Daniel Hecht_Cree Black 02 (8 page)

8

THEY PULLED into the parking area in front of Julieta's once and future house, next to Dr. Tsosie's dusty blue Ford pickup.
It was Cree's turn to be silent as she got out of the truck, hoisted her suitcase from the bed, and started inside. She was
instinctively listening, wrapping her thoughts around the faint impressions that seemed to swirl in the sunset light.

The hair on the back of her neck lifted.

The feeling was very, very faint, but it told her there was definitely something nearby. Maybe it was just the land, vast
and naked and hard, and there was truth to the idea of earth spirits—looking around her now, Cree could easily believe that
the shadowed rocks were inhabited.

At this early stage it was vague, a subliminal sensation like the tingling of the skin that signaled an approaching electrical
storm or the feeling of being watched when there was no one nearby. She wondered if this was what livestock felt when they
sensed an impending earthquake, hours before seismic sensors did.
Have to talk to Ed about that,
she thought,
the earthquake thing. Another geomagnetic connection with psi phenomena.
She pictured Ed's long, agreeable face, and suddenly she missed him terribly, missed Seattle and the clean light over the
Sound and the hubbub of First Avenue and Joyce's no-nonsense, upbeat attitude.

"Are you okay?" Julieta watched askance as she hesitated on the walkway.

"Fine," Cree said. "Sorry. Just . . . thinking of something."

They didn't find anyone inside the infirmary building, but Julieta said she knew where Dr. Tsosie and Tommy must be. "We've
been trying to keep him busy. He enjoys taking care of my horses, so Joseph is probably helping him do the night feeding out
at the corral. Our nurse, Lynn Pierce, is probably using the time to get some dinner for herself at the cafeteria. You'll
meet her later."

Julieta led Cree down a hall to a six-bed ward room on the right side of the building. They switched on some lights and dropped
Cree's gear next to one of the beds, then went out through a rear door to a pleasant backyard, where the L of the house, a
trellis, another couple of cottonwood trees, and a small, separate barn created a sense of enclosure. The flagstone walk split
around a well-maintained circular garden centered on a group of sandstone benches; to the left, beyond the trellis, a bathhouse
stood over the turquoise-painted swimming pool, drained now. To the right, extending beyond the barn, a rail fence wrapped
about four acres. A few hundred yards east, the near cliffs of the mesa glowed orange as if lit from inside. In every other
direction, the land stretched empty to the horizon.

"Do you ride?" Julieta asked.

"Not for quite a few years. Took lessons at camp for a couple of summers, once in a blue moon since, that's about it."

"You're welcome to come with me sometime, if you're here for a while. They need the exercise, and I've been too busy recently."

Standing together at the far end, the three horses turned their heads as Julieta opened the gate. At first there was no sign
of Dr. Tsosie or Tommy, but after a moment Cree spotted two figures approaching from the northern curve of the mesa, half
a mile off in the watery red light.

The horses crossed the corral, two fine chestnut mares and a black gelding with a distinctive yin-yang blaze on his forehead.
They nuzzled Cree's hands with soft noses, gave her mild glances with their long-lashed eyes, and turned their attention to
Julieta. They looked expectant.

"Looks like they haven't been fed," Julieta explained. "Maybe you could help me. We should do it while there's still light."

They walked between the high round rumps to the barn, where Julieta opened the door to the feed room.

"If you could keep them out of my hair—" Julieta said.

Leaving Cree at the door, she went into the room, hit a light switch, and began rummaging among feed bins. Cree stood with
the horses, feeling a little overwhelmed by their size and warmth. They crowded toward the door, pushing their long heads
past her to look inside. When she put her hands against the great slabs of their necks and pushed back, she was amazed at
how hard the muscles were beneath their coats. They smelled like sun-dried grass, good leather, and sweet honeycomb.

"Hang on, kids," Julieta called as she scooped grain into three dented aluminum pans. "It's coming. Hang on."

A moment later she came out with the grain pans and pushed through the horses. They clumped after her into the middle of the
corral and began munching as soon as she put the pans down. Dr. Tsosie and Tommy were closer now; the boy had his hands in
his pockets and he scuffed at the ground as he walked. Instinctively, Cree's every nerve awoke and craned toward him, her
senses alert for the buzz and tremble, the hidden turbulence, of a paranormal presence. She found only ambiguity. Or maybe
it was "interference," as Ed liked to call it: Every space was loaded with divergent energies, multiply haunted by the residual
echoes of human experience accumulating through time. Perhaps it was just the welter of ambient impressions, a spray of vague
auras and sparks, that obscured her sense of whatever lived in Tommy. Or maybe when his symptoms were in remission it literally
wasn't there.

Julieta broke into her thoughts. "Would you mind helping me with the hay?"

"Love to."

Occupied with their grain, the horses stayed put as Cree and Julieta went back to the barn. The bales were stacked to the
ceiling along one side of the feed room, and Cree helped muscle one of them down. She sneezed in the dust as Julieta cut the
twine and pulled it away.

Very quietly, Julieta said, "The idea of possession terrifies me."

"No kidding."

"Does that mean you and Dr. Ambrose believe in . . . demons? Evil beings who want to . . . whatever they want to do—corrupt
and hurt the innocent, conquer the world for Satan?"

Julieta began pulling at the bale, separating it into smaller blocks of hay. She worked efficiently, but her hands were shaking
as they clawed at the brittle strands.

"I haven't seen Tommy yet, but if there's one thing we need to get past at the outset it's images and ideas from pop culture
or folklore. I don't believe there's an evil mastermind behind supernatural phenomena. I don't believe in purely evil beings
of any kind, for that matter. 'Satan' is a concept people created to make it easier to rationalize the difficult or painful
things that happen. The demonic thing is strictly a European, Christian outlook. I tend to go with Freud, who said we should
treat ghosts with respect and neutrality, help patients come to terms with them and make them benign. Whatever this entity
is, I wouldn't assume it's evil."

"Then what
is
this goddamned thing? Why does it want to hurt Tommy?" Julieta's voice cracked, and she glanced back at the door as if afraid
the boy would overhear.

Cree felt her breath flutter shallowly at the base of her throat as Julieta's fear leaped into her. "It may not 'want' anything.
Ghosts are usually caught up in compulsions—they're seldom conscious of the existence of the current world, let alone the
ways their actions affect the living."

Julieta looked dubious as she finished separating the hay, setting out two flakes for each horse. When she'd made three piles,
she gathered up an armful and headed for the door. Cree took the rest and followed her past the munching animals to set out
the hay near a water tank at the middle of the enclosure. As Julieta bent to fluff the packed flakes, she frowned up at the
approaching figures of Dr. Tsosie and Tommy.

"I should tell you that even though he's the one who recommended we go to Dr. Ambrose, Joseph is having a hard time with this."

" 'This' meaning
me.
"

"It's not personal. Joseph is Navajo. He was born on the rez and has lived here all his life except when he went to college.
He's an excellent doctor, went to Johns Hopkins. He chose to come back to a job as an underpaid rural GP because he felt his
skills were needed here. He wanted to help his people."

A man on a mission,
Cree was thinking.
Not unlike Julieta. So the three of us have something in common.

The black gelding had finished his grain and was coming toward them for the hay. A hundred yards away, Dr. Tsosie raised an
arm to block the sunset light, watching them as he and the boy walked.

Julieta rubbed the glossy neck as the horse bent to pull at the hay with his soft lips. "It's a cultural issue. Joseph often
has to deal with problems created by the old ways of treating sickness. He isn't opposed to a patient having a Way sung, or
taking traditional herbs, as long as people also come to him early on. But too often he gets patients who've spent months
doing ceremonials and other cures and have come to Joseph too late—after their cancer has spread too far, or they're dying
of pneumonia or bubonic plague. Or they've got pregnancy complications that could have been avoided if they'd been caught
early. The Navajo curing Ways usually blame sickness on ghosts or witches, or the victim's failure to observe some ritual
or taboo. Joseph would rather his patients blamed poor nutrition or inadequate sanitation or alcoholism or neglect." She toed
a mound of hay closer to the horse's tugging lips. "My point is, he's learned to be skeptical. And he's pretty hard-nosed
about it."

"I can understand that," Cree acknowledged. "Are you telling me this so my feelings won't be hurt, or so I'll be nicer to
him when he challenges me?"

Julieta leaned her head back, her face hardening. "You're very observant. But I sure hope you have something more to offer
than hypersensitive psychoanalysis. Because I'm not the one on the couch here, and you're going to need something better,
trust me." Immediately, she looked surprised at her own words. She looked as if she were about to apologize but apparently
changed her mind. "Here come Breeze and Madie," she said instead. "I'm going to get their curry brush."

Cree waited with the horses as Julieta disappeared into the barn and Tommy and the doctor ducked through the fence at the
far end. Tommy didn't look like a monster. In fact, he looked like a typical kid from Cree's neighborhood in Seattle: slim,
bronze skinned, a round face that made him look younger than his fifteen years, big T-shirt embossed with images of the Wu-Tang
Clan rap group, baggy jeans draped over basketball shoes. When he got closer, she saw that his buzz-cut hair had some kind
of design shaved into the bristle.

"Hey," Julieta called from the feed room door. "Hey, Tommy. Hey, Joseph. We're just feeding the critters. Tommy, there's someone
I'd like to introduce you to."

The forced lightness of her tone broke Cree's heart. Julieta had shaken the loose hay from her beautiful hair and dusted it
from her shirt, and she wore a smile that would have done Miss New Mexico proud.

Doubleness,
Cree was thinking. She stood with Dr. Tsosie, watching Julieta and Tommy curry the horses, trying to put a name to the feeling
of this place, this moment, these strangers she found herself among. It was like swimming in deep water with your eyes just
at the surface, she decided, one moment getting a view of the sky and sun and boats and people, then submerging only a fraction
of an inch and seeing the blue depths and the vague shapes moving in them. Two planes of existence, hidden from one other
yet moving restlessly against each other and separated by only the thinnest membrane.

When he'd first joined them, Dr. Tsosie presented a piece of rock to Julieta, and for a moment they bent their heads together
to look at it. They argued briefly, and then Julieta broke away, laughing and shaking her head.

"It
is!
" he insisted. "I've brought you a valuable historical relic!"

"It's gravel," she countered. "And you know it. But thank you so much for thinking of me."

Joseph turned to Tommy. "What's your vote? Anasazi arrowhead or random chip of useless rock?"

Tommy just made a
go away
gesture with his hand, grinning shyly.

Joseph mimed dismay and betrayal, then smiled and tossed the rock over his shoulder. He joined Cree to watch as the others
cared for the horses.

" So—are you an equestrian fan, too?" Cree asked him.

"Me? I've always hated them," Tsosie said. "They've got the brains and temperament of chickens. For pets, I like dogs and
cats. As for vehicles, I prefer the ones with steering wheels and brakes."

"Don't go saying bad things about my kids," Julieta called. "Joseph's just down on them because he's a lousy rider and whenever
he takes them out they sense his inexperience. So they never do what he tells them. They're sweeties and he knows it."

Tommy said nothing, just rubbed the big muscles in the gelding's shoulders.

The interplay among the three of them was deeply double and deeply touching. Julieta and Joseph were obviously good friends
of long standing, and though both were very tense they were making an effort to create a simulacrum of a family for this boy.
Tommy, at least the part of him above the waves, was reluctantly appreciative, willing to play along with it as much for their
sake as his own. It was so compassionate and respectful, so fragile and artificial. A lance pierced Cree's heart.

On the individual level, each of the players was double, too. Beneath Julieta's roles as officious administrator and chipper
surrogate mom was some other act, some part of her life hidden yet running parallel to the actions and emotions she expressed
outwardly. The doctor, too.

And of course Tommy was double most of all. When he'd first been introduced to her, he'd shaken her hand, said a quiet hello, asked if she were another doctor, and
gone with Julieta to tend the animals. Quite reasonably, he was a little dubious about meeting yet another stranger wanting
to probe and scrutinize him. A pretty regular kid. But there was a parallel Tommy, a hidden unease and pressure below the
surface. There was the Tommy you could see, the one who stuck his head above the waves, and there was the rest of him moving
in a different and darker medium.