The Navajo

Ithel was carefully guiding his brown horse threw a dry creek bed when a light breeze drifted across the sandy plains and for a brief moment sucked some of the heat from his red, sun scorched face.

As Ithel luxuriated in that brief moment of relief, he looked up in wonder at the gorgeous shades of red, orange, and brown in the mesa that rose up out of the earth before him.

Unfortunately for Ithel at that same moment he happened to let his mind wonder and to loosen his grip on the reins, a rattlesnake slid across the path causing his horse to rear up in fear.

Ithel was tossed from his horse and landed hard on his right arm, which he had extended to brace his fall. He, immediately felt and heard a sharp break. He rolled onto his back clutching his right arm, when his horse in its state of frenzy stepped back onto his left ankle shattering it.

As Ithel grimaced in pain, his horse spun around and raced away taking Ithel’s canteen and other supplies with him.

After cursing his stupid American horse, Ithel carefully sat up and pulled up his left pant leg. As you probably guessed, his ankle was in awful shape. A piece of bone had pierced his skin, and his ankle was lying in an unnatural angle.

Ithel knew what he had to do, but he most definitely was not looking forward to it. He dragged himself across the hot sandy ground using his one good arm until he was able to gather three sticks. After putting one stick in his mouth, he took hold of his left foot and quickly pulled it back into place as he bit down so hard on the stick that it broke.

Fighting threw the tremendous pain, Ithel lined up the other two sticks next to his ankle then used his bandanna to tie them firmly into place sending more pain lacing through his body.

With his injuries treated to the best of his current ability, Ithel dragged himself to a small, sliver of shade thrown by a slight cliff created by the old creek.

I would like to tell you that the pain consumed him, and Ithel passed out. But, that’s not what happened. Ithel lay there fully conscious of his pain with the full heat of the day weighing down on him growing more and more desperate for water as a fever slowly overcome him.

Eventually, the sun sank beneath the horizon bringing blessed cool to the land and some relief to Ithel’s cracked lips and scorched skin. As the night continued to cool, Ithel had a brief moment of lucidity. He stared up at the gorgeous full white moon shining out of a perfectly clear, star-studded sky. Then, he let his gaze drift down to the alien but beautiful land around him and thought if this was how he finally died, then he’d be ok with that. But, of course, fate was not having that.

The next day, as the sun was nearing its zenith, a young Navajo man named Keekuk made his way down the dry river bed astride a white and brown mottled horse leading Ithel’s horse on a short rope. When he saw Ithel curled up into a ball, he called out, “Hello,” but of course, Ithel was unable to respond.

After a moment’s hesitation, Keekuk climbed off his horse and walked slowly over to Ithel with one hand on the knife at his hip. He said, “Hello,” again, but Ithel still did not respond. Then, he nudged him with his foot causing Ithel to groan and roll over revealing his splinted leg and red sweat covered face.

Keekuk bent down, lifted Ithel’s head up, and gently placed his waterskin to Ithel’s parched lips. Even in his delirious state, Ithel greedily drank down as much water that Keekuk gave him.

After momentarily satisfying Ithel’s thirst, Keekuk hauled Ithel onto his brown horse, tied him to the saddle, then climbed back onto his horse and led them away.

Keekuk led Ithel back to his hogan, a small dome shaped building made of mud and wood, carried him inside, and placed him on a bed of rugs and furs he made for him near the fire.

Hours later, Ithel awoke to the sound of Keekuk and his wife, Malia, arguing quietly in a language he didn’t understand and an old familiar tug deep within his soul. Then, he opened his eyes and saw that their baby daughter, Halona, who was riding in an ingenious carrier on Malia’s back was staring at him with large curies hazel eyes.

Ithel smiled and after Halona smiled back at him, cleared his throat. Keekuk and Malia looked over at him. Then, Malia stormed out.

To Ithel’s surprise, Keekuk said in clear English, “Would you like some water?”

Ithel said, “Yes, please.”

Keekuk handed him his waterskin.

After taking a long drink, Ithel asked, “Why did you save me?”

“It was the right thing to do?”

“You know must people who look like me wouldn’t do that to someone who looks like you.”

Keekuk shrugged.

“You don’t care about that?”

“I am not them. I can only do what I think is right.”

Ithel nodded and took another long drink.

After a long period of silence, Ithel said, “I’m not like the other people who look like me. I’m a genie, and because you saved my life, I will grant you three wishes.”

Keekuk stared at him but didn’t say a word.

“You can wish for anything: money, gold, more food, more horses, anything.”

After a long period of silence, Keekuk said, “I will think on this,” and walked outside.

That night, they shared a dinner that Malia made, but no one talked. And as Ithel fell asleep, he could still feel the tension in the air.

The next day, Ithel jerked awake. The tug inside him was gone. He opened his eyes and saw Malia working near the fire with Halona in her customary carrier, but Keekuk was gone.

After glancing around, Ithel looked at Malia and asked, “Where is my gun?”

She looked at him blankly, and Ithel said, “I need my gun,” as he mimed a gun with his hand.

Malia still just stared at him. Frustrated by her lack of response, Ithel threw off his blanket and tried to stand up. It was much harder than he had anticipated. His fever was gone, but his leg and arm were still in very bad shape.

When Ithel finally staggered up onto his right leg, he turned around and saw to his surprise that Malia was pointing his gun at him.

Ithel slowly raised his left hand, and Malia asked, “Why do you need your gun?”

Ithel stared straight into her eyes doing his best to not show his surprise that she spoke English and said, “Your husband is dead, and there are other men coming to kill us.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“And, I’m supposed to just believe you.”

“No. Go look outside.”

Malia slowly edged to the door, pulled back the rug covering it and glanced outside where she saw three white horseman riding towards them.

Seeing the fear on her face, Ithel asked, “How many are there?”

“Three.”

Ithel nodded and asked, “Do you have another gun?”

She shook her head, and Ithel asked, “Have you ever killed a man?”

She shook her head again, and Ithel said, “I have, so if you want to live, you need to give me my gun.”

“How do I know you’re not with them?”

Ithel shot her a hard stare and said, “Either shoot me or give me the gun.”

After a long tense moment, Malia extended the gun towards Ithel.

Ithel took it and said, “Quick, dump some water on the fire and hide,” as he hopped towards the door.

As Malia went to dump water on the fire, Ithel asked, “Where’s my belt with my knife and extra bullets?”

Malia quickly turned around and pulled Ithel’s belt out from under some rugs behind her.

“Can you put it on me?” asked Ithel. “My other arm isn’t working right now.”

Malia hurried over to Ithel and strapped his belt on him as they heard the horseman approaching.

Malia quickly kicked over a pot of water onto the fire and dove under the blankets on her bed as Ithel hopped over to the door.

Ithel pressed himself tight against the wall next to the door as the horseman in the middle, a rough looking man with dirty yellow teeth, red sunburned skin, and a scraggly black beard called out, “If anyone is in there, come on out now, and you want get hurt…I promise.”

After waiting for a good long minute, the lead horseman said, “Billy, go see what they got in their barn. Ewell, go see if anyone is inside.”

As Billy and Ewell climbed off their horses, Ithel holstered his pistol and slid out his knife.

Ithel held his knife taught against his chest as he listened as the crunch of Ewell’s feet on the sandy ground grew closer to the door.

When Ewell pushed back the rug and stepped inside the hogan, he was momentarily blinded by the smoke from the extinguished fire and the darkness, which was all the distraction Ithel needed. Like a scorpion stinging his prey, Ithel whipped his knife deep into Ewell’s chest. Then, he pulled it out, sheathed it, drew his pistol, and hopped through the door.

The middle horseman didn’t even have a chance to twitch towards his gun before Ithel put a bullet between his eyes.

“What the hell’s going—” started Billy as he walked out of the barn, but Ithel quickly ended that sentence and his life as he put a bullet into his head right above his ear.

After taking a minute to calm his pounding heart, Ithel said, “You can come out now.”

Slowly, Malia stepped outside and stared at the bodies on the ground. After a moment, Ithel asked, “Do you have any people nearby?”

She nodded, and Ithel asked, “How far?”

“About half a days ride.”

“Good, that means we should be able to get to them before nightfall.”

“We’re leaving?”

“I don’t have the strength to bury these guys, so unless you think you do. Yes, we’re leaving.”

“Are you sure you’ll--”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Pack up everything you want out of this place, and we’ll get out of here.”

Ithel waited for Malia to pack up everything she wanted including the dead men’s guns and valuables. Then, he hobbled to one of the dead men’s pre-saddled horses, grabbed its horn, and with a little hop pulled himself up and onto the horse. After Malia took one last look at her home, they headed off.

As the sun was setting the road up to the top of a hill over looking a small homestead with smoke coming out of its chimney.

“Are these your people?” asked Ithel.

She nodded.

Ithel said, “You can spend the night here, but then you all need to keep moving.”

“Why?”

“There will be more people like those three, and your people don’t want to be here when they do?”

“Where should we go?”

Ithel said, “I don’t know. I just know its not safe here.” Then, he turned to go back the way they’d came.

“Where are you going?”

“I have my own journey to take.”

“You don’t want to at least spend the night?”

Ithel shook his head and started to ride away as she called out, “What about some of these guns?”

Ithel looked back over his shoulder and said, “Keep ‘em. You’re going to need them.”

Ithel road and road as the large nearly full moon climbed across the sky lighting his way. Finally as the night was nearly at its end, Ithel found what he was looking for.

He climbed awkwardly done off his horse and crouched done next to Keekuk’s body. Then, he closed Keekuk’s lifeless eyes. Ithel didn’t know what Keekuk believed in, and Ithel had long since given up on understanding the gods. But, he understand the solemnity of death, and he wanted to honor Keekuk for saving his life. So, he said a silent thanks to Keekuk and hoped whatever god were listening would appreciate it.

Then, Ithel began to gather rocks to cover Keekuk with. He knew it wasn’t as good as burying him the earth, but it was the best he could do.

Ithel worked hopping on his one good leg and carrying rocks with his one good arm as the sun came up driving away the last vestiges of night and cool and continued until the sun had started its trip back towards the horizon.

After Ithel placed the last rock, he wiped the sweat of his forehead and took one last look at the barren but beautiful landscape around him. Then, he hobbled to his horse, climbed on, and headed towards the setting sun and the unknown.