Walker of Time (12 page)

Tag put his hands on his hips, pursed his lips together, and shook his head. “What I would give to understand what you are saying about me,” he grumbled. Then looking down at the warmth in Singing Woman's face, he shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

“Tell me, Small Cub, does the other one wear something around his neck?” asked the old woman with a sly smile. She was still hugging the boy in her lap.

Small Cub's eyes stared at Walker's pendant. “Yes.”

Singing Woman's voice took on almost a musical quality. “It is a seashell cut into the shape of our brother the eagle, covered with small, even chips of turquoise.”

Small Cub looked up into the Singing Woman's face. “How did you know? You can't see with your eyes.”

“I see with my heart.” Peering in Walker's direction, Singing Woman said, “Welcome.” She lifted her hand
toward him. He knelt down in front of the woman and took the thin, bony hand into his. It was cold and felt as fragile as dry leaves. Yet as she held his hand, he felt great strength radiating from her. The mysterious feeling swirled in the air around Walker.

“My waiting is over. Time grows short for this old one. For you,” she squeezed Walker's hand tightly, tears filling her sightless eyes, “it just begins. My son, let your heart always see as well as your eyes. Peace and strength go with you and your people, Walker of Time.”

In silence, Walker followed Flute Maiden down the steep trail that worked its way to the floor of the canyon. He was trying to piece together all that had happened in the last hours. From Flute Maiden's stillness, he knew that her mind also weighed heavy.

Small Cub's chatter filled the air. He held Tag's hand, stopping every few minutes to point out things: a bird, a lizard, or an unusual rock formation. Even though Tag couldn't understand a thing Small Cub was saying, he grinned, nodded his head, and added to Small Cub's comments. “You are right. That's a three-toed woodpecker . . . Wow! That's the biggest hooded lizard that I've seen in seven hundred years . . .”

Listening to those two, you would think they understood every word the other one said, thought Walker.
Maybe they are listening with their hearts
.

After a good ten minutes' descent, the path evened out onto the narrow floor of the canyon. Walker could see a
dry streambed stretching down the middle of the canyon. From the lack of any kind of foliage, except for a few stunted cacti, Walker knew that the stream had been dry for two or three years at least.

Heading west, Flute Maiden followed a rocky path along the streambed. As the canyon widened, there were small, cleared patches of ground along the dry bed. They ranged in size from three to ten feet square. Walker had worked with Náat on such plots of ground near his own village. He knew that these spots had once been small gardens for corn or squash. Water from the stream would have been hauled in jugs to each plant. Rainfall and natural run-off during the monsoon weather would have supplied additional moisture. Each small spot could grow five to ten plants. Compared to the bahanas' huge farm fields of the future, Walker realized, these gardens were minute. Yet with special care and prayers, a few plants could yield a surprising amount of food. He also knew from his own farming experiences that it would take many of these small gardens to feed the people he had met in just the past hour. He remembered the hunger in Small Cub's voice. His uneasiness began to grow.

Walker left the path, taking the few steps that led to one of the larger growing areas. Kneeling down, he scraped away the top layer of dusty soil. He scooped up a handful of the second layer of dirt. Walker let the parched soil trickle through his fingers. He looked up at Flute Maiden, waiting on the path. She had a hauntingly familiar look in her eyes. Walker had seen this same worry many times in the eyes of his people when the rains didn't fall and the crops died.

Tag squatted down beside him, followed by Small Cub. Tag questioned, “What is it?”

“It was a garden. Guessing by the size of it, I think it was a corn field that had maybe ten or twelve plants at the most.”

“You mean like the small patches of corn that your people grow on the sides of hills and at the foot of the mesas?” Tag asked. He picked up some soil. Small Cub dug his fingers into the dirt.

Walker nodded. “These people are dry farmers, too. In order to survive, they have to plant every useable piece of earth and use every available drop of moisture. In the last few minutes, we have passed ten areas like this one.” Walker turned to look at Tag. “All of them have been abandoned for a couple of years at least.”

“So the stream must have been dry that long?” Tag asked.

“Longer. They probably still planted here even after the stream dried up, hauling water to each plant and hoping for the monsoon rains to come. I am sure that they needed to keep these areas growing and did. Until . . .”

“Until it became impossible to keep them alive because of the lack of water,” Tag finished. He shook his head and stood up. Small Cub popped up beside him.

Walker rose, brushing his hands off. “Flute Maiden is waiting for us.”

They followed the streambed for another ten minutes before they came to an area that was planted with corn. The wilted, brown stalks were only knee high. Walker could see only one small ear of corn on each of the ten or so plants.

They passed three more small gardens, all promising little or no harvest. Walker wondered where the men who worked these areas were. As if Flute Maiden had read his mind, she said, “Some of the younger boys grow corn here. The men farm the fields on top of the canyon's rim.”

How big were those fields? wondered Walker, following Flute Maiden. If there wasn't enough moisture to sustain crops here in the canyon, how could there be enough on the rim of the canyon? Walker's uneasiness knotted up in his stomach.
How can these people survive?
he asked himself.

Within minutes Walker smelled water. A small stream seemed to appear out of nowhere. The clear water bubbled up out of the ground between giant boulders at the foot of a deep ravine that ran to the top of the canyon. The ancient ones had dammed up the area, making a shallow pool about three feet by five feet wide. There was not even a trickle of overflow to wet the wide, dry streambed that continued to wander down the canyon. How much longer could this small spring support all the people? wondered Walker, staring at what seemed to be the only useable water source.

Three women with water jugs sat by the pool talking. They appeared to be between sixteen and nineteen years old. All were dressed similarly to Flute Maiden. A small, bare baby sat playing near one of the women.

“Running Boy, Gray Rabbit, Little Cloud!” Small Cub called to a group of small, naked boys playing on the nearby boulders. “Come! Come see! I have brought the speckled stranger!” Small Cub scrambled past the others, running ahead to his friends.

Flute Maiden led the way to the edge of the pool. She spoke to each woman by name. In turn, she introduced
them to Walker and Tag. Walker saw fear in all the women's faces.

By this time Small Cub and his friends had surrounded Tag, with Small Cub chattering like a magpie. “Come with us,” Small Cub cried, pulling on Tag's hand and pointing to where the boys had been playing in the boulders. His friends stood a few steps away. Their eyes were wide with wonder staring at Tag.

“Okay, okay,” said Tag, nodding his head. He took the water jug off his shoulder and handed it to Walker. “I have to admit that it's sort of fun being the center of this kind of attention.” He grinned, taking Small Cub's hand. “Let's go.” Small Cub led Tag away and the other boys cautiously followed a few steps behind.

“Be careful,” called one of the women; worry flashed across her face.

“Tag will watch over them, Bright Star,” said Flute Maiden. “How is your husband's leg?”

Still watching her son, Bright Star answered, “Better, since he is using the medicine you gave him.” Seeing that her son was safe, she smiled at Flute Maiden. “Thanks to you, it is almost healed. He is even working in the fields now.”

Walker moved a few feet away from the women. Kneeling down, he began filling the water jugs while listening to the women chat. Within minutes, the tension in the air had lifted. Again Flute Maiden had set the fearful minds at ease.

Taking the last jug out of the water, Walker set it down beside him. He sat back and watched Flute Maiden as she visited with the others. Her face seemed to shine with an inner serenity and harmony. Her movements were fluid, graceful, and self-assured. The strange but now familiar
feeling reached its fingers into Walker's mind, but this time with a soothing touch. He felt that he had known this beautiful ancient girl all of his life. He was at ease with her ways and thoughts. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling calm his mind and heart.

A harsh voice shattered the quiet moment. “So, again I find you with helpless women and children.”

Walker's newly found inner harmony crumpled. Throwing open his eyes, he saw Gray Wolf and three of his men standing a few feet away. Gray Wolf's fingers were white as he clutched his long spear shaft. Waves of hatred rolled off him. Walker rose to his feet, never letting his eyes leave Gray Wolf's twisted face.

“Of course, women's and children's spirits are the easiest to steal,” Gray Wolf snarled, taking menacing steps forward, “or are you using your witchcraft to poison our water?”

Walker heard frightened gasps and whispers from the women behind him. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Maybe you should try stealing my spirit,” snarled Gray Wolf, springing at Walker. He smashed the butt of the spear shaft into Walker's ribs, knocking him into the pool.

Anger, along with the natural instinct to fight, blazed in Walker even before he landed backward in the cold water. The rocks he landed on were hard. In an instant, he was back on his feet standing in the ankle-deep water. Gray Wolf stood poised with his spear, waiting for Walker to counterattack.

Waiting to kill you
, the realization crashed through Walker's anger into his logic,
to kill you in self-defense
. With water running down his tense back, Walker clenched his fist and his teeth. He squared his shoulders. Looking straight into Gray Wolf's hate-filled eyes, he stated loud enough for
all to hear, “I have come in peace, and in peace I will remain here.”

A startled cry shattered the hot air. “My baby, my baby!”

Turning, Walker saw Bright Star cradling her toddler. The child's face was a bluish color. Its eyes were closed.

“She was just playing with a rock, but now she's not breathing!” screamed Bright Star, shaking the limp child. “She's not breathing!”

“The witch!” screeched Gray Wolf, lifting his spear toward Walker. “The witch has stolen the child's spirit!”

Walker and Flute Maiden reached the mother, who was holding the limp child, at the same time. “The rocks—she must have swallowed one of the rocks,” Flute Maiden said, reaching for the child.

“Give her to me,” Walker said. In one quick movement he took the child from the mother's arm and turned her around so that her back was against his chest, her head and shoulder slumping forward. Just below the baby's tiny rib cage, Walker pressed his finger tips with a jerking motion. Nothing happened. He repeated the squeezing motion a bit more firmly. A marble-sized rock popped out of the child's mouth and fell to the ground.

Walker could hear the child's mother crying, the frightened women murmuring, and Gray Wolf screaming words about witchcraft and death.

Walker quickly turned the baby around in his arms. Her small face was bluish-gray; no breath lifted her tiny chest. “She's still not breathing on her own,” Walker cried, feeling panic rise in his chest.

From out of nowhere, Tag appeared. His large hands took the tiny, lifeless child in his arms. Kneeling down, he laid the baby on her back. Putting his fingers into the small mouth, he opened it and tilted the head back. He lowered his mouth over the baby's mouth and nose and blew air in. He raised his head, listened for a few seconds, then puffed again into the blue lips.