Star Gift

Chapter Seven

Once Blake and Russel realized they were to stay at the shaman's house until morning, more less as guests but closer to some degree of captives, Dan the Navajo Ranger became more cordial to them. He showed them up to the second level of Jaspers house, and the spare bedroom where they would sleep. He then explained it was not unusual for people, friends and relatives, to stay there at the Sani's home. Especially during festival days, he explained, when the tribe held sacred events. He then offered to make a run back to town, where he would bring back a takeout dinner for them all.

"So, what's it going to be guys? Mexican or Chinese?" he asked.

The absurdity of the question caused them both to relax, even smile and thank Dan for his hospitality. Not long after he left, and while the two sat on their separate beds quietly considering their unusual circumstances, there came a knock on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in," Blake called out.

Entering the room and carrying fresh bedding and bath towels, was a teenaged girl, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Like the young man at the gas station of about the same age, her complexion was dark, her features Native American. She was dressed in clothing not unlike the high school-aged girls back in California—tight jeans, athletic trainers, and a sweatshirt labeled HOLISTER. Her raven black hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and she shyly put the articles on the bed, avoiding eye contact with the two who were speechless from the moment she appeared.

"Hey, thanx," Russel finally said, a little uncertain he should even speak to her.

"No problem," she said quietly. "Let me show you the bathroom up here,"

The two got off their beds and followed her out of the room and down the narrow hallway. A small but essential bathroom was behind a narrow door.

"Sometimes the hot water is already gone in the mornings, depending who's up and how much they use," she said. "But out here the water for a shower is never that cold. Just during the winter months when it sometimes snows."

"Well, thanks for the heads-up," Blake told her, taking note of the turquoise-colored tiles in the shower and its state of cleanliness. The girl then turned unceremoniously and led them back down the hall toward their room.

"My grandfather wanted me to tell you we'll have dinner downstairs in about an hour," she said, still making no intimate contact with her lovely Asian-looking eyes.

"OK," the two said, practically in unison.

At that point the lithe girl left them, taking another passageway and disappearing with the sound of a door closing behind her.

Back in their room, Blake looked at the clean sheets and towels on their twin beds. Each low-framed mattress was covered neatly by a Navajo blanket. These were known all over the world for their intricate geometric patterns and excellent quality of dyed wool. There was one window in the room—too small for either of the two to escape through, and when Russel opened the wooden shutter and looked out, he commented on the intensely bright night sky and contrasting dark expanse of desert.

"This is definitely a different world out here." he said, with both amazement and fear in his voice. At that moment Blake's cell phone buzzed in his pocket and as he fished it out to answer it, Russel fell back on his bed, condemned to listen to the one-sided conversation with growing aggravation.

"Hello, Steph? . . . Yeah. Well we're . . . kind of hung up out here at the moment."

Russel began to nod his head ironically, indicating both to himself and to a conversant Blake, that in reality, they might never leave.