But not serious enough, Myrna Louise thought bitterly, not nearly serious enough. If she’d been lucky-and she had never been lucky where her son was concerned-Andrew would have died. Someone would have put a bullet through his wretched head and taken him out of his misery, the way they used to do with rabid dogs.
After that, another stretcher came out of the house with someone strapped to it. The old Indian woman-what was her name again-limped heavily along beside the stretcher and climbed into the waiting ambulance to ride to the hospital, although she herself didn’t seem to be hurt.
A few minutes later, Myrna Louise recognized Diana Ladd. She, too, was carried past the detective’s car to an ambulance, with a man walking along beside her. Thank God they weren’t dead, Myrna Louise thought gratefully. She never could have lived with herself if that had happened.
Myrna Louise sat there quietly, knowing that eventually it would be her turn to answer questions. What would she say about Andrew when they asked her? Tell the truth, she thought. And what would happen when the neighbors on Weber Drive found out that Andrew Carlisle was her son? Would they still speak to her?
Myrna Louise sighed. She could always move again, she supposed. She’d done it before. Maybe she’d get herself one of those U-Hauls. What did they call that, “an adventure in moving”? She’d drive herself far away and start over again, somewhere where nobody knew her.
But first, she thought, she’d have to get herself a driver’s license, and maybe even a pair of glasses.
Davy sat in the crack and waited. That’s what he would call it from now on, I’itoi’s crack. He wondered how it would feel to be a fly and to go back down to the house. He would be able to see what was happening, but nobody would know he was there. He wanted to know and yet he didn’t. He was afraid to know.
His mother was still alive when he ran past her, and so was Nana Dahd, but were they still? He couldn’t tell. Bone had wanted to come with him, but he had ordered the dog to stay. Now, he wished he hadn’t. Why didn’t Bone come looking for him? Why didn’t someone else?
While he watched, a string of cop cars came streaming down the canyon road, lights flashing. It looked like a parade, except it wasn’t. There were no floats, no marching bands. The police cars were all going to his house. What would they find there? Would his mother still be alive?
When he first reached the cleft in the rock, he was panting, out of breath, afraid that the terrible man was right behind him. Now, as more time passed, he wondered who would come for him. Nana Dahd had been very specific about that. She had told him he must wait until morning, wait for someone he knew.
He shifted his body. The sharp rocks behind his back were growing uncomfortable. What if they forgot all about him and nobody came? Maybe he’d end up living there forever. How long was forever, anyway?
Three more sets of flashing lights came down the winding road and pulled in at the driveway. How many police cars did it take? he wondered. What was happening? He kept thinking his mother would come for him or Rita, but the longer it went without anyone coming, the more he was afraid they were dead.
What happened to you after you were dead? That was one of the things he was supposed to talk about with Father John the next time he saw him. Davy thought about Father John lying there so still on the root-cellar floor, and he thought about what the priest had said as they were leaving to take Bone to the vet.
How had that prayer gone? Davy squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated, trying to remember the exact words.
“In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
The Father he could understand, and he could understand the Son, but who was the Holy Ghost? Maybe, thought Davy, the Holy Ghost was I’itoi. So he bowed his head, just as he had seen Rita do, just like Father John, and he said a prayer for his mother, for Nana Dahd, for Father John, and also for Oh’o. He finished by praying, “In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of I’itoi. Amen.” It sounded a little different, but Davy was sure it meant the same thing.
Just then, as he finished the prayer, he heard a rock go scrabbling down the face of the cliff. He drew back inside the rocky cleft, making himself as small as possible, holding his breath, afraid that somehow the ohb had managed to escape and was coming after him.
He listened. Clearly now, he could hear footsteps coming closer and closer, as though whoever was coming knew the path to the crack, as though they knew all about Davy’s secret hiding place.
“Olhoni?” Someone was calling his name, his Indian name, but it wasn’t Nana Dahd. Who could it be then? No one else called him that. The voice wasn’t familiar, and Nana Dahd had given him strict orders to wait for someone he knew.
Then, suddenly, Bone thrust his spiked head into the entrance to the crack and covered the boy’s face with wet, slobbery kisses. Behind the dog, a man’s face peered in the small opening.
“Olhoni? Are you in there?”
Weak with relief, Davy let his breath out. It was Fat Crack. “Heu’u,” he answered. “Yes.”
“Come on, boy,” the Indian said, gently moving the dog aside. “An old man and I are waiting to take you to the hospital.”
Hospital? The word made Davy’s heart hurt. “Is my mother all right?” he asked. “Is Nana Dahd?”
“Your mother is hurt, but not bad,” the Indian said quietly. “Rita went with Father John. Come on. Everyone will be better once they know you are safe.”
As soon as Davy was outside the cave, Bone careened around him in ecstatically happy circles, but the boy was not ready to play. This was still far too serious. What he had lived through that day was anything but a game.
“What about the ohb?” Davy asked. “Is he dead?”
“No, nawoj,” Fat Crack replied. “The ohb isn’t dead, but he didn’t win. He’s in the hospital, too. Your dog almost bit his hand off. Rita wouldn’t let him.”
“She should have,” Davy said angrily. “What will happen to him now?”
Fat Crack shrugged. “The Mil-gahn will send him back to the Mil-gahn jail, I guess.”
“Will he get out again?” Davy asked.
“Who knows?” Fat Crack said, shaking his head. “That, Olhoni, is up to the Mil-gahn, isn’t it.”
Epilogue
Wanting to be the first to kill, Rattlesnake crept close to Evil Siwani’s camp, so the next morning, when the battle started, Rattlesnake killed first, and he chose the place that is now called Rattlesnake House.
When the battle was finally over, Evil Siwani was dead, and his house and all his people had been destroyed.
So I’itoi told the warriors who had helped him that they should choose where they wanted to live. Some people wanted to be farmers, and they went to live by the river. Since then they have been called Akimel O’odham, or the River People.
Some of the warriors were hunters, so they went to live near Waw Giwulk, which means Constricted Rock and which the Mil-gahn call Baboquivari. There they found plenty of mule deer to hunt and lots of other good food to eat. The people who stayed there have been called Tohono O’odham, or the Desert People.
And that is the story of how the Desert People emerged from the center of the earth to help I’itoi battle the Evil Siwani, and how they came to live here in this desert country where, nawoj, my friend, they still continue to live even to this day.