Shaman Winter (46 page)

The fragrance of coffee, eggs, chorizo, and tortillas filled the house. He entered the kitchen and Lorenza looked up.

“I laid him on his bed. I'll call his boys later. Right now I think don Toto and doña Concha should know.”

He called doña Concha and told her don Eliseo was dead. “Ay, Dios mío,” she cried, “mi viejito se murió. I'll get Toto. We'll be over right away. Don't worry, Sonny, we'll take care of everything.”

Sonny thanked her. The two old friends knew what to do. They would bathe the body, dress him, and then sit with him. They would pray. Don Toto would sing alabados, songs for the dead. Catholic songs with the high pitch of a Moorish canto, songs from the old world.

Don Toto would also bring a bottle of his homemade wine, and between their prayers they would also drink. They would sip wine and remember all the good times they had with don Eliseo. They would talk to him as if he were still with them, sharing old memories with him, asking him if he remembered such and such an event. Memories of their life.

Later Concha would prepare a meal and they would eat. The living had to eat. And so those hours would be their personal velorio, their wake for dead.

“It's going to be hard on them,” Sonny said when he hung up. “They were always together.”

Lorenza nodded. “But they understand the flesh must die. Don Eliseo's spirit is now their companion. Do you feel strong enough to drive to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I'll stay with them. Take care of don Eliseo's things.”

Sonny nodded. The old man had told him to take his Bible when he died, and the things the medicine men at the pueblo had given him over the years. A few simple things wrapped with prayer.

“Gracias,” he replied. Yes, it was important Lorenza stay with doña Concha and don Toto.

“Now the good news about the girls.”

“They were found.”

“Yes, Chief Garcia just called. He's going to call right back. The girls were found downtown this morning. In a building believed to have been rented by Raven.”

“Lord, I'm glad!” Sonny exclaimed. He sat and she handed him a cup of coffee.

“Is that the way it is?” he murmured. “We return from a dream.”

“Yes,” she said, and sipped her coffee.

“What a mysterious world,” was all he could say.

The phone rang and Sonny picked it up.

“Sonny, you up?” Chief Garcia thundered. “Ah, the life of a PI. Sleep late, breakfast in bed. Us ordinary cops have to work twenty-four hours a day, and you guys drink coffee all morning. Work when you want, party at night. But today I'm the one breaking the good news.” He laughed. “Did Lorenza tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Damnedest thing,” Garcia continued. “One minute they're bound, the next they're free. Got up and phoned the police. I got down there right away. Took them to St. Joe's to get checked. They're all right.”

“Good,” Sonny said. “And you called—”

“Yeah, I've notified the parents. The girls are tired, but they're safe and they weren't bothered. So we beat you to
two
catches this morning, Sonny.”

“You found Raven.”

There was a pause. “How in the hell did you know? Yeah, we found his body this morning.”

Sonny was intrigued. “Where?”

“You won't believe this. Last night he broke into Sandia Labs, into a lab where they had some kind of laser experiment going. He got burned by the Z machine. Lab security figures he was back trying to steal plutonium, and he walked into a fusion machine. Fried him.”

“How can you be sure it's Raven?” Sonny asked.

“You don't sound too goddamned excited,” Garcia chortled. “I'm sure it's Raven. There wasn't much left of him. A black cape. You know he likes to dress like a vampire. There were feathers stuck to his body, like he was some kind of a bird!”

Garcia laughed again. “Dead Raven if you ask me. Dead as a chicharrón. The lab will check the prints out, but I'm confident they'll match. So, while you were sleeping safe in bed, we nailed the sonofabitch!”

“Did you get the plutonium?” Sonny asked.

“Well, no, but … We'll find it. It's only a matter of time. He's dead, and sooner or later the plutonium will show up.”

“And the Ebola vials he was carrying?”

“Well, no, but the stuff is going to turn up. I'm sure.”

“Yeah, let's just hope it doesn't turn up in the city's drinking water,” Sonny replied.

“Dammit, Sonny! I've got my men working on it! FBI has their agents on it. Don't go talking scary stuff like that. Don't mention that to the press. You hear?”

“I understand,” Sonny said. “I'm not going to mention anything to anybody. I'm confident you and Paiz are going to take care of things. We're in good hands, Chief.”

“Yeah, well, thanks,” Garcia grumbled.

“How did he get into the labs?” Sonny asked.

“How am I supposed to know!” Garcia replied. “He can break into Fort Knox! He had that damn Chernenko building a bomb right under their noses. Let the lab's security figure out how he got there, I'm on my way to a press conference. This is big, Sonny. Goddamned mayor is so happy he's taking me out to lunch.”

“Have a good lunch, Chief.”

“Yeah, thanks. Say hi to Rita for me. Tell her I'll be stopping by her restaurant for some of that carne adovada.”

Sonny clicked the phone off. The chief didn't know Rita was in the hospital. The chief didn't know about dreams.

Sonny looked at Lorenza. She had freshened up while he was taking care of don Eliseo. Brightened her face. Like Rita in the morning, always showered and ready to face the day. What luck to have such beauty to gaze at early in the morning.

“You look very beautiful,” he said.

“Gracias.” She returned his smile.

Chica dragged herself into the kitchen, whining softly. Lorenza had bandaged the cut over her eye, and blood spotted the gauze.

“Poor Chica,” Sonny crooned, picking her up softly. “Next time you stay home. Human dreams can get dangerous. Even for a power dog like you.”

He fed her pieces of buttered tortilla as he ate, surprised that even with the grief of losing don Eliseo he could eat.

It comes together, he thought, the loss and going on. Today he had to go to Rita. He needed the strength to walk, to drive, to bring her home.

As he finished, the phone rang.

“Buenos días,” Paiz greeted Sonny. “I suppose you heard.”

“Yeah, Garcia called.”

Paiz chuckled. “He thinks he broke the case.” Then his tone changed. “I don't think the body they found is Raven's.”

Sonny waited. Of course the body burned by the laser at the labs wasn't Raven. But somebody had gone through great trouble to plant it there.

“Oh, I think the fingerprints will be a positive match. They will belong to the man who once was a courier up at Los Alamos. There are ways to make that stuff fit. That will satisfy Doyle and Eric.”

“Yes,” Sonny agreed. “What about the plutonium?”

“That's what worries me,” Paiz continued. “Doyle is flying in from Washington. He and Eric are going to reveal the whole story to the press. Raven, the man found dead at Sandia Labs, will be identified as the person who killed the Los Alamos guards. Expert work by the FBI tracked the man down. There is no missing plutonium pit, no vials of Ebola virus floating around. Disinformation rules the day, case closed. The public won't be panicked.”

“But the poison is still out there.”

“Yup.”

“In the hands of the Avengers.”

There was a pause. “I'm calling from my office, Sonny. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Sonny replied. His phone was tapped. He had to believe that there were still good men who couldn't be bought. He had to believe Paiz was not with the Avengers.

“So what do you do now?”

“I show up at the news conference. At Doyle's right hand. I nod and say ‘Yes, that's the way it happened.' Then I turn in my badge. I'm retiring, getting out.”

“Going fishing, huh.”

“I'm tired of the game. I used to think we could beat the drug cartels, beat the crazies who want to destroy the world. I don't anymore.”

“Sounds negative, bro.”

“Not really. I'll have the time to do a little of my own investigating. Maybe give you a little competition. Become a PI.”

He laughed.

“That's all the world needs.” Sonny managed a chuckle. “One more Chicano PI. But, hey, with your training you can really make a difference.”

“I don't know. I have a feeling you do all right.”

“Let's say I work in another reality,” Sonny said. “But the workplace is changing. Now we need computers. From now on I sit at home and do all my work on the Net. With a little help from an expert.”

“Just be careful what your expert gets into,” Paiz said.

He knew about Cyber.

“They're on to him?”

“Eric's pissed.”

“And if they catch him?”

“He's okay for now. Pulled the plug and disappeared.”

Good, Sonny thought.

“Anyway, soon as I give up my badge, I think I'll snoop around. Look for the plutonium.”

“Take on Raven?”

“Somebody's got to do it. You know the score better than anyone, and computers aren't the only answer. A good PI knows the streets, the people. I'd like to work with you.”

“Why not. But I'm taking time out to take care of my familia.”

“Didn't know you had a family.”

Sonny looked at Lorenza. “Oh, yeah, large family.”

“Well, family comes first,” Paiz said. “Take care.”

“I will. Buena suerte.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

29

He felt strong and renewed when he stepped outside. Above him the clear, blue New Mexican sky was a bowl holding the promise of clarity. Around him the neighborhood stirred. A red Ford Mustang moved down La Paz Lane, the driver waved. César and his wife, Bette, going to church. Sonny waved back.

People were going to work, preparing for Christmas, going about their daily lives, unaware the hinge of time had turned one more time, the solstice sun was returning north. He breathed deep the life-giving element, then exhaled vapor plumes.

How beautiful the simple things of the earth appeared, how sublime the nature of ordinary things.

“Gracias a Dios,” he whispered, closing his eyes and turning to face the warm sun. “Bless all of life.”

The warm sunlight filled the valley with a dazzling dance. The million rays of light were the Lords and Ladies of the Light, as don Eliseo taught. They came streaming from the sun, source of light, representatives of the Universal Spirit, the transcendent. Lords and Ladies dressed as brightly feathered Aztec dancers, kachina warriors, souls of the departed, brilliant spears of light that returned promise to the earth, infusing everything with life.

The bare branches of the alamos and elms reached up and breathed through frozen pores the light that fed the sleeping sap, and in the cornfield sere plants grew golden. On the potholed road thin crusts of ice glistened, a flock of sparrows swooshed by, alighting to feed in the cornfield, somewhere a dog barked, a horse whinnied.

Sonny's nostrils quivered to the smell of a new day, the frigid air that carried traces of composted leaves, faint piñon smoke, the aroma of coffee, breakfast, lovers parting.

Everything participated in the light, became light.

Moments passed; there was no count, for time itself became an element of the light, a commingling of matter with spirit, earth and sky animated.

Then slowly he returned from the blessing the sun conferred, breathed deep again, felt the solid earth beneath his feet, looked across the street at don Eliseo's home. The old man was resting, but his spirit was here in the morning light, still blessing Sonny's path.

“Gracias, don Eliseo,” Sonny said, as he had thanked the old man on many a morning. “Gracias por mi vida.”

He walked to his truck, thanking the miracle that had returned his strength. Opening the door, he felt the cold inside the truck. He turned the ignition, feeling surprised when the motor turned and started. All was strange, yet all was as it should be.

He shivered. There were many worlds. Planes of reality. He touched the steering wheel, amazed at the simplicity of metal. It served a function, but it melted away in the time of dream, the time of the ancestors.

He drove down Fourth Street, deeply aware of people moving on the street, cars and trucks, children, stores opening for business, Christmas decorations glistening in the bright sunshine.

When he arrived at the hospital, he felt weak and thought he had attempted too much too soon. But he wanted to show Rita he could walk. It was important to him, and to her.

He walked slowly, bypassing the nurses' station and going directly to Rita's room. When he opened the door, Rita looked up in surprise. “Sonny! You're walking!”

He gathered her in a warm embrace. “I'm so happy, so happy,” she kept repeating. “How did it happen?”

Sonny shrugged. “We had a little car accident last night. Something snapped when I got tossed around. I got up and I could walk.”

“An accident? Are you all right? Your face is scratched.”

“No, I'm fine. Can you believe, I drove here. Got in the troca and drove myself over.”

“That's wonderful. Where's Lore?”

“She stayed with don Eliseo.”

He didn't yet want to tell Rita that the old man was dead. He thought of the body of the old man resting in the cool shadows of his home, and doña Concha and don Toto praying over him, lighting candles, bathing the old man and dressing him in his Sunday suit. They would want him to look nice when his sons came.

He pulled up a chair and sat by the side of the bed.