Chapter 21 - Returning Home

Mikayla knew this was a sign.  She hurried back up to her room and quickly changed.  She didn’t even bother to wash her face or put makeup on, as she was afraid that the sounds might awaken any light sleepers down the hall.  After arranging some clothes in her bed to look as though she was still tucked in there, she tiptoed downstairs.  In the kitchen, she grabbed some fruit and a couple of water bottles from the fridge and put them in her backpack.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearly quarter after three.  It was a solid five-hour drive north to Navajo country and she wanted to be back before Anna-Marie came back from work, if not sooner so she could pick Aiden up from school too.  She knew she better hurry.

Thanks to the code mysteriously given to her, she grabbed her leather jacket and helmet, slipped on her boots, and snuck out.

Walking her motorcycle out through the side door of the garage and down the street, she waited until she was a safe distance away from the house before kicking up the engine.

Senses on high alert, her eyes and ears were constantly scanning through the shadows under every tree and between every house, but everything was quiet.  The suburban streets were void of cars and darkness was behind every window of the middle-class homes.  It was eerily calm as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Streetlights lit her path as she rode out of the city and into the dark desert night.  The Catalina Foothills were on her right, their small sloping peaks illuminated by the gentle silver glow of the moon.

With the city lights behind her, and the desert opening up before her, the darkness that fell over her felt uncannily peaceful, and even comforting.

She made the mistake of looking up into the sky, her breath catching in her throat.  Pulling over onto the shoulder, she removed her helmet and turned her face up.  A thousand stars as far as the eye could see twinkled in the midnight blue sky, a sight she had never witnessed before.

She couldn’t help herself.  She hadn’t glimpsed the night sky as far back as she could remember.  From where she stood on the dusty side of the road twenty miles from Tucson, she could see every star constellation in the universe.  She knew that she didn’t have time to stare, but she couldn’t help it.  She had never seen something so breathtaking.

The biting cold desert wind brushed against her cheeks, and she realized that she had been silently crying.

All this time, she had been hidden away from the night and the darkness outside.  Regret consumed her of all the nights she could have glimpsed at the beautiful heavens above, if only she had taken a chance to look outside her window.

Still caged, she realized.  She had continued to imprison herself, just as her mother had.  It had all been necessary though, hadn’t it?  It was hardly fair, but she had no choice.  What else could she do?

And yet, she didn’t want to be a prisoner anymore.  That wasn’t how she wanted to live her life.

Settling her jaw as she cleared her mind, she reminded herself of her purpose on this trip.  She had to find out who and what she was so she could live outside those walls.  Hiding was just another cage that she locked herself in.

She was no kinder to herself than her mother had been.

With determination, she put her helmet back on, and kicked her bike up again and roared down the highway.

Aside from the odd car every few minutes, she sped ten miles over the limit, and saw no one else for miles.  She passed by the odd dusty house along the road, passed through small towns, but she saw nothing unusual lurking in the shadows.  Once she heard the beating of wings, but from the corner of her eye she guessed it to be an owl.

She stopped every now and then to drink some water and eat a piece of fruit that she brought with her, all the while staring up at the night sky, even as the sun began to rise and the stars began to fade.

Sadness filled her as her shimmering dark sky grew lighter and brighter.  Soon the sun was on the horizon, and for once she detested its arrival.

Carrying onward, she stopped at a gas station in a small town about sixty miles from the reserve to fill up her tank and use the facilities.

“That your bike out there?” the gas attendant asked as she slipped a twenty dollar bill across the counter.

She grunted in response, eyeing the beef jerky next to the counter.

“Is it a Harley?” He squinted at it just outside the glass door with the orange glow of the sunrise shining on it.

She didn’t respond, but instead grabbed a bag of jerky and eyed the candy bars.

“It’s a classic bike, but why don’t you have something flashier, like a Kawasaki or a Ducati or something?”

“It was my dad’s.”

“Nice.  The man has good taste.  Makes sense that he’d—”

“He’s dead.”

She slapped another paper bill on the counter and grabbed the bag of beef jerky as the man twitched in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine.  I don’t remember him anyway,” she said over her shoulder as she reached for the exit.  She nodded to the bill on the counter.  “Keep the change.”

She walked out as she tore into the bag and shoved one of the salty morsels into her mouth, savoring the rich smoky flavor.  She didn’t treat herself to jerky often, but she figured she would need it today since she had eaten her last piece of fruit already.

It was around 7:30 when she crossed into the reserve.  She looked for signs for Shady Rock, but found nothing.

Giving in, she pulled into another gas station and asked for directions. She was comforted by the sight of an older Navajo man behind the counter, but he eyed her cautiously, paying particular attention to her unusually colored eyes and piercings.

She greeted him in their native language, and he relaxed, smiling back at her.

“What brings a young one like you in today?”

“I’m looking for Shady Rock,” she told him.

“Ah, are you here for the powwow this weekend?”

She shook her head. “I wish I could, but I can’t stay.  I have to return to Tucson tonight.”

He knit his thick black brows together.  “Tucson?  You’ve come a long way for just a short visit.”

She nodded, feeling unusually comfortable in his presence.  “I have no choice.  I need to see a hatáli in Shady Rock.”

His face lit up.  “Ah, you’re looking for Clear Waters Run Deep.  I understand the meaning of your business now.  Here, let me get you a map.”

He went over to a map dispenser and pulled a map off of the reserve.  He brought it over and opened it up on the counter before her.  Grabbing a pen, he circled a small village.  “Shady Rock is here.  Take this road up to here and keep your eyes open for a sign that says Route 7.  Follow that west for a bit.  You’ll see the village when you get to this intersection.  Turn left here.  You’ll pass by a few driveways, I can’t remember how many.  Look for a driveway on the left with a large rock on each side.  The rocks are inscribed with his symbol, so people know it’s him.  Good luck.  And tell him Big Red sends his blessings.”

Mikayla nodded her thanks to him before leaving.  She glanced at the symbol he drew next to her village on the map and figured it was another 20 miles northwest.  The roads were not as smooth on the reserve, so she knew she couldn’t go speeding through as easily.  She guessed it would take her another 20 or 30 minutes to get there.

She put the last bit of beef jerky in her mouth, and put her helmet back on, sucking on the juices as she went.

The sun was a bright yellow disk in the sky and she could see clouds forming far off in the west.  The temperature was slowly increasing by the degree each minute it felt like.  It was still much cooler than it would have been weeks ago with winter on its way.

The cracked and dusty roads got worse the deeper she got into Navajo country.  There was nothing for miles before her.  The land was flat and she could see large rocky landforms far off in the distance.  There were no towns, or even homes along the stretch of road.  She was glad that she stopped when she did to ask for directions, otherwise she would have driven too far and gotten lost.

When she found the village, it was nestled in the southwest portion of an intersection with just a painted wooden sign to serve as a place marker.

Shady Rock. Population 111.

The knot in her stomach doubled over as she turned down the street Big Red told her about.  She didn’t have to look hard for the stones because they stuck out clearly on the dusty road 50 yards up.

She drove past two driveways, merely tire tracks in the dirt to two small shacks, and pulled to a stop in front of the large stones about three feet tall and two feet wide.  She saw the symbol on the rocks, just as Big Red had shown her, and pulled her vehicle into his gravel driveway.  His was the only one that resembled a driveway, perhaps because he got frequent visitors to his house.

The hatáli's house was small, but still larger than many of the excuse for homes in this area.  It looked simple, but well maintained.  It was a wooden structure with a brown tin roof.  Unpainted, but the boards were in good shape.  It reminded her of amá sání’s house, which had been painted gray once upon a time.

Numerous shrubs and cacti decorated his front yard, and she though she glimpsed a structure hiding in the backyard that could only be a green house.

She turned off the ignition and kicked out the stand to park her motorcycle as she stared at the house.  A tremor coursed through her body and she rubbed her arms to try and rid herself of the shivers.  Soon afterwards, the front door opened, and the old man stood there, just as she remembered him.

His hair was still long and gray and pulled back in a tight braid behind his head.  His deep-set eyes were still their odd shade of black with hints of purple, but she focused her gaze away from those all-seeing orbs.  The creases in his face hadn’t changed a bit, and the smile he gave her was heightened by the deep groves in the corners of his mouth and the three pronged crow’s feet next to his eyes.

She averted her gaze immediately, scanning over the neighborhood… if it could be called that.

The open desert was the view from the front of his house and behind him was the village.  She had never explored the village herself, but she guessed that she must have lived on the other side of it because she didn’t recognize the desert before her as being similar to the view from her grandmother’s house.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Clear Waters Run Deep removing the morning frog from his throat.

“It’s been a while.  You’re looking well.”

Shoving her hands in her pockets, her gaze lowered, she turned back toward him and nodded her head in greeting.  “I think you know why I’m here,” she said.

He chuckled lightly.  “I would ask you to come inside, but I think you’d prefer a walk to stretch your legs after such a long journey.”

She nodded as he shut the door behind him and walked past her to the street.  Following a few paces behind him, she studied the village as its residents went about their daily routines. 

The village was small, as she suspected, with just a gas station, general store, and diner all attached to one building that served the needs of the residents.  As they passed by, people nodded their heads in greeting to Clear Waters, and ignored Mikayla—much to her relief.  Naturally, she did not want to be approached by strangers; she just wanted a tour of her village without being disturbed.  There wasn’t time for idle chitchat either.  She couldn’t stay long, but deep down she wanted to see the house she had spent ten years of her life in.

Sure enough, the pair stepped in front of her former home at the far edge of her village.  Clear Waters paused, staring at the house momentarily before turning back to Mikayla and watching her carefully.

They hadn’t said a word during their walk, for words were not needed then, and they weren’t needed now.

Mikayla stared at the boarded up shack.  There was a large crack in the foundation and some graffiti on the door.  The roof had been torn clean off, most likely stolen and to be used for some other purpose.  Now it was open for the sun to shine down and the rain to pour in.

There were no more secrets in that house.  Everything was out in the open now.  Ransacked and vacated, it was simply an empty box that could no longer be filled.

Her fondest memories took place in that house.  Now it was stripped of its love, and would never be inhabited again.

She turned to Clear Waters, fighting back the sting behind her eyes.  About to ask if she could look around the premises, he nodded before she could even utter a word.

She picked up her feet and headed down the dirt path that used to be the driveway to the house.  The soft crunch of the pebbles under her boots reminded her of the sounds of amá sání’s car pulling up.  She touched the side of the house and looked over her shoulder to the backyard.  Running her fingers over the wall of cracked and peeling gray paint as she made her way to the back, she was almost afraid of what she might find there.

The backyard was enclosed in a crumbling wooden fence.  It had been her favorite place to go as it was the only place her grandmother would let her go outside.  She loved to tend to amá sání’s garden, pulling out weeds, planting seeds, mixing compost and fertilizer in the soil—digging her fingers in the dirt had been so much better than sitting inside in the dark, dingy house.

She peered over the collapsing fence, her suspicious confirmed.  The soil was dry and cracked; prickly weeds sprouted here and there where there were once lush green vegetables and herbs planted.  A few trace perennials remained, shriveled up and scraggily, perhaps too weak and starved to return in the spring.

Glancing at the back door that was also boarded up, she attempted to swallow the lump in her throat as she recounted all the memories she had in that space.

Sighing after a few minutes of staring at what was once her life, she turned and heading back to the street.

Clear Waters was still standing there, waiting patiently for her to return.  She appreciated him not invading her need for privacy and space as she said goodbye to her childhood.  She nodded at him, and he turned and led her back to his house.

This time, the silence that followed them down was interrupted halfway back.

“How have you been these last two years?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “Fine, I guess.”

He nodded, looking up to the sky as he walked.  “Your eyes have been opened recently, haven’t they?”

She played with the ring pierced between her lips, unsure as to how to respond.  “I guess that depends on what you mean.”

“You’ve come with many questions that you hope I can answer,” he said.  “Most of which I can, but some are outside even my own knowledge.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.

“If you don’t know, then who will?” she asked, almost afraid of what he might say.

He avoided looking over his shoulder at her, and she glanced up from the ground at his long braid swinging gently behind him as he moved.  His head was lowered as if watching carefully where he placed his feet. 

“Your kind, of course.”

Grimacing, she didn’t want to ask, but she knew she had to.  She’d come this far, she had to find out all the details now, no matter how terrible they might seem. 

She opened her mouth, but found her throat to be blocked.  She cleared it, spitting the slimy phlegm out next to her on the parched earth.  “And what is my kind?”

He paused and she saw his shoulders slump for a moment.  Stepping up next to him, she studied his lowered face from the corner of her eyes.  His deep-set eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed and the canyon of winkles dug deep in his forehead and made his frown that much harsher.  He turned his face up towards the sky as the breeze picked up the flyaway strands of hair from his face and he inhaled.  The intensity in his face gave her the impression that he was thinking of the right way to tell her, but maybe that wasn’t it at all.  Maybe, he was listening for the answers on the wind?

Finally, he opened his eyes as he lowered them from the blinding glare of the sun, and looked at her from the downward pointed crows feet.  “A Shadow Walker.”

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Author's Note:  The name "Clear Waters Run Deep" was used by someone in 2008 to describe me and I thought it would make the perfect name for our hatáli (aka. Medicine Man or shaman). :) Thanks for reading!