mini-concert, his audience stood up and cheered and applauded wildly. The cacophony broke the silence of the night and bounced off the rocks, off the river, frightening away the night spirits, which was the purpose of the music.
"You really make that thing talk, man," Rudi said. "I've never heard anything like that."
"For a while, I thought we were surrounded by wild beasts and birds," Yolanda said. "You're pretty good, Jake. Have you ever thought about going public with it?"
"No way!"
"I think I heard the Anasazi slipping around us," Brit said. "You resurrected the lost tribes of the canyon, Jake. It was great!"
Jake, embarrassed by their enthusiasm, mumbled, "It was nothing, just a few strange notes," before slipping away to the tent to pack away his flute.
When he finally returned, Yolanda teased him about not staying around for their full appreciation. "You've got a lot to learn about performing, Jake. The first thing is to take your bows graciously. Give your audience plenty of time. And an encore is always a nice gesture."
"I'll leave the performing and the extra bows to you, Yolanda. It's not really my thing."
"But, Jake, you had the ghosts rumbling around these old rocks," she responded with sincerity. "That's something special. For your ancestors, performing is traditional. That's where you got your ability. Don't hide it."
"I guess you're right," he admitted. "I'm just not a performer by nature."
"What happened to those lost tribes in the canyon, Jake?" Rudi asked, suddenly aware of what Jake had told them about other people who lived here. "You say they lived right down here? Are you talking about whole families, or just bands of hunters and rovers?"
"We have proof of whole families who lived here. Why, just today, Brit and I found a clay doll that I estimate was almost a thousand years old."
"No kidding! Why don’t they still live here?"
"No one really knows why they left. Logic tells us that it had to do with survival, food, and water. But maybe something else influenced their passage."
"Like what?" Yolanda asked. "Maybe a bunch of them got swept downstream, like I nearly did."
"That's entirely possible. It could have been an epidemic that wiped out a great number of the tribe. Or a hostile tribe could have attacked them, killing and taking slaves, leaving the rest vulnerable. All of that was common in the ancient cultures. It's why we're investigating, to see if they left any clear signs that would explain their disappearance."
"I think you're doing something pretty interesting, Jake. And pretty important," Yolanda said. "I give you credit. The rest of us are just bouncing around, entertaining people and having a good time. But you, you're investigating history and recording it. And writing about the small details of people who lived a thousand years ago. It's amazing to think that. You're all right."
"It's interesting to me," he admitted shyly. "Even today, the Yavapai Indians live in other parts of the canyon. But we think they're from a different group than the Anasazi, who lived around here in this part."
"I'd like to see what these people left behind," Yolanda proposed suddenly. "Could I go see a cliff dwelling?"
"Yeah, me, too," Rudi said. "Could we go with you to see one of them?"
Jake hesitated. He thought of Brit slipping on the rock today and knew the dangers for Yo
landa and Rudi would be even greater. They weren't as small nor as physically fit as Brit. And, Lord knows, he'd sure hate for Yolanda or Rudi to take a fall. He wasn't sure he could secure Rudi as he did Brit today. "It's risky. The ruins are high up in the rocks. You have to climb up to them."
"Did Brit climb up there?" Yolanda asked.
"Yes . . ." He glanced at Brit with a questioning look. Did she want them to know that she almost fell today?
She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. "I'll tell them."
"Tell us what?" Rudi asked.
"As Jake said, we had to climb up to the ruins. The Indians left little notches in the rocks, like stairs. But it's tricky. You have to keep your balance and it's pretty steep. Today, just when I reached the top, I slipped. Only because Jake insisted that I tie a rope around my waist was I saved from falling twenty feet straight down. Jake caught me and pulled me up. It was pretty scary."
Yolanda stared at her, then at Jake. "You saved her life today? On her birthday?"
"Well, I don't know about her life," he said with a shrug. "But she could have been hurt pretty badly. You people just don't seem to understand. This place, beautiful as it is, can be very dangerous."
"You are one amazing man, Jake Landry." Yolanda placed her hand on his arm in a gesture of appreciation. "Always there when we need you."
"Yes, he is," Brit agreed and gave him a special little smile.
"Please, show us an Indian ruin before we leave, Jake." Yolanda gave him her best, most appealing performance. "It's another thing that Rudi and I have never done. And we might not ever have a chance to again. Ever! Look at what well miss."
Brit glanced at Jake. It was obvious that Yolanda was accustomed to getting her way, and no amount of camping in the canyon would change that. Brit remembered when Yolanda had begged Frank to deviate from their scheduled flight path and show her the Grand Canyon. Immediately, Rudi had taken up her cause and practically ordered Frank to please her. Frank had been helpless to resist her whims, and now, much to Brit's aggravation, so was Jake.
"Hmmm, let me think about this." Jake scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we could go to a different one. There is another ruin that isn't so difficult to reach. It's beyond the waterfall, so it's further away and a longer hike from here. But this one's below ground level. It's relatively easy to see, once you get there. Maybe that one would be best."
"All right!" Yolanda said with enthusiasm. "When?"
"I'll take you in a few days," Jake promised.
Brit was not surprised that Yolanda had gotten her way. Even though she and Rudi had never shown the slightest interest in the Anasazi culture or hiking to their ruins before tonight, Jake was willing to be their guide. She, on the other hand, revered the special places where she and Jake had made love. They had made their own private Shangri-la. Theirs and the Anasazis'. She just didn't want to share the spots with the Romeros. Maybe she wouldn't have to. Jake did say that he would take them to a different ruin.
The festivities continued until late in the night. Jake played another CD, and Rudi and Yolanda danced and cavorted around the camp fire. They all joined in until finally, Yolanda admitted she was tired and ready for the party to end.
"Rudi and I got up so early this morning and worked so hard all day getting everything ready, we're bushed. But we had a blast, Brit. Happy birthday!" Yolanda hugged her.
Rudi did the same. "I can't tell you how much we enjoyed just being ourselves tonight. It was nice not to be worried about some kook snapping photos of us in awkward positions or folks leaking to the media about how silly we acted."
"Why, I would never do such a thing." Brit feigned shock at the idea. "Thank you so much for the party. And for your very unique gifts. This birthday has been one of the best."
The Romeros disappeared in the tent and Brit and Jake linked arms and headed for their little cave boudoir. He helped her climb up to the ledge. They undressed quietly and slipped inside the down-insulated sleeping bag without a word, as if the gaiety of the evening had been snatched into the blackness of the night. The whole event was already a pleasant memory, a part of the past.
Brit smiled privately as Jake's arm curled around her. She settled against him and basked in her happiness. Each of her new friends had performed admirably, giving her a collection of valuable memories that she would keep forever. She kissed his chest, and her lips pressed the Zuni bear fetish. She hoped it would give her good luck, too.
Jake's voice was low and sleepy. "Can you believe this was really Yolanda tonight?"
"She was so generous, making sure everything went well for me." Brit sighed happily. "She was even nice to Rudi."
Jake chuckled. "People change. Maybe she has."
"But will she switch back tomorrow?"
"Who knows? Tonight was certainly special, Brit. It was all for you."
"Funny how it brought out everyone's different personalities."
"Hmmm, you're right," he admitted. "We were all different people tonight. And, it was nice. You know, tonight I had fun, real fun for the first time in ages. I forgot how much pleasure friends can provide."
"You sound like you don't socialize often, Jake."
"I don't. I live a quiet lifestyle."
"But you were great tonight. And when you performed on your flute for us, everyone thought it was wonderful."
"It was special, just for you, my dear. Actually, I never thought I'd play for an audience of non-Indians."
"You mean you've played the flute for Indians?"
"A couple of times they've invited me to play at certain ceremonial events."
"That's quite an honor, isn't it?"
"For an outsider, it is."
"But you aren't an outsider. You're one of them, Jake."
"No. No, I'm not. I didn't grow up with them. And I'm not full-blooded. Only one of my ancestors can be traced to the Zunis. But they want to continue the cultural traditions, like flute playing; to preserve and encourage them among their youth. And they needed a flute player. I was it."
Brit imagined him playing the flute in a gathering of Native Americans. The image of his dark silhouette against the golden blaze of the campfire remained clear and distinct in her mind. "You're a very good musician, Jake. It was truly a birthday I’ll never forget."
"Me, too."
Brit's voice was low and choked with emotion. "Jake, I'm very happy tonight."
She waited. She wanted to hear the same from him, to know that he cared for her as she did for him. She wanted to talk about what they would do about them when this odyssey in the canyon was over. But there was no response. Then she felt his rhythmic breathing. Curling around her, arms and legs engulfing her, he had fallen asleep.
She kissed his forearm and tried to follow him to sleep. But, even though it was late and she was tired, sleep didn’t come as easily for Brit. She thought of all that had happened in the last week and wondered when and how it would end. She feared, deep in her heart of hearts, that she would never be as happy as tonight, on her birthday, lying in Jake's arms.
Brit and Jake spent the next few days working in the ruins. Each day, after their work was finished, they played beside the small waterfall, swimming in the pool, and making love on the pristine white beach. They talked about everything, except what to do when their journey was over. There were no easy answers, so they pretended the problem didn't exist.
Jake felt himself growing closer to Brit than anyone since his marriage, closer than he had ever been with his wife. By the time he'd distanced himself from her, he'd pushed away most of his friends, too. He was alone with one thing left. Work.
But Brit seemed to understand him. She cared about his work, even helped him, and didn't pass judgment on his occupation or his lifestyle. It was nice not to have to defend what he was doing. Brit seemed to know its importance.
This day, he was finishing some notes on the portable computer at Casa Patio. Brit sat nearby, reading her great-grandmother's book while he worked. H
e turned to take her into his view, always a refreshing sight that boosted his spirits. Her blond hair fell around her bare shoulders, hiding her face. She was so beautiful, it was almost like a dream, his wildest fantasy, to have her here. Just watching her sometimes drove him crazy, and he wanted to take her in his arms again and make love until they both fell apart, breathless. That was the way they loved, excited and exhausted, and it was a different experience for him. He'd never been so passionate about a woman.
Sensing his gaze, she glanced up and smiled. "What?"
"Nothing. Just that you're so beautiful, how can I work?"
"Are you finished?"
"Not quite. I want to take a couple of photos of the other ruins before we head back. The one that’s easier to get to. Want to go along?"
"Sure." She closed the book immediately, and began to hunt for her shoes.
They left most of the equipment near the path that led to Casa Patio and hiked around the pool and beyond the small waterfall. About half a mile away, another canyon opened up and in its wide mouth was a large open-pit circle dug into the ground and made sturdily of stone and ancient mortar. There was additional construction inside the large circle that resembled a fire pit and possibly an altar.
"This is a ruin?"
"As old as the others."
"Why is it shaped differently?" Brit climbed down into the round ruin. "Round."
"Different uses. This one is a ceremonial room, so it didn't require the constant protection that a group of families did. It didn't need to be built high on a ledge. They probably only used this on certain occasions for large gatherings and often at night. The circular building identifies it as a kiva, which we think was used for ceremonies and dances."
"And sacrifices?" Brit's eyes grew round.
Jake shrugged. "Don't know for sure."
She moved to the center. "You can even see where they had a fire and stairs to the side. Maybe that was where the dancers lined up."
"Could be." Jake took several snapshots from different angles and directions. "This one has such easy access, we can bring the Romeros here tomorrow if they still want to see a ruin. I'd be reluctant to let them climb to Casa Patio."
A Rare Breed Page 15