Installment 9

Dog and Cat looked concerned.

"What's up?" I asked.

"We aren't sure what the outcome of this is going to be."

"I'll come out of it fine."

"Yes, but we don't know where. The problem is that we don't know if you're coming back."

Their sad faces and droopy tails touched my heart. I gave them both a pat.

"Look. There's something these guys don't know I know. And it's nothing they can take away."

I smiled and got them to look at me with a tuck under their chins.

"First, they don't know I know. Second, they take all this stuff seriously. That's their main mistake."

At this, both Cat and Dog relaxed.

I continued, "Look, you two are my best friends ever, in any dream or world I've seen. I'll be back. I may not know right now what I have to do, but I'll be back. Just keep the barnyard running so you can catch me up when I return, OK?"

Dog wagged his tail and panted with a wide smile. Cat just purred loudly in assent.

- - - -

At morning's light, the three of us found we had been laying out all night on a thick padding of multiple blankets, with several pulled over us. Amazingly, there was no hangover. I was more refreshed than I had been in months. My bruises were gone, along with all my scratches from climbing.

Doreen sat up and looked perfectly radiant, more beautiful than ever. And the morning sun made her hair shine as if she had a halo. Alphonse, on my other side, sleepily rolled over to one elbow and took the sight of both of us in.

There as no other evidence of the party we had experienced last night. Everything was as clean as we had first seen it. Goats browsed just outside the walls, being carefully watched by their herders, presumably so we wouldn't be disturbed.

"Now this is exactly why I love coming here. All the local beer and food you can stand and no side-effects - well, unless you discount that you come away healthier than you've been in years." Al yawned at this and sat up to find his shoes and put them on. "I don't know about you guys, but I've got to use Mother Nature." With that, he stood and found his way out of the old Church ruins.

Turning to Doreen, I found her also tying her boots. She looked at me and smiled, then bent over to give me a light peck before leaving through another exit for the forest.  I found my own boots and shook them out, finding a white stone in each one.

"That keeps the bugs out, and tends to restore the leather." Father George was standing nearby, with the open side-door to the chapel behind him, framing his figure like a portrait. "How did you like your sleep?"

"Never better, Father." Finally tying my boots, I rose and started to fold my blankets. At that, three native women swept in and quickly gathered all the blankets and bedding, then scooted out before I could shut my mouth.

Father George just laughed. "I'll see you out in front of the chapel in a little bit. Your friends are already there."

By the time I got to the chapel front, I found my two friends sitting at a rustic table in the shade, both gorging themselves on a local version of eggs, beans, and pan-fried bread.

"I don't know what's in this stuff, Joe, but I could eat a horse right now." Alphonse cleaned his plate and a smiling native woman quickly filled it with heaping portions.

Doreen politely refused, gesturing to her stomach and smiling back to the native woman in return.

A plate was waiting for me, with aroma that filled my senses with voracious gusto for this simple breakfast.

Finally, we were all sitting and relaxing with mugs of a local coffee laced with goat's milk and a little rum. Life was good.

Father George joined us. "Glad to see you are all enjoying yourself. May I see your amulet, please?"

I fished out the piece from my inner vest pocket and handed it over.

The father looked at it appreciatively. “I thought I hadn't seen this one before. It's just that I haven't seen this one in a very long time. The family who owned this lived very far away, and would only visit every few years."

"Do you mean that you know all the pieces that have been made of this stone and who owns them?"

The father looked me right in my eyes, "Your answer is yes and yes. But technically, no one owns these pieces. They are just on loan, and the responsibility of the family to care for them. That you have come into possession of this particular piece means that the last living relative of this family has passed on. Because they lived so far away, I always considered that a possibility. But now you are here with it. So we can make it your responsibility if you want."

I was honestly floored. Doreen had a strange look on her face, seeming a mixture of disbelief and jealousy. Alphonse was beaming with pride.

Al spoke first, "Father, that is what I was told - to give it to someone who would care for it like their own child. And so I sent it to Joe after the burial. I knew it would bring him here."

"And that it has. But such is the cycle of these." Father was wistful. He turned to me and asked, "Have you seen the statue?"

Doreen suddenly perked up, and Al looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Why yes, I did - just before I met Doreen."

"You never told me about a statue..." Doreen was almost insulted.

"Well, we've been a bit busy these last few days. But if  you wanted to know, that was also what the dream was about."

"Tell me about your dream, please," Father George was sympathetically listening.

So I told the whole story of my dream and my visit to the figure in the canyon. Father George nodded as Al and Doreen were rapt, taking in all the details. "And then I woke up and that's the tale.

Father George was looking at the amulet and passed it back to me. "What you have there is one of the few amulets ever made from the stone of that statue. And one of the largest. Most are pea-sized. The reason is in the construction.

"You noticed when you were at the statue that one side gave life and the other withdrew it. That is the way of life. Yes, you have both stones in that piece, which is exactly what keeps it in one piece. You won't see any of the black stones in the chapel. And this is why this place is known for miracles, although it's not thought of in that way by those who live around here.

"The black stones tend to disrupt. And so the only metals which will hold it are those which are pure. If they are alloyed, the impure parts will corrode away and the black stone will fall from its setting. Both the white and black stones are sought after, although most have been buried for a very long time, or swept out to the river by the canyon floods you experienced.

"Legends hold that the white stones grant the bearer good health, even immortality. But since we have a graveyard and I have presided over many funerals, I can tell you that this is not completely true. We are spared many diseases in our local village, and many people have been relieved of illnesses for the time they have stayed with us. Some even wrote back to tell us it was a permanent cure. Others relapsed and died soon after returning to their own world.

"That gold and platinum wire was made locally, but the techniques and sources for these metals has disappeared along with the craftsmen who worked them, many, many years back - centuries by now. Some held that these metals were called out of the ground by powerful witch-doctors and then trapped to keep them from returning to their mineral home. And only the combination of these stones keeps them above ground. If these stones are ever separated, the bindings will disappear as well. And then, as is said, one must pray for the souls of those present."

Father George was then silent. And we all waited, respectfully, for him to continue.

Finally, he looked up, smiling again. "But come, we have been talking of too-serious things while life is a pleasant and abundant crop worth cultivating. Let me show you our village and let my friends meet each other. They will all be happy to see the new holder of that amulet.

We walked down a narrow, winding road to where the flood plains of the river flattened out. We could see the patchwork-quilt aspect as we came down the hill. Both sides rising steeply away from the plain, while the river meandered back and forth.

"One skill we did learn from the Spanish, among others, was how to dam and control the river to irrigate crops. We already had maize and wheat and beans from ancient times, but their techniques allowed us to raise them more regularly. Some of the priests were able to read the old carvings and told us of knowledge of the calendar we had forgotten. Since they also taught many of us to write, we now have books and schools to teach our young so it is never lost again. Our calendar tells us of the flood times and the drought times, so we can prepare."

By then we had moved into the village proper, which were actually small stone huts built into the walls above the flood levels of the river. We could also see granaries among the houses, much as the old Hopi and ancient Amerindian villages contained. It was here we stopped for a brief lunch of fruits and bread.

"Because of these steep walls, we have been safe for thousands of years. The Spanish were our only visitors who attempted to 'colonize' us. And my job is one of the few remaining vestiges of that time. Some of the oldest here still can speak the Spanish tongue, but the bulk of us would rather use our own 'foolish' dialect, as it has more meaning and is easier on the palate." The father smiled at his small joke. We started walking again, finding the way remarkably easy, especially with (or due to) the breakfast we had eaten.

"Oh, I have a surprise for you - come this way." We walked on a narrow path which followed the river's meandering path. Because of the floods and steep valley walls, only the most easily replaced bridges crossed the river. Most of these were secured with heavy ropes to thick, old trees. When the floods came, they were able to simply drag the bridge back into place instead of rebuilding. Most of the river's channel was set in mortised stone, slanted to mimic the flow of the river and allow the flood to take away silt instead of building it up.

We passed farmers who were cultivating by hand or with oxen. They greeted the father and us as we passed and then returned to work. Occasionally, we saw where deposited silt was being "mined" and hauled out to be either placed in another washed out area, or hauled further upstream. "They will mix manure and compost with the silt to restore it's life and then use it to re-build the soil where it is weak," the father explained.

Finally, we entered an area which had only a clean sandstone floor. It sat at right angles to the main valley floor, and had a number of stone abutments built to deal with a large flow of water. "Recognize this? No, you didn't get this far. But this is how you get into that canyon you visited a few days ago from our end."

As we traveled up the canyon, it twisted and turned, such that any sense of direction was lost. The father would point out natural features as we made our way, along with various stories each held.

Finally, as the canyon widened out, we rounded a bend and saw the figure. It was just as I had seen it before, and in my dreams. Doreen and Al stood still, almost transfixed. It was everything the father had said.

"We can't stay long, unfortunately." The father was looking at the clouds and the sun on the canyon walls. "One hour at best - and then we will need to be on our way quickly. But meanwhile, look all you want. As you pointed out, I wouldn't get to close to either side unless you never want to leave again."

For the next few minutes, we carried out various experiments, such as timing how fast leather could be dried out and restored. The oddity is that we could take dead leaves and dried flowers and usually bring them back to a vibrant and green state. However, as the father had pointed out, once they left the white side, they quickly returned to their natural state.

Both Al and Doreen did my own experiment of standing on either and both sides of the black and white statue at the same time. We ensured they had a sturdy rope around them so we could quickly pull them to safety.

Finally, the father told us we just had enough time to make it out if we hurried. So we left, making much faster time down hill back to the entrance. Father George had us climb a narrow set of steep stairs and wait. Shortly, a loud roar commenced and rose to such a volume that we could not make ourselves heard. Almost when it got to a deafening point, a cascade of water struck the stone wall we stood on, hitting with a tangible shaking as the flood rose nearly to the foot of where we were standing.

And in minutes it was all over. Only shallow pools were left, quickly evaporating in the sun.

"This is why we do not farm below this canyon. In fact, we don't do anything at all below this. From above, we've seen that there are tremendous water falls after this point, and rock floors which can turn into tortuous rapids within minutes. Again, this is why these foolish people have never been conquered. There is no way in or out except the ways we came.

"It's time to go back. This way, please."

Each of us were deep in our own thoughts on the return trip. Finally, laboring with the exertions of climbing back to the chapel, we all sat to rest and regain our breath while we rested weary legs.

Father George, much less fatigued than the rest, was up and about shortly. "You can all rest here tonight again. No fiesta tonight, though." He smiled broadly at this. "However, you'll find a very substantial evening meal just as good as any."

He turned just as he left to enter his chapel side-door again. "And I'll be seeing you each as you want to listen and advise." With that, he was gone.

We spent the rest of the day resting and exploring the pueblo ruins. Doreen found out that we were in some sort of dead-zone where most electronic communication devices wouldn't work. While this didn't affect mechanical watches, certain areas would cause digital clocks to lose or gain time. Sun dials seemed to work the best. Magnetism was another variable. There was no real way to tell what direction your compass was telling you, as it would point erratically and sometimes just spin. Yet magnets could tell of no deposits locally.

Each of us had our talk with the father at various points in the afternoon. And all seemed relieved when they returned.

Mine was about my dreams. And I probed him for what he knew, but only got scriptures in return. Father George seemed to find each question amusing, and often suggested that I already knew the answer. But he was patient enough to explain his parables in ways I could understand.

As I stood to rejoin my friends, he took my sleeve just before I left through the door. "Doreen is troubled and may have a solution you need to help her find. I can't tell you more than this - but I can say that you and she are gifts to each other in ways you don't suspect." The father smiled again at that point, all seriousness vanished.