It seemed like my only option and with each second I spent thinking about it, I knew I was losing the battle. The snake was unbearably close now. Would I even be able to move?
I took a deep breath and was about to go for it when the snake pounced in one quick movement. I had no time to react, no time to scream. I could only sit there and watch in slow motion as the snake coiled its head back and flung itself at me, mouth open, fangs protruding.
I braced for impact.
And heard the loudest BANG rip through the sky and shake the earth. Before my eyes, the snake suddenly exploded into a million pieces. A plume of dirt flew straight up into the air like a geyser and my ears throbbed with the sonic boom.
I felt wet. I looked down. Bloody bits and pieces of snake were sticking to me. But the snake was gone and dead.
“Are you OK?” a voice shot out from behind me.
I turned my head and looked up at the slope. At the top of the ridge was Bird, white Stetson on his head, pistol in hand, looking like something out of a Gary Cooper film. He was staring down at me, his face stern.
He may have just saved my life. I looked at where the snake was, just to make sure it really was dead, that I really managed to escape that. It was gone. I was safe.
I nodded, not sure what to say.
“Stay there,” he commanded and quickly slid down the slope, jumping down the last bit. He knelt beside me, sorrow etched into his knobby forehead. He looked me over and nodded to himself a few times.
“You’ll be OK. Can you walk?”
“Yeah,” I croaked out. I cleared my throat, trying to seem more in control and less stupid. “I can, my ankle kind of hurts but I don’t think I sprained it.”
He walked around behind me and pulled me up from underneath my arms, careful not to hurt me. I got to my feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“A snake is a bad omen. Killing one can be even worse,” he said. “But it would have been far worse if that one had gotten a hold of you.”
“Was it poisonous?”
“The worst. But it can’t hurt you now.”
“You must think I’m a total moron. Going off into the mountains by myself, not even telling anyone. And now my whole left side is a disgusting mess.”
He lay his hand lightly on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. His own were gentle, as always, and seemed to possess endless wisdom.
“I don’t think you’re a so-called moron. Though you should have told someone where you were going. But I was watching you, the whole time, until you disappeared from the mesa. I know now I don’t have to tell you that these hills aren’t as pretty as they look. There’s a lot more things out here than snakes, worse things. I know you won’t be doing that again.”
I shook my head, looking at the ground, feeling like a child.
“And your arm isn’t as bad as you think.”
He licked his finger and brought it down against it. The dirt lifted clean off showing the skin beneath had only superficial scratches.
“We’ll get you cleaned up. Come on, would you like me to carry you?”
I smiled anxiously. “No, I’m good. Really. Lead the way.”
He walked down through the trees, through the makeshift path I saw earlier, offering his hand every few steps. I stubbornly refused in the nicest way possible.
We walked through the forest for about five minutes. I felt the elevation dropping and the air growing warmer, even underneath the fragrant shade.
“So,” I said. “I noticed someone had been there before.”
“Sure,” he replied and kept walking forward.
“There was a fire, a shovel, footprints. Looked like people were digging for something.”
“It happens all the time here.”
“Is it Miguel or Shan?”
Bird laughed and skirted around an outcrop that stuck out into the trees. “No, not them. New Mexico is a lot different from Oregon. We don’t have a lot of property laws. People generally come and go on your land as they please.”
“But digging up stuff, I mean whatever it is, isn’t it yours?”
“It depends. If they are looking for Navajo objects, it’s probably everyone’s. Everyone Navajo that is. To be honest with you, if a fellow brother finds something Navajo on the Lancaster’s property, it’s better off in their hands anyway. Will and Sarah wouldn’t care, they don’t follow that way anymore.”
Interesting. I almost detected a hint of animosity in Bird’s gentle voice.
“Is it a big problem when people give up their…way?” I asked.
“It can be. It usually is for their families. But, you know, people in town, we’ve all become a lot more tolerant. It’s a shame but you can’t blame them in this day and age. It wasn’t working for them, maybe. Maybe being a Christian has been more rewarding.”
I stifled a laugh.
“You can’t tell me they feel more rewarded,” I said. “For someone as blatantly Christian as Sarah…” I shook my head. “That woman is not rewarded. She’s a hypocrite.”
Bird stopped and I almost ran into his back. I was suddenly afraid I had angered him. There I was shooting my mouth off again.
He turned and looked at me, eyebrow cocked. “You think Sarah is a liar?”
“No. Not at all, I just don’t get how she can be all Christian and religious and stuff and then act like the complete opposite. Maybe it’s just me though. Maybe she just rubs me the wrong way.”
He nodded, musing it over. He looked up at the trees and the sunlight filtering through the needles. Bird always seemed so poised.
“You have to understand…she wasn’t always like this. Even years ago, when she was still blind, she was a lot better. I don’t know what happened. Especially lately. But Will and Sarah are not an easy pair to figure out and I can only say that forsaking the Navajo way can’t have been easy, ever. Growing pains. Besides, all religions are full of hypocrites.”
“True.” I nodded.
“What do you believe in?” he asked gently.
“I believe in God. Or some great power beyond what we can imagine. But I think religion is a manmade prison,” I answered honestly. Try telling that to my father, though, I thought.
“You’re a smart woman, Perry. There’s a lot more to you than some people give you credit for. I know you feel that.”