by R. Casteel
They reminded him of the carnival fortunetellers. Normal housewives and mothers who would put on gypsy garb, and for a couple of dollars look at your hand or gaze into a glass ball and tell all. He always had a good laugh at their acting ability, their mumbling of incoherent words. They were good at giving the people what they wanted to hear, painting rosy pictures of good health, a prosperous future and a long life of love and happiness.
Deception and lies. As long as a person remembered, it was just for fun.
Chapter 9
After three days of confinement, Taren was glad to get out of the house. The fight with his sister had been worth it. He was free of the crutches and on a cane, which left one hand free to use his Glock nine-millimeter, if need be. With it safely tucked in a shoulder harness, he felt more secure.
There had been no word from Linda or the Justice Department. It was as if they had forgotten about him and the dead goons now buried under a couple feet of snow. He knew that once the hit-men failed to report back, shock waves of revenge and anger would be felt all the way back to Fallings and himself.
The town of Red Rock, Montana was bustling with people. Although the ski slope had been open for almost a week, today was the official start of the skiing season. It also marked the opening of the Winter Festival that drew moderate crowds from the surrounding communities. The mood was festive and contagious. Snowballs whizzed through the air, children darted in and out of the adults, and hot chocolate was the favorite drink in the twenty-degree weather. Local craftsmen displayed their work while the contest entries of pies, cakes and jellies were all laid out for the judges. With Halloween just two days away, the haunted house was the center of attraction for the young and young at heart.
They walked along, hand in hand, looking at the exhibits.
“Shall we?” Taneika asked.
An old trailer was set up on the far edge of the grounds. A faded mural of an Indian woman covered the side with the words 'Medicine Woman, seer and fortuneteller.’ Taren knocked on the door.
When she came to the door, he stood transfixed, staring at the woman. It was impossible to determine her age. The lines of time were etched into her face. Her long, silver-white hair flowed like snow over her shoulders and fell to her waist. Her eyes danced with vitality and life. Looking into them, Taren had the strangest feeling that she was peering into the depths of his soul.
"Come, come, children. This cold is hard on an old woman's bones."
She stepped back for them to enter.
"I am She Who Walks Ahead. Please have a seat. Which one of you would like to know the path before you?"
"I would," Taneika said.
They sat at a small round table. Incense burned in a small earthen bowl, its tendril of smoke spiraled slowly toward the ceiling. Dream catchers hung suspended in each corner of the room. Prisms sent beams of multicolored light bouncing off the walls.
"Give me your hand, dear, and allow me to walk in your mind."
She took Taneika's hand and closed her eyes. The smoke from the incense encircled their heads. She Who Walks Ahead began to tremble. Her eyes opened, transfixed on Taneika as if looking through her.
Damn, she's good, Taren thought.
The old woman spoke quietly. "You are no longer a virgin. Your destiny is intertwined with an ancient legend, which has all but been forgotten. Its surety is signed in your maidens’ blood and sealed in the heavens. Your life will be changed forever in the near future. Be careful of those you put your trust in. None will understand this change and there are those who, if they found out, would destroy your life. There is evil stalking you. You must act quickly and decisively when confronted with it or face life alone."
"What is this change you speak of, oh wise women?" Taneika asked.
She shook her head. "I regret that I am fearful of telling you. Knowing about it now will not change the results. You can’t run or hide from it. And knowing what it is beforehand will only bring stress to your soul. You must remember that when it happens, you must remain calm and relaxed. Accept this change…for if you fight it, it could end your life."
"Will you tell me, She Who Walks Ahead? This change, which you speak of, when is it going to happen?”
It appeared that the woman wasn't going to answer.
Taneika added, "Please."
"When Jupiter pulls the rings of Saturn into alignment with Orion's Belt and sets the hunter free. When the moon is full and at its peak; before its ride down the mountain to the sea. Then the change will come. This, my child, your destiny shall be."
The woman let go of her hand and closed her eyes as if asleep.
Taneika sat with a bewildered look on her face. "That's it? That's all you will tell me?"
The old woman opened her eyes, which now appeared as smoked glass. "Yes." She bowed her head and folded her hands in her lap.
Taren heard the emotional and physical exhaustion in the seer’s voice. Their time was up.
He laid the money down and touched Taneika's arm. "Let's go."
* * * * *
She continued to think about the words of the old Indian woman. All her life she had wanted answers and no one could give them. Here was someone who knew the answers and wouldn't tell her.
Taren stroked her body with his hands, caressed it with his mouth, but tonight she was obsessed with what She Who Walks Ahead had spoken of. What is my destiny? What is this change that I’m supposed to blindly accept? And why?
Taren had hoped that he could, with a little tender passion, bring Taneika out of her sullen mood. Giving up, he drew her head onto his chest and wrapped his arm around her. His hand slowly stroked her black tresses. Damn that cantankerous, meddling old woman! Tomorrow she is going to give me some answers or confess that she made it up.
He arrived at the fair grounds bright and early the next morning. The workers and craftsmen were just setting up the booths for the day’s events. Taren looked for the old woman. The trailer was gone; he threw his arms up in frustration.
Taren found a worker collecting trash left from the day before. "Excuse me. Did you notice what time that trailer that was parked here left?"
"Wasn't a trailer parked there," he answered.
"It was parked there yesterday.” He pointed to an empty parking spot. “An old Airstream with a faded mural of an Indian woman on its side. She was the fortuneteller with the festival."
"Sorry.” He shook his head and leaned on a broom handle. “You must be mistaken. I was here all day yesterday. I know all the vehicles belonging to the people working here. Besides, she wouldn't have been parked there. Anyway, we don't have a fortuneteller here. Had one several years ago but she died. Come to think on it, you described her trailer to a tee. Excuse me, I have work to do."
Taren walked back to his rental and started back to Bill's house. The impact of what he had been told struck so suddenly that he slammed on the brakes, sending the car sliding sideways in the street. The car came to a jolting stop against the curb.
This…this isn't possible. I was there, we both were. She held Taneika's hand. We both heard her speak.
He became aware of someone shaking him, repeatedly saying his name. He drifted out of the fog and focused on Bill's face.
"Taren, come on. Speak to me.” Bills voice began to register.
"What happened?" Taren asked, seeing the concern written on Bill’s features.
"I was hoping you could tell me. Someone in the cafe saw you slam into the curb and almost flip the car. You've been sitting here for half an hour with your engine racing and your doors locked. I finally got one of them open and turned off the engine."
"I don't. . .remember any of it."
"Well, you look like shit. When I got here, you were shaking like a leaf. What did you see, a ghost?" Bill laughed.
"Yeah.” Wearily he laid his head against the back of the seat. “I…think I did."
"Taren, you're not making any sense. I'm confused." Bill knelt in the snow. Concern for his brothe
r-in-law etched on his brow.
In bewilderment, he turned his head and stared at Bill. “I know the feeling."
"Come on, we'll get a cup of coffee and you can tell me about it, from the beginning." Bill helped him out and back to the squad car.
"I should be getting back to the house. Taneika will be wondering what's taking me so long."
"You won't be taking your rental.” Bill handed him a steaming cup. “You blew out both tires when you hit the curb. I'll call the wrecker and give you a lift."
He had lost an hour in some mind-numbing never-never land. He laid his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. "Shit." How am I going to explain something like this? What the hell am I going to tell Taneika?
"I got in contact with the rental company. They'll send a wrecker.”
"Thanks."
Taren sat waiting for Bill to pull the police cruiser out into traffic. The warmth of the cup crept into his cold hands.
"Taren, I have known you for several years now. You want to explain what this ghost crap is all about?”
He stared out the passenger window. "Not really. I'm not sure I can."
"Try."
Bill's tone left no room for argument. Taren took a swallow and scalded his tongue on the hot liquid. "It happened at the festival yesterday . . . .”
* * * * *
"That's what the man said. Honest." Taren pleaded for Bill’s understanding even though he didn’t.
Bill stared in disbelief at him for several minutes and then left the curb, heading out of town. Taren wondered where they were going when Bill pulled into a junkyard. He drove slowly between rusting piles of wrecked cars and trucks.
Taren saw it, an old silver Airstream that was crushed on one side. Visible, though distorted by the damage, was a faded mural of an Indian princess.
"Over twenty years it’s been sitting right there.” Bill's voice broke the silence. "Her truck and trailer went off a cliff during a snow storm, but they never found her body.
"What are you going to tell Taneika?" Bill put the car in gear and headed for the entrance.
"Christ, Bill, I don’t understand it myself! You want to try and explain that the trailer she sat in yesterday has been in the junk yard for twenty years and the woman she spoke to, in all probability, is dead?"
"No." He felt Taren’s frustration and understood his aggressive attitude. Backing up, he turned around and headed home.
Taren finished his coffee and slowly crushed the disposable cup and tossed it in the floorboard. If only I could solve my problems by crumpling them up and throwing them away.
Bill pulled into his drive and parked beside a Ford F150 pickup. “Friend of yours, I hope.”
“Yeah, my partner Nick. Wonder what brings him up here?”
“Let’s go find out.”
Once inside, Taren and Nick shook hands.
“Looks like you met Jeanie and Taneika. This is Sheriff Bill Yates. Bill, Officer Nick Strange, Department of Interior.”
He watched as the two shook hands, sizing each other up.
“What brings you up this way?” Taren sat carefully on a kitchen chair. “Fallings can you too.”
Nick pulled out a chair, flipped it around and straddled the seat. “Last couple of days he has been happy as a brown bear with a tree full of honey. Fallings went on the warpath as of this morning demanding that I take him up in the chopper and find you. I told him the bird was down for parts, and that I was going to get them. No one knows what set him off, but I figured that you should know.”
“Take him up and get him to tell you where to go. That will prove that he gave the location to the mob when they sent their goons after us. Maybe we can get him for conspiracy to commit murder, and he will squeal on the Chicago boys for a reduced plea. I am convinced that he is running drugs from somewhere within the park. We may not get him for the murder of Agent Majors, no matter how much we, or his daughter, are convinced he is guilty.”
“Majors,” Taneika said. “Isn’t that the Under Secretary’s name?”
“Yes, Agent Majors was her dad. He had been stationed here his whole career and was soon to retire. He knew Yellowstone like the back of his hand. Some hunters found his body in a ravine. He had been shot, close range in the back of the head.”
“If I am going to take him flying tomorrow,” Nick stood, and with a quick turn of the wrist placed the chair under the table, “I need to be going. I called in an order this morning for a part, just to be safe in case Fallings checks up on me.”
Taren eased up and walked outside with him. “Watch your back, friend.”
“You too. When you coming back?”
“Couple days, just enough time to let him see the cabin and the blood everywhere. When I show up in the office, it may be just the surprise we need.”
“Let me know if you need anything.” Nick got in his truck and drove away.
The sound of the back door closing caught his attention. Taren turned and Bill came over to where he was standing. “I have to get back to work. Jeanie asked why I was home, told her you slid and hit a curb. We don’t have any secrets, Taren…it helps her understand the pressures of the job. If Taneika hadn’t been standing there, I’d have told her everything, as bizarre as it is.”
They were waiting when Taren went in. He glanced from Jeanie—who had been a substitute mother, a big sister and friend; to Taneika—who had quickly become a part of him. It was a new experience, this feeling he had towards her. Was it love? If it was, he hoped it would last.
“Where did you go so early this morning?” Jeanie asked.
“Out to the festival grounds.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced at the cool bitter taste.
“Why?” Taneika asked.
“Shit” Taren got up, hopped to the counter and poured a cup of coffee.
“Quit stalling, Brother.”
“I wanted to talk to the fortuneteller.”
“Why?”
Taneika drilled him with a stern look of determination.
“I wanted to get more information from her about our visit yesterday, find out more about these strange predictions she made. But she wasn’t there.”
“Maybe she’ll be back later,” Jeanie offered.”
“I know this is going to sound strange, but she was never there.”
Taneika’s eyes opened wider.
“Apparently no one but us saw her or talked to her.”
“Brother, you realize what you’re saying is a little hard to believe?”
“It doesn’t end there. Bill took me out to the junkyard on the edge of town. The trailer we sat in yesterday has been there for twenty years. Same Airstream, same mural on the side. The truck and trailer went over a cliff, and her body was never found.”
Chapter 10
Taren watched as her eyes glistened, the muscles and tendons in her arms tightened. She stood slowly, turned and walked over to the fireplace. In an almost distracted manner, she undressed and sat Indian fashion on the stone hearth. He started to rise and go to her, but his sister’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“This is something she has to work out. We don’t understand this, she does. She was raised among the Indians. Not much is known about certain Native American rituals. Don’t interfere.”
Taren sat back in his chair. Knowing Jeanie was right didn’t make it any easier. He felt out of control, unable to do anything, and that fueled the frustration that was building within him.
Taneika sat so close to the fire that he was sure she would get burned. Beads of sweat formed on her face and breasts. She raised her hands as if praying. The sound of her low chanting came to him, drifting in the air. It was a mysterious sound. The soft musical notes surrounded Taren, invading his mind and soul. His eyes closed, he seemed to be floating with the music, suspended above the table.
A cold breeze swept by, kissing him on the cheek. His eyes snapped open, riveted on the center of the room. A semi-transparent, cloud-like apparition
stood behind Taneika.
Taren tried to call out and warn her, but he couldn’t speak.
It swirled around her, enveloping her in a misty shroud.
He looked at his sister. She was standing at the kitchen counter, a warm smile spread across her face, her hands busy preparing a meal. Jeanie wasn’t aware of what was going on. The door opened and he turned around. Bill walked through the door and stopped, confusion written across his face like the headline news. Taren glanced down and saw himself, sitting at the table. What the….
A heavy weight settled on Taren. The sounds around him began to filter in and register.
“. . .been that way since this morning,” Jeanie said.
Taren shifted his eyes to the window and saw that the sky was dark. The clock on the wall showed six o’clock. Where had the day gone?
“She’s been sitting there all day…like that,” Bill said, his eyes drawn to Taneika’s nude body.
“They both have.” Jeanie shrugged her shoulders and smiled sheepishly.
A low rumble from the hollow pit of his gut attested to the fact that he hadn’t eaten. A strong demanding urge to piss overcame him. Taren shifted the chair, his legs felt heavy, awkward. Still trying to grasp what Jeanie had said, he made his way to the bathroom.
Bill followed and stood leaning in the doorway.
“Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”
“Wish I could, Bill, but. . .I honestly don’t know. Taneika started this Indian chant and the next think I know you’re home.”
“Taren, you saw something here today you aren’t telling me. Did she have another visit from the fortuneteller?”
He shook himself and zipped his pants. “She had a visitor…who or what it was, I don’t know. Not sure I want to.”
“I’m not sure you should stay here.” Bill heaved a heavy sigh. “I have my family to think of, and this is well beyond my thinking.”