"The pattern of all these events…" he said with a hint of a smile. "They are unfolding, are they not? Did you expect to be riding in a wagon to reach Santa Fe?"
"No." Even though it really didn't require an answer, she wanted to say the word with emphasis to let him know how crazy all of this sounded.
"And here we are. Did not this wagon appear just when it was needed?"
She shrugged. She wasn't about to give him anything. "I could have found my car."
He laughed and shook his head. "Not in this time, you wouldn't. It is dark and you are surrounded now by only miles of barren desert. You will see when we reach town." He held the child more closely to him and continued, "Your senses say you can believe this precious child and her parents are simply poor people, too poor to own an automobile, yet you can't imagine they could be living over a hundred years ago. When we come closer to Santa Fe, then your beliefs will be challenged. It is good you are brave, Casey O'Reilly."
"Who are you?"
Smiling, he said, "I have already told you my name, Luke—"
"I don't mean your name," she interrupted. "And you know that. Who are you? What are you? How do you know what I'm thinking? And just how did you walk out of that lightning? Answer me that. Was that your destiny?" Yeah… let's get some answers, she thought with righteous anger.
"You seem to have so many answers already. Are you sure you want mine?"
Tricky, but she wasn't about to be put off. "Yes. I want yours."
"It is my destiny in this moment to be of service to you."
"Be of service?" How was he about to service her? The thoughts rushing through her brain were sudden and shameful, and she pushed them out. "Oh, you mean like helping me in the storm… bringing me my shoe and wallet. That kind of thing."
He looked down at the child, and Casey saw that Elena's lids were getting heavy. She was also grateful not to see the expression on his face after her last desperate attempt to save some dignity.
"Yes," he said, shifting his arm so the child would be more comfortable. Elena sighed and snuggled into his chest.
Casey watched as he wrapped the blanket more firmly around the young girl and flipped the edge of it over his shoulder to provide himself some warmth. She felt a twinge of guilt for wearing his coat, which was keeping out the night chill. "Well, I do thank you for that," she said, "but what about the lightning? How could you have walked right out of it? It doesn't make any sense."
He glanced up and grinned. "It doesn't, does it?"
She shook her head. "How did you do it? Why weren't you hurt?"
"Do you have a good imagination, Casey?"
It wasn't a direct answer, but she'd play along. "I think so."
"What do you do for employment? Are you creative at all?"
"I… I'm an accountant," she fumbled. "But I can sing… well, I've been told I can sing fairly well. I don't paint or do sculpture or anything really creative, but—"
"Good enough," he interrupted before she could again challenge him. "Can you imagine what it was like only five hundred years ago when almost everyone believed the earth was flat? That if you walked far enough, you would fall off it?"
"Well, I can't imagine that," she said impatiently. "I mean, everyone knows the earth is round."
"You know that now, but try to imagine what it would be like for you to speak to someone from that time and try to explain something new, when they hold a very strong belief that everything you are saying is… how did you word it? Weird. Would it not be difficult to communicate your experience, your knowledge? Even though you know your truth to be real for you, that the earth is round and they will not fall off the edge of it?"
She thought about it for a few seconds. Why was she even getting into this maddening conversation with this man? She did not have a swell feeling about where it was leading. "I guess it would be difficult," she conceded.
He nodded his head slightly. "Thank you." He tilted his hat back into place, now that Elena seemed to be sleeping, and added, "Perhaps you will be patient with me, as I, too, find a way to communicate with more clarity."
She wasn't sure if he was saying she was backward, or what. "You certainly have perfected the fine art of evading a direct question, haven't you?"
He chuckled. "I am not evading. I am remaining patient, as should you."
"Why? Just tell me. Do you think I'm too stupid to comprehend your explanation? You're not speaking to a simpleton…" she said defensively. "I know the earth is round and I do have an imagination, but rationally, time travel is freakin' impossible!"
"Even though your words are not understood by the others, your tone is. Por favor, lower your voice. Elena is sleeping," he said quietly as he tenderly stroked her small head.
Feeling guilty, Casey cleared her throat. "Okay," she said in a near whisper, "so talk to me… I would really appreciate it if you answered my questions."
He paused for a moment, as though hesitant to continue. Finally he said, "Time is not linear, as you have been taught by others and have accepted in your rational, accountant's mind. It is circular, like a spiral, and travel within the spiral is possible."
Her brain, on overdrive, refused to comprehend his words. "Okay, forget it," she said with a wave of dismissal. "Let's just allow Elena to sleep the rest of the way and not disturb anyone with any conversation at all! Time travel… jeez, must be the millennium madness!"
"You can now see this dilemma," he answered in a soft voice. "Patience, Señorita O'Reilly. We will both need it to follow the pattern of events yet to come."
She refused to answer him and give credence to the insanity coming out of his mouth. They sat in silence for what seemed like an hour. Luke appeared very comfortable with it, yet Casey had a dozen questions racing around her mind. He still hadn't told her anything. Not who he was or where he came from or why he was able to walk out of the bolt of lightning without even so much as a blister. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed anyone could survive that kind of powerful force. Not only had he survived it, he seemed unaffected by it, and literally unaffected by everything else!
He didn't seem to be surprised to have found her… or these people… nor did he seem concerned that she didn't believe his crazy notions. He seemed perfectly happy just to go along with whatever happened and he was overly patient with it all. She glanced at him and could make out the outline of a man with his head bent, his hat now pulled down to create a shield for himself and the child he embraced in his arms. It was quite a scene, and she had to admit that unlike Luke d'something, she was definitely… affected.
She heard Elena's parents speaking in low voices, and Luke lifted his head and squinted out to the night. "A rider is approaching," he murmured, sitting up straighter and handing the child to Casey. "Take her and keep her close to your body."
Casey was stunned. "What do you mean? Look, you're waking her." Elena was making tiny whimpering noises.
"Take her," he insisted, and placed the child gently into Casey's arms. "Wrap the coat around her and remain silent," he finished. In one fluid motion, he was on his knees behind the adults in the front of the wagon.
Something told her to follow his directive and she drew Elena to her while wrapping the heavy oilcloth coat around them both.
"Buenas noches, compadre!" Elena's father shouted out into the darkness.
Another rapid-fire burst of Spanish followed, and Casey was completely lost again as Luke sat back down and released his breath. "The rider is Esperanza's brother-in-law. He has come to find them as it appears his wife's time to deliver has arrived and she is in dire need of assistance."
With his words, the reins were flicked and the wagon jerked. Casey held tighter to Elena as they picked up a rough speed. They must have hit every single rut in the ground, and she found herself crooning to the child, who was being jostled with each bump.
"It will not be long now," Luke said, while touching the outline of Elena's head under the blanket. "I d
o not think Esperanza's sister lives in town."
Casey didn't answer. She thought she saw something in the distance. A small fire, perhaps, and the outline of a tiny shack, but the wagon was moving so fast that it was lost in a jumble from her view. Another fire was sighted, and then another and another. Houses, small ones, became clearer on the open plain. She could make out occasional groups of trees in the valley. They had to be approaching a town or a settlement of some kind. Amy was right, these people must be very poor to live like this, she thought, as they lurched forward. She held Elena tighter with compassion. How she wished she could help the child.
They began to slow and Casey saw the houses were built closer together, almost like a town. Turning down one street, she was able to distinguish people and faces, all staring at them as they passed the adobe homes that were now attached, like row houses. Someone was playing a Spanish guitar, making it all seem surreal to her. Turning onto another street, the wagon finally came to a slow stop.
Letting out her breath, Casey looked at Luke. "Are we here? Is this Santa Fe?"
He nodded. She watched Sergio leap off the seat and hurry around the wagon to his wife as his brother-in-law slid off a huge horse. She heard them all speaking in Spanish as Luke reached for Elena.
"I will bring the child into the house."
Just as he took Elena, another woman came up to the back of the wagon and spoke in a pleading voice. Luke handed her the child and then answered her. It was frustrating not to know what was going on, but she didn't want to interrupt what seemed like a very tense time for a translation. She was definitely the outsider here.
The woman appeared to be Hispanic and said something quickly to Casey before rushing back into the tiny adobe house. Luke looked down and said, "We have been invited inside and—"
Sergio hurried back to the wagon and pulled a large cloth bag from the front seat, while saying something in Spanish and waving them inside.
"It would be an insult to refuse their gracious offer of hospitality," Luke finished, as he reached down to help her stand.
Casey rose on stiff legs and had to hold on to his arm to steady herself. "Well, that's really nice of them, but I have to find my sister."
He didn't answer her, just led her to the back of the wagon. After jumping down, he held out his arms to her. She only hesitated a few moments before allowing herself to fall into them. It was quite a rush after all the jostling in the wagon to be held in his arms again, but Casey wasn't about to allow him to work any more magic on her. She straightened herself and stepped out of his arms. "Thanks," she muttered. "Now, which way to Santa Fe? Do you think we can hitch another ride?"
A smile played at his lips. "You are in Santa Fe, Señorita O'Reilly. Welcome to The Royal City of the Holy Faith, as Don Pedro de Peralto has so christened it. Ironic name, is it not?"
She found nothing amusing in his words, though she knew he must think himself very witty that she would be in a city named for faith when she had very little at the moment.
"This is it?" she asked in disbelief, jumping as she heard a woman's scream from inside the small home.
"Yes, this is it, Casey. Now, come. We will not insult our very generous benefactors. Perhaps we can be of some help."
She backed away when he attempted to take her upper arm as though to lead her inside. Taking off his coat, she handed the heavy thing back to him and fought off a chill as the night air entered the tiny knit of her sweater. "I don't know anything about assisting in a birth," she said in a firm voice. "I will leave you now and find my sister, and then—"
"Oh, do stop your rambling, Casey," he said, taking his coat and again holding her upper arm. "I am not about to allow you to wander off into the night. We shall rest here and see if we can be of any help, to reciprocate the assistance we have received."
She was led toward the house, feeling like a selfish child. When they entered the small dwelling, she could see in a bright amber glow of lanterns that Sergio was holding Elena and talking to a very worried looking man. There was a rough wooden table and several chairs. A bottle of something was on the surface, and four small glasses looked as though they had been left in a hurry.
Another scream of pain was heard beyond a wall of colorful material that acted as a divider in the small room, and Casey again stiffened with apprehension. The man next to Sergio shook his head with worry and muttered something.
Luke left her side, dropped his coat and hat onto a chair, and walked up to the man. He held out his hand and whispered something in Spanish. The man nodded, smiled briefly, and accepted Luke's hand before speaking again, this time so fast that to Casey it was all a blur of sounds.
Turning, Luke translated over his shoulder. "His wife, Maria, is having a troubled birth. It may be breeched." He listened again to the man, nodding in sympathy, and then walked back to where she stood, rooted to the dirt beneath her feet.
"We must help, Casey," he pronounced. "The woman is suffering and the child may be lost if not turned quickly."
She felt like Butterfly McQueen as she blurted, "I don't know anything about birth." Fear raced through her that this crazy man would suggest she did! "Where's the doctor?"
"There is no doctor. None that would come here to the home of a Mexican peasant," he added with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Come with me and we shall see what we can do. I have already obtained the father's permission to assist."
"You're going to help?" she asked in a stunned voice. "Are you a doctor?"
He looked her directly in the eyes and said, "No, I am a traveler, just as you, but I will be of service if I can." He left her in the room with the men and walked behind the curtain.
Casey felt both men staring at her, the way she was dressed, and as Elena whined in fright when the woman again yelled out, she instinctively hurried to the child and held out her arms. "I can hold her," she said to Sergio.
The man seemed to understand her words, or maybe it was her body language, yet when he tried to hand Elena over, the child cried out and held tighter to her father's neck.
Even the child didn't want to be around her. Feeling even more guilty, she wrapped her arms around her waist and wondered if there was anything at all that she could do to be of help. Certainly she wasn't about to go beyond that curtain… was she? She had never seen a live human birth and, even though she desperately wanted a child herself, she was really scared of the process. She'd heard too many horror stories from the women she worked with, even her own friends who'd had children, to think it was anything more than the term implied… labor.
Maybe she could clean up their house or—
"Casey, bring me my coat."
She heard the words and saw the men staring at her, knowing that even if they didn't understand the English, it was obvious that Luke was directing her. Reluctantly she walked back to the wooden chair and picked up the heavy coat. Earlier, in the wagon, she had replaced her wallet in one of the huge pockets. What in the world could he want with it now? Surely the woman in labor didn't need it.
"Casey!"
"I'm coming," she yelled back, and walked over to the curtain. Not wanting to invade the woman's privacy, she merely handed the coat past the curtain.
"What are you doing? Bring it in, Casey," Luke demanded.
Slowly she pushed the curtain aside and gasped when she saw Luke holding the hands of a dark woman who appeared to be in agonizing pain. Esmerelda had her hand inside her sister's body. Casey felt the blood drain from her face as she clutched the coat and squeezed her eyes shut.
"In the pocket, the inside pocket, you will find a small stone. Get it quickly," Luke whispered gruffly.
Glad for something to do, Casey began fumbling blindly through his coat. She felt the stone with her fingers and pulled it out. She opened her eyes to see a crystal of some kind, and when she held it in her hand it rapidly began to get warm.
"Give it to her."
She tried to smile at the terrified woman while reaching across the low
, simple bed and handing the stone to Luke. He released the woman's right hand and clutched Casey's wrist. Instantly the woman flailed her loose hand and grabbed on to Casey's sweater, pulling her to her knees. Luke held Casey's hand up in front of the woman's face. He spoke to the woman gently, in soothing tones in Spanish, and then whispered in English, "Place the stone in Maria's hand, Casey, and then hold it closed. Do not let go."
The woman looked up at her with huge brown eyes that spoke of hours of agony. She eased the woman's grip from her sweater and tenderly wrapped their hands around the stone. Casey's heart seemed to melt at the tragic expression and she smiled encouragingly as Maria seemed engulfed in pain. No longer was she afraid for herself. It was the woman who was in trouble. The yelling had become whimpers. Casey needed no translator to know the woman was begging for someone to end her misery.
Luke spoke to Esmerelda, still working between Maria's legs, and when the older woman finally withdrew her hand and nodded, Luke looked at Casey and said, "Do not let go. No matter what happens… keep holding her hand. She will need your courage now."
Casey nodded dumbly, not knowing what he was talking about. She listened as he then spoke to Maria in a coaxing voice. The woman moaned loudly and then grabbed hold of Casey's hand with such strength, she swore the stone pressed between their palms would surely cut them both. But she didn't let go. Instead, she found herself pushing with Maria, willing her to give birth.
Luke called out, "Siga adelante! El bebé quiere venir ahora mismo, Maria! "
Sweat broke out all over Casey's body as she felt the pain in her hand, the heat of the stone, the strange urge she had within her to push along with Maria… anything to help. Casey stared at Luke, who merely nodded for her to continue as Maria screamed once more and he spoke to her in Spanish, again soothing her. She noticed that his right hand was now braced on the outside wall, as though he, too, needed to lean on something for strength. Soon Maria tightened her grip again and started pushing as another contraction demanded action.
The grunt of labor made Casey tremble as beads of sweat dripped down her spine beneath her sweater. Why in the world would any woman willingly go through this torture? she wondered, trying not to look at her own mangled hand. It had little feeling left in it. How could there be an overpopulation problem? Her mind was scattered and she felt herself feeling faint with fatigue. How could Maria, or any human being, survive this… ?
Heaven On Earth Page 4