My mouth dropped open. The elder’s monolog left me speechless. Formulating a question, I tried to speak but his eyes closed and within seconds, he snored. Tiredness washed over my body as well. When I woke my scrubs stuck to my skin with sweat, and the IV bag was almost empty.
Ray still slept, chin against his chest. I gently coaxed his head against the wall so he would be more comfortable and removed the now empty IV bag. He woke briefly, saying something in Hopi. Thankfully I didn’t understand and he went back to sleep.
When I left the house, I leaned against the car. My chest tightened. Was I going crazy, like my mom? Like my grandmother? Since learning of my mother’s suicide, I’d always been scared- what if the same thing happened to me? What if I couldn’t handle life and killed myself too?
Usually, I could explain certain things away. But creepy dreams where someone told me I would be part of some Native American legend… Yeah, I’d taken the exam on psychiatric medications in nursing school. These sorts of delusions didn’t happen to normal people.
I’m going bat-shit crazy.
Maybe I’m schizophrenic.
I took some calming breaths, arguing myself back to present.
You need to meditate. Your imagination is running a little wild because of what you and Gabe researched. Kale and Julia are the jerks; they started you on all this nonsense.
Fanning myself with the fabric of the scrub top, I pepped myself up enough to drive back to the compound and grab lunch with Gabe. He sat with a guy our age, with shoulder length black hair and round brown eyes. Gabe hunched over his phone, scrolling with his fingertips.
“Can my week get any weirder?” I asked, taking a seat next to him.
Gabe introduced me to Harry, who worked in the pharmacy as a technician. Harry gave me a nod before looking back at his phone.
“Did you get kicked out of someone’s house again?” Gabe asked, nudging my shoulder.
I blinked my eyes. “No, but- never mind. What are you two looking at, something sketchy?”
“Gabe was just showing me this app that tracks the Pacem Pomeri’s latest assaults,” Harry said.
“The what?”
“Pacem Pomeri- you know the international organization of gazillionaires and presidents and other secret men of power? They have secret meetings, set plans of actions to retain their money and power. This app tracks their latest gatherings, and outs suspected members,” Gabe said. He spouted a ludicrous list of famous people and international dignitaries who most likely did not know each other.
“Oh, I see. Are they going to take over the world or something? Extort the United States for - one million dollars?” I said, holding a pinky to my lip.
Gabe looked up from his phone again, eyebrows raised. “Well, what else would you call secretly overthrowing religious powers throughout the world and stealing sacred relics for their personal use?”
I rolled my eyes. Yep, my week could get weirder. “Okay Indiana Jones,” I said, and I turned to Harry. “Don’t tell me you believe this conspiracy theory?”
Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what will happen to the rest of the world, in our case, when reality splits- the Hopi homeland will be protected.” He winked at me with a small smile, as if to say he was half-joking.
I gulped down my iced tea. It tasted like sand. This conversation had veered into crazy-town. Did I need more myths to add to my baffling list? No, thank you. I craved concrete facts. Wolfing down my sandwich and chips, I gave the guys a quick wave and told them I needed to study.
“Call me later, Indiana,” I said to Gabe.
“I prefer Austin Powers!” Gabe called after me.
Back at my apartment, I did fifteen minutes of much needed meditation before leaving again to visit my last patients of the day. I coaxed myself outside and returned to the strange world of the rez with the promise of a long run at the end of the day.
Luckily, the visits didn’t take long. One new mom needed counseling on breastfeeding, and I reminded her to make a well child appointment for her other child. Another woman needed to schedule follow-up care for her high blood pressure, so I helped her arrange a time when she could get a ride to the clinic for her visit.
By 4:00 pm, my visit notes were complete, and I hurried to dress for a long run, always my best medicine. Martin gave directions for a trail that worked out to be three miles, not nearly long enough for my taste, but I figured I could loop back around and double the distance.
My iPod securely fastened to my arm and ear buds blasting a pumped up playlist, I soon found the zone I loved. After the first couple of miles, I can enter auto-pilot mode, where I can think with clarity. Instead of thinking about the discombobulating mess of my current conflicts, I ran and breathed. In and out. Cleansing and refreshing, making me feel like I could do anything.
I felt pretty damn amazing.
I took a quick shower and dressed in my purple Bebe sweat shorts and a matching t-shirt. My phone rang, and my stomach sank. Guess that was the end of my brief reverie from reality. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered, figuring it was Dan.
“Now you’re talking to my Uncle? Who do you think you are? You need to leave before shit gets real, gringa. I’m calling Kale right now. Stay away from Ray Martinez, do you understand?”
I shook my head, recognizing her voice immediately. Her clipped accent, as if she had spent part of her life further south at some point.
Determined not to get into a pointless argument, I argued. “Ray Martinez- that’s your Uncle? Julia, look, I swear I’m not whoever you and Kale think I am.”
“Bullshit. You’re acting all goody two shoes, but you’re obviously telling the elders you’re the pahana. Kale’s family line has trained them to identify the true pahana. Somehow you found out and went straight to Kale, all pretty and innocent looking. He’s mine, by the way. At least, he will be again. So back the fuck off. Kale’s family knows false pahanas come out to seek fame and bring bad luck. He knows you’re not the actual pahana, gringa. Kale is too nice to tell you to your face but I’m not. Go back to Flagstaff with your innocent bullshit. Your kind is not welcome here.”
Seriously? This pahana business was getting out of hand. Why did they think I pretended to be the pahana?
Sinking into the well-worn couch, I plugged my iPod into the sound dock. Before I could choose a calming playlist, my phone rang again. I forced myself to take a deep, cleansing breath. The caller ID showed D-bag, my personalization of Dan’s number. I hesitated, then let voicemail pick up. No more conversations by phone tonight. Dan and I could talk in person.
The message he left was quiet. He sounded distracted. “Chelsea,” (his use of my given name sent familiar shivers through me,) “How are you? Have you been noticing anything, out of the ordinary? When are you back in Flag? Can you please call as soon as you get this? We need to talk.”
In the end, my pride kept me from calling him back. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. Stifling the instinct to assuage whatever guilt Dan felt, I tossed my phone back in my purse. Closure wasn’t handed to me five years ago. Hell, I didn’t even get a voicemail. I got an email.
The couch caught the brunt of my anger, as I tossed and turned in the most unpleasant nap ever. A knock at my door made me leap up in relief. Expecting Gabe to be ready to grab some dinner, I walked to the kitchen for a drink.
“Come in!” I yelled. I gulped some water and stretched my arms above my head and arched my back, giving relief to my sore muscles. I heard a gasp and opened my eyes. One hot Hopi guy stared at me, and I’m not talking eye contact.
“Kale!” I exclaimed, hands flying down to tug my t-shirt back over my stomach. “What are you doing here?” I tucked my still wet hair behind my ears.
“I… want to apologize for my earlier behavior,” Kale said, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He broke his staring and looked behind me at the kitchen. Then he turned to study the walls. His untucked white button-up provided a perfect contrast with sculp
ted arms of copper; Kale had the body of a runner, long legs, toned and slender. When I inhaled deep, his scent of sage and man further distracted me.
“What?” I asked, blinking. Had he said something?
Kale smirked.
“I’ve been a total asshole to you ever since we met. I’m sorry for treating you like that.”
I shook my head to clear other thoughts from my wandering mind.
“Oh, yeah, I need to tell you something. Gabe and I checked out that pahana word you guys kept talking about. That’s what you were saying, right?” I asked, and motioned for him to sit on the couch. I took the folding chair on the opposite from the couch, determined to maintain a respectable distance.
Kale ignored my question. He leaned back and stretched out his arms. They spanned across the entire small sofa. His long black hair hung loosely around his shoulders. The locks looked thick, yet soft. My fingers itched to find out how soft. His energy hummed peacefully.
This Kale didn’t match the Kale I had encountered three times before. But peaceful Kale made my stomach flutter as much as growly Kale. Peaceful Kale allowed me to focus on his smokin’ hotness, but I didn’t need any more complications in my romantic life at the moment. Especially not complications with my roommate's special friend.
And Julia. She creeped me out. She and Kale were no longer dating, but I did not want to piss her off.
Kale returned the visual perusal, and I wished I had at least thrown on some mascara after my shower. I sniffed discretely. At least I had put on some deodorant.
“What do you know about Hopi legends?” he asked me, meeting my eyes.
“Really, next to nothing,” I said, crossing my legs.
“There are hundreds of legends of course. But one, in particular, describes a new world transition…”
Maybe I should have interrupted Kale right then. Maybe I could have jumped on top of him- we could make out, and he’d shut up. More like the calculating white girl everyone kept telling me I was pretending to be.
Yep. Persuading Kale into making out would have been a better plan.
My cell phone could have had a tragic accident in the toilet or under a car tire, so I wouldn’t have to talk to Julia about trying to steal her man or influence her people.
I could have avoided any further contact with Dan and his sudden, confusing reappearance in my life.
Hell, maybe I would have gotten back to Flag after getting laid and decided it was time to go home and get real about where I was going with my life. My experimental flight from the home nest could have been aborted. I could have told my Aunt that life sucked, and I needed her protection, after all.
But instead of interrupting Kale, I leaned forward, eager to hear the explanation behind Julia and his whacked behavior.
Chapter Eleven
Dichotomy
MY EAGERNESS TO hear Kale’s story took a nose dive into “Lalalala I can’t hear you land” almost immediately.
“We Hopi believe humanity, as we know it, lives in the 4th world, and there will be a time when humans must enter the 5th world,” Kale said in his deep voice.
I sat on my hands to resist plugging my ears. Nope, definitely not prepared to hear the rest of this tale. Kale surveyed my reaction and paused. He gave me a small smile, but stayed quiet, as if waiting for my approval to go on.
Other people may think I already live in a world full of known impossibilities. Sure, I tuned in with the auras of other people, something rare. And I was my Dede's granddaughter; we were scientific thinkers. Everything had a logical explanation. My ability wasn’t magical. Science explains the electrical impulses that make up auras. All you need to do is connect the neurotransmitters, pheromones, and hormones emitted by humans with person in tune with said emissions, and voilà, you have an empath. Or Ikna, whatever Dan called it.
But I could also hear Dede arguing with me. Although he had been a physicist, he’d also been a dreamer. ‘Logic will take you from A to B, but imagination will take you anywhere,’ he’d tell me, quoting his idol, Albert Einstein.
Keep an open mind. Right, Dede. Okay, I can do this.
Taking a deep, confidence mustering breath, I ignored Kale’s beautiful man-tinged sage scent. Go away, pheromones. I leaned forward to hear Kale’s story once again. Kale smiled wider and continued.
“There’s an imbalance of the spirits in the air, on this Earth. But there’s a time to restore the balance. Legends say there are nine signs. The first sign- white men will take the land belonging to no one and will strike with thunder. The second sign- our land will see spinning wheels filled with voices. Then beasts with horns will overrun the land in large numbers. Next, the land will be crossed by iron snakes. Then there’s to be a giant spider’s web that will spread across the land, stone made rivers will cross the land, and the sea will turn black, and this will cause much death. The eighth sign- young people will come to our land and learn our ways and truth. The ninth sign, the final sign they say, will be a blue star that crashes into Earth.”
As Kale described the signs of the legend of the fifth world, I mentally ticked them off in my head. The references to white men moving west, first with their wagons, their cattle, later their trains, their telegraphs, their highways. The hippies in town at Flag were more in tune with the Native American way of life. They identified more with the simple ways of the tribes, eschewing the complicated life of modern society.
I wasn’t sure about the last signs he stated, however, so I interrupted.
“This sounds like a great story, but I have a quick question. Gabe and I researched the word, pahana. Julia called me, said you guys thought I was pretending to be the pahana. I have no idea what or who that is Kale. I’m a girl who wants a little adventure. Maybe learn from a different culture. I don’t want to take over a culture. Seriously, it’s crazy, this pahana stuff. Why do you guys think I’m pretending to be the pahana?”
Kale sat straight on the couch. He wiped his hands on his dark jeans. “Well, there’s a ritual that can save many in the world from suffering, when the pahana arrives. It’s okay, take a seat. I’m not going to accuse you of anything anymore, Chelsea.”
I’d stood while talking, tension rolling off my body. Sitting back down, I breathed a sigh of relief. Kale scratched the back of his head. Tense energy surrounded him. He took a deep breath and released it quickly.
“I don’t think you’re pretending to be the pahana, Chelsea,” he said.
“Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. We had no idea what you all were saying and probably misunderstood. You probably said banana or something. Is Hopi for banana pretty close to English?” I nodded, smiling with relief.
Kale shook his head. “It’s not a misunderstanding-“
“Oh my god, so you were saying banana all this time-“
“Chelsea stop interrupting!” Kale said in his low baritone. He stood in front of me, leaning down as his large hands grabbed my own. “You are the pahana, Chelsea. I was in denial this whole time because, well, there’s something else. But let’s focus and stop talking about bunches of fruit okay? Are you with me?”
My eyes widened as I stared into Kale’s warm brown eyes. My body made a noise meant to be a laugh, but it turned into a snort. Brushing his hands away, I jumped from the chair and shook my head. “What’s up with everyone’s mood swings lately? First, you can’t stand me one minute and then claim I’m a messenger the next? I am not a pahana! I am a nursing student, completely ordinary!”
Kale raised his eyebrows as if to tell me he knew I was definitely not ordinary.
Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “Well, maybe not completely ordinary, in the most well-known sense of normal, but I’m not influencing anyone into believing I’m some messenger!” I flopped back onto the folding chair, wincing at jarring cushion of steel.
“Yeah, about that. See I was always taught that the pahana would be human, so once I saw what you could do… I figured you were putting on a stupid show. Trying to influence me into
believing you were the pahana.”
I heard half of what he said after the first sentence. My heart pounded in my chest like I knew Kale’s next words would be about a subject even more alarming than pahanas.
“Excuse me, who the hell do you think you are? How can you sit there and tell I’m not human?” I said, words filled with heat. My legs and arms crossed now as if posture could block the nonsensical words. Goosebumps covered my body. Feeling the uncomfortable sensation startled me. I could feel the truth in his words.
Denial could be a nice vacation from reality, but in the end, the truth always calls you home. Kale might not be giving me the answers I wanted to hear, but he thought he was telling the truth and his explanation, as ludicrous as it sounded, also made sense. My abilities set me apart from most of humanity, but I knew I was still human. Wasn’t I?
Maybe I’d been wrong all along.
My head spun. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
Who said the truth was pleasant?
Kale sat at the end of the couch closest to my folding chair, angled towards me. He looked at me with compassion, like he knew how I might be feeling right now.
“Haven’t you ever wondered about your ability to influence people’s emotions? You’ve got to know that’s a pretty unique talent,” he said, then scratched the back of his neck. “Damn. Why wouldn’t your family have explained this to you?”
I struggled to keep my voice from quavering. “Ok, so what are you saying Kale? Just spit it out.”
I prepared myself for what I perceived could be the worst. My existence was the result of a twisted lab experiment. As a baby, I had been infected with psychic monkey DNA. Or I was part alien. My mother was a Martian, or my father was a Jedi. But nothing prepared me for the words that came next.
“Dan called me. You could say we work for opposing factions, but we have the same goals. Anyway, damn, he should be the one to tell you this. But he said you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
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