Fresh sap and damp earth assault my nose. Under bright sunlight, large, rough-cut slabs of glittery rock blanket the otherwise bare field. Some lie stacked on top of each other like the crumbling remains of a building. Awestruck, I circle the structure, running my fingers over what looks like a ruin.
“Incredible, isn’t it?”
A voice behind me sends my heart racing toward my throat. I jump, whipping around to find a young man leaning casually against a pine near the clearing’s perimeter, looking off to his left as though listening for something.
Even in the shade, his face glows. He smiles, showing off teeth that gleam like snowflakes between perfect lips. Hair as dark as Liddy’s French roast coffee falls around his face in unruly waves. His features are angular but refined, and his high, rounded cheeks soften the striking juxtaposition.
I blink, then blink again. Ruby. I rub my eyes. You’re hallucinating. But he’s still there, staring at me.
While I gawk, he pushes himself off the tree. “Not many people make it up here.” He smiles broadly.
A soft, purple-hued halo circles his golden irises, catching fire in the sunlight. They settle on me, and my heart stops, completely paralyzed by his faultless storybook features.
I exhale, trying to swallow inconspicuously. “It’s definitely a hike.”
“Who are you?”
“Who am I?” I sputter. “Who are you?”
“Leo.” He grins.
“I’m Ruby.”
“Ruby.” My name rolls off his tongue with a smooth “R” and a musical lilt. Somehow, he even manages to make it sound appealing. “First time up?”
“Yes. We just moved to La Luna.”
“La Luna,” he repeats. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
Earth to Ruby, I mentally smack myself. Since when has any boy made you senseless?
“You okay?” He smiles like he knows I’m not. Like he knows why I’m not. “Do you want to sit down? The altitude can be a bitch if you’re not used to it.”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine. No, I don’t want to sit down. You just really startled me. You should announce yourself next time.”
“Next time?”
“Next time you sneak up on somebody.”
Leo raises a perfect dark eyebrow. “But then it wouldn’t be sneaking, would it?”
My cheeks flush, and I suddenly want to drop through a hole in the ground. I choke out, “Ummm,” and something incoherent and then stare at my toes like they hold the keys to my future.
Leo extends a hand. “Come here,” he motions. “I want to show you something.”
Mesmerized by both Leo and the ruin, I follow him through the decaying structure, not caring that he could be a serial killer or lunatic. He leads me through a small section of the wall to a boulder with a flat notch near the center of the roofless building.
“What is it?” The boulder is almost magnetic, and I feel myself taking a step closer.
“A ruin.”
“Really?” I answer, raising an eyebrow.
“You mean what was it?”
I nod. Some people are so hung up on semantics. “What was it then?” I correct myself, rolling my eyes without thinking.
His top lip pulls slightly to the left. “Some say it was a pueblo storehouse. Others say, well, other things.”
“Other things?” I wrap my arms around my bare shoulders, smoothing the baby hairs on my upper arms that are standing at attention.
“Some folks think it’s a gate.” He pauses, apparently waiting for me to suck in my breath or something. “Not many people know it’s up here, but some of the old-timers, they say it leads to the Land of the Ancients.”
“What’s the Land of the Ancients?” I ask skeptically.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.” I smile sweetly, pretending I’m not a little unsettled.
“A spirit realm,” he says.
“Like Heaven?”
“Nope. More like a motel. Someplace you stop on your way to someplace else.”
I smirk, not at all convinced he’s serious. “So, The Land of the Ancients, it’s what, the River Styx or something?”
“I wouldn’t knock the veil between the living and dead, Ruby.”
“Well,” I say, trying to hatchet my unease, “You’d think the Ancients would put their gateway someplace more … convenient.”
Leo smiles something wicked. “It’s just a story.”
Leo’s tall tale reminds me of Liddy’s love affair with facts and science. She’d have laughed him off the mountain. “What do you think the ruin is?”
He shrugs. “Probably a holy site for the Pecos. See the stones in the ground?”
I hadn’t before, but once he points them out, I do.
“They radiate out from the center of the ruin. A few lead to the edge of the mountain. Some of the bigger pueblos in New Mexico, like Chaco Canyon, have thousands of them. They act as a bridge for a tribal shaman’s spirit travels.”
“Seriously?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Every culture has its witches.”
I stand completely still, taking everything in. The site feels sacred. Even the air, which hums like a transformer, feels hallowed against my skin. Dropping my backpack, I walk closer to the notched boulder at the center of the ruin. As I move to sit down on it, Leo dashes over and grabs my arm, stopping me.
“Don’t.”
“Oh, right. Because it’s sacred?”
“Because it’s sacrificial.”
“What do you mean, ‘sacrificial’?”
He raises his eyebrows, then pulls his fingers across his throat, pretending to slit it.
I shudder. “I thought that only happened in Mexico and Central America? You know, like with the Aztecs and Mayans.”
“Before the Ancients restricted the gate to spiritual travels, the Aztecs made pilgrimages here to exchange their souls for things like a better life on Earth or for passage to a different dimension.” His violet eyes glimmer, underscoring his sly smile. “Apparently, the gods and demigods of Ottomundo weren’t above trading for Earthly curios.”
“Ottomundo?”
“The Otherworld.” Leo’s face relaxes. “It’s what my grandpa called it.”
“So I can’t just sit down and barter my soul away?” I ask, maybe more amused by his fanciful story than he is.
“You could try. But when Awonawilona the Creator discovered that the gods were interfering in mortal affairs, she assigned a Watcher to guard it. I doubt you’d last a minute. Anyway, sacrifice isn’t always about death.” He shrugs. “Natives worship the Earth. It’s a symbiotic relationship. We make our own kinds of sacrifices.”
I stare at the rock suspiciously.
“If you don’t believe me,” he adds, “you could always test your luck. Otherwise, I’d stay off it.”
Except for a few incised glyphs around the boulder’s base, it looks so unobtrusive. I try to imagine someone’s head resting on the surface before being hacked off. The image makes me shudder. Sacrifice is one tradition I have a hard time swallowing. Killing for some supposedly bigger purpose reduces life to a catalyst rather than revering it for what it is in the here and now—a gift.
Apprehensive, I turn back to Leo. Between his unreal face and the ruins, I still feel a little speechless. “I’m not much of a gambler.”
“Smart choice.” Leo winks.
The sun shifts, casting shadows over half the structure. As Leo stares at the timeworn ruin, I clear my throat. “So, do many people come up here?”
“It’s not a very promising tourist spot. There are plenty of ruins in New Mexico you don’t have to work up a sweat to get to.”
“Do you come here a lot?” I ask.
“Is that a pickup line?”
“Umm … it would be if I was trying to pick you up,” I say, a little more adamantly than I mean to.
“I do.” He laughs. “It’s a good place to reflect.” Leo
’s eyes sweep my face and body appreciatively. He isn’t subtle. After a long minute, he points to a large log lying in the shade. “Come sit with me?”
I hesitate, fully aware we’re in the middle of nowhere and that he’s a stranger. But mental debate is pointless. Stranger or not, I already know I’m going to sit down with him.
“Fine,” I sigh. “For a little while.”
I follow Leo to the gnarly log and sit down, shuffling to my left when he sits down close beside me.
“You all right?” he asks when I scratch at my ears.
“Yeah. That buzzing’s just driving me crazy.”
“Buzzing?”
“You don’t hear it?”
He shakes his head slowly, looking at me with his curious eyes. “No.”
“It’s like the ground is humming. Or, like cicadas or something.”
“It’s the altitude,” he reassures me. “Your body equilibrating.”
“You think so?” I first noticed the drone when I stepped into the clearing, but now my ears are throbbing.
“I know so.” He meets my eyes. “Now tell me why you moved here, Ruby.”
Leo is a stranger, and we’re alone in a completely foreign place, but the urge to talk to him is so strong it’s almost like he willed it out of me. Without even really thinking about it, I tell him about moving to New Mexico, skirting around Mom’s death. He asks how I like La Luna, and I tell him how weird it is being so far from the coast. He asks about school, and I admit that the idea, starting Pecos High in a few days, ranks right up there with eating moldy cheese. I talk for an eternity, not at all sure he wants to hear even half of my stories.
“Do you live around here?” I finally ask, hoping to change the subject.
Leo points north. “Yes.”
“Did you go to Pecos High School?”
He smiles. “Did I? Or do I?”
“Do you?”
“No. But I did.”
“You graduated?”
“Yes,” he answers evenly. “I graduated.”
“Did you like it?”
“Not really.”
Leo doesn’t seem all that interested in answering my questions. And he isn’t quick to volunteer anything either. But I keep prying. “Have you lived in the pass for a long time?”
“All my life.”
“Do you go to the university? Or work? I mean, what do you do?”
“Lot of things, Ruby. What do you do?”
I sigh, frustrated with his evasive responses. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to know what I want.” He dips his head and meets my eyes, staring at me thoughtfully. “Like you.”
“Funny you think that. A year ago, I had my life all planned out. Now, not so much. Actually, I don’t know that I want anything anymore.”
Leo scans my face, sweeping over it like a searchlight. “Who broke your heart?”
I pull back. “What makes you say that?”
“Not wanting anything makes life easier. But spirited people don’t think that way. With spirited people, something has to break them before they trade wanting for complacency. And you, Ruby, you seem like a girl with fight.”
“I assure you.” I place my hand on my chest, holding it there tightly. “My heart is intact.”
“Oh?” He raises a dark eyebrow and tips his head. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”
Leo’s arrogance annoys me. I hate when people assume things about my life, even when they’re right. Especially when they’re right.
“I’ve been up here awhile,” I mumble. “I should probably start back.”
He stands up. “I’ll walk you part of the way.”
“I’ll be fine,” I answer tersely.
Leo chuckles. “I’m sure you will be. I’d like the company.”
Arrogant or not, Leo makes my heart twitter. I nod and pull my compass out of my backpack to mask my nervousness. As I hold it steady, the compass spindle moves east, then west, then halfway between both before wobbling slightly toward Leo. I shake it, but the spindle bobs erratically.
Leo holds out his hand. “Here. Give it to me.”
He takes the compass and taps the glass with a long finger, then hands it back. In my own hand, the spindle settles just shy of north, pointing me left down the mountain.
“Thanks,” I frown. “That was weird.”
“Must be those spirit lines.”
“Must be.” I laugh.
“You don’t need the compass anyway. I know the forest as well as I know my own face.”
I shake my head and smirk. Leo’s face is unforgettable. He must really know his way around the mountain. “Lead then.”
Leo walks beside me. More than halfway home, after assuring him I have my bearings, he stops, and points left. “I have to go that way, Ruby. You sure you know the way back?”
“I know where I am. It was the plateau that confused me.”
Smiling slyly, he rolls out, “It was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
I nod my agreement, but my brain isn’t feeling quite so courteous. That’s it? Maybe I’ll see you around.
Standing close, Leo brushes a strand of hair off my cheek. “Until then.”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out, so I smile and shake my head, hoping to at least look unaffected.
Leo winks and walks off through the forest. When he’s gone, I exhale, surprised to find I’ve been holding my breath. No one, and I mean no one, has ever made me feel so unraveled. Most of my friends went stark raving boy-crazy by tenth grade, but that madness somehow skipped me. Boys always seemed like too much heartache.
A thousand could-have, might-have, should-have-said-to-hims follow me home. Walking past boulders, and blankets of pinecones, and lightning-charred tree stumps, I focus on the forest and will myself to stop thinking about Leo’s stupid face. But it’s a useless endeavor. Like a broken record, my mind won’t stop replaying the glorious moment I first saw him.
Over dinner, I tell Liddy about Leo and the ruin, recounting every detail I remember while she doles out food from a bunch of takeout cartons.
“Okay, you found a ruin,” she says cheerily, as if stumbling into a ruin in the middle of nowhere is the most normal thing.
“It’s almost two miles up. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Not really.” She shrugs. “New Mexico’s full of them.”
I pick at my paper plate, pushing my dinner around. “I think the heat killed my appetite.”
Liddy pops a jalapeño into her mouth and makes an “O” at me with her lips. “So, this Leo boy, was he nice?”
“Not exactly. But I liked him.”
“And?” She narrows her grey eyes at me.
“I don’t know. I mean, I wanted to tell him things. I felt like I knew him. I was almost too comfortable all things considered.”
“Hmmm,” she says.
“Hmmm, what?”
“You’re right.”
“I am?” I choke.
“You were up there all alone, babe.”
“So?”
“So …” She hesitates. “You said it, he’s a stranger. You were definitely too comfortable.”
I look past her out the window toward the mountains. “I’m not Mom.”
Liddy’s voice softens. “Sweetheart. It’s not you I don’t trust.”
“Seriously, Liddy, how often do I meet someone I like like?”
Liddy stifles her smile. “Let me see.” She puts a finger over her lips as if contemplating. “Ruby, dear,” she laughs, “you’re the only almost eighteen-year-old I know who will go out of her way to avoid the opposite sex if you think anything will come of it.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re jumping the gun anyway. He didn’t even ask for my number.”
Liddy looks sympathetic. But also amused. “Why didn’t you ask for his?”
“Seriously, you didn’t see him. I couldn’t. I would’ve died.”
“It’s no
t like you’re chopped liver.”
“No. Really. I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“Why do you do that? I can’t just bat my eyelashes and get whatever I want.”
“Oh, Ruby.” Liddy holds her hands up in surrender. “You’re so clueless.”
She stands up and clears the table. I join her at the sink, washing dishes while she dries. Bad Ruby. I know I’m being defensive. But I can’t help myself.
We work together quietly until Liddy turns and smears a handful of bubbles on my nose. “Want to go to breakfast tomorrow morning? You can ask about Leo in town.”
I shrug.
Liddy swats my butt with a dishtowel, jumping back in time to miss the dishwater I propel out of the sink at her. “You’ll have to be faster than that.”
“Oh?” I giggle as water splatters her nose.
“So, breakfast?”
I nod yes.
“And you’ll ask about Leo?”
I shake my head no.
Her eyes twinkle. “Your loss, love.”
Three
Ghosts of Glorieta
The drive into town feels shorter than last time. Pines whizz past beneath a dense layer of black clouds leading the way through the pass. When we reach La Luna, Liddy stops the car in front of Margarita’s, a diner across the street from the sheriff’s station on bustling Luna Street.
“Save me a seat. I’ll be back in an hour,” she tells me.
Being a newbie makes me feel like an interloper, but I kiss Liddy on the cheek and get out of the car anyway, hopping on to the sidewalk with as much verve as I can muster.
“Try not to break any hearts, sweetie!” she calls after me.
Dumb as it is, that always makes me smile. She’s been telling me not to break any hearts since I was five years old. To date, as far as I know, I haven’t. I’ve never had the opportunity.
As Liddy pulls away, I head toward a small, grassy park at the end of Luna Street. A smattering of shops and businesses line the south side of the road, and I walk slowly, window-shopping along the way. Most of the small storefronts are clean and orderly, but a few, with their dusty displays and dim interiors, remind me of the long-forgotten towns boarded up off the side of the highway between California and New Mexico.
Between Wild and Ruin Page 2