by Rada, J. R.
“Thanks for talking with us,” the reporter with the thick western accent said.
“I hope you’re feeling well soon,” the older woman said.
“Me, too,” David replied.
The young, sexy reporter moved close to him. “When you do remember everything that happened to you, I hope you’ll let me interview you again. Maybe we can meet in more pleasant surroundings.”
David felt himself blush. It was almost like he was cheating on Terrie. He wondered where she was.
David smiled sheepishly. “I’d like that very much,” David told her. He wondered if she was toying with him or if she was attracted to him.
He watched the reporters shuffle out of the room. When the last of them had gone, he felt as if the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. He lay back on his bed and sighed.
“Mr. Purcell?”
David sat up quickly. He thought everyone had left. This didn’t sound like one of the reporters, though. It was an older voice; it had a hesitancy of speech that David associated with senior citizens. Sitting in a chair in a corner of the room was an old Indian dressed in blue jeans and a red and black, short-sleeved shirt. Beside the old Indian stood a younger woman about David’s age. She was quite attractive. Almost as attractive as the sexy television reporter.
“Who are you?” David asked a bit too sharply. He didn’t like being taken by surprise.
“My name is Adam Maho, but most white men just call me Adam. I’m a Hopi. I live in Oraibi on Third Mesa in Arizona. This is my granddaughter, Sarah.” He motioned to the woman. “We’ve come a long way to speak with you.”
“Your granddaughter doesn’t have a second Hopi name?” David asked out of curiosity.
“No,” Adam said simply.
“My mother didn’t have me go through the naming ceremony,” Sarah said. She had a lyrical voice that was quite pleasant to listen to, although, there was a hint of hardness to her words.
“I’m not sure why you’ve come all the way from Arizona to see me, but I don’t feel much up to company right now. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to rest now. The press conference was more draining than I thought it would be.”
Adam stood up and moved closer to him. “What I’ve come to speak with you is more important than the questions you answered for the reporters.”
David crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know about that. Those guys thought their stories were pretty important.”
He tried to smile and be pleasant, but all he really wanted was to lie down and rest.
“I must speak to you about Kuskurza,” Adam said in a loud whisper.
A pain shot through David’s temples and he grabbed his head.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked.
David nodded. “I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked away from it.
“I just wanted to help you,” Adam said.
“Well, you’re no doctor. I don’t even know you. Listen, this has all been fun, but I really need to rest.”
“But I must speak to you about Kuskurza,” Adam insisted.
The pain shot through David’s temples again. Was it that Indian word that was making his head hurt?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please leave before I have the nurse call security,” David warned them.
“But I cannot. You have found a sipapu and it must be closed.”
“Sipapu...an emergence hole,” David murmured to himself.
Adam’s face brightened. “Yes! You know of it then.”
“No I don’t,” David said quickly.
“But you just said...” Sarah started to say.
“I know what I just said, but I’ve never heard the word before you said it,” David snapped. He was confused as to how he knew what a sipapu was because he had truly never heard the word before the old man said it.
David grabbed for the nurse call button and held it out toward them as a threat. It didn’t take much to bring the kooks crawling out of the woodwork. They heard he fell into a cave and suddenly they wanted to share their life experiences with him.
“I asked you nicely before, but now I’m going to have to get a nurse in here to lead you out.”
Sarah grabbed her grandfather by the arm. “Come on, Grandfather. He’s just another white man. There’s nothing special about him. He won’t be able to help us.”
Adam sighed. He stared at David and shook his head slowly. Then he turned and slowly walked out of the room with his granddaughter. He paused at the door and cast one more sorrowful glance in David’s direction. Then the door closed.
David relaxed his grip on the nurse call button and lay back. His head didn’t hurt any more. What had made it hurt in the first place? Could a single Indian word have caused the pain? He didn’t think so, but his temples had only hurt when Adam said Kuskurza.
David wondered what the word meant. Probably nothing important. He turned on the television to watch a rerun of Bonanza.
CHAPTER 9
Centuries ago, a small rock slide crashed onto the small ledge on the side of the Woodenshoe Buttes and settled in a pile in the crevice between the butte and the ledge. It had remained undisturbed ever since. In front of the pile of tightly packed rocks, lilies grew up between cracks in the ledge. The ledge offered a scenic view of the surrounding country seldom seen because of the difficulty involved in climbing up to the rock shelf from the ground.
A rock in the middle of the pile moved slightly. Just a wiggle, an imperceptible shift that caused a few pebbles to tumble down the exterior of the pile. After a moment of stillness, it moved again. The distance of the movement was no more than a half an inch, but there was no apparent cause for it.
Suddenly, the rock disappeared into the pile leaving a black hole in its place. The two rocks that formed one side of the border of the black hole vanished next. It looked as if the small rockfall was collapsing in on itself. When the collapse was complete, all of the rocks had vanished, and in their place was a three-foot wide hole.
A pale, white hand with six-inch fingers appeared at the edge of the darkness created by the hole. It slid forward along the shelf of rock until it reached the edge of the shadow caused by the sun and the butte. The hand remained motionless inside the edge of the shadow for about ten seconds, and then retreated back into the darkness of the hole.
A pale, white face filled the space of the hole. His white hair was tied in a long braid, which hung down his back. His large eyes were closed. Kel´hoya took a deep breath and then opened his eyes wide. He quickly squinted as he looked at the sun, but he refused to fully close his eyes. He blinked away the tears that streamed from his eyes. His dark-brown eyes only intensified the paleness of his skin.
“The sun,” Kel´hoya whispered. His words were not English, but of a language that had not been spoken on the surface for centuries.
Never had he seen anything so bright. The small pieces of the sun that So´tuknang had left behind to light Kuskurza and imprison the dark kachinas were nothing in comparison to this. Even the sunbeams the dark kachinas sometimes gave the Bow Clan to use to see in the dark tunnels were not this bright.
Legends talked of the sun as the giver of light far beyond the power of darkness. If the legends spoke the truth about the sun, what else might they speak the truth about?
Kel´hoya thought of the stories told by the dark kachinas told about the Outlanders, the people who lived in this world outside of Kuskurza. It was said death awaited any from Kuskurza who ventured to the surface. Taiowa had forbidden the members of the Bow Clan to leave Kuskurza because they had used their creative powers to follow the dark kachinas and rebel against the teachings of Taiowa.
But how could something so beautiful be so deadly? He reached out and touched the petals of the nearest lily. The colors were so vibrant! Bright yellow, red, and green. The flowers and plants in Kuskurza were so pale it was difficult to say if they had any color.
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The dark kachinas had warned Kel´hoya and his companion, To´chi, of the dangers of the surface. Their journey would be dangerous, and they could not allow themselves to be lured into a feeling of security by the beauty of the place. The dark kachinas had told them they would die before they could ever return to Kuskurza, but before they died, they must kill the one the Sun Clan called Pahana, their lost brother. He could tell other Outlanders of the existence of Kuskurza and that the dark kachinas still lived. If that happened, Taiowa might return to strengthen the weakening prisons that held the dark kachinas. All that had been gained over the centuries of waiting would be lost in moments.
Kel´hoya looked over his shoulder and said, “If we leave the protection of the sipapu, we will be killed as the ancient ones were.”
He chose to speak to To´chi, rather than think his words. He had been told to do so by the dark kachinas, even though it was not the way of the Bow Clan. The Bow Clan communicated by sending their thoughts to each other. By doing that, the mighty Bow Clan could act as the body of the dark kachinas in their war against the Sun Clan, the children of Ma´saw. By speaking to To´chi, Kel´hoya ensured that the rest of the Bow Clan would not hear his thoughts and grow curious about the surface.
Kel´hoya was glad the other members of the Bow Clan did not know his thoughts for another reason. For the first time in his life, he knew fear. To venture beyond Kuskurza was to venture into lands he knew only through legend. The Fourth World was unknown. No one from Kuskurza had ventured to the surface in centuries. No one would have had to come now if the Outlanders hadn’t sent Pahana to spy on the dark kachinas. Pahana had seen Kuskurza and inspired the Sun Clan and the slaves to continue their rebellion against the Bow Clan and the dark kachinas. Already the slaves were rallying to the cause of the Sun Clan. To those who were foolish enough to believe that life was better in Tu´waqachi, Pahana was a symbol from Taiowa that they would be allowed to leave Kuskurza for the Fourth World to dwell with Taiowa.
Now that Kel´hoya had seen Tu´waqachi, he wondered who the true fool was. The Sun Clan and the slaves who believed they would see this world or the Bow Clan and the dark kachinas who tried not to believe this world existed? It was a thought that would mean his death in Kuskurza.
Kel´hoya had no desire to leave the safety of the sipapu, and he was not alone in his feeling, either. To´chi had grown continually nervous and more silent as they made their way from the safety of Kuskurza where the dark kachinas ruled to their current position just inside the sipapu. It did not take a telepath to understand those emotions. In front of them was Tu´waqachi, the Fourth World. Kel´hoya could not blame his companion for his nervousness. He felt it too.
This was the sipapu of the ancient ones. This was the passage taken by The People to the surface during the great exodus. All but the members of the Bow Clan had been allowed to leave Kuskurza. The Bow Clan had been forced to stay below with the dark kachinas. The flood waters sent by So´tuknang had killed most of the Bow Clan, but a few managed to survive. The strong and determined had climbed to the tops of the great stone mountains where the dark kachinas were imprisoned by Taiowa the Creator. The destroying waters did not reach the tops of the stone mountains, and the Bow Clan had dwelt there for many days. When the waters receded, the few remaining Bow Clansmen had been left alone to serve and care for the dark kachinas in the small area that was all that remained of Kuskurza.
This world Kel´hoya was seeing now was what the Sun Clan still sought to find. The dark kachinas had told the Bow Clan and the slaves that the sipapu did not exist; Tu´waqachi did not exist. And yet, here was the proof. The Sun Clan was right. Kel´hoya now realized why the dark kachinas ordered the Bow Clan to kill anyone who ventured too close to the sipapu. This world would lure anyone who saw it away from Kuskurza leaving the dark kachinas alone. Even if they were free, the dark kachinas would not be able to remain long in the Fourth World. They would always have to return to Kuskurza and to the safety of the darkness.
“We are protected with the power of the dark kachinas,” To´chi said from behind him. “As long as we do their will, we will not die.”
Kel´hoya was tempted to remind his companion of the dark kachinas’ warning that they would die before they reached Kuskurza again, even if they did carry out their mission.
“Look at this world, To´chi. It is even larger than Kuskurza. How can we find Pahana within this world where we are the Outlanders?”
Kel´hoya withdrew into the hole. His pale face was replaced by the equally pale face of his companion. To´chi stuck his face out of the hole and stared at the blue sky. He took a deep breath of the mountain air and coughed. He quickly withdrew into the shelter of the sipapu.
“The air is poison. It makes me dizzy,” To´chi said between coughs.
“Here, Kuskurza ends,” Kel´hoya said.
“How will we know where to go to find Pahana?”
Kel´hoya remembered the commands of the dark kachinas. “We will wait until the sun sleeps as the dark kachinas have told us it will. We will rest, and the dark kachinas will have to show us where we must go if we are to succeed. When they have shown us, we will go there on the pa´tuwvotas and complete our mission.”
“And the air?” To´chi asked.
“It is not poison, only different.”
The two white forms retreated deeper into the shadows of the cavern. When the dark kachinas showed their power and vanquished the sun from the sky, the Bow Clan would venture onto the surface to kill Pahana.
CHAPTER 10
David lay in his bed staring out his window wondering what it had been like lying in utter darkness for five weeks. With no light at all. Darkness so dark that there were fish that lived in caves with no eyes because there was nothing to see. Their eyes had atrophied from non-use until the fish became genetically eyeless. He wondered why the reporters hadn’t asked him that question. What was it like living in total darkness for five weeks? If they had, they might have gotten a good look at his fear.
Of course, he had been in a situation that might have led to his total blindness, but he couldn’t remember anything about it. He knew there must have been some sort of light; otherwise, he would be blind now and living in a permanent darkness.
An overweight woman opened his door enough to stick her head inside the room. “David?” she said cautiously.
David smiled. “Mom.”
Marcy Purcell pushed open the door and rushed to her son, her large body rippled like a wave beneath her pink-striped dress. She grabbed hold of David’s shoulders, kissed him once on the cheek, and then buried his face in a smothering hug.
“Oh, Davey.”
Lewis Purcell silently followed his wife into the room. He stood on the opposite side of the bed across from his wife. David stared at his parents wondering why they looked different. Then he realized they looked tired. How long it had been since they had a good night’s sleep? What had they done while the search-and-rescue team was looking for him? Worry. Wait for the bad news that his body had been found.
His parents’ contrasting sizes reminded David of the old-time comedy teams he enjoyed watching on television. Laurel and Hardy. Abbott and Costello. Gleason and Carney. And now Mom and Dad.
“Oh, Davey! I was so relieved when the police called and said they had found you. I knew you weren’t dead. People were beginning to say that after five weeks you would have had to have died. Oh, they didn’t say it to my face, but I could tell what they were whispering when I wasn’t around. I knew differently, though. And you showed ‘em, Davey. You showed ‘em. I knew you would. Didn’t I, Lew?” She looked across the bed at her husband.
Lewis nodded his head. “Yes, you did, but I didn’t believe he was dead, either,” Lewis said in his own defense. “I know my boy’s a tough scrapper.” He lightly punched David on the shoulder. “Besides, he was a Boy Scout. He was trained to know how to handle himself in that type of situation.” Lewis leaned closer to his son. “Do you remember that ti
me your troop went caving, and your flashlight...”
“Lewis!” Marcy said sharply. “He just came out of that pit! Do you think he wants to be reminded of another time when he was in one?”
His mother was right. He would rather not remember that caving trip with the Boy Scouts, but now that his father had mentioned it, David couldn’t help but remember. He and sixteen other boys had made up Troop 558. David had been a Life Scout before he quit in his junior year of high school. His friends had thought the Boy Scouts were for little boys, and at sixteen, they were too old to dress in khaki uniforms. Someone should have reminded them that the army did the same thing and no one called them “babies.” His troop liked doing outdoor activities. He could remember rafting down the Colorado River, hiking to the Phantom Ranch in the Grand Canyon, and rappelling off a cliff in the Wasatch Mountains.
Then there was the caving trip. He had been twelve years old when his troop decided to go caving. They chose a cave the scoutmaster knew in Glen Canyon. Ten boys and four adults had gone on the trip. About halfway through the trip, David had heard a sound like thunder inside the cave. He stopped to listen, and the next thing David remembered was that he had been alone in the darkness of the cave, and then...
And then what?
He couldn’t remember. That whole experience in the cave was the reason why at the age of twenty-six, he still slept with a nightlight on. That cave and the darkness had terrified him for some reason, yet he had never been afraid of the dark before that time in the cave. So it had to be something more than the darkness and the cave.
What?
David patted his mother’s arm. “Mom, you can let me go now. I’m all right.”