Goddess Girl Prophecy Page 11

  Then, I remembered one of the New York men in black asked Mom and Dad if they were ready to die for it. I didn’t understand what the man had meant.

  I did now. My parents did die for it. I was certain of that and also certain that they knew exactly what it was. If only I did too. I looked out the window and only allowed one tear to fall before I wiped it away. I knew if I dwelled on it any longer, I would be gushing and sobbing.

  I thought of confronting both MawMaw and Uncle Jun with everything I knew. But what if I was wrong and they were actually clueless? MawMaw was already missing a few screws. Magic bones could potentially send her off the deep end. Keeping my suspicions to myself would be best, at least for now. There were too many puzzle pieces left to fill in.

  Besides, when I did start asking questions, I wanted to be able to look them in the eyes, see their faces and reactions, not the backs of their heads. Of course, I realized the irony in that I was hiding something from them too. The skull.

  Ms. Savage said it was Nuutsiu. I committed myself again to return the skull to the tribe. If the skull was Nuutsiu, then certainly the piece in MawMaw’s bed was too. A plan to take both bones to the elders solidified in my mind just as Uncle Jun pulled into the driveway.

  MawMaw got out right away. The car barely came to a stop. She made a beeline for the house trying to run despite using her cane. She almost tripped twice.

  “MawMaw,” I said. “Slow down before you break your neck.”

  She nodded politely at the deputy before flinging the door open. When we got inside, the ceiling looked as though it had a fresh case of the chicken pox, but with white spots rather than red.

  “Hey, MawMaw.” Kanaan gave her a hug. “Welcome home.”

  Honaw smiled at her. “How are you feeling?”

  “So much better now that I’m in my own space,” she said. “Dorothy was absolutely correct. There really is no place like home.” She hung her coat on a hook by the door and glanced at the ceiling.

  “We have to let the putty dry,” Honaw explained. “Then, we’ll be back to paint it. The roofers will be here this afternoon to patch the exit holes in the roof.”

  MawMaw kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you both so much. I expected to come home to a mess.”

  “Wray wouldn’t let that happen,” Kanaan said.

  MawMaw turned to stand right in front of me. Gently, she pressed her hand to my cheek. It felt like she was apologizing and like she wanted to say something profound. “Thank you, darling Wray.” She smiled holding back whatever else she was going to say. “Will you put the kettle on while I go to my room?” She pulled at her pants. “The pants you brought aren’t my favorite.”

  That was a lie. She wore them all the time. That’s why I chose that particular pair.

  She hobbled upstairs, trying to go slow, so as to look normal. I felt her nervousness though and suspected that she was going to check on the object in the bedpost. But I wanted to confirm that. I needed to know if she really knew it was there.

  I put the kettle under a slow stream of water in the sink. “I’m going to give Ella some sugar,” I said. I took a few cubes from the jar, ignoring Uncle Jun’s scowl, and went out the back door. I hurried to the barn and lured Ella to a section of the corral where I could see directly into MawMaw’s bedroom window.

  Her bed clearly visible, I watched her sit on the edge of it next to the post with the secret compartment. With one hand on her chest and her head lowered, her lips moved. It looked like she was praying. She raised her head and wiped at her eyes.

  The only time I’d ever seen MawMaw cry before was at my parents’ funeral. MawMaw had their bodies cremated in New York. When we received the urns from the crematorium, we brought them home to Colorado. MawMaw was adamant that they would rest in peace in our burial grounds.

  We kept our sacred grounds secret for a couple of reasons. One, the US government didn’t like it when we buried our dead there, and two, curiosity seekers may want to take what wasn’t theirs.

  For the traditional Ute funeral, we had smeared charcoal ash over our faces and on all the exposed skin on our legs and arms. When the tom-tom had begun, MawMaw’s loud wail and tears of grief caught me off guard. I’d never heard such a sound and never expected such a thing from her.

  My parents’ ashes were on the ground in front of me, and I was scared to death that my grandmother had completely lost her sanity. When Uncle Jun wailed, too, that fear eased some, but I was still shocked. I’d never seen him cry before either.

  I’ve since learned that dramatic displays of grief are customary at Ute funerals—the greater the loss, the greater the wail. I couldn’t cry at the funeral. I wanted to—just couldn’t.

  MawMaw and I had opened the urns and sprinkled my parents’ ashes into a deep hole carved into the red earth. Then the hole was refilled with handfuls of dirt from each tribe member in attendance. Allohak, one of the Ute elders, presented me with an intricate dreamcatcher made with feathers from my father’s tribal regalia. Once the funeral was over, the other mourners left.

  Then as Uncle Jun, MawMaw, and I backed out of my parents’ final resting place, we had used evergreen branches to brush away all traces of footprints from the site.

  Ella nudged my hand for another sugar cube. I gave it to her and watched MawMaw, sitting on the bed with the secret compartment.

  Chapter 11

  MawMaw wiped the tears from her eyes and turned slightly toward the hollow bedpost.

  Sure enough, she lifted the sleeve. She didn’t take the pouch out, though, just rested one of her hands on the bag, the other hand on her chest, closed her eyes, and moved her lips in apparent prayer again. Quietly, she closed the sleeve, rose from the bed, and using her cane, went into her attached bathroom.

  That’s when I, hands shaking, ran back to the house.

  Someone put the kettle on the stove and turned on the heat. I looked at the men sitting at the table. They all drank coffee while Honaw and Uncle Jun debated which kind of paint—satin or semigloss—would be best for the ceiling.

  Kanaan winked at me. I motioned to the kettle, and he pointed at himself to indicate that he was the one who put it there. Thanks, I mouthed. He dipped his head once in a deep nod and smiled.

  I went to the cabinet and got a couple of the mugs that survived the ransacking. I prepped one with MawMaw’s juniper tea and the other with blueberry for me. Then, I turned around to watch the men again.

  All three were purebred Ute. Well, as pure as any ethnic group could be at that point in Earth’s history. You could tell because their skin was so dark. The Utes, because of their dark skin, had been nicknamed the Africans of the Americas by European settlers. Compared to their beautiful color, I looked like an albino with no pigment at all.

  The kettle whistled. I turned off the stove and poured hot water into the cups. To mine, I added a squeeze of lemon and a tiny splash of milk. MawMaw must have heard the kettle, because she came down the stairs on cue. I noticed she had on the same pants I’d taken to the hospital, but the men didn’t.

  Uncle Jun got up to give her the chair that was closest to her. “You look tired, MawMaw.”

  “I am, Junius. It has been a long life,” she answered with a squeeze of his arm. Uncle Jun smiled, and I assumed that the exchange was a signal that all was well.

  She sat. “That slab of concrete they call a bed at the hospital didn’t suit these old bones very well.”

  I put her tea in front of her. “It seemed like you wanted to tell me something when we got home. What was it?” I tried to keep the tone of anger, disappointment, and confusion out of my voice. I guess I failed because she looked at me pointedly. After a moment or two, she just sighed.

  “It was nothing, Wray. But thank you for making my tea.”

  The one human being I trusted the most, the one woman who was honest to a fault, had lied to me. It hurt deeply that she kept such a profound secret from me. I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did. Regardless, I
still loved her. I would always love her, I supposed. But trusting her again was another matter.

  Uncle Jun downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp and put his cup in the dishwasher. “I’ve got to go.” He kissed MawMaw on her healthy cheek. “I’ve got to get the horses ready for Founders Day.”

  MawMaw scoffed. “Yes. Let’s celebrate Euro explorers who supposedly found what has always been here.”

  It was the same argument she gave every year. Every year, though, she still participated in the parade and other activities around town. MawMaw just called it Town Day, which seemed far more accurate since the day was to celebrate the 1871 founding of the town called Manitou Springs.

  “Call me if you need anything.” Uncle Jun grinned at her. He gave Kanaan and Honaw a nod. “Boys.” On his way out, he even gave me a hug.

  Honaw stood as well. “Yeah, we need to get our extras ready for the parade too.”

  Kanaan knit his brows together in question at his brother.

  “The elders are coming from all the reservations,” Honaw continued.

  MawMaw stopped mid-sip of her tea. “Why?”

  It was unusual. Typically, it was just local Ute who participated in Founders Day.

  “I invited them”—Honaw pushed the chair in—“to powwow where the Great Spirit breathes through the earth.”

  MawMaw, suddenly very serious, stood. “Well, then we better get ready to receive the elders.” She tried to take a step but teetered a bit.

  “You need to sit.” I caught her mid-wobble.

  She latched on to my right arm, the one that should have had a wound on it. She tilted her head slightly and smiled at my arm, the telltale signs that woo-woo MawMaw was coming. I helped her to her easy chair in the living room and went back to the kitchen to get her tea. I set the mug on the side table next to the chair and lowered myself to the ottoman in front of her.

  “What was it, MawMaw? What did you want to tell me?” My tone was softer and quieter, trying to get her to open up.

  Her eyes misted over and PhD MawMaw was completely gone. She turned my hands palms up to trace the triangles with her thumbs. “The truth is, Wray, that there are thousands of things I want to tell you,” she said. “All in good time, Wray, all in good time.” With her head, she gestured at her knitting bag. I removed my hands from hers and reached down for it. She dug out her project and instead of getting to work, she stared into my eyes and smiled.

  “Are you okay, MawMaw?” I swallowed, scared in so many different ways.

  “Of course.” She grinned and began stitching—intently, silently, perfectly.

  I rose and shuffled back into the kitchen just in time to catch a glimpse of Honaw going out the back door.

  Kanaan still sat in his chair. “The real question is, are you okay, Wray?”

  I shook my head no. “I’m hoping this is all one incredible nightmare, and I’m going to wake up at any moment now.” That’s the way I had felt since seeing my parents die right in front of me. I rubbed my temples, wanting the bloody images to go away.

  He took his mug to the dishwasher. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll sit with MawMaw for a while,” he offered.

  “I thought you were going to get the horses ready.”

  He shook his head. “Honaw can do that. Someone needs to be here when the roofers arrive.”

  I poked my cheek, my side, and my arm. “Oh look, I’m someone.”

  Kanaan smiled. “I meant a man.”

  I rolled my eyes at his chauvinism. “What do you know about roofs?”

  He shrugged. “Next to nothing, but men take other men more serious.”

  “That’s because you’re all sexists.” I sipped my tea. It cooled too much. I liked my tea like I liked my showers—super hot.

  Kanaan nodded slowly. “Probably, but I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

  “I’m safe.” I put my mug into the microwave for ten seconds.

  Kanaan shook his head no. “You’ll be safer once that thing is where it belongs,” he said quietly.

  “It belongs back where I found it, buried in the dirt.” I tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “I think I will go take a nap.” The microwave beeped. I took the steaming cup of tea with me to my room. I sat up in bed with my hands wrapped around the hot cup and sipped for a few moments. I drank half the cup and set it aside when my eyelids got extremely heavy.

  Outside my window, someone raised an extension ladder. The click-click noise of the locking brace sliding past the rungs—followed by hammering on the roof—ended the best sleep I had in a long while.

  When I shuffled back downstairs to the kitchen, Kanaan was expertly chopping vegetables. He even had his fingers curled back from the knife like a pro chef. His biceps pushed at the sleeves of his T-shirt. Was it possible that his arms were thicker than the day before? Seemed growing like a weed was true for boys at certain stages of life.

  “I’m impressed.” I poured the leftover cold tea down the sink.

  He looked at me and smiled. “What? Aren’t boys allowed in the kitchen in your world?”

  “Touché.” I put the mug in the dishwasher.

  “Does MawMaw have a wok?” Kanaan asked.

  I rummaged in the pantry and produced an old one. The two of us prepped the rest of the stir-fry ingredients. I was surprised how well we worked together. We laughed and joked around, totally taking my mind off everything else. It was nice.

  “Excuse me.” Kanaan reached into the bottom cupboard I was standing beside.

  Since every single platter was shattered by the men in black, he pulled out a metal cake pan to use as a serving dish. When Kanaan straightened, he brushed my rear end with his forearm.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. I didn’t doubt it was an accident—his eyes showed his embarrassment. If he had lighter skin, I bet I would’ve seen him blush. It was the slight upturn of his lips, though, that made me doubt that he was sorry about it.

  MawMaw cleared her throat. We both turned to see PhD MawMaw pulling out a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Hey.” I smiled at her, which she didn’t return.

  In fact, as she lowered herself to the seat, she frowned at me and narrowed her eyes at Kanaan. “Just consider me your chaperone.”

  Contrite, Kanaan turned back to the stove and focused his eyes to his work. With tongs, he put the noodles I parboiled into the wok. Thirty seconds later, the meal was ready. Kanaan scooped it all into the cake pan.

  Since all of MawMaw’s dinnerware had been broken during the home invasion as well, I grabbed three of the melamine dinner plates we used for cookouts. Uncle Jun had promised to look for, and replace, as much of MawMaw’s vintage-patterned stoneware as possible. Until then, we’d make do.

  Dinner was another silent meal. Typically talkative with Kanaan, MawMaw didn’t respond to any attempt at conversation from him, or me, for that matter. After we ate, the three of us cleaned up.

  When the last dish was in the washer and the counters wiped down, MawMaw kissed Kanaan on both cheeks. “Thank you for cooking.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Kanaan smiled at me over MawMaw’s shoulder.

  “It was delicious. But now it is time for you to go home, young man.”

  Kanaan looked like he’d been slapped by the Tooth Fairy. “But those men might come back,” he protested.

  MawMaw shook her head and laughed. “Why would they come back?”

  His eyes darted back to me.

  “They might, MawMaw.” I wasn’t very convincing. I didn’t think they’d be back either.

  MawMaw turned around to look at me. Good, because I wanted to see her reaction to what I said next. “We don’t know what they wanted, or if they found it.”

  “Those men wrecked the house pretty good.” MawMaw nodded smugly. “If what they wanted was here, they certainly took it.”

  She knew they didn’t find it. She wasn’t any better a liar than I was.

  “
If they didn’t find what they wanted, then they know it isn’t here and have no reason to come back,” she continued with the very argument I made. She hobbled closer to me and cupped my face in her soft but worn hands. “I would never willingly risk your life.”

  If the men in black wanted what was in that bedpost, of course she had risked my life. Then again, if they came for the skull, it was me who was at fault. The truth was that I felt responsible no matter which bone the gunmen were after. Though I had absolutely no proof or knew how the bones were linked to me, I felt somewhere deep in my gut that they were, and that I was to blame.

  If only I could go back in time. I’d so rebury that skull in the Garden and forget all about it. And instead of hiding in New York, I’d fight to save my parents—or die with them.

  Oddly enough, through her hand on my cheek, I felt MawMaw’s good intentions from her core to mine. I hoped that she felt the same from me. I raised my attention from the floor back to MawMaw’s face. We were sort of in the same boat, hiding a secret object. Her lacy eyes smiled at me just before she turned back around.

  Facing Kanaan, MawMaw linked her arm around his and led him to the brand-new back door, which she opened. “I assure you that we are perfectly safe.”

  On cue, the officer outside nodded.

  “See. We even have a police guard.” She smiled at Kanaan. “And you must learn not to overstay your welcome.”

  With a shoulder, she nudged — almost pushed — Kanaan out the door.

  “MawMaw.” My jaw slacked. She was never rude to her guests, no matter how impolite they were.

  To his credit, Kanaan didn’t push back or use his strength to stop her. He simply took the step down to the patio.

  “And you.” She pointed at me. “Don’t you have homework to complete?”

  Still aghast and apologizing to Kanaan with my eyes, I nodded slowly.

  Even with him a step lower outside, MawMaw had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Kanaan’s cheek one last time. “Wray will see you in school tomorrow. Goodnight.” She closed the door on his stunned face.