~ Shadows Of The Moon... Dancing ~

by

Jim Green

Roddy sat high on the pile of stones stacked on the floor like cannon fodder. From behind the front wall, it would be easy to drop the fist sized and larger boulders over the edge on any adversary trying to climb the steps. There would absolutely be no other way up.

The sun had dropped hours earlier into the mesa on the distant horizon, and for Roddy, the darkness would be protection for a while. Later, the moon would rise and he could see more clearly again, but until the moon shone full on the face of the high embankment, only his ears could give him a true sign.

Many feet below the base of the cliff, near the beginning of the foot and handholds, Roddy saw movement. Not a person... too big, he thought gauging the scarcely discernible shadow. As it moved from the cliff into the trees, the faint black silhouette rose to a standing position, expelling a blood curdling roar that sent guttural sounds throughout the canyon. Kiki came to Roddy from the blackness of the dwellings.

“Can you see that, Kiki?” responded Roddy. “There’s something down there, something huge. What is it?”

Kiki stood silent while the cry of the high desert wind whistled through the cracks and crevices, the cottonwood and juniper, the doors and windows of the ancient cliff dwelling that provided protection for Maria and Joepy.

“What do you think it is, Kiki? Sounds really scary!” Roddy mechanically picked up a cabbage sized boulder as the ancients had done to protect their home.

“She’s here. She’s been following me for weeks. She’ll kill the horses.”

“She?” Roddy questioned. “What do you mean, she?”

“The witch--the shape shifter--called up by the Evil One...”

Before Kiki completed his sentence, another great roar echoed across the mesas and through the canyons. The two youths could hear the terrorized whinnying of the horse and mule that were hidden in the distant pinions.

“It’s old man Rockwall’s doings; I’m sure of it. I have to face her once and for all, Roddy!” Kiki disappeared into the darkness, returning with Jojo Morgan’s rifle. “I’m going down.”

Roddy grabbed Kiki’s arm. “You’re not going down there. That’s a crazy-acting giant bear.” He paused. “Or something!”

“For many years she’s caused lots of trouble to people I care about, and I’m gonna kill her once and for all.”

“That can’t be the same bear from the Yassies’ and the trading post. We’re more than a day’s ride away. And you’re surely not thinking that’s the same bear that killed Jojo Morgan’s wife forty years ago, are you?”

“It’s her. There’s no other way, my friend. It’s my duty to protect my family. This time she’s after Maria or the baby or both. Jojo lost his son; the Yassies lost theirs; it’ll not happen again. I’m going.”

Before the young man began his descent into the blackness of the canyon floor, Roddy pulled the ceremonial bear claw from his pocket.

“Kiki, take this.” Roddy handed the ancient talisman to his friend. When Kiki touched it, he knew what it was.

“Thanks,” he said, “maybe it will help.”

Kiki had barely begun his descent when he stopped. “Roddy?” he called.

“Yeah?”

“If I don’t come back, take care of Maria and little Joepy. Get them as far away from the Reservation as you can. Promise me.”

Roddy shook his head, knowing Kiki couldn’t see him standing there in the darkness. Finally he spoke, “I will, Buddy, but you’ll be back; I’m sure of it.”

For Roddy, the next hour seemed forever. Sounds came accentuated to his ears with the music of the enemy playing on his imagination. Several times he heard the roar of the giant bear, and once, the terrorized cry of their animals told him the bear had made a kill. Through the whistling of the wind, Roddy strained his every sinew to pull from the sounds something that told him Kiki was okay. He couldn’t find it.

Then, a rifle shot echoed through the night, and another and another. Crashing and flailing in the short timber below heightened Roddy’s concern. There came the sounds of something huge--a horse or a bear--splashing through the stream and, in the distance, the drumming of hooves galloping away in the darkness.

All grew quiet; even the whistling wind began to subside. Nothing came from below except a gentle rustle--something sliding through the brush. The moon had cracked the horizon on top of the mesas, sending beams scooting across the land. Soon Roddy saw a shadow on the canyon floor. It moved at the foot of the red wall mesa. Instinctively, he hefted the largest boulder he could handle. High over his head he held it, ready to crush any enemy.

The breathing told him Kiki was slowly climbing the wall. When he reached the top, Roddy grabbed him to steady him. The sticky wetness said Kiki had been hurt. His clothes hung frayed, and he had no rifle.

“It’s finished!” Kiki staggered into Roddy’s arms.

“My god, man, are you okay?” Roddy helped Kiki sit.

“She’s dead, my friend. She’ll not bother any of us again.” Kiki fell into the sand on the floor of the cave.

With water and bandages for Kiki’s wounds, Roddy did the best he could with no light. It was obvious the young Navajo needed stitches in numerous places, but both knew that would have to wait. In a while, Kiki found the blankets and rested.