Dance of the Bones

Up on Baboquivari, I’itoi heard all the quarreling and wondered what all the fuss was about. When he learned what had happened, he was very sad, for you see, nawoj, my friend, although telling stories is good, you must do other things as well.

And that is why, even to this day, among the Tohono O’odham, the time for telling stories is only from the middle of November—-Kehg S--hehpijig Mashath, the Fair Cold Month—-to the middle of March—-Chehthagi Mashath, the Green Month. Those are the cold months, the time when the snakes and lizards go to live underground. That’s why the stories of the Desert -People are winter--telling tales. If a snake or lizard overhears a story, they can swallow the storyteller’s luck and bring him harm.

IT WAS FRIDAY AGAIN, A whole week later. Once again Leo Ortiz drove Lani and Gabe past Rattlesnake Skull charco at the base of Ioligam. Lani had been both surprised and gratified when a chastened Gabe had shown up in her office earlier in the week, asking if it would be possible for a do--over of their campout. Hopeful that the events of the previous weekend might have somehow penetrated some of the boy’s defenses, Lani had agreed on the spot. With both Dan and her slated to work that weekend, it had taken some serious scheduling readjustments to make it work.

So now Lani, Gabe, and a very grumpy Leo were once again lugging their goods up the side of the mountain. “After everything that happened, I don’t understand why you have to come here again,” he grumbled as he dropped his bundle of firewood. “Couldn’t you camp somewhere else?”

“Stories have to end where they begin,” Lani said quietly.

Leo simply sighed and shook his head.

The changes in Gabe were remarkable. This time there was no surliness on his part. He hadn’t played video games on his phone during the drive from Sells, and he handed it over without a murmur of complaint to his father as Leo left. He set about building the fire pit without being told and waited quietly while Lani heated their simple supper.

It was after sunset when they settled down beside the fire. Gabe had been quiet during most of the evening and Lani didn’t want to push him. She knew he had things he wanted to say, and she didn’t want him to rush.

“I guess it’s too late to tell I’itoi stories,” he said. “I saw the snake.”

A rattler, still lethargic from hibernation, had crossed the path ahead of them on their hike up the mountain. Lani nodded. “I saw him, too.”

“Why did you let him go?”

“Why do you think?”

“Because the Tohono O’odham only kill to defend themselves or to eat.”

Lani smiled. “That’s right. The snake wasn’t bothering us, and I had no intention of eating him.”

“I was going to kill Henry Rojas,” Gabe admitted at last. “I had Tim’s knife. If Henry Rojas had opened the box, I would have.”

“I know,” Lani said, “and if you had, you would have been stuck out here for sixteen days. Your parents would have been fit to be tied. So would Mrs. Travers. She wouldn’t like you to miss that much school.”

“Is Mrs. Travers sick?” Gabe asked.

Lani gave him an appraising look before she answered. “She’s my patient, Gabe. I can’t talk about that.”

“If she goes to the Indian hospital, does that mean she’s an Indian?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

Until that moment, Gabe had always believed Mrs. Travers was an Anglo. Gabe nodded. “Okay,” he said.

After that, he was quiet for a time while the wind whispered softly through the manzanita.

“Mrs. José came to see me in the hospital,” Gabe said. “She’s your patient, too. I knew it already, but she told me herself that she’s dying.”

Lani didn’t respond one way or the other.

“My parents said that if that happens, Tim might come live with us. What would you think of that?”

“It might be good for both of you,” Lani said. “Just because Tim’s brothers did bad things doesn’t mean he’s bad. Maybe you could help him.”

“Maybe,” Gabe said. “I hope so.”