the Lonesome Gods (1983) (24 page)

"Jacob! It is good to see you, man! How has it been with you?"

"I'm working. You can see that. You would do well to join us."

"Well ... join you for what? I am too old to wander around, Jacob. These last months ... I've been like a leaf in the wind. I believe I was happiest when we were coming west. We were alive, Jacob. There was need for us then, and Farley ... he was a fine man, Jacob, and Zachary Verne. I can't get him out of my mind. There was something about him--"

"Of course. We all felt it, I think. He was special." "But why? I've met a lot of men, but none like him. I've thought about him a lot, coming west when he knew h
e
was going to die, thinking only of his son, even willing to be killed if he could find a home for him."

"He was special. So is the boy."

"Is he here? I ran into Peg-Leg Smith up north, and he was asking about the boy. Said he'd found him in the desert. He'd come upon his tracks and followed them." "The old devil brought him in. Picked the kid up." "He told me. He told me something else, too. Somebody was following him."

"Peg-Leg?"

"No, the boy. Somebody was following the boy." Following me? No ... I had looked back, again and again. I had looked back to be sure I was holding my direction. There had been nobody out there. Yet, there were heat waves and it was hard to see very far.

"What are you talkin' about, Kelso?"

"There's something about that boy. Remember the Indian he saw at Indian Wells? The old man with the turquoise? He told his pa about it?"

"So?"

"I was back there, happened to mention it. Folks there said the boy was dreaming, there were no Indians at the Wells that night, and there hadn't been any for days. There was something going on up in the Santa Rosas, up above Deep Canyon somewhere."

"What are you saying?"

"Just telling you, Jacob. You an' me, we both know there's things out in that desert ... things happen out there.

"Look, you've been around Injuns enough. There's things they know that we don't. About the desert, I mean, and the mountains."

"Maybe. I've heard stories ... Hell, Kelso, a man can't believe half what he hears! Who knows what an Indian is thinking but another Indian? Who knows what they believe? I've known men who claimed they knew Indians ... they were talking through their hats. Nobody does."

Jacob paused. "Kelso? You said Peg-Leg said somebody was following Johannes? Who was it?"

"Peg saw the tracks. Moccasin tracks of somebody with a long stride ... mighty long, according to Peg."

"Who was it?"

"Maybe you should ask what it was. I don't know anything but what Peg told me." Kelso paused. "Thing was, he didn't see anybody, only the tracks."

There was silence in the room, and I lay wide-awake, straining my ears for every word. What were they talking about? What did they mean?

"Look at it this way, Jacob. You've heard the stories about how Verne and his woman lived in the desert, how the old man tried to find them, had dozens of men out hunting, rewards offered ... everything.

"Did they find them? No. And why not?"

"Hell, Verne knew the desert! He'd roamed out there a lot, and the Indians were friendly."

"I know. Maybe that's all it was, and maybe I'm having pipe dreams." Kelso paused. "Jacob? Is there any grub around? Maybe I'm just hungry. Maybe I just can't think straight anymore."

"Sit tight. I'll roust something up from the kitchen. There'd be some cold frijoles and some tortillas."

"I'd eat a cold horse collar right now. Or even an old saddle blanket."

There was a faint rattle of dishes, then a sound of something being put on the table.

"What are you suggesting, Kelso? What's biting you?" "Verne took food to those Injuns when they were starving, so they'd want to help him. I run into a Mex up to Santa Barbara and he told me they saw no Injuns. Saw no tracks except the two of them they chased. Only sometimes dust storms wiped 'em out.

"The more I think about it, I've been wondering. Maybe Verne was in touch with something out there? Maybe the boy was?

"Who knows about the desert? Remember the boy being interested in old trails? And why didn't the Mohaves follow us?"

"They'd had enough, that's all. We shot too straight."

"Maybe ... or maybe they were gettin' into country where their medicine was weak. Maybe they were scared to follow." Kelso paused again. "You been in the desert, Jacob. Did you ever hear of the Old Ones?"

Chapter
27

There was a long silence in the room, and my ears strained to hear what would be said. The Old Ones? Who were they? And where had I heard the expression before?

"Oh, sure! Stories told over a campfire. Spooky stuff, like ghosts an' ha'nts an' such. We've all heard them." "There's trails out yonder that seem just to wander off an' go nowhere. Sometimes they just fade out into nothing, lose themselves in the heat waves. Sometimes they go into the mountains." He paused. "Ever hear of the House of the Ravens?"

"One time ... down Yuma way, isn't it?"

"West of Yuma, up in some rocky hills down there. These Injuns around now, they don't know from nothing about it, but they know it's there, like that Tehachapi country.

"Verne was around out there a lot, and those Injuns accepted him as one of their own, as much as they will accept any white man. If anybody knew anything, he would.

"I've wondered some about those trails out yonder. The ones that seem to just disappear? I've been wondering what would happen if a body just kept riding. I mean, why do those trails go somewhere and then suddenly stop?"

"You want my advice, Kelso? Stay away from them. There are some things no man should pry into. Leave 'em to the Injuns, or the Old Ones, whoever."

"One thing I'm sure of. There were people here befor
e
the Injuns the Spanish found, and there were quite a lot of them. If they built from adobe, nothing would be left. You know how quick it melts away if it isn't plastered or roofed over.

"As far as that goes, look at our own towns. What would be left after even two hundred years if nobody cared for them? A foundation or two covered with sand, that would be all.

"Iron rusts away. Hell, you let two, three hundred years pass and nobody would ever know we'd even been here. That goes for our cities back east, too. You just notice any old abandoned building and see how fast it falls apart!

"I've heard stories about a city that used to be out in the desert, in the Mohave. It was destroyed by an earthquake and some great rains that followed it. Some of the Injuns or whoever they were took refuge in the Tehachapi Mountains, lived around there for years until the last of them died off.

"You ever been in the Tehachapis or up Caliente Creek? Ever wonder why there's no Injuns there? Well, I've thought about it, but I've got no answers."

Kelso ate in silence, then asked for more coffee. Tired as I was, I was wide-awake.

"Maybe I've spent too much time in the desert and mountains. You get out there alone, and pretty soon you get to wondering. You hear things, little things, you think you see things sometimes, and maybe you do.

"Some of the Injuns have stories about what they call the Thunder-Bird, some great bird or flying thing that makes a noise like thunder. There was a Mexican who said something like that used to land in a lake, Lake Elizabeth, they called it. Used to kill his sheep sometimes. Then later there was a story about two cowboys who killed a flying reptile or something down in the desert in Arizona."

"You been listening to too many stories, Kel. I think it's time you came in out of the hills and settled down with folks."

"Maybe.... Again, it may be that I've been closer t
o
some of those Injuns. After all, they've been here a long time, Jacob."

When morning came I went outside and looked for Mr. Kelso, but he was gone into the town.

I kept thinking about what he had said last night. Something or somebody had followed me in the desert. There were trails that seemed to lead nowhere. A city in the desert that had vanished, and the Thunder-Bird ... the House of Ravens ... and my own house of Tahquitz. I wished Francisco was here.

I had been in Los Angeles a long time when one day, our girl Rosa told me she had seen someone lurking under the willows near the house. When I entered the kitchen that morning, Rosa was making tortillas.

She went to the door and pointed. "It was over there!" she said. "He was standing back under the leaves. I could not see him very well."

Walking over to the willows, I prowled around among them, looking for tracks. Suddenly I found them, and not only tracks but cigarette butts, many of them. Some were old, some were new. Some were there from before the last shower; some were fresh.

Somebody was watching our house.

Searching, I found where the tracks entered the willows to come to the place of watching. I followed them back to a narrow lane that led along behind some farm yards to a street.

Whoever was watching us had come up that lane from the street several times, perhaps many times, and he had watched our house while hidden in the willows.

Had he seen Aunt Elena?

Who was it, and why was he watching our house? Was he watching me? Or Miss Nesselrode?

When school was over that day I went to the book shop, and when there were no customers, I told Jacob, who was there, and Miss Nesselrode about my discovery. "Look into this, will you, Jacob?" she asked.

"The boy's good, ma'am. I'll take a look, but I doubt I'll find anything he didn't."

"I believe," she added, "it is time you took that trip we spoke of once to see the Indians." She stood up suddenly. "Tomorrow morning, Jacob. You and Johannes start tomorrow morning."

"We'll be gone quite a while, ma'am. Don't you think--" "Mr. Kelso will be here. I want Johannes out of here, and be sure nobody sees you leave. Change horses as often as you wish, but get away from this area very quickly."

She turned to me. "You wished to take some books? Pick five or six and list the titles, if you will. Leave the list on my desk."

Jacob took up his hat. "All right, ma'am, just so you will be in good hands."

"I can handle it." Miss Nesselrode smiled a little. "I believe you will remember that when need be I do not hesitate to shoot."

Jacob smiled. "No, ma'am, you surely don't." He turned his hat in his hands. "Do you want us to check out that wild-horse hunt while we're gone? Might be a good idea to come back by Cajon Pass. Give us a chance to ride up through the edge of the mountains and desert, maybe get a line on where we'd best look."

"All right."

She looked over at me. "Pack what you need, Johannes, and only what you need. I shall miss you very much, but you will have a great adventure, I am sure."

"Yes, ma'am. Will you see Aunt Elena, ma'am?"

Miss Nesselrode considered that, her fingertips resting on the table. "I shall try. She is a very interesting woman, your Aunt Elena."

We rode away before the sun was up, when the last stars lingered in the sky, reluctant to yield their light to the sun. We rode rapidly, and as before, we held to the back roads and trails.

As we rode, Jacob pointed out places he knew or ha
d
heard of. We covered a lot of ground, moving at a shambling trot except where we walked up the steeper hills. Wherever possible, we kept to routes that were parallel to the trail, wishing to be seen by no one.

"How you gettin' along in that school?" Jacob asked suddenly. "Had any more trouble with that Huber boy?" "No, sir. It is a good school. Mr. Fraser is a good teacher, the best I ever had."

"Don't see how he makes it pay with no more students than he has, bin if he can hold on, there will be more." "There are six now," I said.

"I saw Cap'n Laurel's daughter there, didn't I? The pretty one with the gold hair?"

"Red-gold," I corrected. "Yes, she sits beside me." "Oh? No wonder you had trouble with that Huber boy." He glanced at me with sly amusement. "Wait until you meet her pa. Dl' Cap'n Laurel--now, there's a character!"

There was nothing I could say, although I had heard stories, and Meghan had said he had asked about me. "Laurel's a canny man. In some ways an uncanny one. Some of his crew were ashore here a time or two, and it seems the old man is either mighty knowing or he's tuned into something. They say he goes places where no cargo could be expected and there is always cargo for him.

"He knows the coast of China and Japan like he owned it. Siberia, too. Sometimes he sails up the rivers, they say. Always something doing with him. 'Uncanny' is the word.

"You know these fellows who go around tuning pianos? They have an ear for the sound, the exact sound? Well, Laurel seems to be that way. He's been known to change course of a sudden, no warning, just a sudden change of course that will take him out of trouble or where there's cargo."

"You mentioned Japan. I didn't think they allowed foreign ships to come to their ports."

"They don't. Only Laurel, he knows somebody or somet
hing and he goes. If you get to know him, I'd surely like to hear what you think. So would Miss Nesselrode." Riding in silence as we usually did gave me time to think, and there was so much to think about. So many puzzling things had come up. My mother had said my father had premonitions. Was that what Captain Laurel had? Or were they what is called hunches? Or was it merely knowledge?