by Eric Flint
Natalie smiled. "Play, Charles."
Pappy scrunched his eyes together. Johnny heard echoes of a little girl's demanding voice.
"You're her," Pappy said, barely audible.
Natalie smiled. "But that cannot be, can it?"
"No, it can't." Pappy stared at Natalie for a moment longer then brought the flute to his mouth and blew.
Johnny knew the melody, an octave higher than he had been playing on piano and guitar, but it would enhance the song. He watched as Pappy went through the four sections of the music, eyes closed, enraptured by the notes. When the song ended, Johnny saw tears in Pappy's eyes. He wiped a few of his own and saw that Natalie cried as well.
They sat in silence. Johnny was confused. Pappy played the same song that came to him out of nowhere. He looked at Pappy, who stared at Natalie. Natalie stood up.
"I have to go," she said, walking to the door.
Johnny jumped up to follow. "You don't have to leave."
"Yes," she said. "You need to visit with your grandfather." She smiled at Johnny, stroking his crest-fallen face. "Don't worry. I'll be back tomorrow."
He watched her walk into the night until she disappeared into the shadows. Johnny sighed and shut the door. He sat beside Pappy on the couch. The old man stared at the flute as if it was a relic of the past and he needed to know its significance.
"I was a young man," Pappy said. "I used to play the flute sitting on a rock. I played that flute all the time. There were times when I was happiest on that rock watching the corn grow with my music. One spring day, a little girl appeared and commanded that I play. That was the song that came out."
Pappy coughed and kept coughing. Johnny noticed the yellow glint of his skin. His hands and arms appeared bloated. Pappy poured another shot and downed it. The coughing gradually ended.
"She came back every day to listen. It was June before I realized that she grew older much faster than she should. She was a woman before I knew it and still she returned." Pappy turned to Johnny.
"I had already met your grandmother, though, and we were married in July. The woman who had been a girl never returned." He drank more tequila. "That's who your young lady reminds me of, Johnny." Pappy put a hand on the side of Johnny's head. "Be careful, my son." He reached for the tequila.
"Pappy, why don't you go on to bed," Johnny said. "You've had a long day."
Pappy nodded and put the bottle back on the table. He stared at the flute. "Changing Woman," he said in a whisper. "Asdzaan Nadleehe."
* * *
Johnny convinced himself that as a child he heard Pappy play the song on the flute. The story of the young girl demanding a tune bothered him a little, but he rationalized that all children want to hear music and most can be quite demanding. Those issues did not bother him as much as Pappy's appearance and behavior over the last month.
"He's drinking too much," Johnny said. "I've never known him to be a drunk."
Natalie listened as the sun baked the ground around them. A hint of silver appeared around the edges of her hair, just a hint. "Have you asked him about it?"
Johnny nodded. "He says that he and tequila never did spend as much time together as either of them intended. Then, he laughed, which started a coughing spell. I asked him if he had seen a doctor. You know what he said?"
Natalie shook her head.
"He said that all the doctors he respected were dead." Johnny sighed and stared into the cornfield. "I'm going to hide the tequila and make sure he can't get any more."
"Johnny, how old is Pappy?" She raised an eyebrow. "If he wants to stay drunk, then what business is it of yours?" She put her arm around his shoulder and squeezed. "Taking away the tequila will not bring him back, Johnny. He's not the same man as when you were ten."
Johnny stood and walked a few paces. His anger burned within.
"I can't just let him drink himself to death," Johnny said.
Natalie stood. "The tequila will not kill him."
"It will if he doesn't stop. He drank almost two bottles yesterday." He balled his hands into fists. "It's getting worse, Natalie."
Natalie frowned. Johnny noticed a line or two around her eyes. She looked older when she was unhappy. She gazed into his eyes and then he saw her as always young.
"Johnny," she said, enunciating each of her words. "The tequila will not kill him. If you take away the alcohol, then he will feel the pain."
"What pain?" Johnny waited for an answer, but Natalie just stared. His eyes widened as he thought about her words.
"Oh my, God, he's told you something," he said. "He's dying, isn't he?" Natalie nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he had the right to privacy," she said. "You cannot help him to the other side."
Johnny sat back against the rock and slid to the ground, head in his hands. Emptiness opened within his chest. He wanted to cry, but the tears refused to fall. He looked up at Natalie.
"I may not be able to help him with his death," he said. "But I sure as hell can help while he lives."
Johnny walked into the house behind Natalie. "Pappy?" He received no answer. For an instant fear gripped him. He thought he was too late and that Pappy had already died.
The sound of the flute filtered into the living room. He walked through the house to the back door and found Pappy lightly blowing into the wooden instrument. Johnny saw the huge effort Pappy suffered when playing the flute. Pappy coughed for a minute, and then stopped, turning. He looked at Johnny and then Natalie.
"He knows," Natalie said. "I did not tell him. He figured it out on his own."
Pappy nodded and slapped Johnny's leg. Johnny sat beside him, laying a hand on the old man's shoulder. Pappy smiled and blew into the flute. Natalie opened the door and put the Gibson in Johnny's hands.
Pappy took his mouth away from the flute. "Asdzaan Nadleehe, will you be with me when I cross?"
"Yes, Charles," Natalie said.
Pappy nodded and returned to playing the song. Johnny strummed the Gibson in reply to the melody of the flute.
"I'm scared, Johnny," Pappy said between coughs. "If I go to sleep, I won't wake up."
Johnny fought back tears and grabbed Pappy's hand. "I'm scared, too, Pappy."
Pappy handed him the flute he had clutched. "The song is yours, Johnny. You'll be all right." He glanced past Johnny. "Won't he, Asdzaan Nadleehe?"
"Yes, Charles," Natalie said. She left the two men alone.
"I'm going to close my eyes for a little while," Pappy said. "Good night, Johnny." Pappy slept.
Johnny watched as the breathing became ragged and finally stopped. He stared as the color drained from Pappy's face and he was sure he was gone. The tears he fought deserted him. An incredible sadness overtook Johnny, a grief he could not bear, so he shunted it aside in his shock.
Natalie laid a hand on his shoulder. "I've called the coroner," she said. Johnny nodded. "I must go. He expects me."
Johnny turned. "Go where?"
"I promised to help your grandfather pass through."
"Pappy kept calling you Asdzaan Nadleehe," Johnny said. He did not look at Natalie as he squeezed Pappy's limp hand. "Who are you?"
"I am Changing Woman." Natalie left.
Johnny stared after her, then sat beside Pappy's body until the coroner came. He wanted to cry, but could not.
* * *
Johnny sat on the rock, watching as Manuel and James ran the combines in the fields. He had inspected the corn with Manuel before they started harvesting.
"You see how the leaves have browned and left the husks exposed?" Manuel grabbed an ear and pulled down one side of the hush. He pushed a fingernail into a kernel and juice spurted out. Manuel smiled and handed the corn to Johnny. "This is ready. We should be able to harvest this and get another crop planted at least a hundred days before the first frost."
Johnny nodded. "Thanks, Manuel. I couldn't have done this without you."
"We're well paid," Manuel said as he shrugged. He nodded
at James and they started picking.
Johnny sat, thinking about Pappy and Natalie. He missed the old man. He brought the flute to his lips and blew. A flat note sounded. Johnny frowned. This could take some time to learn, he thought. He grabbed the Gibson and strummed the strings.
"Your heart is not in it."
Johnny turned. Natalie stood at the edge of the field.
"Where have you been?"
Natalie sat on the rock beside him. "I tried to stay away," she said. "I thought you might need time, to mourn for Pappy and to decide about me."
Dust flew around them as the tractor passed close to them. Johnny saw James staring at Natalie as he drove past. Johnny stared at the hills surrounding his land, the land left to him by Pappy. White puffs ambled through the sky. He looked at Natalie.
Lines deepened on her face. Her hair silvered at the edges, but the eyes remained ageless. This woman bore a resemblance to the maiden and little girl of spring and early summer, but she blossomed full grown in a little over a month.
"I don't know what to think," he said. His insides trembled when she smiled. "All I know is I love you, whoever you are. I am less when you're not here." He placed the Gibson back into the case. "I have trouble believing in gods and Holy Ones."
Natalie smiled. "You were not raised Dineh, Johnny," she said. "Right now, I am a woman in love with you. And that's all I am."
He took her by the hand and helped her off the rock. Manuel waved, grinning. Johnny could not hide his own grin as he returned the wave, leading Natalie to the truck. They drove back to the house.
James and Manuel finished harvesting the crop in two days. By Friday, they had planted most of the fields before they came for their pay.
Johnny heard the truck as it drove into the gravel drive. He walked onto the porch as the men got out. James looked past Johnny toward the screen door. Johnny glanced behind him and saw Natalie. They waited beside the truck, making no effort to come to the house. Johnny frowned as he went to meet them.
"Here's your pay," Johnny said. "You guys want a beer?"
" She is here," James said. "I would not impose."
Manuel shot a worried look at James. "Yeah, I guess so." He changed the subject. "Johnny, we planted all of the south fields and we'll finish the north early next week."
"That's great," Johnny said. "Our buyer is coming after the corn tomorrow, so next week, I'm giving both of you a major bonus for all the hard work. You've been more like partners than workers."
Manuel's mouth fell open. Even James lost his worried look and tore his eyes away from the screen door.
"You've earned the bonus," he said. "You sure you don't want that beer?"
They declined, but in a more cheerful way. The two men expressed their gratitude as they climbed back into the truck and drove away. Johnny smiled as he walked into the house.
"They appeared quite happy when they left," Natalie said.
"I'm giving them each a one-third share of the profits," Johnny said. "They've done all the work. The only reason I grew corn in the first place was that Pappy had for all these years. And I don't need the money. They do."
Natalie kissed him.
* * *
They went to the rock every day. Natalie gave Johnny lessons on playing Pappy's flute. After a couple of weeks, he had learned the song well enough to lay down a few tracks in the studio. He brought the recording to the fields and played it.
"That's it," Natalie said. "Now what?"
Johnny grinned and shook his head. "Now, nothing. The words for this song just haven't come. I know they're there, because I catch snippets in my head as I'm playing. They just fade away."
"Does the song have to have words?" She smiled.
Johnny thought she taunted him, but considered the question. "No, I don't guess it does. My agent told me to send what I had. Maybe I'll send it."
Natalie looked away. Johnny studied the side of her face. One strand of hair had turned white. A few more lines appeared around her eyes, but she was a beauty. Johnny ignored the signs of age, ignoring also the questions forming in his mind.
"Do you still miss the audience, Johnny?" Natalie did not look his way. "Do you miss the women?"
"There is no woman, but you," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged the hand off. "Answer the first question!" she said, as she stared into his eyes. Her demand went deeper than words.
"Yes, I miss the audience," Johnny said. He dropped his chin to his chest. "I miss performing."
"Then send the song to Peter," Natalie said. "I could not stand in your way." She stood and walked into the corn, which rose to her ankles.
Johnny started to go after her, but knew she preferred to be alone. He watched until she faded into the hills.
He took the disc to the post office after he left the fields. Johnny wondered if Natalie knew he had the envelope ready to send. Does she worry about losing me?
He sat in bed waiting for her, but went to sleep around midnight. His eyes popped open staring at the clock. A flute played in the distance, beckoning Johnny to follow the sound. He tried to fight the urge, but he grabbed pants, shirt, and shoes. He felt drawn toward the corn.
He stopped the truck, and in the lights, he saw Natalie dressed in the traditional blue cotton dress. A man stood next to her, much taller and dressed in anything but traditional Navajo clothing. A white silk shirt with billowing sleeves added a grace to his motions and toned down the hump on his back. Black pants and tennis shoes completed the fashion statement. Johnny got out of the truck, focusing on Natalie and the man.
"Oops, cousin," the man said. "I didn't know you were here. Now, I know why I came to this place."
"Do realize what you're doing?" Natalie sounded angry.
The man laughed. "Oh yes, I think I do." He saw Johnny. "He's not Dineh, Naddie. I am both surprised and pleased. You have always been too traditional. That's why you're tied here you know. Corn Woman and I don't have that problem."
Natalie stomped her foot. Johnny felt a rumble through the Earth. "Don't change the subject, Kokopelli," she said. "I'm too old for children."
"No, you're not," the man said. He backed into the corn and was hidden by the tall stalks.
"Tall stalks?" Johnny stopped and stared. The corn that was at Natalie's ankles this morning was now seven feet tall, at least. "What the hell is going on here?"
Natalie stared into the stalks. "You'll pay for this." Laughter answered her. She shook her head and looked up at Johnny. "We have no choice, now."
"Who was that? What did he do to my corn?"
Natalie raised a hand for silence. Johnny looked at her and forgot about the corn or the man who had been arguing with her. Her hair sparkled in the moonlight. The dress swirled in the breeze, providing glimpses of her thighs.
"That was a cousin of mine, the meddler," Natalie said. She grabbed an ear of corn and pulled back the husk. She pierced a kernel and juice spurted. "As for your corn, Kokopelli makes things reproduce. I think you better pick this crop Monday." She grinned. "I really want to hear your explanation to Manuel and James."
Johnny heard the words, but they did not register. "What?"
Natalie laughed. "Nothing. I have the same urge you do, damn that cousin of mine. Do you have that blanket in the truck?"
"Blanket?" Johnny's eyes widened. "Oh, yeah."
* * *
Natalie stayed in bed all day Saturday, too sick to move. Retching woke Johnny early that morning.
"Natalie, are you all right?"
Another retch exploded. "I'm going to kill Kokopelli, when I catch him," she yelled between bouts of throwing up. "Go back to bed, Johnny," she said. "This will pass."
She felt better later that afternoon. Johnny went to the drugstore and bought something to help with nausea. Natalie looked at the bottle and her face turned pale.
"You don't expect me to put that in my body," she said.
Johnny looked confused. "Well, yeah," he said. "I
t's supposed to help."
"You want to help me?" Natalie waited for Johnny to nod. "Good, then go to the rock, play the guitar and flute." Before he would leave, she assured him that she was not angry, but she needed to be alone for a while. Johnny left.
Natalie stood on the front porch when he returned. Her face glowed and her body held a little more weight than usual. He kissed her. "How are you?"