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Authors: Aimee & David Thurlo

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BOOK: Plant Them Deep
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“Only in general terms. He hated seeing outside companies
working here on our land. It saddened him to see new television or phone company cell towers right in the middle of our wilderness areas.”
“I feel the same,” Rose said quietly.
As Sara hurried off, Rose finally went inside Lena’s room. She looked thinner and paler, but Lena’s eyes sparkled with alertness today. Sara’s visit had already done some good.
“The hand trembler came. Did you see her?”
Lena asked.
Rose nodded. “I waited outside. You look better already.”
“I miss my home and my life,” Lena said. “But my friends come to visit, and that helps.”
Lena began coughing, then, worn out, lay still again. Rose swallowed back her fear. “You keep fighting this thing, I need you around. It gets lonely without my best friend to talk to at night after the day is done.”
“You’ll still have
company. Your family is always there. I’ve always envied you for that. With my son so far away …”
Rose patted her hand. “Your daughter and granddaughter are always here. Think about them.”
Rose knew that Lena had always favored her son and it broke her heart daily to know he’d chosen to leave the
Dinetah.
She looked down at their hands, aware of how old they seemed. Did people really age naturally,
or was it the weight of too many shattered dreams that wore them down and ultimately broke them?
Rose stayed with Lena until she fell asleep. Later, as she walked to her truck, Rose thought of her daughter and granddaughter, and how much she loved both of them. Tonight, she’d spend time with them—time devoted only to family.
Rose spent the following afternoon alone, driving and hiking around
to new locations, trying to find some of the herbs and plants that had all but disappeared from the area. After a long, exhausting, fruitless day, she finally headed home.
As she drove slowly up the gravel road leading to her house, it was so quiet all she could hear was a dog barking in the distance. Suddenly realizing that the only dog in the immediate area was Two, she pressed down harder
on the accelerator.
She was almost home when she spotted a figure running away from the house toward the arroyo beyond the horse corral, Two at his heels. Dawn’s pony, Wind, was running around in circles, whinnying and kicking up dust.
Fear swept through Rose in waves, but she managed to keep
her wits. Pulling to a stop quickly, she ran toward the house, knowing she had to call Ella immediately.
As she reached the front porch, she heard the sound of an engine roaring away, and spotted a cloud of dust from just over the hill beyond the arroyo.
With her heart pounding at her throat, she stepped inside the front door. It was unlocked now, though she knew she’d locked it when she left earlier. As she stepped inside and looked around, nothing in the living room was disturbed, but the broom
was lying there on the rug. As she walked into the kitchen, she saw that the intruder had kicked the locked back door open, and that was probably when he’d run into Two, who’d been inside. This morning, knowing how long she’d be gone today, she’d left a kitchen window open just far enough so Two could get inside by climbing onto the woodpile, then through the window. A chair was positioned just
right so he could climb back out again.
When she discovered a large, raw beefsteak on the floor, she knew what had happened. The intruder had hoped to bribe the dog, throwing the meat through the window, but shredded strips of a nylon jacket on the kitchen floor told her it hadn’t worked. Two had waited for the person to come inside, then done his job anyway.
Turning around, she looked back
at her broom on the living room floor. There was a tuft of Two’s hair in the bristles. The intruder had used the broom to fend off Two long enough to get into the living room and close the door to the kitchen, then had the rest of the house to himself or herself. But the minute the intruder had left the house through the front, Two had given chase by climbing back out the kitchen window.
As Rose
picked up the phone and dialed Ella, she realized that the camera that had been sitting on top of the corner desk was gone, and so were the handful of photos she’d kept there. She told her daughter what she’d discovered.
“Mom, don’t touch anything. I’m on the way.”
“I’m going outside to search for Two.”
“No, don’t. Wait until I get there. I’ll be home shortly.”
“He’s my dog and I’m going
to look for him. I’ll probably be outside when you get here.” Before her daughter could argue, Rose hung up, then hurried out the back door. At least the pony had settled down again from the excitement.
She whistled for Two, then walked through the corral in the direction of the arroyo and tried again. Ten seconds later she saw the dog coming back, head up and tail wagging, obviously proud of
himself.
Rose laughed and crouched down to pet him. “You did just fine, Two. Thank you for protecting the house. Let’s go get you a treat. You certainly deserve one.”
Rose went inside with him, threw the steak into the garbage in case it was contaminated with something meant to harm the dog, then found a large soup bone in the refrigerator.
“Here you go,” she said, placing it on his rug in
the kitchen. “Enjoy.”
As she washed her hands, Rose heard the wail of a siren.
Her daughter was on her way home.
Rose waited as Justine and Ella dusted the back door and the broomstick for prints.
“Mom, which photos are missing? Are they ones to a particular location?”
“No, not at all. They were photos that I included in my survey report, so now they’re a matter of record.” She paused,
then added, “Well, except for the roll I hadn’t quite finished that was still in the camera.”
“Who do you think would have wanted the photos badly enough to break in?”
“A lot of people have a stake in what I find or don’t find. You already have a list.”
“Those people all had alibis for the time of the last break-in, Mom. Can you think of anyone new?”
“I’ll give it some thought, but offhand,
no.”
As Justine began to take prints around the desk, Officer Ralph Tache, the third person on the Special Investigations Unit, came in. Ella snapped at him for being slow to respond.
Ella then focused on Justine, directing her in the tone of a Marine drill instructor, if not the language.
Justine and Tache exchanged a quick look, but neither said anything.
Rose knew exactly what was going
on. Whenever her daughter acted like this, it was simply because she was scared. Having an intruder here twice constituted an open and recurring threat to Ella’s family, and something like that would shake Ella to the core. The more frightened Ella was, the more aggressive and demanding she became.
Just then Dawn and Jennifer came in. Jennifer gasped, but Dawn glanced around calmly, then looked
up at Jennifer. “It’s okay. It’s just messy. Did we get a burglar?” Dawn asked Ella.
Ella, who’d been all set to comfort her daughter, looked at Dawn in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s like TV,” Dawn said, and shrugged, looking over at Justine and Tache, who, like Ella, had pistols at their hips and were checking for physical evidence. “Can I go to my room?”
“Sure,” Ella said.
Rose watched the little girl leave. “You’re not as alike as I thought, daughter. At her age you would have stayed and been in the middle of everything, asking questions and trying to figure it all out.”
Ella looked down the hall at her daughter, who was in her bedroom, and smiled. “She’s checking her favorite toys. It’s not lack of curiosity. She’s prioritizing.”
Justine burst out laughing. “Oh,
I think you’ve got a future
cop in the making there, but one who’s destined for administration.”
Ella grimaced. “A desk jockey? Ugh!”
Justine and Tache finished their tasks shortly after dark, then left in their vehicles. Ella announced she was returning to the station and, reminding Rose to lock the doors even when she was at home, left.
Five minutes later, Rose heard a vehicle, and went to
the curtained window for a look. The moon was out, and it was bright enough for her to see that it was her son Clifford’s truck. She unlocked the front door and waved for him to come in.
Rose poured him some herbal tea, then they both sat down at the table. “What brings you here, son?”
“I need a few special plants for the ritual I have to perform for your friend, but there’s one I haven’t been
able to find,” he answered.
“If I don’t have the plant you want in my garden, I’ll ask the other Plant Watchers. Either way I can make sure you get whatever you need.”
“I’m searching for ‘white at night,’ what the Anglo world calls white-stemmed evening primrose. I’ve asked some of the other
hataaliis
, even that new traditionalist medicine man that annoys you so much, but none of them have any
to share or sell, and don’t remember seeing it at any of their regular collection sites either.”
“I don’t have that particular plant in my garden. It doesn’t do well at lower altitudes, but I’ll check my notes. I didn’t include it in the initial report I turned in, but since it is one of the endangered Plant People, it will be part of the finished survey. Give me a moment to check my notes. I’m
sure I’ve got something in there about it.” Rose went to her desk and suddenly realized that along with her camera and photos, the small notebook she’d been using was now gone.
T
he next morning
Bizaadii
came over. He’d heard what had happened from his nephews, who were police officers. “I’ve got a very solid door in the back of my truck. Once I’m finished, not even Arnold Schwarzenegger will be able to break into this kitchen.”
Rose tried to assure him that it wasn’t necessary and that she’d hire someone, but Herman wouldn’t take no for an answer, or
even payment for the materials he’d already purchased. Rose fixed him a hearty breakfast in exchange and Herman ate a Navajo taco—which combined pinto beans, chile sauce, fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese, all over a large fluffy piece of warm fry bread. After washing it down with a mug of coffee, he began to work.
An hour later he had the solid-core door installed and a brand-new lock on it.
He showed her his handiwork proudly, gave her the keys to the deadbolt, then began packing up. “You were lucky that the doorframe wasn’t damaged. But I’ve got to be going now. My nephews are taking a few days of vacation off and we’re all meeting up at my cabin so we can fix the place up.”
“I’m glad that you’re getting a chance to spend time with them.”
“So am I. Neither my son in California
nor my police officer
nephews ever ask for my help these days,” Herman said candidly. “And, to be honest, I’ve missed that.”
“My daughter is the same way. She never asks for anything unless it concerns my granddaughter. And even those instances are rare. Though we live under the same roof, my daughter’s life is very separate from mine.”
“Children grow up and redefine themselves. That’s the way
it should be. But I’m going to enjoy this time with the boys.”
After saying good-bye to Herman, Rose went through the house and made sure everything was locked up except for the small gap in the kitchen window. Two was still working on his bone in the kitchen, but if anyone tried to come in, their arms or legs would be next on his menu. Giving the sturdy dog a pat on the head, she went out to
her truck. Soon she was on her way to the tribal offices to get a copy of her own plant survey report.
She’d been unable to find the computer floppy disk with the copy Willie had made for her after printing it out, and he’d erased the file on his computer voluntarily that same day, insisting she should maintain control of all the material herself. Rose believed that whoever took the camera and
photos must have taken the disk as well, because she’d left it all on the desk.
As she drove into Shiprock, she tried to recall what she’d written about ‘white at night’ in her notes, but she just couldn’t remember. Maybe something in the report she’d turned in would jog her memory.
An hour later, Rose left the tribal offices with a copy of her report in hand. Unfortunately, this preliminary
survey only verified the absence of ‘white at night’ on sites that had been surveyed. But there was one collection site that was so remote few knew about it. There were several small sand dunes along the south end of the Chaco River, an intermittent stream, that often supported some of these plants. It was possible that site could provide her son with what he needed.
Rose arrived forty minutes
later. Even in this extremely dry, barren stretch of desert beyond the southern end of the Hogback, she could see evidence of the trenching tool around the perimeter of the low dunes. As many plants had been left to die as were taken, based upon the holes, which had obviously been hastily dug.
She searched long and hard, walking along the dried-up streambed and investigating every old sandbar
that she could find, but two hours later, she returned to her truck empty-handed. Trying not to let her own frustration undermine her, she focused on what she could do next. She’d go home and contact every one of the Plant Watchers, if she had to. One of them was bound to be able to help. Together, their gardens contained a huge array of plants that could be made instantly available to Lena. Clifford
only needed to locate one plant, but it might turn out to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, unless someone could help Rose out.
When she arrived home, the phone was ringing. She hurried to answer it.
“It’s Carolyn,” the familiar voice said. “I ran the fingerprints I collected from the body of your deceased friend through FBI and military databases and I’ve got some unexpected news.
The fingerprints I took from the man you knew don’t match those in Charlie Dodge’s military records.”
“If those in the military are correct, then
who
was my friend?”
“All I can tell you for sure is that he’s not the man who joined the Code Talkers and served in the military during World War II.”
“But my friend
did
serve during the war. The few stories he told me were too vivid to have been
made up. And I’m sure I can find others who’ve known him since the war who can verify that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. All I’m sure about is that your friend was Navajo, had a driver’s license and other records that say he was Charlie Dodge, but he wasn’t the Charlie Dodge the military fingerprinted in 1943.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I did get something faxed to me which I
thought you might want to have. It’s the service record for the Charlie Dodge the military knew. It includes a photo, so I thought you might want to see that.”
“Does the photo belong to the man I knew?” Rose asked, still trying to make sense of things.
“Maybe, but it was taken so long ago, I’m just not sure. It’s a portrait shot of a young Navajo man,” she said. “But I have no way of knowing
what your friend looked like in the fifties or sixties, since I never knew him. The photo might be more help to you.” Carolyn paused for a moment. “I’ll leave a copy of the file at the main reception desk in the hospital lobby. You can sign it out whenever it’s convenient.”
“Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
After Rose hung up, she sat down and tried to sort things out in her
mind. How could one Navajo have taken the identity and place of another without anyone finding out? Perhaps this was the reason the man she’d known as Charlie Dodge had always lived such an isolated life. But even so, someone must have known what happened. And now she wondered who the man in the Marine uniform had been. Charlie had to have known about him. She was sure that had been why he’d had them
dig in that spot.
Her next call was to Willie. “I need to find ‘white at night.’ It’s extremely important. I’ve been to the places where I’ve seen it grow, but there are no plants there now. I’ve heard my son call it by a name that is undoubtedly familiar to you, white-stemmed evening primrose. Can you help me find it? I need it for a healing ritual a friend of mine needs to have.”
“I know
the plant. I used to see it along the edge of roads, growing beside white-flowered wild mustard.”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Does it have to come from Navajo Nation land?” Willie asked.
“No, but it must come from somewhere between the sacred mountains to be effective,” Rose replied.
“Let’s go search for it together. We can cover twice as much ground if we work as a team,” he said. “Why don’t
you meet me here at my home in, say, an hour and a half? That’ll give me enough time to do some research.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
Rose called Jane Jim and then Clara Henderson, and although neither had the plant in their gardens, they each divulged a collection site they’d used successfully in the past for “white at night.”
Excited by the promise the new leads held, Rose hurried to
her pickup truck. She’d stop by the hospital first since it was on her way, pick up the photo that Carolyn had left for her at the desk, visit Lena for a short while, then go meet Willie. Today, things would begin to get better for Lena, she was certain of it.
By the time Rose arrived at the hospital she couldn’t wait to see the photo. Even if it dated back to a lifetime ago, she was hopeful
she’d be able to identify the man.
Rose picked up the envelope and, on the way to Lena’s room, opened it up and looked at the papers. The young man in the 1942 black-and-white photo certainly resembled Charlie, but she just couldn’t be certain beyond any doubt that it was him. Disappointment and frustration twisted her insides, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She’d
find the answers she needed, no matter how long it took her.
When she reached Lena’s room, her friend was lying on
her back, her eyes shut and her body still. For a moment Rose froze in the doorway fearing the worst, but then she saw Lena draw in a breath. Rose walked quietly to the chair placed by the bed and sat down. If Lena was asleep, she wouldn’t wake her up. She’d just sit with her for
a while.
A moment later, Lena opened her eyes and looked over at her. “I knew it was you,” she said softly. “I recognized your footsteps.”
Rose glanced at the vase filled with daisies on the table beside the bed. “Those are beautiful,” she said.
“They’re from my daughter. My family came to see me earlier. My son came too, and he really wanted me to go to one of the big hospitals in Albuquerque
and have the doctors there examine me. I said no, and now he’s angry.”
“You know what’s best for you,” Rose said firmly.
“My daughter values the old ways and so does my granddaughter, but unfortunately my son does not.”
“All he has to understand is that
you
do,” Rose said staunchly.
“It’s never easy, is it?” Lena exhaled softly. “After the hand trembler was here I felt better, but now I’m
back to where I was. I understand your son needs to find one of the Plant People that has moved away.”
“I know the plant, and I’m searching for it now. I’ll find it for him, don’t worry.”
“Work fast, dear friend,” she said in a whisper-thin voice.
“You know I will.”
Rose said good-bye, and had just stepped out into the hall when one of the Anglo doctors approached her.
“Are you Rose Destea?”
he asked.
“Yes,” Rose answered.
“Her family spoke to me about you. They advised me to ask you for your help when you came in to see Mrs. Clani.”
“I’d be happy to help any way I can. What is it that you need?”
“Your friend has some heart irregularities that we can deal with, but her state of mind isn’t good at all. If there’s anything you can do to help keep her spirits up, you’d be doing
her a great service.”
“I’ll do my best.”
With a nod, he went inside Lena’s room to check on what he referred to as her vital signs.
Rose hurried down the hall, eager to leave the hospital as soon as possible. She hated every second she had to spend in the building, especially after seeing the sign with an arrow pointing down that said MORGUE. It only meant that it was in the basement, but it
still made her cringe.
Rose hurried to her truck, wanting to get under way quickly. Today, as she searched the Rez for the herb Clifford needed for Lena’s Sing, she would also stop and visit one of the men she knew had been a Code Talker during the war. One of the sites she intended to check out was near his home. She’d show him Charlie’s photo and see if he could identify him.
She’d met Jeremiah
Brownhat many years ago during a Fourth of July celebration. He’d had some fascinating stories to tell about his days in the Code Talkers. Charlie had been there at the time, and they’d spoken about sending messages to each other while serving in different units.
Rose joined Willie forty minutes later in Farmington. Kenmore the mastiff came with them, jumping in the back of the professor’s SUV
immediately.
They went to Jane Jim’s collection site first. It was barely off the reservation near a place the local people had named the Dunes, for obvious reasons. They searched the perimeter of the area for over an hour, but ‘white at night’ was nowhere to be found. Much of the area around the sand deposits had been
dug up and disturbed by the countless motorcycles that climbed up and down
the sand at nearly all hours of the day.
“I just thought of something that might help,” Willie said as they headed back to the SUV “Maria Poyer has an area on her family’s land she uses to grow some of her experimental plants. She might have an engineered plant that is similar in composition to ‘white at night.’ Do you want to give her a visit and see if she does?”
Rose shook her head. “We need
to use the Plant People the Holy People gave us, not some altered form, if the ceremony is to be effective,” Rose said. “Can you understand?”
“Sure, but you might consider paying her a visit anyway. I think you’d find her a knowledgeable ally, and she may just happen to have one of these primroses.”
“Do you know Maria well?” Rose asked, forcing herself to keep her tone casual.
“She and I have
worked together in the past. She was my student at one time too. Of course, that was a long time ago.”
“What do you think of her position on the plant issue?” Rose asked. Willie had worked with her, and become an ally she could depend on, but she was beginning to understand that people—and allies—were changeable.
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