started inside. She was instinctively listening, wrapping her thoughts around the faint impressions that seemed to swirl in the sunset light.
The hair on the back of her neck lifted.
The feeling was very, very faint, but it told her there was definitely something nearby. Maybe it was just the land, vast and naked and hard, and there was truth to the idea of earth spirits-looking around her now, Cree could easily believe that the shadowed rocks were inhabited.
At this early stage it was vague, a subliminal sensation like the tingling of the skin that signaled an approaching electrical storm or the feeling of being watched when there was no one nearby. She wondered if this was what livestock felt when they sensed an impending earthquake, hours before seismic sensors did. Have to talk to Ed about that, she thought, the earthquake thing. Another geomagnetic connection with psi phenomena. She pictured Ed's long, agreeable face, and suddenly she missed him terribly, missed Seattle and the clean light over the Sound and the hubbub of First Avenue and Joyce's no-nonsense, upbeat attitude.
'Are you okay?' Julieta watched askance as she hesitated on the walkway.
'Fine,' Cree said. 'Sorry. Just… thinking of something.'
They didn't find anyone inside the infirmary building, but Julieta said she knew where Dr. Tsosie and Tommy must be. 'We've been trying to keep him busy. He enjoys taking care of my horses, so Joseph is probably helping him do the night feeding out at the corral. Our nurse, Lynn Pierce, is probably using the time to get some dinner for herself at the cafeteria. You'll meet her later.'
Julieta led Cree down a hall to a six-bed ward room on the right side of the building. They switched on some lights and dropped Cree's gear next to one of the beds, then went out through a rear door to a pleasant backyard, where the L of the house, a trellis, another couple of cottonwood trees, and a small, separate barn created a sense of enclosure. The flagstone walk split around a well-maintained circular garden centered on a group of sandstone benches; to the left, beyond the trellis, a bathhouse stood over the turquoise-painted swimming pool, drained now. To the right, extending beyond the barn, a rail fence wrapped about four acres. A few hundred yards east, the near cliffs of the mesa glowed orange as if lit from inside. In every other direction, the land stretched empty to the horizon.
'Do you ride?' Julieta asked.
'Not for quite a few years. Took lessons at camp for a couple of summers, once in a blue moon since, that's about it.'
'You're welcome to come with me sometime, if you're here for a while. They need the exercise, and I've been too busy recently.'
Standing together at the far end, the three horses turned their heads as Julieta opened the gate. At first there was no sign of Dr. Tsosie or Tommy, but after a moment Cree spotted two figures approaching from the northern curve of the mesa, half a mile off in the watery red light.
The horses crossed the corral, two fine chestnut mares and a black gelding with a distinctive yin-yang blaze on his forehead. They nuzzled Cree's hands with soft noses, gave her mild glances with their long-lashed eyes, and turned their attention to Julieta. They looked expectant.
'Looks like they haven't been fed,' Julieta explained. 'Maybe you could help me. We should do it while there's still light.'
They walked between the high round rumps to the barn, where Julieta opened the door to the feed room.
'If you could keep them out of my hair-' Julieta said.
Leaving Cree at the door, she went into the room, hit a light switch, and began rummaging among feed bins. Cree stood with the horses, feeling a little overwhelmed by their size and warmth. They crowded toward the door, pushing their long heads past her to look inside. When she put her hands against the great slabs of their necks and pushed back, she was amazed at how hard the muscles were beneath their coats. They smelled like sun-dried grass, good leather, and sweet honeycomb.
'Hang on, kids,' Julieta called as she scooped grain into three dented aluminum pans. 'It's coming. Hang on.'
A moment later she came out with the grain pans and pushed through the horses. They clumped after her into the middle of the corral and began munching as soon as she put the pans down. Dr. Tsosie and Tommy were closer now; the boy had his hands in his pockets and he scuffed at the ground as he walked. Instinctively, Cree's every nerve awoke and craned toward him, her senses alert for the buzz and tremble, the hidden turbulence, of a paranormal presence. She found only ambiguity. Or maybe it was 'interference,' as Ed liked to call it: Every space was loaded with divergent energies, multiply haunted by the residual echoes of human experience accumulating through time. Perhaps it was just the welter of ambient impressions, a spray of vague auras and sparks, that obscured her sense of whatever lived in Tommy. Or maybe when his symptoms were in remission it literally wasn't there.
Julieta broke into her thoughts. 'Would you mind helping me with the hay?'
'Love to.'
Occupied with their grain, the horses stayed put as Cree and Julieta went back to the barn. The bales were stacked to the ceiling along one side of the feed room, and Cree helped muscle one of them down. She sneezed in the dust as Julieta cut the twine and pulled it away.
Very quietly, Julieta said, 'The idea of possession terrifies me.'
'No kidding.'
'Does that mean you and Dr. Ambrose believe in… demons? Evil beings who want to… whatever they want to do-corrupt and hurt the innocent, conquer the world for Satan?'
Julieta began pulling at the bale, separating it into smaller blocks of hay. She worked efficiently, but her hands were shaking as they clawed at the brittle strands.
'I haven't seen Tommy yet, but if there's one thing we need to get past at the outset it's images and ideas from pop culture or folklore. I don't believe there's an evil mastermind behind supernatural phenomena. I don't believe in purely evil beings of any kind, for that matter. 'Satan' is a concept people created to make it easier to rationalize the difficult or painful things that happen. The demonic thing is strictly a European, Christian outlook. I tend to go with Freud, who said we should treat ghosts with respect and neutrality, help patients come to terms with them and make them benign. Whatever this entity is, I wouldn't assume it's evil.'
'Then what is this goddamned thing? Why does it want to hurt Tommy?' Julieta's voice cracked, and she glanced back at the door as if afraid the boy would overhear.
Cree felt her breath flutter shallowly at the base of her throat as Julieta's fear leaped into her. 'It may not 'want' anything. Ghosts are usually caught up in compulsions-they're seldom conscious of the existence of the current world, let alone the ways their actions affect the living.'
Julieta looked dubious as she finished separating the hay, setting out two flakes for each horse. When she'd made three piles, she gathered up an armful and headed for the door. Cree took the rest and followed her past the munching animals to set out the hay near a water tank at the middle of the enclosure. As Julieta bent to fluff the packed flakes, she frowned up at the approaching figures of Dr. Tsosie and Tommy.
'I should tell you that even though he's the one who recommended we go to Dr. Ambrose, Joseph is having a hard time with this.'
' 'This' meaning me.'
'It's not personal. Joseph is Navajo. He was born on the rez and has lived here all his life except when he went to college. He's an excellent doctor, went to Johns Hopkins. He chose to come back to a job as an underpaid rural GP because he felt his skills were needed here. He wanted to help his people.'
A man on a mission, Cree was thinking. Not unlike Julieta. So the three of us have something in common.
The black gelding had finished his grain and was coming toward them for the hay. A hundred yards away, Dr. Tsosie raised an arm to block the sunset light, watching them as he and the boy walked.
Julieta rubbed the glossy neck as the horse bent to pull at the hay with his soft lips. 'It's a cultural issue. Joseph often has to deal with problems created by the old ways of treating sickness. He isn't opposed to a patient having a Way sung, or taking traditional herbs, as long as people also come to him early on. But too often he gets patients who've spent months doing ceremonials and other cures and have come to Joseph too late-after their cancer has spread too far, or they're dying of pneumonia or bubonic plague. Or they've got pregnancy complications
