Visions (9 page)

Maki shook his head, leaning on one elbow, the weapon hard against his side.

“No? Sure ain’t talkative, are you? None of you? Well, we can get into the details back at the jail, if you’ll just follow me, gentlemen. My wagon is waiting, and thank God you can ride in back and not up with me. Whew! We’ve just
got
to get you boys into a tub and scrub you up. I keep a clean jail.”

Han had moved away from Maki a couple of steps, and Dorald a few steps beyond him, the axe hanging limply in one hand. His teeth were showing in a kind of death-grin, and the dangerous glint had returned to his eyes, telling Maki the big Tenanken had reached the limit of self-control. Dorald took two tentative steps towards the Hinchai, and the blue-black hand weapon swung around to point directly at his stomach.

“Now don’t get stupid, man! This here’s a forty-four, and your size won’t do you a bit of good. One shot, and you are a dead person. Now you all quit your movin’ around, and get together again.” The Hinchai’s voice was low and ominous as he motioned them together with the hand weapon. “It suddenly occurs to me I’m lookin’ at Jake’s critters, and damned if’n he wasn’t pretty accurate. All the thievin’s been goin’ on around here, and it turns out to be white folk; I think you have a lot to answer for, so let’s get on with it. Over here, now, all of you.” The Hinchai turned slightly away from Maki, motioning them to one side.

Maki slid his weapon out from under him in the tall grass, grasping it in one hand and sitting up as if to stand.

Han’s hand slid down the shaft of his standing spear, grasping it lightly with two fingers.

The muscles in Dorald’s right arm suddenly knotted as he gripped the axe tightly. He took another step towards the Hinchai, staring into the black maw of the hand weapon.

“I’d rather take you in alive, but I’m not particular in your case, mister,” said the Hinchai.

Han’s arm moved in a blur, straight up, then over in an arc, the spear appearing as if by magic in the chest of the Hinchai. The man grunted, surprised, turning to face Han as Maki pulled his weapon to his shoulder and fired in one motion, gratified when the man’s body slammed back into a boulder and blood exploded from his mouth in a bright gush splattering his clothing in red. Dorald moved in for the kill, swinging the axe high over the wide-eyed Hinchai who looked up at him and gurgled, “Who the hell are you people?”

The axe descended, the impact a sickening crunch simultaneous with the explosion of the Hinchai’s hand weapon.

Dorald leaped backwards, leaving his axe embedded in the shattered remains of the Hinchai’s skull, turning slowly to face Han and Maki, clutching at his stomach with one hand, eyes sad. He held out a hand to them, saying nothing, taking one staggering step, and then Maki saw the blood oozing out between his fingers. Another half step, then Dorald groaned, and sank to his knees, grabbing his stomach now with both hands. Tears trickled from his eyes and down his face as Han and Maki knelt before him, helpless in the sight of a horrible wound, putting their hands on his shoulders. Before their eyes, his skin was suddenly ashen and turned cold to the touch.

“I’m sorry,” said Maki. “You fought well, and killed our enemy. This is committed to The Memories, and the Tenanken will remember your deed in the Visions. Forever.”

Dorald grinned weakly, eyes glazing over as he whispered his answer. “I crush Hinchai skull good,” he said, and then his eyes rolled upwards, a belch of black blood issuing forth from his mouth as he toppled forward so quickly they could not hold him up. His face hit the ground with a thud, and it was only then that Maki saw the fist-sized hole in Dorald’s back, streaming blood past a shattered array of bone and nerve fibers that had once been a spine. Maki turned his face from the sight as Han moaned softly.

“The Hinchai has killed him. My friend is gone.” Han’s voice was filled with grief, and Maki felt sudden guilt at the times he had wanted to be rid of the big Tenanken. He put an arm around Han’s shoulders, and they sat by the body for a moment. “He was my friend, too,” said Maki, partially believing it. “He wanted to be a warrior, Han, and at the end he was, with us at his side. Now he is in a better place. We will grieve for him, then do what we must do. Whatever happens, Anka or anyone else in the caverns must not know about this. We must bury the bodies quickly out of sight, with no evidence of digging.”

“I have no ochre,” said Han.

“There’s red clay near the canyon rim, and flowers. I have a little food left.”

“We’ll have to move him there.”

And the Hinchai. We dare not leave anything here.”

Han jerked the axe from Hinchai bone, then his spear. “I will cut the branches.” He scurried away towards the trees.

Maki surveyed the disaster site. The big Hinchai was sprawled over a boulder, the contents of his skull splattered over the rock, eyes open and staring at the sky. Maki twisted the hand weapon from his fingers, fiddling with it until he understood recent Memories, then removed the belt and holster from the body, replaced the weapon protectively and buckled the assembly around his own waist. He dragged the Hinchai from the boulder, and used a bunch of grass to wipe away the trail of goo left behind, while Han chopped furiously to bring down four, small trees.

It was late afternoon before they had finished making a simple travois for each body out of limbs and soft roots covered with fir boughs. Han insisted on pulling his friend, and started out before Maki was even ready. Maki dragged the Hinchai unceremoniously to the travois, flopped him on it, chambered a new projectile into his pointing weapon and began the long pull back to the canyon.

There will be consequences
, thought Maki.
The Hinchai will be missed, and then a search party. They must not find the body; Pegre will relay the story directly to Anka, and a connection can be made to the return of his son. There must be no suspicion before Hidaig’s arrival. Put the bodies in different places, under rock where they can never be found. The Hinchai has simply disappeared, gone away for a while to another settlement. By the time they look for him, it will be too late.

Maki felt assured by his analysis, but there was an important flaw in the logic, for he had neglected to ask himself how the Hinchai had found and then intercepted them in their camp. Back near that camp, the Hinchai’s wagon and two horses still waited on the road, a telescope pulled out to full length across the driver’s seat.

* * * * * * *

They reached the edge of the canyon near dusk, panting from the uphill pull, and near exhaustion. A spine of rock ran up the hillside like the dorsal of some great, buried fish, rotted and falling down in places, the ground around it covered with debris. They dumped the Hinchai body into a wide crevice, and threw rocks in after it until the crevice was filled. But Dorald was special, and they searched carefully for a place until Han called out, “Over here, and I can see the canyon. Maki, it’s perfect for him.”

Maki climbed the hill. Near the end of the rock spine was a deep depression shaped like a tub, bottom covered with a thin layer of soft earth washed in by rains. He studied it, then said, “We can build a roofed cairn over him, then cover it with rocks. We’ll lay him thus, so he faces the rising sun and his spirit can meet it for the last journey. See, those flat rocks there for the roof of the cairn.”

Han nodded solemnly. There were no tears, now, as he helped to prepare his friend for a transition to the everlasting life of a spiritual world without earthly pain and suffering. He struggled with Maki to pull the travois up the final hill, and unloaded the big Tenanken gently into the rocky depression. Using red clay and saliva, he decorated Dorald with the marks of a warrior, and crossed his arms over his chest with the fingers of both hands curled around the big axe. Into the depression they put two small bags of food within easy reach, then covered their companion with flowers picked from the hillside. The cairn went up quickly, rectangular-shaped with a flat roof nearly touching the thick chest, a miniature tomb for one warrior, and then they piled rocks in random fashion until the depression was filled to the brim, as one with the entire outcropping.

The sun was setting when they finished, and they went to bed hungry and sorrowful.

When they awoke in the morning, it was with sudden knowledge that the spirit of Dorald had flown into the sun. Han wept. Maki stood with him a while by the rock-covered tomb, and then they packed, the Hinchai weapons going into Maki’s long pack. They made the short walk to the caverns along the bluff and down steep shelves past the place where Baela perched in a tree, watching them. The sky was dark blue, a gentle breeze cooling them along the canyon. A day Dorald would have loved.

When they neared the entrance, Anka suddenly appeared and hurried to meet them, opening his arms and emotionally embracing his son. “You’ve come home,” he said, choking back tears. “I thought I’d lost you, but you’ve come home. Let me get you something to eat, and then there is much to talk about.”

As they went inside, scavenger birds had begun to circle above the bluff at the end of the canyon.

SUNDAY

Pete kept nodding off during the sermon. His head would droop, then snap up, eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. Bernie noticed. When the service was over, they filed out of the little, white church, said their good mornings and made polite conversation about the weather before returning to the wagon. Pete boosted her up, and Bernie clambered in grunting, fanning herself with the church program in noon heat. They drove out of town, staying on the road for a mile before turning off into two ruts for a rough, uphill ride, the wagon bouncing so hard at one point that Bernie turned and said, “One more like that one, and you can deliver your own child right here.” Pete grinned at her, and slowed a little.

When they reached the top of the hill the ruts became a road again, for they had taken a shortcut that would soon be graded as well. It was the view from the top of the hill they had endured a bouncy ride for: the little valley below, surrounded by a ring of trees, and beyond that the cliffs and brush-filled canyons leading to a high plateau covered with grass and flowers. The ranch was centered within the trees, buildings made from rough-hewn logs, the first poles in place for a fence.

“Ours,” said Bernie.

Pete took her hand. “Wish your folks could’ve seen it. You said they always wanted a place like this.”

“Daddy’d be satisfied that one of us got it. He never really wanted anything for himself, but momma did. I don’t want to think about it. Let’s get down there, and get some work done. You hungry yet?”

“Didn’t you hear my stomach in church?”

“Nope. The snoring was too loud for that. How does biscuits and sausage sound?”

The wagon lurched forward. “Good enough for a fast ride downhill. Hang on!”

Bernie yelled all the way down the hill.

They unloaded cans of varnish and large brushes from the back of the wagon, and hauled it all inside the big house facing west. Pete varnished a floor while Bernie cooked breakfast over the big cast iron stove, and they ate together on a small table in the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon Pete varnished while Bernie sewed and hung curtains in the upstairs bedrooms. Supper was cold meat, potatoes and coffee, and as the sun was setting Pete lit the lamps before they went out to the porch to sit in matching rocking chairs, custom ordered from Quincy, and watch the evening come.

Bernie sighed. “Look at that red, red hill. Did you ever notice how the birds get quiet just as the sun turns red? I wonder if the color has something to do with it?”

“Who knows? For some people it means drinkin’ time. Business usually picks up about now.” Pete rocked in his chair, and took a big swallow of coffee.

They sat in silence for a minute, then Bernie said, “Did you ever think you’d have something like this? You know, when you were living with Savas, or even before, in Greece? Did you ever think you’d have a big house in a valley all to yourself?

Rocking together in growing darkness, watching the stars come out, Pete considered the lie he’d lived, and decided to continue. “We talked about it some. The old man told me I could get whatever I wanted or be whatever I wanted to be if I worked hard enough. After a thousand times of hearing it, I guess I believed him. Sure, I wanted a nice house someday.”

“Momma dreamed about having a place like this, but daddy was never able to give it to her. Poor daddy, he tried so hard and loved us so much, but he never did very well. He just didn’t have the business smarts like you do, Pete.”

“But he was a good man.”

“Oh, yes, he was a very good man, and I learned a lot of things from him, like how to respect everyone’s dignity and never look down on anyone.”

“Good thing for me he taught you that.”

Bernie looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, just the way things happened when I first came to town: the stares, the jokes about the way I looked and talked, the way the women hugged their kids to them when I came near. Then I saw you in the store that day, and you were laughing with the clerk about a potato with a strange shape. I thought to myself you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, and my heart nearly stopped when you turned and smiled at me.”

“It was easy; no man had ever looked at me that way before. Your face lit up like a lantern. By the way, that potato looked like a giant penis.”

“All I noticed was you.”

Bernie reached over, and grabbed his hand. “Still feel that way?”

“You bet.” He squeezed her hand and held it until darkness fell, and he went inside briefly to get a cup of coffee. When he returned, Bernie was rocking gently in her chair, both hands on top of her tummy, smiling the contented smile of a woman feeling the stirrings of life inside her body.

“What was Savas really like? Everyone in town was kinda afraid of him, and wouldn’t go near that old cabin of his. If anyone’d know him, you would. I only saw him a couple of times when he came to town.

“Well, he was Greek, and he took me in.
So far, the truth.
He wasn’t what you’d call an admirer of the human race, and wanted to live an uncomplicated life as much as possible in silence.”
Also true, but after first coaxing me out of the bushes he spent two years teaching me how to read and write both Greek and English.
“He taught me English, and had a lot of books. I read them all. Otherwise, he didn’t say much, and I tried real hard not to bother him.”
He was half-crazy, with dangerous corners in his mind, yet there came a day when he thought of me as a son.
“I can say we were friends, and I felt bad when he died. By then I’d bought his nephew’s bar in Quincy. He’s the one who taught the business to me. I was doin’ pretty good, but when I came back to give Savas a nice funeral it was the first time I’d really seen the town of Crosley. Loved it—sold the place in Quincy—moved here.”
With enough cash and gold to pay for a business and a ranch, and a way out for others burrowing in those cliffs behind us right now.

They rocked in darkness. “And then I met you.”

“Yes you did, and now
your
child is kicking again. Oh, oh, who’s that out here after dark?”

Lights had suddenly appeared at the top of the hill, moving towards them, jiggling up and down as a vehicle bounced in the rutted road. “Sure is in a hurry,” said Pete. “I have a feeling this is the end of our first quiet evening at home. Should’ve known.”

A battered, spring wagon pulled up in front of the house and Jake Price got down, walking over to the porch with Stetson in hand, all cleaned up like he was going to a social. He nodded to Bernie.

“Evenin’, Bernice. Say, didn’t that road give me a scare tonight; be glad when you folks finish it.”

“Cup of coffee, Jake? Got plenty.” Pete started to go inside the house, stopping when the man shook his head no.

“Gotta get back, Pete. I know it’s Sunday and all, but people are really riled up about all the stealin’ and vandalism lately, and a bunch of the boys are meetin’ tonight to see what we can do about it.”

“That’s Tom’s job, Jake. I think we ought to let him do it.”

“He’s only one man, Pete. Besides, he went out of town before church this mornin’ and hasn’t come back yet. We’re not talkin’ mob, Pete, just a discussion about what we can do to help. And everyone wants you to be there.”

“Of course,” said Bernie. “Oh, well, we were going back a little later anyway.” She pushed her chair back, and stood up, stretching her back.

“I don’t think we should meet without Tom there,” said Pete.

“Well, he should be back by now, and he’s sure invited. We’ve got to do it
sometime
, Pete, before people start shootin’ at shadows.”

“Or critters,” said Pete, and instantly regretted it. Jake looked like he’d been slapped. “Sorry, Jake, that was nasty. I just don’t like having my evening messed up.”

“I know what I seen, Pete. We get down to the bottom of the trouble we’ve been havin’ and some eyes are gonna be opened up. Want to follow me back?”

“Only if you’ll forget my stupid remark, and have a cup of coffee with us first.”

Jake smiled, then, and they had their coffee before turning out the lamps and harnessing up two reluctant horses. It was a new moon, stars spattered across the sky in a band, and below tree level was inky blackness. The two wagons bounced and skidded on the rough road, braking together once when two deer dashed across their view, and hitting the road near the edge of town. A small crowd was milling around in front of the hotel, waving to them when they passed by. Pete made a U-turn in the wide street, pulling up by the bar, and scrambling to help Bernie down.

“No meeting for me,” she said. “Don’t see any women there anyway. Sounds like men’s’ business, and I’m not in the mood. See you.” She kissed Pete on the cheek, then climbed the stairs to their apartment, puffing, and talking to herself.

Pete crossed the street to the hotel. The group of men greeted him quietly and politely, Pete shaking hands with some of them. When he got to the porch, Ned Bester, president of the bank, pumped his hand twice before asking, “Mind if we use the hotel? Tom’s still out of town, and nobody else has the town hall key.”

“Sure, come on in. The dining room isn’t finished, yet, but it’s a warm place to sit.”

The men filed in behind Pete through the lobby and down a short hall to a large room with stacked chairs and tables to one side, and the foundation of a stage area to the other. Sawhorses and planks were scattered around the room, and in the center a giant crystal chandelier sparkled in the dim light. Ned looked around, and took Pete by the elbow. “Live music, and everything, huh?”

“That and good Basque cooking. I know a guy in Verdi who’s the best, and he’s agreed to chef for me.”

Ned rubbed his fingers together. “Good business, good business. Might even get ’em over here from Reno.” He smiled at Pete, then moved in front of the group while everyone was finding a place to sit, and clapped his hands.

“Let’s get started, now. Working day tomorrow, and it’s getting late. Thanks to Pete for letting us use this room, and remember this isn’t a formal meeting, so just jump in when you want to. Several of you asked me to call this because of trouble you’ve been havin’. I’m a little reluctant to do it because Tom isn’t here, and I don’t want him to think we’re goin’ behind his back. I think he’s been a good sheriff for us—”

“Nobody’s sayin’ he isn’t, Ned,” said someone.

“Okay, well that’s good to hear. He’s only one man, and there’s a lot of area around here to police. If we’ve got injuns living back in these hills, it’ll take more than Tom to take care of things.”

Pete grinned. “Injuns? I thought they all cleared out a long time ago.”

“Maybe not—maybe so, but whatever, someone around here is doin’ a lot of stealing, particularly livestock, and Darin here lost a rifle and some shells last week.”

“And two pigs!” shouted another man. Now there was an undercurrent of grumbling in the room.

Ed Duchal, tall and redheaded, turned around to face Pete. “Hell, you seen it first hand, the night they stole a chicken right out from under our noses, and I shot one of them.”

“Bunch of bare-footed kids, Ed. We found footprints the next day. A bunch of kids. Before we get all riled up about injuns, we’d better look closer to home. It could be some of our own.”

“Easy for you to say when yours ain’t even born yet,” said Ed, smiling. Pete laughed with him. “We’ve all checked into that, and our kids are accounted for. Besides, that scream we heard that night didn’t even
sound
human to me. Admit it, you didn’t think so either. We just stared at each other after we heard it. Sounded crazy—wild—like some kind of animal.”

“Liquor can make you pretty crazy, Ed. God knows what kids are drinkin’ it these days, but it’s a fact of life, and we’ve got to consider it. Let’s keep this realistic; what we’re probably looking for is some drunken kids on an occasional rampage. They could be from any number of towns around here, pickin’ on us ’cause we’re so isolated. There’s only one main road coming into town; all we have to do is give Tom some help so he can keep an eye on it, and screen out any suspicious folks coming in. If the raids slow down or stop, then we know what’s goin’ on. We might even catch ’em. Anyway, that’s my opinion.” Pete leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs.

Everyone seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then Jake suddenly stood up and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. “Well, that’s just not the way I see it, and I’m the only one here who knows what these critters really look like.”

“Oh, Jake,” said Ned.

“Now don’t give me that ‘oh, Jake’ stuff. Nobody listened to me about the raids on my place until it started to happen to the rest of you. Hell, I’ve had this trouble for nearly a year, and only now is everyone gettin’ excited about it. And I ain’t talkin’ monsters, or anything weird like that. I’ve
seen
these critters, close up, damn near died doin’ it—and they’re
people
. Ugliest things I ever seen, but people all the same. And they ain’t no injuns, ’cause I’ve seen plenty of them, too. These folks had primitive weapons, and worn out animal skins for clothes, long, scraggly hair and beards, heavy features, small eyes, but white folks all the same.”

Ned looked at Jake sternly. “So you’re telling us we’re being harassed by a bunch of white folks.”

“Nobody from town, Ned, and no kids.” Jake’s voice was calm, serious, devoid of the pathetic self-pity they were used to. “Look, you’ve all known me for a long time, and you’ve seen me in my cups. Okay, but you also know I haven’t had a drink in nearly a month, and I’m standing here cold sober telling you what I saw. Tom believed me, that’s why he’s been spendin’ time patrolling the roads, especially in the evenings, ’cause that’s when they move.”

Pete sat calmly in his chair, legs crossed, kicking one foot absently.

“Another reason for Tom to be here,” said Ned. “He went out so early this morning I didn’t get to him about this meeting. I think we really need to hear what he has to say about all this before we take any action. But I think we can agree there’s a problem, and probably a single group of people is behind it. According to Jake, they’re adults maybe gone wild, but he’s the only one who’s seen them, so we don’t really know how many people are involved.”