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Darkmoon(100)

By:Christine Pope


Stepping out of the little stand of cottonwoods, I expected to see the empty fields and hillsides around me gradually fill in with the shapes of the houses and roads and walls that should be standing here…but they didn’t. Nothing changed, and I felt a stirring of fear inside me.

So Jeremiah and Nizhoni had gotten their happy ending…but did they have to leave me here in the otherworld she’d created with no way out?

Okay, Angela, I told myself. Breathe. You just accomplished the impossible, so getting out of here can’t be too hard compared to that.

I thought of where I was. Northwest of downtown, with high hills on either side. That was clear enough in my head from looking at Google maps. Now I just had to visualize how everything had appeared before Nizhoni’s reality took over — the dry creek bed with the bridge over it, the big houses to either side, sitting on their half- and third-acre plots.

So I closed my eyes and brought those pictures up in mind, recalling every last detail I could, right down to the fancy wooden playhouse/slide/swing-set combo I’d spotted in someone’s backyard. There. That should do it.

But when I looked around me, nothing had changed. Same cottonwoods, same stream moving briskly within its banks. Same vast, vast emptiness, with nothing around me except miles and miles of ponderosa pines.

My heart began to hammer in my chest. Just walk, I told myself. It’s better than standing here and doing nothing.

Seeming to move of their own accord, my feet took me away from the little grove where Nizhoni’s bones rested, down the creek, down in the general direction of the town center. What would happen if I made it all the way there, I wasn’t sure. Would I find an older version of Flagstaff, or nothing at all?

No, that wasn’t right. If I had somehow gotten stuck back in 1876, there wouldn’t even be a Flagstaff in the place I was looking.

A little sob caught in the back of my throat, but I kept going. I wouldn’t stop now, no matter what, not even if I walked over this stony ground until my flip-flops broke apart. If I made myself keep on, maybe I could still get back to Connor somehow. I tried to make myself feel the shape of his hand beneath mine, the way it had been resting when I went into the otherworld, but I couldn’t. My fingers were cold in the chilly night breeze, unwarmed by his flesh.

I don’t know how long I walked. The darkness never changed, and neither did the landscape. That is, maybe there were slight variations in the shapes of the hills and the locations of the trees, but I never saw a single sign of life. No buildings, no roads, no people.

Until….

Her back was to me, her long black hair lifting in a faint breeze that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. I froze, wondering if this was Nizhoni, returned from wherever she’d gone with Jeremiah. Had she come back to help me?

My pace quickened, gravel crunching under my feet, and the woman turned. No, this was not Nizhoni. Only the silky dark hair was the same, hanging almost to her waist. But this woman was older, her face more oval.

And then I realized who it was.

“Marie?” I said, voice incredulous, cracking a little on the second syllable. “What — what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home,” she replied calmly, as if running into each other in this place was the most natural thing in the world. “I felt — I could tell you were having some trouble.”

“Were you watching me? How did you know I was here?” My voice sharpened. “Did you see what happened with Nizhoni and Jeremiah?”

“I had a vision of you here, and knew I must come.” Head tilting to one side, she asked, “What is this about Nizhoni and Jeremiah?”

“The curse is broken,” I said simply.

Her eyes shut, and she whispered something under her breath. “So it did come to pass. I wasn’t sure — ”

“Yeah, it might have been good to know you weren’t feeling totally certain, but since you bailed on us and only left a note — ”

“I am sorry about that. It was just” — she made an impatient gesture with one hand, as if trying to wave away something that had irritated her —“it became too difficult for me, because I knew you would learn about your father, and then all those memories I had tried to push away for so many years would come flooding back. I went back to the reservation, to surround myself with stillness, to keep myself from knowing the truth. It was weak of me, and I apologize, but I did not want to know what had become of him, how he had moved on with his life. ”

“But he hasn’t,” I said, my tone softer than I would have expected it to be. Maybe it was simply that I’d just seen how much damage love thwarted could do. “He’s hidden himself all these years, waiting for tonight to come, but I don’t think there’s ever been anyone else. He never stopped loving you.”