by Corie Weaver
The man sat in the dust and shook his head. He made a rippling shudder, and his body flowed until it became a coyote's. His silence cut worse than the old woman's words. He never spoke, and loped out of the village without even so much as a glance back at me.
* * *
The next morning I rushed through breakfast and the washing up.
"Going off to meet Mark and Amy again?"
"I feel bad about Jack not getting his walk yesterday." I laughed, trying to keep my voice light. "I've gotten him used to them by now. Maybe I'll run into them on the way back."
Mom's eyes narrowed as she picked up her briefcase. "You're not going off to meet that odd boy, are you? Maybe you should take a day off, get your room organized. School will be here before you know it, and then you'll be telling me you won't have any time."
"Mom!" I know she hates it when I stretch her name out like it has six or seven o's in it, but I couldn't help it. "That's not fair!"
Dad followed Mom out the door. "I agree with your mother. Let's see what you can have done with your room by the time we get back."
Mom talks about my lack of motivation sometimes. She'd have been amazed at how much I could do to my room in thirty minutes, now that more than anything I wanted to be out and done.
When my room was something I could pass off as clean I sat at my desk and thought. If I was going to find Ash and treat this seriously, it was time to make a list. I'm a stickler for making lists. I'll make one for just about anything, mostly to get my thoughts organized, but sometimes if I'm slow to get started on my chores, I'll even put the easy stuff down, like emptying the trash, just so I get to have the thrill of crossing it off.
I'd need food, and water, and if Ash was hurt some bandages and antibiotic ointment. Jack would need extra water if we walked far, and some extra food, just in case. I couldn't feed him cheese sandwiches all the time, especially if I wanted one or needed it for Ash. My compass, for sure. I thought about bringing a couple candles and some matches, but I wasn't sure about that.
I had heard that some kids fooling around before we moved here burned big areas of the Bosque. It would be years before any of that area has recovered. I held the matches in my hand for a long time, thinking about the fire damage, but finally put them in my pack. If this was important, I might need them.
I grabbed some of the sealed bags of dog food from the pantry and slid them in Jack's harness pouches. I didn't think we'd be gone long, but just in case, he would need his dinner.
On the way out I passed the fruit bowl we kept on the round breakfast table, and grabbed a couple of apples. Fruit is good for a snack or dessert, and I read somewhere about people who lost their health by not eating it for a long time.
I laughed. I was going for a hike, not walking across the country. But I packed the apples anyway.
We made it up to the Bosque in record time. Today the trail only served as a way for me to get somewhere, and we sped by all of its attractions.
I didn't find Ash by the log. I checked my watch. We had arrived earlier than when we had met him before, so I settled down to wait. Jack snuffled at me then ran off, probably to find rabbits to chase. After a while I had a thought. If we were early, then Ash was either still at home, or on the way. And I knew the way to his house now, so we should be able to find him.
I whistled for Jack, clipped the leash back on, and started back the way we came. We went as far as I thought I had come with Ash, and I started looking for the side path that branched out to the village. I couldn't find it. We went up and down the path, and never found the trail to Ash's house. We may have made some of the people nervous. A woman gardening in her backyard went inside scowling and muttering after we walked behind her fence for the tenth time.
The split cottonwood tree reassured me that we had the right spot. But no matter how often I looked, I couldn't find a break in the houses lining the path.
Jack and I went up and down the path again. Jack thought it was all a grand game, but I wished he had a little bit of bloodhound in him. Wouldn't that be cool. He could sniff out the path, like on television shows.
A crash in the undergrowth next to the canal startled me. A rabbit skittered out, across our path, and ran right toward the split cottonwood tree I had been using as a landmark. Before I could stop him, Jack pulled his leash out of my grip and dashed after it. The rabbit, with Jack in pursuit, didn't run around the tree, but straight through the wide split. Then both the rabbit and Jack disappeared.
I stopped and took a breath. Getting worked up wasn't going to do either me or Jack any good. I closed my eyes and replayed the scene in my mind. The rabbit had come from over there. I moved and stood in the underbrush. And had crossed the path like so. And then had gone through the tree like . . .
* * *
I blinked and looked around. Jack was there, right with me, his leash trailing at my feet. The path I had been searching for all morning lay under my feet. I looked back, and could see the main path and hear the canal, right there.
I shook my head. Everything had been strange since I met Ash, why should this be any different? A screaming fit about the impossibility of what had just happened wouldn't change anything. I was here now and could keep going and look for Ash, and figure it out later. I stuffed the part of me that was yelling and gibbering into a corner of my mind, and promised myself I could have a hissy fit about it later.
I grabbed Jack's leash, and we started the long walk down the path and into the deserted village. When we got there, it was ghostly silent, and the dust blew up into little whirls of smoke. The buildings, smooth and graceful before, were ominous now, like eerie ships on a sandy sea.
We walked through the town, and saw no one, heard nothing.
"Ash?" I called out, but quietly, afraid to break the stillness. There was no reply.
Finally I heard some noise inside one of the houses. Though I searched, I couldn't find a door for that room, only a ladder leading up to the roof. I looked at the ladder, and then at Jack panting beside me. While I had seen videos of dogs climbing up ladders, I couldn't imagine how to make him do it, and I wasn't sure how to get him back down. I took his leash and harness off, and set up his bowl with some water in the shade.
"Be a good boy, okay, Jack?" He stopped slurping for a minute to look at me. "Don't run off anywhere; don't go with anyone," I rubbed his ears again. "And no chasing rabbits."
With a doggie huff he lay down in the shade, convinced I wasn't going to let him have any fun.
As I climbed the ladder I saw only leather cords lashed the wooden rungs to the uprights. I placed each foot carefully in the middle of the rungs, afraid my weight would loosen the knots.
Once I got to the roof I let my breath out; I hadn't known until then I'd held it all the way up. The rooftop was flat with a small lip around it, perfect for lazing in the sun, or counting the stars at night. I found no one up here either.
The descent through the hole into the house was like entering night. Daylight faded and my eyes didn't adjust nearly as quickly as I would have liked. I stood at the bottom of the ladder with one hand on the rung nearest my head, and waited until I could see my surroundings.
Smoke-darkened beams ran across the ceiling, poking out through the walls. Patterned woven baskets hung from the beams, with a low flat stone underneath them, and things I couldn't identify piled in corners. But no Ash.
As the gloom lightened I saw a pile of pots in one corner. They trembled, then one tumbled off the stack.
I yelped as a large raccoon strolled from behind the pots. Hunting for scraps, no doubt. Whatever he was doing, he showed no fear of me. My shoulders sagged, and I climbed back up the ladder. From the roof I saw a figure at the edge of the town. My hopes rose, and I opened my mouth to shout, but closed it with a snap. This was a stranger, taller than Ash, but bent and stooped. He shuffled around, paced back and forth as if he were looking for something, searching.
Something about that distant form chilled me,
and I hurried down the outside ladder to kneel where Jack slept in the sun, and trembled for no reason I could name.
Still upset, I was more startled when Ash rounded the corner of the building and drew up sharply. He hissed his breath out and woke Jack.
"Maggie, what are you doing here?" He glanced over his shoulder, and then hurried to where we were. "The problems of my village have nothing to do with you. How did you get here?"
I turned my face away from him so he couldn't see the hurt in my eyes. "I came to find you. I thought you were in trouble. But if you're going to be like that, I'll go home and leave you to deal with it yourself."
I started to gather Jack's things, while the traitorous dog nosed Ash's waist for a new round of ear rubs.
Ash brushed my arm with his hand to stop me. "I am sorry. I am worried, and there is much here you do not know about. I should not have spoken to you so."
I sniffed, and tried to make my voice sound like Mom's when she's angry with Dad for forgetting something and not quite ready to forgive him yet. "No, you shouldn't have." But I stopped packing and looked at him. Ash looked so serious I couldn't help being worried about him all over again. Even if I was still a little bit mad.
Ash said, "Come with me. There's a place we can sit and talk without fear of being found."
Ash didn't mention the figure I had seen from the rooftop, but we left the village quietly, as if we were hiding. We went northwest into the surrounding foothills for a short distance. A rough hut made of pine branches nestled between overhanging pines near a small stream. Ash pushed the leather flap over the door open and showed me in, with Jack at my heels.
We sat on the floor in silence until I couldn't stand it any more.
"Ash, what's going on? Why are you in trouble, and who are the old people in my dreams who told me to find you?"
"Your dreams? What old people?" Ash frowned. "Tell me; tell me everything."
So I did. I told him about my dreams, and the old man and woman, and how they seemed worried, and I had seen the man in places, even when I was awake.
When I was silent again, Ash shook his head. "I believe I know who these people are, but I do not know why they want you involved in this. Coyote, the man, is a trickster. He would follow you; make you doubt your eyes. But it sounds like he is trying to help you, in his own way." Ash rubbed his own eyes.
"The old woman concerns me. I believe you have spoken with Spider Old Woman. She is wise beyond imagining. If it were only Coyote, I would think it one of his tricks. But for him to be working in concert with Spider Old Woman is unheard of."
He rose. "Maggie, I must think on this for a time. I am not sure what to do. Would you stay here for a short while, until I come back? I should not be long."
I didn't like the idea of being by myself, but there was little point in arguing if I was going to find out what was going on. "Sure."
He stopped at the door and didn't look at me. "Do you give your word?"
The knot of guilt returned to my stomach. "Yes, I do." My voice dropped to a whisper. "Ash, I'm sorry about the other day."
He waved my words away and stepped through the flap.
I sat in the tiny hut. Light streamed in through a small hole in the roof, but there was little to see. A bed made of pine needles and covered with a cloth was against one wall, a bow with a quiver full of arrows beside it. I stroked the feathers and wondered what sort of bird they had come from.
The voice in my mind that had been having fits since I stepped through the split in the cottonwood tree got louder. What was going on here? No one used a bow for hunting anymore, did they? Ash was taking my dreams seriously. How could he know who those people were? Did that mean they were real? But if they were real, how did they get into my dream from here? Who would be named Coyote or Spider Old Woman, anyway?
I couldn't keep thinking about it, needed to get back to safer ground. My mind painted a comic-book cover, featuring the dignified old woman of my dreams, but now she wore a bright blue-and-red superhero costume, climbed walls, and fought bad guys. I was still giggling over the image when Ash returned.
He carried in his arms a wrapped bundle about the size of a jar of pickles. He sat down across from me.
"I have kept this safe, this last thing he hunts for. Though he took all the people, the village will still exist as long as he does not possess this. And he wants more than anything to destroy the village utterly." He made no move to unwrap the package, but looked down at it.
I couldn't help myself. "Ash, who is he? What are you talking about?"
Ash slapped his hand into the dust. "I told you before. Shriveled Corn Man. Did you not listen?"
Shriveled Corn Man.
"Ash, that was a story, a legend. Wasn't it?" I heard my voice grow shrill and fought for a grip on something familiar, but normalcy had slipped away too quickly. I buried my hands in Jack's ruff. Jack was still Jack, ever patient with whatever life threw his way. Fine. I could be like Jack. Roll with it, look for bunnies to chase, trust it would all work out. I took a deep breath and eased it out.
Ash shook his head. "It was a true telling. Shriveled Corn Man took the people of this village. I am the last of them, and he waits to catch me. Me and this."
He held the package out to me. I took it, unsure of what I held. The bundle was heavier than I expected.
"Open it."
I pulled back the wrappings and a small clay statue of a man emerged. I held it up to look at it closer, and saw the man danced and wore a mask.
"This is the oxuwah, guardian of our village. I have thought on what Spider Old Woman and Coyote meant by leading you here, and the only answer clear to me is you must take the oxuwah and hide it in your world, where Shriveled Corn Man cannot go."
"He can't? The old people get there easily enough. Why shouldn't he be able to?" I refused to think about the implications of the phrase "your world."
Ash made a face like he ate something bitter. "Shriveled Corn Man is a powerful sorcerer, with much pinang, yes. But Spider Old Woman and Coyote are much more than that. If he has reached the height of their powers, these are dark times for more than my village."
"If the old people are so strong, why don't they stop him themselves? It would be the fastest way to solve this, certainly easier than convincing someone to help by giving her strange dreams."
"They will not interfere directly. They may hint and help and give advice, but only within limits. There are rituals to invoke that."
He smiled. "Remember the day when Jack startled me?" He reached over to lightly pat the sleeping dog. "I was collecting the black mud. It has uses in many medicines and ceremonies, and is a favored gift for Spider Old Woman. I was collecting some of it to bring to her home in the mountains. If you do not ask for her help in the right way with the right ceremonies, she cannot assist, even if she wants to."
I lowered the statue back into my lap. "That doesn't make any sense." I closed my mouth, and forced myself to relax.
I rewrapped the figurine and made a safe place for it to rest in my backpack. "So, you need me to take this back, hide it, and, then what? What are you going to be doing?"
"Every time Shriveled Corn Man uses his power he gives up a portion of his life energy. He has gone past the bounds of what is natural, past drawing on the pinang around him, and leeches from his own soul now. From that a strong man of middle years became a wretched, ancient thing. His power is his hate, but the hate blinds him.
"It will wear him down; he will search for the oxuwah and use his power fruitlessly. When it is safe, I will meet you at the river, and you can give it back to me."
An objection sprang to mind. "How long do you think it will take? In a few months, I'm going to have to go back to school, so I won't be able to go to the river every day."
"When it is safe, I will wait every day when the sun is highest until you can meet me. But I hope it will not take that long."
I stood, and stretched when Jack did. I felt like we had been
in the small smoky hut for hours, and my legs were stiff and sore.
"Go, and I will see you soon." Ash put out his hand, and I held it for a minute, then pulled him in for a hug.
"Be careful," I whispered, and my throat closed up a little, thinking of how awful it would be for him, alone in this village with only an angry sorcerer and two old dream people for company.
He stepped back from me, his face flushed. Probably from the hug. Boys are like that, I've noticed.
"I will be careful, I promise. I will take you back through the village to the path."
We came down out of the foothills and snuck back through the empty streets of the abandoned village; even Jack seemed to realize there was no time for snuffling or chasing interesting smells.
At the outskirts of the village Ash paused. "Can you make it back to the tree from here?"
I looked at the path. It lay straight and even before me.
"I don't see why not."
"Good. I will see you when this is done." He waved once, then turned back.
I caught my breath for a minute. Ash was walking faster than I did, and I had been skipping a bit to keep up.
"Come on, boy. Let's go home so I can go to sleep tonight and tell those old people I've done what they wanted." Somehow that didn't sound nearly as crazy as it should have.
We started down the trail at a brisk pace. We were more than halfway back to where the split cottonwood tree marked the trail, when what I thought was a branch lying across the trail moved and raised its head to stare at us with flat black eyes.
The largest snake I had ever seen, except for the ones on television, on wildlife-in-the-jungle type of shows, faced us. And then I heard the buzzing noise of an angry rattlesnake.
I pulled Jack away from it, and must have tugged too hard, because I lost my balance. I fell toward the rocky ground at the side of the trail, and my ankle twisted and my hands tangled in Jack's leash. The huge snake disappeared before my eyes in a puff of dust as my head struck the ground. I closed my eyes at the bright burst of light, and thought I heard faint, mocking laughter.