Moonlight Water (32 page)

Damon decided to wait for dark, determined to walk out thirsty for however many days it took, knowing he probably wouldn't make it.

He climbed up and watched the Kravins go outward bound and saw his mom's gang come rolling along in the Bronco like a miracle. He watched the good guys try to sneak by and the bad guys follow the Bronco back to the mine.

He scrambled down to the best position he could to help them, behind a boulder above the entrance to the incline, waited, and at the right moment leapt in to save everyone's lives.

Deciding to jump onto Wayne from twenty feet up, “That was totally easy. I loved it.”

Red said, “It might have stumped me.”

And so Damon basked in the glow of his deeds. In Red's opinion he deserved every bit of it.

Then for miles through the twilight they whooped it up. They had to stop at the hospital in Montezuma City, where Gianni got his shoulder patched up but refused to be admitted.

From the hospital they went to the only convenience store open late and bought soda pop and snacks. Driving on, they played My Botticelli Is, with Damon winning every game. They sang old folk songs, and Red supplied new lyrics that everyone found hilarious.

Winsonfred said, “We're driving, but it feels like we're flying.”

“No more root beer for you, old man,” teased Zahnie. Winsonfred hadn't touched alcohol in years.

They partied their way south on the highway, straight through Moonlight Water and up the canyon to Harmony House.

Everyone made up for lost sleep.

*   *   *

After breakfast, Red said to Zahnie, “You want to take a walk?”

She heard something in his voice.

Red and Zahnie walked in silence down the canyon road. A changeling moon was sinking behind the bluffs to the west, its face mottled and ambiguous. They held hands. Sometimes Red stopped and kissed Zahnie, but she was hesitant. Finally they got all the way to town, and at the gas station Red bought them each a Phish Stick. Halfway back, when the ice cream was gone, he jumped up onto a boulder and patted the rock. She hesitated and then sat next to him.

“Zahnie,” he said, “this is a crazy time to ask this, but…” He heaved breath in and out. “Maybe any time would be crazy.” He locked eyes with her. “Zahnie Kee, will you marry me?”

She inched away from him.

He started to reach for her and held back.

“We're too different,” she said.

“I love you,” he said, the first time he'd spoken those words to her.

“We're too different.”

She looked as deep into his eyes as he had into hers. She said, “Let's keep it simple. We're good together now. That's enough.”

She slid off the boulder and they walked home in silence. There she said, “Let's go up to the Granary.”

She sat him down in her small kitchen and got out two beers. She danced over to him and handed him one. “Celebrate with me,” she said. She knew he didn't drink. They clinked bottles and she watched him take an obligatory sip.

“What are we celebrating?”

“I learned something up there at the mine.” She danced a couple of steps away. “Tain't what you do,” she sang. She clinked his glass again, but this time he didn't sip.

She drained her bottle, took his, and sat across from him. Her voice went serious. “How come I didn't get a dream to teach me like you did?”

“Maybe you didn't have as much to learn as me.”

“I've gotten something from our time together. Something big. I remembered to cut loose and dance sometimes, like that paper inside your van says, even if no one else hears the music.”

He considered at length. “You want to dance?”

She took his hand.

“Lying down?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

 

39

STRUGGLES

Don't sleep with your wife when you just come back from hunting. It will cause bad luck to your wife.

—Navajo saying

 

They climbed down the stairs inside the Granary and enjoyed the peace of safety. As they walked toward Harmony House, Gianni jumped in front of them, threw up his one good arm in a stop sign, and said, “Wait. You are about to see something special, a grand presentation of Gianni Productions, Unlimited.”

He walked them into the dining room. “Ta-da!”

Tony, Clarita, Damon, Jolo, and Eric were gathered around a woman who had them hooting with laughter.

Her back was to Red, so he walked around front to make sure.

It was her.
Oh, jeez, what now?

“Hello, Georgia.”

“Hello, Rob. Or Red.”

“You look like the cat that got the canary.”

“Yep. Caught the disappearing man.” She made a fang-biting motion and chuckled.

Red looked down and shuffled his feet. Zahnie took his hand and squeezed.

“Hello, Zahnie,” said Georgia, “I've heard a lot about you already, all good.” Red couldn't help noticing how good Georgia looked. Not just pretty, but healthy and alive.

“Zahnie,” mumbled Red, “this is—”

“I'm his wife, Georgia. But you don't have to let go of his hand. I already did that.”

Zahnie squeezed Red's harder.

“Georgia, I…”

“You what?” She looked like she was about to cackle.

“Red,” said Clarita, “act like a gentleman.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“I have a question,” said Georgia. They all waited. Her body language was a grin. “Yo, dude,” she said, “how does it feel to be dead?”

*   *   *

They moved outside to a picnic table under the trees. The day was pleasant under the shade of the century-old cottonwoods. Winsonfred, Tony, and Damon played horseshoes. They could see Red, Zahnie, Georgia, and Gianni sitting at a table but could not hear them. Gianni had a stack of papers in front of him the size of a Webster's. Jolo kept the pitchers of lemonade full.

“Who else knows?” asked Red.

“No one,” said Georgia. “Yet. Gianni said not to tell.”

Gianni gave his buddy a grin.

“His phone call came at a good time. I was in the middle of throwing Nora out of the house.”

“Throwing her out?”

“Let's just say it was something I tried that didn't work out.”

Red nodded and almost let himself smile.

“Zahnie,” said Georgia, “you don't need all that
he's-mine
body language. I don't want him back, and I hope you two do great together.”

Zahnie blinked at her.

“Really, I do,” said Georgia.

Zahnie gave Red's hand another squeeze and let go.

“Gianni spilled it all to me, your fake death and your version of a spiritual quest. He also told me to get my ass up here.”

“I thought I'd done enough that was fake, I oughta to do something real. And good.”

Eyes lanced from face to face.

“The question,” said Red to Georgia, “is what do you want?”

Gianni spoke up. “She wants good things for everybody, herself, you, and Harmony House.”

“No,” said a voice behind them, “the question is: What does the law want?”

It was Rulon Rule, all chesty with uniform-bearing authority. Red was amazed that Georgia's appearance had shocked him so much that he hadn't heard Rule coming. “I've heard some stories about you folks today, quite some. So I'm going to ask the questions now, and I'm gonna do it in my office. But let's start with this. Johnny Montella, you're under arrest.”

*   *   *

The charges the sheriff wanted to bring against Gianni were bad. Looting was a crime that could send you to county court, tribal court, and federal court, giving them three chances to crucify you. And Gianni was guilty as hell. He had planned to loot, he had executed his plan, he had helped destroy an archeological site and archeological knowledge, and he had tried to make a bundle doing it. Make Red a bundle, too. The sheriff didn't give a damn that Gianni had lost every penny.

True, Gianni had put himself in the line of fire to undo some of the damage—this mattered plenty to Red. Zahnie had mixed feelings. But not Sheriff Rule, who was a by-the-Rule-book cop.

Gianni made a quick call to Rosie Sanchez, knowing that a local lawyer, and a Mormon, was needed. She proved to be a fighting Saint.

Gianni presented Rose with a contract he'd written out months before and that Kravin had signed. It laid out the workings of a partnership. And in it Travis claimed he had found the site on private land. If Gianni had been deceived into thinking the excavation was legal, he wasn't culpable.

Rosie wielded that piece of paper like an ax. She told the sheriff the only culprits he had were the ones buried under tons of rock at the Road to Glory Mine, all guilty as sin. And considering what they had done, the county should be grateful as hell they were taken care of, with Gianni's help. What's more, she could point out after a few days that most of the artifacts were in good shape, crated up a couple of hundred feet from the explosion, of considerable value, and could be used to educate the public.

Rose told the sheriff that if he charged Gianni in the face of that contract, she would be delighted to bring suit against the county for malicious prosecution. About that time Gianni seemed to be falling in love with her.

Still, Sheriff Rule might have looked around hard and come up with cause enough for a grand jury to bring an indictment. And a jury might have used its common sense and figured the piece of paper was strictly Cover Your Ass. Therefore, Rose paraded her client's generosity in front of the sheriff. Gianni volunteered to help curate all the saved artifacts for the Museum of the Four Corners in Montezuma City, an act that would increase the museum's prestige, demonstrate the community's wise treatment of artifacts, and bring more tourists to town. He further volunteered to pay the museum's costs in creating a display that would put the artifacts in proper context and explain their meaning to the public.

So, if Gianni had lost a hundred thousand bucks on his grab for a bonanza, he now got to chip in tens of thousands more. Red's friend would be burning the midnight oil at the law firm for quite a while to get back to square one.

That didn't seem unjust to Red.

*   *   *

Several days later, when her shift started at noon, Zahnie drove to Montezuma City and bought a certain something at the drugstore that she would never mention to Red. Not that she really needed to run the test. She already knew.

Later, in her own bathroom, she did the test. She sat there and watched the stick turn blue. She was terrified.

*   *   *

Red had troubles.

His emotions bounced around like the Ping-Pong balls used to pick the winning lottery number. The balls whooshed around a glass cage, blew against the walls, and went crazy. Then the air was turned off and the balls fell down the hole, the first one bearing the lucky number.

In that whirlwind Red's brain didn't have a chance to pick a winner.

Georgia had gone off to see the Grand Canyon for a couple of days while Gianni duked it out with Sheriff Rule. Red was half-crazy wondering what Georgia had in mind. She didn't seem vengeful, but …

The fantasy of waking up every morning next to Zahnie Kee, preferably a naked Zahnie Kee, spun him to the sky.

She was apparently saying no, and that squished his Ping-Pong ball flat.

Zahnie wore a uniform, she had duties to perform, and she had a living to earn—these were her assertions. So every morning she kissed him good-bye and marched off. Every evening she came back home and took him to her bed. But she had an air about her. He could tell that she was waiting for him to ask her again to marry him and she was keeping
no
on the tip of her tongue.

He didn't know why—he didn't see any huge issues between them—and he didn't ask.

He needed to get a clear view of the situation, but his insides were a dust devil.

*   *   *

On one of Zahnie's days off, at the dining table, Red said, “Let's find a place where we can spend the morning at the river and skinny-dip.”

She stood up and took their breakfast plates and silverware away. She couldn't stand it. She had to push him back.
Had
to.

“I spend every day at the river.”

“Let's walk up the canyon then.” He took their coffee cups to the sink.

“Damon and I are going to Montezuma City.” Red would know this usually meant grocery shopping. She began running the dishwater.

“I'll come along and buy us all lunch.” He squirted some liquid soap in.

“I want this one just to be Damon and me.”

Zahnie and Red did the dishes, you wash, I'll dry. She kept her head turned away and expressionless.

Suddenly he took her shoulders and looked in her eyes. “What's going on?”

She looked out the window over his shoulder, pursed her mouth, and slid away from him a bit. “Just thinking about us. Differences. Things I can't get around.”

She put her hands back in the hot dishwater and made a face. She was determined to say it and have him believe her. She had to. “I have family here. I don't mean the Navajo people, or even the people of Moonlight Water. The people around the table in this house.”

She turned to Red and put it to him. “You're alone in the world. Not just recently, because you ran off. I don't think you ever had a family—a duo with your grandpa barely counts, and he's been gone a long time. If you ever knew how to be in a family, you've forgotten.”

She saw puzzlement and doubt in his face.

She reached for an iron skillet and started scrubbing, searching for the right words. “But that's not all of it.” She stared into the bottom of the skillet like ultimate reality was in the black iron. “You say you love me. You wait, but I don't say, ‘I love you.'” She looked right at him to say the hard part. “Because it doesn't matter. Whether I love you or not. This is fact. You dance to one beat, I dance to another.”