American Girl

Arizona

Chenoa climbed the steep cliff carefully. Each hand and foothold was a precise action. One wrong move would plummet her down the rocky precipice, but she would not experience a freefall. Squeezing her eyes closed, she forced away the vision of hitting each outcropping rock on her way down. She wouldn't fall; she kept assuring herself. She was an experienced climber.

Focusing upward, Chenoa placed her eyes firmly on the next handhold. She scanned several places before choosing the right one. Stretching upward, she reached and touched the rock. Her hand firmed up, and she drew herself to the next level. She skinned her knee, drawing blood. Using her mind's strength, she pushed the pain aside.

"Chenoa." Her name reached her from far below. She couldn't look down, wouldn't look down. Her brother, Keekuk, stood beneath her on firm ground. His name meant watchful. He set himself up as her guardian following their mother's passing. Although she tried to allude him occasionally, he always managed to catch up with her.

Keekuk called her again. Chenoa paused, considered responding, but pulled herself upward instead. She found a firm foothold and began considering her next move. Climbing a rock face took strength, but her toned and sinuous body was ready for adventure.

"Chenoa," Keekuk called again. "Come down from there immediately."

The climbing girl glanced over her shoulder. Her older brother gazed up at her. His dark eyes met hers over a great distance. Her long, unbound hair draped downward across her slender back. Her doeskin skirt rose nearly above her thighs. She looked at Keekuk once, then lifted her body up the cliff face.

"I'm not taking responsibility if you get hurt," Keekuk yelled, cupping his mouth with his hands. "Consider yourself warned."

Chenoa continued to climb. She was halfway up and determined to reach her destination, Montezuma's Castle. The cliff dwelling was the home of her ancestors, and she determined to explore the ancient relic high on the cliff.

Below her, Keekuk paced. He worried too much about his little sister. He recalled her as a tiny, beautiful baby. Her copper skin and wide brown eyes fascinated him. He promised his mother he would look out for her and keep her safe. Keeping her safe was like capturing the wind. Chenoa, in her brother's opinion, was more trouble than she was worth. He practically wore himself out, keeping her out of trouble.

"Chenoa, get down!" he called in vain. The lithe body moved steadily upward.

Keekuk held his breath. Chenoa snaked up the cliff wall. She reached for a rock, which loosened and tumbled downward. He watched her halt, study the situation, and choose another outcrop. Her body advanced another foot. Keekuk couldn't bear to watch, yet he couldn't avert his eyes. He finally decided he had to go up, too.

Keekuk scrambled up the cliffside. He longed to rush but also had to concentrate. Every foothold held danger. He realized he could never catch up with his sister but was closer to her if she fell. Still, he didn't know what he could do for her. Grab her, maybe? They could both die.

Chenoa continued to climb. Her goal was in sight. Below her, she was aware of her brother's movements. She cast surreptitious looks over her shoulder when she dared. He still had a long way to go before he reached her. In the meantime, she considered the cliff dwelling. The ancestors had built high to avoid flooding. They lived, loved, and thrived in the buildings they carved into the limestone. She looked down at Keekuk and then continued her assent.

Her hand gripped the solid ledge, and she pulled herself up. Using her knee as leverage, Chenoa stood up. The buildings looked more magnificent close-up than they did at ground level. She turned to face the sky, a feeling of triumph overcoming her. Keekuk looked like an ant scrambling amongst the outcropping rocks. He rose steadily, using as much care as she had.