Burning Sky

by R. S. Scott

“Jess, listen. I wouldn’t put you last like that,” I say.

  “You’re not here with me, are you? I sit here on my couch and you’re up there. Exactly how am I supposed to take that? You left me. How am I supposed to except that? You left me!” Jess cries.

  “Jess, listen, I am not leaving you. I have not left you. We talked about this already.” I wander about the chapel. “Jess?”

  “I don’t need you to talk down to me, OK? I don’t need that bullshit. Don’t come at me with that kind of bullshit,” Jess says.

  “OK, I’m sorry. I’m just saying we’ve had this conversation before. We’ve talked about it. Please remember that,” I say.

  “Remember what? That my man abandoned me? That he sold me out to his uncles for a bear pouch and a prairie dog pelt?” Jess says.

  “Whoa. Wait. What did you just say?” I raise my voice.

  “You heard me!” Jess yells.

  “Wait. A bear pouch? And a pelt? Where did you get that?”

  “You sold me out! You whored me out!” Jess says.

  “Wait. Wait one fucking minute.” I see Christopher now opening the chapel door. “Shit.”

  “Now. Right now,” Christopher says, and turns toward the dining hall.

  “Jess? … are you there? Jess?” I say.

  There is no answer.

  “Jess?” Nothing. “Fuck! Damn it!”

  “Keller?” Karen calls, “We need you out here.”

  I press hard the power button on my phone, I hear it signal the acknowledgement of wireless disconnect. “OK, I’m here. Fuck Jessica.” I sigh a hard swallow, it burns deeply. “What you got, Thomas?”

  “Keller, that’s not what I was implying. If you got issues of a personal matter, then there’s a place for it.” Karen lowers her voice, “We need you out here, we have stuff to do.”

  “But this was a personal matter, Karen. You knew I was trying to talk to my girlfriend. You knew it was her on the phone, and you made sure this job was more important than her. You knew it was her on the phone…breaking me in two.” My voice cracks. “You knew. Why would you do this to me?” I turn my phone back on. “Why?”

  “When you’re on shift, we need you. We need your expertise to figure this shit out. We need you. You are a federal officer, an Indian Police. And me and Christopher, expect you to be just that. And not bring any home brew drama into this shit. Especially from Phoenix.”

  “Really? What you got against Phoenix?” I ask.

  “Well, let’s see. It’s not Dilcon, or Teesto, or Seba. Phoenix is one hundred fifty miles away, practically a country away. When you’re on the clock. You make sure your head is here, on this Rez.”

  I refocus. “Simon gets released soon and I hear I’m taking Rebecca back to Phoenix.” I observe. My phone vibrates. I ignore it as my inner being slowly hardens again and again. Slowly contorts, then rehardens again. I enter the church dining hall. “What is this plan?”

  “It’s a good plan. We ran it by the Chief,” Chris says and nods.

  I glare at Karen. “Simon gets released this afternoon, and bullets can’t kill that bastard. What am I then? A fucking decoy?”

  Chris continues, “We can’t take Simon alone, even the feds won’t touch him. This guy falls off a massive pine tree, breaks a bunch of bones then heals himself. Exactly what do you suppose we fight that with? Guns? Holden shot the chapter spider with a .357 magnum, and it didn’t die. That shepherd then shot it with a .300 magnum at 200 yards twice, and it still ran off. What exactly are we supposed to do to hold back Simon? He’s coming for that girl, and he’s going to come after us.” Chris sips his coffee.

  “We can keep the child here, at the church. Pastor and his God mojo have worked in the past, why should it not work in the future?” I glare at Chris and Karen.

  “Tracy Monroe was able to walk right in here and pin Pastor up against that wall six inches off the floor. Then that evil fuck Anthony Keller just walks right in and eats a frybread then talks God with Pastor? I know he works his mojo well, but we can’t really trust it if things like that happen.” Chris finishes his coffee.

  “Well, we’re here, there’s us and Holden and Jeremy,” I reply.

  “Anthony Keller mocked Pastor. He defiled this church and his God with what he did. Pastor should have pulled his gun and started shooting, but his ‘no violence’ beliefs are going to get him killed. He somehow believes that he will offend his congregation by not doing anything physical against that kind of instances. We can’t always be around to defend his defenseless ass.” Chris looks down at his empty coffee cup. “We have a plan, but you need to take the child back to Phoenix this afternoon. To the Salt River Rez actually.”

  “What is the plan?” I ask.

  “It’s best you don’t know.” Chris returns.

  “Why not? Karen?” Karen sits drinking her coffee. “I’m not part of any plan that leaves me in the dark, why can’t you tell me?” I ask.

  Chris sits uneasily. “Look,” he looks at Karen, who then returns a nod. “Tonight I am going to complete my ceremonies in Flagstaff.”

  I sit glaring at Christopher. “Oh please, continue,” I say as I sit smiling. “Ceremonies?” I lean back in my chair, “Ceremonies. Well shit.”

  “My grandfather is that man at the nursing home. He gave me his bear pelt earlier this year.” We share a silence. “Before he lost his mind to dementia, he gave me his stuff.”

  “Chris, you’re not serious?” I say as I adjust my chair.

  “Yes, I am.” Chris returns.

  “Chris. You’re going to become one of them? Karen? Are you OK with this?” I ask Karen. She says nothing.

  “No, I will not and am not one of them. Not going to happen.” Chris raises his voice slightly.

  We share a long silence. “So, a bear then? You’re going to be a bear? Are you going to wear overalls and a straw hat putting out fires?” My sarcasm is not received.

  “Steve.” Karen reaches out. I pull back.

  “Chris, this is a stupid plan, you’re going to be one of them. You’re going to start haunting houses like those out there?” I say.

  “No, I am not, Steve. I’m not now.” He gazes at me. “I am not one of them, the self-destructing shitheads out there. I am a police officer trying to keep the peace as you are. I choose to do that.”

  “How long have you done this?” I ask.

  “It’s always in my family, as it’s in your family,” Chris says.

  “No, the Kellers were not into that shape-shifting nonsense. That’s just stupid.” I return.

  “Steve, do you really know who your grandfather and his father were?” Chris points his index finger at me.

  “Not really, but I don’t want to go there. We’re fighting that sort of magic trying to protect a little girl from that bastard Simon, and the old Chief dying, and Jess is surrounded by things only dogs and motion detectors can see. The Monroes are spiders. You’re a bear. The Nelsons are jungle cats and who knows what the fuck else they can do. I mean, what the fuck?” I raise my voice. “You’re making this giant mess worse and possibly switching sides in the process. I don’t like it. My house is now haunted for shit’s sake!”

  “Keller, easy,” Karen says reaching for my hand. I pull my hand away.

  “Get the child to Salt River Rez this afternoon. Karen will come with you.” Chris returns, “The feds will keep track of you via GPS, and they will let you know where to go once you get to Salt River Rez. Let me, Pastor, Jeremy, and Holden worry about Simon, OK?”

  I sigh audibly, “Fine. When do we leave?”

  “Right now, if you can, the sooner, the better. Taylor gave you a pouch of the powder, did he not?” Chris asks.

  “He did.”

  “Use it. Put it on your shoulders and forehead when that witchcraft comes close. It can’t touch you then.” Chris commands.

  “Fine,” I say and finish my coffee. “Karen, get the child ready. I’ll gas up the truck. We roll in thirty minutes.” I march
toward the front door.

  Pastor stops me, “I’ll pray for you. You are in a dark place right now.”

  I struggle to compose myself, “My Jess, she’s all I have left.”

  CHAPTER 13

  We get to Salt River Rez as the greater metropolitan Phoenix rush hour commences. The air is thick, but dry. It’s not as cold as Northern Arizona so a shaggy sweater would suffice. We arrive at the supposed safe house in the Lehi area of the Salt River Indian Reservation. A community center and a church sit next to cornfields and orchards. There is Christmas music in the background inside the community center as the local pastor and Salt River Police Department greet us warmly. Salt River PD takes the child with our consent. The local pastor invites us in for coffee, popovers, and beans. We eat like famished children.

  “Karen, is it entirely possible we all drink way too much coffee?” I ask.

  “No,” she says, putting sugar and cream in her coffee. “Not at all.” She shakes her head. “No way.” She sips her coffee. “Not ever, if anything we don’t drink enough.”

  “And what is this? This is not a frybread.” I observe.

  “It’s a popover, similar but made differently. It’s good.” She eats her popover, grasping the massive piece of bread with both hands.

  “Who’s eating whom?” I surmise.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” I sip my coffee as Karen fights with her massive popover.

  The feds arrive as we lounge inside the community center with Christmas music blaring. “Ah, you both made it. I’m Henry Axelson with the FBI. How are you both?”

  “I won’t remember that name. Can I just call you Agent Henry?” Karen lays on the floor next to the Christmas tree.

  “That’s fine,” the agent says.

  “I like this tree. It’s pretty.” Karen spins an ornament.

  “So, fill me in officers. What are we dealing with exactly?” Agent Axelson says.

  “Karen?” I point at Karen.

  “No way, it’s your turn to talk. I’m tired of doing the talking.” She gets up. “The lady’s room is calling me.”

  “OK, Agent Henry.” I motion to the chair opposite.

  “Just Henry, please.” Agent Axelson smiles as he sits at my table.

  “OK, Henry, we are fleeing a madman named Simon Ahasteen from Shiprock, New Mexico. He’s one evil bastard. We brought Rebecca Taylor here, but you guys took her as part of some grand plan. No idea what the plan is, but here we are.”

  “This Simon person. From what I’ve read he believes the child, Rebecca Taylor, is now his daughter?” Henry looks on inquisitively.

  “Correct.” I sip Karen’s cold coffee.

  “Is this the same Simon that fell from a pine tree in Teesto? Broken bones in the fall, then healed himself?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” I say.

  “So that did factually happen?” Henry asks.

  “Yes.” I glance up from the cold coffee “I wouldn’t lie about crap like that.”

  “Fascinating,” Henry says, scribbling on his notepad. “And the Teesto Chapter incident with Rocky Lee.”

  “Yeah, what about it?” I ask.

  “You were there?” Henry continues scribbling on his notepad.

  “I was, I burned his medicine bag or whatever that was he stashed in the ceiling.” I sip more coffee.

  “And this provoked him to then initiate a chaos within the chapter house, where a massive brawl then erupted?” Henry looks up from his notes.

  “Sounds about right. Someone did,” I reply.

  “Yet Sergeant Christopher Benally was able to bring the chaos to a halt?” Henry looks on inquisitively.

  “Yes, but I didn’t see how as I was in the toilet.”

  “Burning the medicine bag?” Henry returns to his notes.

  “Yes.” I sip more coffee.

  “Then the medicine man appeared, calming the chaos, a Mr. Lester Begay? A Korean War veteran?” Henry asks.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “The last clan trained warrior as taught by the Towering House clan, is that right?” Henry says.

  “I assume,” I say.

  “Then what happened?” Henry inquires.

  “Rocky Lee revealed himself as a practitioner of the dark arts. He was there to harm the medicine man, he was the assassin,” I tell him.

  “Assassin?” Henry scribbles on his notepad intently.

  “Yes, someone hired him to kill the medicine man,” I say.

  “Who hired him?” Henry asks.

  “I don’t know, the same bunch that brought in Simon probably,” I reflect.

  Karen returns, brushing her hair. “You kids done?”

  “Just about. Sergeant Thomas? You fired at Rocky Lee, is that correct?” Henry asks.

  “Yes, I hit him. Then he went vertical up the corner wall.” Karen makes spider gestures with her left hand. “Just like that.”

  “You fired upon the chapter official?” Henry asks again.

  “Yes, he was a threat. A violent one,” Karen says, tying her hair in a ponytail.

  “There was a 9mm slug retrieved from the opposite wall that matched your weapon, which we have on file. A custom semi-auto pistol, a German variant.”

  “Whatever, I shot at him, and I did hit him. You figure that one out. Steve, the feds and Salt River PD have Rebecca. Let’s go into the city and get some food. It’s all quiet up north.”

  I glare at Karen. “We just ate popovers and beans, but if there’s nothing else? Agent Henry?”

  “Thanks for bringing the child. Well done, officers.” Henry gets up from the table and puts his pen into his jacket pocket. “I understand Simon Ahasteen is coming for her, and we are prepared.”

  Karen stands dumbfounded. “Henry, were your people able to bring in Rocky Lee?”

  “No, the search is still on for him,” Henry says.

  “Shit, follow the dead sheep I guess. Are we done here then?” Karen stands fidgeting.

  “Nothing for now. Let me just get your cell numbers in case I need to call you both quickly,” Henry commands.

  Karen and I scribble on Henry’s notepad.

  “So, nothing from Jeremy?” Karen and I walk out to my patrol truck. “Or Chris the bear?” I ask.

  “Nothing, and don’t call him that.” Karen glances about for prying ears, “All is quiet up in Flagstaff, but expect things to go to shit tomorrow. Chief says we have the night off. Salt River PD is armed to the teeth with all sorts of hardware, so let’s go.”

  We climb into my patrol truck.

  Karen pulls out her smartphone and holds down the side button. “Top rated sushi restaurant!” No returns. “Top rated sushi restaurants! In Phoenix!”

  “I don’t think you need to yell for that to work.” I observe.

  “Shush, Keller. Sushi bar! Sake!” Karen shouts again into the phone.

  “Oh damn. Maybe we should take a taxi, or have Salt River PD drive us,” I say.

  “Good idea, we have rooms at the resort. We can just park there. Sushi bar! Sake Bombers! Where?”

  “Quit yelling like that, we’re in a Navajo patrol vehicle on the Salt River Rez, and you’re yelling about sushi and sake,” I tell her.

  “Stupid phone.” Karen says.

  We meet up with a Salt River PD deputy at the resort as he laughs hysterically at our plans. We check into our rooms at the local resort hotel then driven to a posh sushi restaurant to meet up with Hailey and Jess.

  “Morning, how are your heads?” Jeremy stands at the entrance to my hotel room main door. “Good times?”

  I glare at a smiling Jeremy.

  “Next time just knock,” I say, hiding my eyes from the brightness of the hallway.

  “I did. Drink too much last night?” Jeremy says. “I hear you and Jessica are back together.”

  “I’m not drinking like that again.” I look in the large vanity mirror by the entrance. My right cheek seems swollen, and my right jaw hurts. “What the hell happened?” I ru
b my cheek. “I have a black eye.” I examine my bruised right eye.

  “Breakfast is downstairs in the buffet, so get you and your harem down there in thirty minutes.” Jeremy pats my arm and walks off.

  “Jeremy.” I stumble out to the hotel hall. “Jeremy!”

  He stops and turns. “Thirty minutes. Wash up, Keller. You look like surgical death warmed over.”

  “Is Chris here? Is that done?” I yell to him.

  “It is. You worry too much, Keller.” He knocks on the adjacent room door. “Karen? Rise and shine, Karen?” He gives the door several firm knocks. “Karen?”

  “Wait.” I stumble back to my room. A naked Jess and a naked Hailey lay intertwined on the bed. I pull the top comforter over both of them. On the couch in front of the TV lays Karen. No shoes, no pants, and no shirt, but wrapped in a white sheet.

  “Karen?” She awakens to me and Jeremy standing over her.

  “Oh God, oh.” She grips her head. “Oh.”

  “Karen, we have to be downstairs in thirty minutes. Karen?” I tug at the sheet.

  “OK, oh.” She gathers her pants and shirt. “OK.”

  We escort Karen to her room with her luggage still packed and sitting on her bed.

  “The buffet in thirty minutes. Got it.” She closes her door.

  “Thirty minutes.” I return to my room.

  “Good times, Keller.” Jeremy smiles and walks away.

  “My head.” I make my way back to my room. I note a blandly dressed man walking past me in the opposite direction. He turns to look at me then continues. “Fucking feds, that’s all I need is more of that.” I gather my clean clothes and head to the shower. My headache is paramount. I am very woozy as if still drunk. I stand in the hot shower contemplating the last evening’s events as well as the last few days’ more drastic events. We had a serious drunken night, the four of us. Hailey is not a drinker, but she drank, and Karen is rarely that enthused about eating fish, much less drinking a monumental amount of sake-soaked beer, but she did. Jess was also acting abnormally. I stand in the hot water with steam rising. I think of Chris and his plans to initiate himself into his clan teachings of shape shifting. I do not like the thought of that.

  Normally there is no return from diving into the dark arts in that fashion. Men do not return from it to any degree of normalcy. The psychological trauma takes a terrible toll.