The Phantom

by Rob MacGregor

The Hopis and other Pueblo Indians knew it as Walker’s Table, a place thought to be haunted by spirits, among them the Ghost Who Walks. Kit had been fascinated by the Hopi’s kachinas, which were a lot like the nature spirits and spirit guides of the Bangallan tribes. He was intrigued by how cultures, separated by thousands of miles, had such similar beliefs in an invisible world that was intricately connected with the forces of nature.

  When he’d met Diana, he’d told her he was staying with another missionary in one of the other Hopi villages. He was amazed by how readily she’d accepted his offer to sneak out and visit an old Hopi storyteller. On the night they were to meet, he was going to take her to an old man who had recognized him as a young initiate of a powerful tradition. He’d been teaching Kit about the powers of the kachinas, and he’d agreed to allow Diana to join him.

  But Kit had arrived late, and instead of waiting for him, Diana had wandered into big trouble when she nearly walked into a secret initiation ceremony. He’d put to use all of the skills his father had taught him to save her, and he was still lucky he’d succeeded.

  He’d met her again three years later when he was a senior at Columbia University and she was a sophomore. They saw each other regularly for eight months until he graduated. She never connected him with the boy from the reservation who’d saved her, and he’d never told her. But then, he’d never told her a lot of things about himself.

  Maybe it was time she knew.

  EIGHTEEN

  The sun cut through the mist that rose from the valley floor. The light shimmered, creating magical illusions of etheric dancing beings that skipped from treetop to treetop, rock to rock. Diana looked out in amazement over the valley.

  “So, it wasn’t a dream,” she murmured.

  But of all the incredible things she had seen, the Phantom took the prize. Who was he? What was he? And where was he? For that matter, where was she in relation to anything else? Where was New York from here?

  She stood up from her bed inside the mouth of the cave. “Hello,” she called. “Anybody here?”

  She saw eyes and ears, a snout. Devil was crouched near the other wall, watching her intently. No one here but the wolf, she thought. “Devil, where’s your master? Did he go someplace?”

  The wolf merely stared at her. It looked neither friendly nor angry. Just watchful.

  She moved farther into the cave, exploring it, and realized it penetrated deep into the cliff. “What kind of man lives in a cave?”

  The first thing she saw was a huge, high-backed chair on a raised platform. It was adorned with skulls. “Papa Bear’s chair,” she said, glancing at Devil. “I have to tell you I’m not real crazy about the motif. Is this where your master sits?”

  Devil, who had followed her at a distance, now sat down and cocked his head. He whined and pawed the ground.

  “I take it that means yes.”

  Another whine. He pawed the ground again.

  She decided to try the chair and sat down in it, careful not to touch the skulls embedded in the arms. Devil growled; his flaring eyes burned into her.

  “Oh, c’mon, Devil. I’m just trying it out. No big deal, okay?”

  Devil answered with another low, grumbling growl. Her amusement at the wolfs reaction shifted to concern. “Hey, I’m not hurting anything, boy.”

  The hairs on the back of the wolf’s neck rose. His growling deepened and grew more threatening.

  “Okay, okay. I get the idea. I’m getting off.”

  She got up slowly, her eyes glued to the wolf, wary that he might attack. But as soon as she moved away from the throne, the wolf relaxed. Devil still regarded her with suspicion, as though he expected her to try out the throne again, but he no longer seemed intent on assaulting her. There were obviously some very clear-cut rules here in the cave.

  She turned her palms up. “Where is he, anyway?”

  The wolf just stared back at her.

  “Fine. I’ll find him myself.”

  Devil whined, pawed again at the ground, and trotted after her as she walked out of the cave.

  Diana followed a well-traveled path into the forest. A hundred bright red, yellow, and cobalt butterflies flickered along the trail from one orange and purple tubular flower to another. The trail led to a quiet lagoon shrouded by flowering bushes. Green parrots flitted from branch to branch in the treetops, and a family of squirrel monkeys swung through the trees, arguing noisily.

  Diana noticed the Phantom’s purple outfit draped across a rock. She crept closer and ducked behind a bush. A man was bathing in the river, his back turned toward her so she couldn’t see his face.

  But she liked what she saw. A firm, lean body, muscular thighs, broad muscular shoulders.

  She heard a growl behind her and her head snapped around. Devil crouched low. This time the wolfs growl was deep and ominous.

  “Not you again,” she said softly. “Who are you—his mother? He brought me here, you know. That makes me a guest. You should probably be a little nicer.”

  She glanced back at the lagoon and wondered if the Phantom had heard her voice or Devil’s growls. His clothes were no longer on the rock. She started to stand up, but Devil grabbed her by the sleeve of her blouse. Then the wolf pulled her away.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  She tried to jerk her arm free, but Devil kept tugging on her sleeve. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to release it.

  “Devil! Release!”

  The wolf instantly let go of her arm. The Phantom, now astride Hero, towered over them. To her disappointment, he was back in costume, complete with mask.

  “Sorry. Wolves are a bit territorial,” the Phantom told her.

  “Who are you?”

  “We’ve already been through that.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Don’t you have a real name?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Then what was your real name?”

  “I forget.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

  “Any more questions?”

  Diana laughed. “Just a million of them.”

  “They’ll have to wait. Captain Horton is on his way to meet you.”

  A throng of butterflies fluttered around them, and several landed on the Phantom’s arms and shoulders. One rested on Devil’s snout. Then, moving en masse, they fluttered upward and circled the lagoon.

  The Phantom extended his hand. “C’mon, we’ll take the scenic route. I think you’ll like it.” He pulled her up into the saddle with him.

  “This feels all too familiar,” she commented. “You know, I’m not completely recovered yet from yesterday.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Ha.”

  “We’ll take it easy.”

  They rode through the dappled shadows of a lush jungle path. Diana felt as if she were touring a giant open-air botanical garden and arboretum. But someone had forgotten to mark the names on all the plants. She recognized the elephant-ear philodendra, which were house plants in New York but grew in a riotous profusion here.

  They continued on up a hillside with a commanding view of the secret valley. The sight of it literally took her breath away. Light greens melted into emerald greens. Reds and violets, vivid yellows and golds burned in all the green. Here and there were soft blues and aquas. An artist’s palette.

  But in spite of the beauty and grandeur of this place, Diana sensed that the Phantom was lonely. As far as she knew, he and his animals lived alone here.

  The Phantom kept his arm around her waist as they rode. She felt the warmth and pressure of his skin and decided she liked it. His closeness was gentle, yet firm.

  “You called this place the Deep Woods yesterday,” she said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Your domain?”

  “It’s where I live.”

  “So you’re some kind of jungle lord and this is your kingdom. Very nice. And you go out and save women in distress from time to time for variety.�
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  “Beats punching a time clock.”

  She laughed. “I suppose. But doesn’t it get lonely here for a young man?”

  He shrugged and didn’t answer right away. It was as if he’d never considered the question before. “I have Guran here, and the animals, of course. But—”

  “Guran?” Was he living with a native woman? She suddenly felt jealous and was instantly appalled at her reaction. How could she feel jealous? She’d just met the man. Didn’t even know his real name. Had never see his face. Ridiculous.

  “You’ll meet him soon enough. He’s on his way with Captain Horton.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said, relieved to know that Guran was a man.

  “But before they arrive, I want to show you one of my favorite places.”

  They galloped off through the forest on another trail. Before long, a warm salty breeze filled the air. Water glittered between the trees; she heard the roar of a surf. The forest gave way to a beautiful, pristine beach, and beyond it was the ocean.

  They galloped half a mile along the beach and through the surf, and finally came to a halt. The Phantom dismounted, then helped Diana down from Hero.

  She stretched out her arms and swung about in a circle. “This is incredible.”

  “It’s Keela Wee Beach.”

  “It’s like Paradise.”

  “It is Paradise.”

  Hero wasn’t very impressed. The horse walked away from the water and stood in the shade of an enormous banyan tree. Its branches spread out in every direction.

  She scooped up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. The light danced against it. “What makes it sparkle like that?”

  “Gold.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I never kid.”

  The Phantom had picked up a coconut that had fallen from one of the tall palms. He pulled a machete from the saddlebag and chopped off the top of an enormous coconut. He handed it to her. “You want a drink?”

  “Well, I am thirsty. Oh . . . it’s heavy.” She lifted it unsteadily to her mouth, tasted the coconut milk, then drank deeply. She passed it back to the Phantom.

  Devil loped toward them along the beach with something in his mouth. “Look, what’s he got?”

  “I sent him out for bananas.”

  Diana burst out laughing and shook her head. “You’re filled with surprises.”

  The wolf sat down in front of the Phantom and dropped the clump of bananas. “Good boy,” the Phantom said. “Thanks.”

  “This is amazing,” Diana said as she ate one of the bananas. “Drinks and fruit and . . .”

  “. . . And plenty of lobsters and fish,” the Phantom added, sweeping a hand toward the sea.

  “And gold,” she said, digging her bare feet into the sand. “Don’t people come here and try to steal the gold?”

  “People don’t come here at all without my permission,” he replied.

  They walked along the beach toward the jungle. “I can certainly see why you love it here.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I guess I’m just an open book,” the Phantom said with a laugh.

  “Not as long as you’re hiding behind that mask,” Diana responded.

  “Hide? In this getup?”

  “Then take off your mask.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  His face was probably disfigured or something, she thought, and immediately spun a dozen different stories about how it had happened. A fight, a fire, or perhaps he was born with the disfigurement.

  Something in the underbrush at the edge of the jungle caught her attention. Movement. And whatever it was looked large. Very large.

  “What is it?” the Phantom asked.

  “Ah . . . behind you. I don’t know what . . .”

  Then it stepped out into full view. A lion. Its body tensed and muscles rippled; it crouched low as though it were ready to spring. Diana froze where she was, afraid to twitch, afraid to breathe. The ocean, she thought. They could race into the surf and wait for the lion to go away.

  But before she moved, the lion darted forward and leaped onto the Phantom, knocking him to the ground. Diana screamed and jumped back as the Phantom struggled with the beast. Locked together, they rolled over and over, kicking up a cloud of sand. The Phantom groaned and grunted; the lion growled and roared.

  Horrified, Diana’s feet uprooted from the sand, she grabbed a coconut, and charged forward. Then she realized the Phantom was laughing. The lion was licking his ear and the Phantom was scratching its belly.

  Diana angrily threw down the coconut. “You’re playing!” She shook her head in amazement. “You’re playing with a lion.”

  “This guy’s an old friend,” he said, getting to his feet. “Here. Scratch him. It’s good for the soul, Diana.”

  She knelt down tentatively next to the lion and began to scratch its belly. Even though the beast was the Phantom’s friend, she was still wary. One playful swat from the creature’s paw might send her directly into the great beyond.

  “Go on. Don’t be afraid,” the Phantom said encouragingly. “Dig your fingers in deep. He likes it.” The lion stretched and purred contentedly as she worked her fingers into its pelt.

  “That’s better,” the Phantom said. “You’re getting the hang of it.” A few yards away, Hero was stomping the ground and shaking his head. The Phantom walked over to him. “What, you’re jealous of that big old lion, Hero? That’s not like you.”

  Diana walked over to him. “When I left New York, I certainly didn’t think that I’d be playing with a lion in paradise.”

  “You haven’t met the whole crew yet.”

  As soon as he said it, a python slithered down from the branches and wrapped its body around the Phantom’s throat, like some huge, grotesque necklace.

  She tried to remain unconcerned as the Phantom struggled with the massive creature. “Let’s see, a wolf, a lion, and now a python. Strange bunch of friends.”

  The Phantom pried the python off his neck and, gasping for air, threw it into the underbrush. He took a deep breath and rubbed his throat. “I never met that snake before in my life.”

  NINETEEN

  “We better get going. Horton should be arriving any time.” After his encounter with the python, the Phantom was ready to leave.

  He stroked Hero’s neck as he mounted him. “Next time I’ll pay closer attention to you.”

  He helped Diana up into the saddle in front of him. “Hero was trying to tell us about the snake, but I walked right into the serpent’s little trap.”

  “Does that happen often?” she asked as they galloped away.

  “If it did, I wouldn’t be around to tell you about it. Life in the jungle, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. I live in New York, remember?” Diana said. “It can be like a jungle, too. It’s not like it used to be. It’s quite dangerous now, you know. The Depression has made a lot of people quite desperate.”

  “I suppose,” the Phantom said vaguely.

  He remembered New York with Diana. Everything had been magical in their time together. It was almost as if they had been floating through life while it lasted, but it had ended too soon and abruptly. A lot had been left unsaid, and he had regretted it.

  When they arrived at Skull Cave and dismounted, the Phantom turned to Diana. “Wait here a moment.” He had a surprise for her.

  He hurried into the cave and ducked around the Skull Throne. Then he slipped into a narrow passageway that led into the Treasure Room.

  The room was piled high with gold and silver objects, many embedded with gems. There were intricate carvings in jade and lapis, and treasures of jewelry, diamonds, and gold coins. Some of the objects were ancient and priceless.

  There was no way of estimating their value. They all had been accumulated over the centuries for services rendered. Each one had a story that went with it, and his father had told him many of them. But for every objec
t with a story, there was another with a past that had long been forgotten.

  The Phantom glanced around, found what he was looking for, and snatched it up. He hurried out to the entrance of the cave. Diana was standing near the rim, looking intently out over the valley. He caught his breath as he walked up to her.

  “Two people on horseback just entered the valley,” Diana said. “I saw Devil with them.”

  The Phantom knew it was Horton and Guran. Devil would have alerted him with a howl if it had been strangers, who virtually never found their way into the valley, unless he led them here.

  “I just want to give you something to remember me by,” he said, glad they were still alone.

  “Somehow I don’t think remembering you is going to be a problem,” she replied with a smile.

  He held out a necklace. “You won’t find these in New York.”

  Diana cupped the necklace in her palms. “Black pearls. They’re beautiful. But I don’t think I can accept them. I mean, I should be giving you something.”

  He smiled. “You already have. Please, take them. I insist.”

  She was quiet a moment. He ran her fingers over the pearls, then looked up at him. “Okay. If you insist. Is there a story that comes with them?”

  “They were given to one of my ancestors by a grateful Arabian prince after my great-great grandfather rescued the young woman he was going to marry from an enemy.”

  “Ah, another rescue story. I guess it’s an appropriate gift then.”

  Her eyes suddenly glistened with tears. “Thank you, Phantom. I’m touched.”

  “Oh, no—not the old pearl ploy again!”

  The Phantom and Diana both turned to see Horton and Guran stepping into the cave. “That’s what passes for humor in the jungle, Diana,” the Phantom said apologetically. “Say hello to Captain Horton and Guran.”

  “Thank God you’re all right, Diana. We were monitoring the situation on our radio from the time the plane went down.” He turned to the Phantom. “So how did you manage to get her away?”

  “Diana did most of the work. All I did was clear the path.”

  “He’s not just mysterious, he’s modest, too,” Diana said.