by David Wood
The moment passed all to quickly and he returned to full alertness when Jessie elbowed him in the ribs. “You still with me?”
“Just taking it all in.”
Jessie smiled and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I knew it. Within that coarse exterior lies the soul of a poet.”
“Yeah.” Bones let out a little chuckle. “There once was a girl from Nantucket...”
“I’ve never heard that one,” Jessie said. “Was that Henry David Thoreau?”
“More like Henry David Bathroomwall.” Bones looked around. “So, what all is up here?”
“According to Mari’s directions, we first have to find the...” She furrowed her brow and stared intently at a small notepad. “The kettle’s coat?” She cocked her head, bemused. Bones couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked at that moment.
“What’s that again?”
“She says it’s like, Aztec, or something.”
“Could she have possibly said Quetzalcoatl?” Bones asked.
“That’s it. You’re brilliant.” Jessie punched him on the shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Bones didn’t dignify the question. Instead, he began the search for something that resembled the feathered serpent of Mesoamerican lore. After a brief search, the only thing they had spotted that even vaguely fit the bill was a pictograph that looked more like an inchworm from a children’s storybook than the ancient deity.
“Could this be it?” he asked.
“She did say it looked kind of like a snake or a worm. What is it supposed to look like?”
“Uglier, angrier, more feathered.” He knelt down for a closer look. “I suppose some of these lines could signify feathers.” He ran his finger along the line of the twisting creature, being careful not to actually touch it. “I still say it’s an inchworm, but for now, let’s say it’s Quetzalcoatl. What’s next?”
Jessie consulted their notes. “Now we find the tortoise.”
They scoured the mountaintop, inspecting the various ruins that comprised what Jessie said might have once been an ancient settlement.
“Some researchers have identified these ruins as dwellings and an animal enclosure. Some say it served the purpose of defense and was used as an observation post.”
“All I know is, I don’t see a single stone or structure that’s shaped like a tortoise.” He looked around, and his eyes fell on a dark stone covered in tiny images. “Let’s take another look at the star map.”
The so-called “star map” depicted the zodiac constellations Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra, and Virgo, as well as several other constellations. Based on the positions of the various stars, and the location of an image some believed to be a representation of a total solar eclipse, combined with the orientation of the stone, it was theorized that this map dated back to the year 107 BCE.
“It’s not shaped like a tortoise,” Jessie mused.
“No, but maybe there’s something hidden in the star patterns. I was so focused on the shape of the rocks that I might have missed something.”
“I thought you said you’ve solved a bunch of mysteries.”
“I work with a partner. I’m brute force; he’s fine detail.”
“That Maddock guy?” Jessie asked, skirting a stone carved with a Hebrew phrase that, according to their notes, translated to, Jehovah our Mighty One. “Maybe you should give him a call. Get us some backup.”
“Not happening. He’s on a cruise with my sister. Even if I could reach him, he couldn’t get back, and my sister wouldn’t let him.”
Jessie pursed her lips. “Won’t let him?”
“If you knew my sister, you’d understand.” Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he took out his cellphone and saw that he had one bar of service. “Check this out.” He called Maddock’s number and switched to speaker phone. A long silence ensued, followed by two crackly rings, and then Angel’s voice came on the line.
“He’s on vacation, assclown.”
“Angel, I need...” The call ended. Bones smiled at Jessie. “If I call again, she’ll block my number. Guaranteed.”
“Loving family you’ve got there.”
“It works for us. I’m not exactly brother of the year.”
Jessie let it drop as they reached the star map. “I don’t see a tortoise.”
“Wait a minute.” Bones slowly circled the stone. “I’m an idiot. Look at it from this angle.”
Jessie moved within a few paces of him and halted. “You’re standing in a patch of yucca.”
“Which is why we didn’t see it before. Look there.”
“Jerry is a tortoise?”
In the middle of the stone, a person had carved his name. Bones grimaced. “Don’t you love people who deface historical sites? Somebody ought to slap him and the person who raised him.”
Jessie flashed a sly grin. “So, your parents are to blame for your misdeeds.”
“Fair point. Comment withdrawn. At least, the last part. But look at the ‘y’ in ‘Jerry’ and then let your eyes move straight up from there. See it?” He pointed to a white circle with six short, thick lines extending from it.
“Oh my God! From where we were standing I thought it was some kind of sun or star.”
“It might be, but from here, it definitely looks like a tortoise.”
“Cool. So, Mari said she hid it where Quetzal...whatever and the tortoise can keep an eye on it.” She rolled her eyes. “I still don’t understand why she couldn’t just say ‘I hid it here.’ Must have been all the pain meds.”
“Maybe. Then again, if it’s in the middle of the ruins, there’s not much to distinguish one pile of rubble from another.” He scanned the site. “Tell you what. You go put your back to Quetzalcoatl and walk straight ahead. I’ll do the same from here. Wherever we meet, that’s where we’ll start our search.”
“Fine. Make me walk all the way over there.”
“You want to stand in the yucca? Be my guest.”
Jessie declined by way of raising her middle finger, then proceeded to the Quetzalcoatl pictograph. They proceeded according to Bones’ plan and, after a bit of clambering over low walls and piles of lose stone, they found themselves standing before a nondescript heap of rock.
“You were right. There really wasn’t a good way for her to give us the location. Assuming, of course, this is the right place.” She stared doubtfully at the stones.
“We’re about to find out.” Bones didn’t expect to encounter any snakes or scorpions up here, but he gave the pile a few kicks and a visual once-over before setting to work. In a few minutes, he’d uncovered a smooth, flat stone. He shifted it aside.
“Bingo!” Jessie exclaimed.
A gray, metal box sat in a shallow hole. Bones lifted it out and set it on the ground. “It’s heavy.”
“Duh. It’s made of metal and is filled with paper.”
“Thanks. In the future, I’ll remember not to keep you in the loop.”
“Did I hurt your feelings?” Jessie teased.
“Chick, you’re about to make the climb down the mountain Jack-and-Jill style. Now shut up and tell me the combination.”
“Mari’s birth year. 1988.”
Bones turned the dials on the simple lock and raised the lid. Inside lay, several manila envelopes encased in a large Ziploc bag. Bones eased the entire package out.
“Put this in your backpack,” he said. “I know we probably won’t run into anyone on the way back to the truck, but if we do, I don’t want to be seen carrying this box.” Jessie did as instructed, while Bones returned the box to its hiding place and then replaced the stones. When they were finished, he stood, brushed his hands on his jeans, and then stretched. “Dude, my back is killing me.”
“If that’s your way of asking for a backrub, forget it. After the Jack and Jill comment, you’re on my list until you redeem yourself.”
Bones was about to retort when a sound caught his ears.
“Quiet!” he whispered. He put a hand on Jes
sie’s shoulder and the two of them ducked down behind the nearest wall.
“What is it?” she mouthed.
“Someone’s coming. And whoever it is, he’s trying not to be heard.”
Chapter 28
Bones and Jessie hunched down behind the wall. Bones focused, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. Above the sound of the heavy wind that blew across the mountaintop, he could just make out the occasional scuff of sole meeting stone.
He quickly determined that only one person approached. He laid a hand on Jessie’s shoulder and then dared a peek over the edge of the wall.
A stout man of late middle years stood about twenty paces away, thumbs tucked in his belt, turning in a slow circle. His facial features identified him as a member of one of the local Native American pueblos, and his weathered skin, faded jeans, cowboy boots, and oversized belt buckle suggested a rancher. He carried no weapon that Bones could see.
He relaxed. Just a local checking things out. Probably wondering to whom the pickup truck parked on the road belonged.
As the man turned away from the wall, Bones stood.
“How’s it going?”
The man snapped his head around, his annoyed frown giving way to a smirk as his eyes fell on Bones.
“You caught me by surprise. For a second there I thought it was because I was getting old, but you’re one of us. Sort of.”
“Cherokee.” Bones rounded the broken wall and approached the man, an easy smile on his face. “I’m Bonebrake, but everyone calls me Bones.”
The man scowled, then reached out and took Bones’ proffered hand in a powerful, heavily calloused grip.
“Nick Padilla.” The man’s frown returned. “I didn’t know there were Cherokee in Florida.”
Bones shrugged. “Originally from North Carolina. What can I say? I love the beach.”
“You also love trespassing, I see.”
Bones frowned. “I thought this was public land. We got our permit from the...”
Padilla waved away the explanation. “Freaking government. This is right in the middle of Isleta land. You know why they hold on to it? Water rights, and because people like you are willing to drop twenty bucks just to see a forgery.”
“Twenty-five, actually.” Bones had not, in fact, secured a permit, but he had looked it up online and remembered the cost.
If it was a test, he apparently passed, because Padilla nodded. “I don’t suppose they told you that a courtesy call was in order before you crossed tribal land?”
Bones shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Padilla cleared his throat, spat on the ground, and kicked sand over the fat glob of phlegm. “You know this is all a bunch of crap, don’t you? The stone is a prank played by UNM students back before I was born, and the rest of this is just graffiti.”
“Aren’t some of the images genuine?” Jessie asked.
“A few, but nothing you can’t see other places. Take him over to the Petroglyph Monument. You won’t have to trespass in order to see it.”
“I like unusual places,” Bones said. “Just thought we’d check it out.”
“If you’re done, I’ll walk you back to your truck.” Padilla folded his arms and locked eyes with Bones. The man was determined.
Bones stared back. When pushed, his natural inclination was to push back even harder, but he didn’t want a confrontation with Padilla. The man was just looking out for his people, and as a Native American, Bones had some idea of how the man felt about outsiders.
“You seem in a hurry to get us out of here,” Bones said. “Is there some big secret we haven’t discovered yet?”
That elicited a chuckle from Padilla. “Maybe you should be trying to discover the identity of the white dudes surveilling your truck. The blue pickup with Florida plates?”
“Seriously?” Bones kept his voice calm though his insides were ice.
“Parked behind a stand of juniper. They had just gotten out of their car and were walking toward the gate when I rolled up. They saw me and jumped back in. Whatever they’re up to, I guess they don’t want witnesses.” Padilla hesitated. “I hope you can understand why I feel like you’ve brought unwanted trouble onto the pueblo.”
“I stuck my nose into a situation, a guy putting his hands on his girlfriend. The dude said I could expect a visit from his friends.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue, the shreds of truth lending it a touch of authenticity. At least, he hoped that was the case.
“It’s true,” Jessie said. “I know the girl.”
“Seems like a strange place to do it,” Padilla said, “but like I said, I guess they don’t want witnesses.” He looked Bones up and down. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you could handle them both, but why borrow trouble?” He considered the situation for a few moments and then nodded. “Tell you what. I’ll take you the back way to the ranch house. In a few hours, I’ll send somebody for your truck.”
“I hate to get you involved,” Bones said.
“Don’t mention it. Life on the ranch is boring. I almost hope they try something.”
Bones laughed. “Mister Padilla, you are a man after my own heart.”
The main house of Padilla’s ranch was a single-story adobe structure. The central house had been added on to over the years, giving it a cobbled-together appearance. The enticing aroma of roast chile greeted them at the door, and Bones’ stomach let out a low rumble.
“You got that right,” Padilla said. “Mama can cook, and you’re just in time for lunch.”
Padilla’s wife, a round woman with silver-streaked black hair and a friendly smile, greeted them warmly. Soon they were gorging themselves on homemade tortillas stuffed with a concoction of beef, green chile, and pinto beans, and washed it down with ice cold Tecate beer.
It was some of the best food Bones had ever tasted. As they drank and chatted, Padilla’s tongue loosened, and he began regaling them with stories and legends he’d heard in his youth. Tales of ghosts, vanished persons and lost treasure.
“What about aliens?” Bones asked. “I know about Roswell, but are there any others?”
Padilla replied immediately. “Archuleta Mesa. That’s the place you want to check out. Well, don’t actually check it out, or else you’ll wind up in federal prison. At least, if the rumors are true.”
“What rumors would those be?” Jessie asked.
“Supposedly, there’s an underground base there—a base where the military works jointly with aliens.”
Jessie cocked her head to the side. “Working jointly to do what?”
“Biological stuff. Genetic experiments on animals, maybe even humans.” He took a swig of beer. “Back in the late seventies, a researcher started intercepting signals that he believed came from alien spacecraft. His search led him to Dulce, up by the Colorado border. Strange things going on up there, even today: missing or mutilated livestock, missing people, weird electro-whatever that messes with TV and cell phone reception, snatches of strange speech occasionally bleeding into radio coverage.”
“Are they just rumors, or do you think there’s something to it?” Jessie pressed.
“I think ninety-nine percent of UFO rumors are bigger crap than what my cattle leave behind, but there’s something to this one. I’ve witnessed some of the phenomena firsthand when I was visiting a friend up there on the Jicarilla reservation.”
“Wouldn’t something like that be difficult to hide?” Bones asked.
“Not if it’s under the mesa. And that’s the only place it could be.” Padilla sat his beer down and laced his fingers together. “Look, Dulce is a nothing town in the middle of a wide open stretch of even more nothing. That interference and those communications are coming from somewhere, and the closer you get to the mesa, the stronger they get. Compasses don’t work there.” His eyes took on a faraway cast, and he fell silent for a few seconds, lost in thought. Then he shook his head. “It’s some X-Files stuff to be sure.”
“If it’s so wide open
, wouldn’t people see UFOs coming and going?” Bones asked.
“There are the occasional sightings, mostly strange lights, and noises, but I suspect those are terrestrial in origin. Military craft.” Now Padilla leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But I think the aliens live underground.”
Chapter 29
“Aliens living underground?” Jessie asked, keeping her tone conversational. “I’ve read a little about that. Do you think there’s any connection to the Puebloan legends about ant people?”
“Somebody’s done her homework.” Padilla grinned. “I do think there’s a connection.”
“Now Papi,” his wife scolded, “they will think you are crazy, like that man with the funny hair on that program you watch.”
“Ancient Aliens?” Bones said. “I love that show.”
Senora Padilla gave a shake of her head and pushed back from the table. “I see I am outnumbered. Time to do the dishes.” She stood, collected their plates, and headed to the kitchen, graciously declining Bones’ and Jessie’s offers to help. “You will be a greater help to me if you listen to his stories, so I don’t have to.” She flashed a loving smile at her husband, who grinned back at her.
“Anyway,” Padilla began, “I know how this must sound, but I don’t believe in most of the really out there,” he bracketed the words in air quotes, “legends. No Bigfoot, Nessie, or Elvis returned from the grave.”
“He faked his death,” Bones said.
“Right,” Padilla deadpanned. “While I don’t have patience for that sort of thing, I believe there’s something to these alien theories. First of all, with the sheer size of our universe, it’s crazy to believe that intelligent life didn’t evolve anywhere but here. To me, that’s the crazy idea.”
Bones nodded. The man had no idea just how right he was.
“I think extraterrestrial visitors are the source of at least some of our myths and legends, the source of some ancient knowledge, and played a part in human evolution.” Padilla took a drink and let that statement sink in.
“And you think New Mexico is one of the places aliens interacted with humans?” Bones asked.