Double Dose, page 8
(“A perfect partnership: I’m in charge of cures and you’re in charge of mumbo-jumbo.”)
“Right. But that’s why this curing-the-horrors thing has me on edge. I can’t say, ‘Just get out of the way and let your body heal itself,’ and then days later they’re cured. I’ve got to be right there with my hands on the patient when the cure goes down. And suddenly I’m a miracle worker. Or, à la the Pendry clan, a witch.”
(“We’ll figure out something.”)
“Let’s hope so. Now it’s time to get downstairs and open Healerina.”
The new front window was spotless, and the glazier had even rehung the Healerina banner front and center. The daylight through the window lit up the crystals and the geodes and the rest of the New Age junk.
“This is great,” she said, spreading her arms as she walked in. “It doesn’t look like a dungeon anymore.”
“Talking to yourself again?”
Daley turned to find Juana, bib denim overalls and all, standing in the doorway. This was the second time she’d caught her talking aloud to Pard. But she and Juana had something else to deal with right now.
“You!” Daley said, charging her. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”
Juana stood her ground. “Yes?”
(“She doesn’t look terribly surprised,”) Pard said.
The old Cahuilla woman had probably spoken to her sisters by now and they would have told her that her phony story had been outed, so she’d been no doubt expecting a little confrontation.
No matter. Daley needed to get this off her chest.
“I saw your sisters on Saturday and they told me your mother’s been dead for a long time.”
“This is true.”
“So that story about her being in the hospital with the horrors was all bullshit.”
“Obviously.”
“Which means you were stalking me.”
“I prefer to think of it as watching out for you…doing my duty.”
“To ‘help and guide’ me, right?”
“Right.”
Her calm expression and matter-of-fact tone were derailing Daley’s intended rant about being straight with each other.
“You could have told me what you were up to.”
“You would have thought I was a stalker and told me to get lost. I needed to keep watch and put you on the right path.”
“Path to where? Nespodee Springs?”
Juana waved her arms around. “Is it so bad?”
Daley glanced at Pard who’d assumed his position on the front window shelf like a bookstore cat waiting for a ray of sunlight.
Where do I go from here with her?
(“Maybe it’s time to start demanding answers to the tough questions.”)
Past time. Here goes.
“Okay, Juana. Time to come clean. You told me I was struck down by an alaret in that cave and how nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand victims die, but I didn’t. It turned a patch of my hair dead white. Blah-blah-blah. But there’s a bigger picture, isn’t there? You don’t camp out there by that cave just for the hell of it. No one else has ever heard of an alaret—you can’t find the word anywhere. So what’s going on, Juana? I want to know what you know—everything.”
Juana closed the door behind her, saying, “No one else needs to hear this.” Then she shrugged. “I don’t know everything. I don’t think anyone knows everything.”
Pard said, (“Ask her about me. Press her about alarets.”)
Must it always be about you?
(“We’re in this situation because of me.”)
Daley couldn’t argue with that.
She said, “Okay, then let’s stick with what you know. Like alarets. What the hell is an alaret? Where did they come from?”
“They’re from the gods.”
(“Divine origin!”) A halo suddenly glowed above his head. (“Knew it.”)
Be careful what you wish for.
“And just what gods would those be?”
“The gods who dwelled in the ancient ocean. They departed when the ocean dried up and they left the alarets behind.”
“But why did they leave them behind? To hang out in caves and drop on a poor unsuspecting girl’s head. Or were they just litter?”
(“Now that’s hurtful.”)
Sorry. It was just too easy. But what she’s saying dovetails with the film Note Man showed us. You’re related to the Visitors, which makes you…an alien.
She had an alien living in her brain. She’d gotten used to Pard—grown fond of him, to be honest—but when she put it like that…
“I don’t know,” Juana was saying. “The fables don’t tell. But they say anyone who survives an alaret is very special.”
“What fables?”
“We have traditional fables in my family—not true Cahuilla tribal fables, but specific to my family, and somehow related to our dwelling for so many generations in what used to be the bottom of a sea.” She looked into Daley’s eyes. “Your coming was foretold.”
“You’re talking about that Cahuilla art stone—the one with the drawing that looked like me?”
Juana had shown Daley the stone just before she’d opened Healerina: a drawing of a crude, vaguely androgynous face framed by black braids. Daley might have written it off as typical native stone art except for the white patch in the hair at the top of its head.
“It’s not just the image. The story that goes with it tells of a wondrous healer.”
That struck a little too close to home.
“A healer, huh? Is that why you pushed me to get out of LA and come here to open this place?”
“As I recall, I did not bring up healing. I saved you from a bunch of ladies who thought you could cure their ills. And then the matter of your hand…you told me then that the yellow color was left over from your injury. But as I watched and waited in the hospital after your accident, word was out that your ‘injury’ was so severe they couldn’t save your hand…had to amputate…and yet…” She pointed to Daley’s golden left hand. “There is it.”
Daley raised it and rotated it back and forth.
What do I say…?
(“You could tell her the report of your hand’s death has been greatly exaggerated.”)
Yeah, probably best. I don’t see any other options.
(“You could try the truth.”)
Nah.
“You should know by now, Juana, that you can’t believe everything you hear.”
“What I do know is that it was foretold that a healer will come to us in a time of need.” She pointed again to Daley’s hand. “You healed yourself when you had to, and now you must meet your destiny of healing others.”
Destiny…now there’s one scary word.
(“Don’t let her sidetrack you with generalities. Stay on topic.”)
“But why am I here, Juana?”
“You told me you wanted to try healing. And so I suggested Nespodee Springs.”
(“There’s got to be more to it than that,”) Pard said. (“I get the feeling she’s holding back.”)
That makes two of us.
“But why Nespodee Springs, Juana?”
She shrugged again. “It’s small, out of the way—”
“No-no-no,” Daley said, wagging her finger. “That’s not going to fly anymore. This looks like just another desert town built around a hot spring, but it’s more than that, isn’t it. There’s a lot more going on here than meets the eye, isn’t there. I mean, this place is a freaking mishmash of cross-currents.”
(“You’re mixing metaphors.”)
And you’re interrupting.
Juana said, “But—”
“No buts. The Pendrys are rich and crazy as loons—’away with the fairies’ as my Gram likes to say. Rhys is okay but the rest? They dress like Mennonites or whatever and they home school everybody and they tell their kids I’m a witch and to stay away from me. Well, that’s fine with me, but you’ve got to admit it’s really, really weird.”
(“Actually, only the Pendry women have a Mennonite look. The men—”)
Zip it. I’m on a roll here.
“And the Tadhaks? The whole family lives behind a ten-foot wall of rock-hard mocha whipped cream and none of them are ever seen close up except for Jason, because when they’re trundled back and forth to work at the family windfarm they’re hidden away inside that creepy white bus with its super-tinted windows. Does anyone know for sure if there’s really anyone on that bus?
“And as long as we’re on the subject of the windfarm, we’ve got one family harvesting the wind and the other family with a huge solar array. What’s with this fixation on electricity? Between the Pendrys and Tadhaks, they could light up San Diego.”
(“Well, actually that’s not—”)
Zip!
“And then there’s the Pendry’s Tesla tower. It’s a couple hundred feet above ground and anchored hundreds of feet into the Earth and they funnel all sorts of electricity into it for huge light shows. I mean really, what’s going on here? Oh, and on the subject of ‘going on,’ what’s going on between you and Jason? You two seem to have an awfully cozy relationship. Something going on there I should know about? Why am I here, Juana? Why did you choose this place out of all the small towns in Southern California? Why the hell am I in Nespodee fucking Springs?”
Daley stopped to take a breath. She’d worked herself up a little more than she’d realized.
“Very well,” Juana said softly. “I don’t know how you’ll take this, but Nespodee Springs has long been known to us as a place of power.”
“Those are just words, Juana. ‘Power’? What kind of power? What does that mean?”
“I wish I knew. There’s a tradition that some lines of magic converge here—not as many as in the Salton Sea, but enough to matter. The Salton is too strong. Here is better”
“‘Lines of magic’? What if I don’t believe in magic?”
Another of Juana’s shrugs. “It might mean something else. The tradition has come down through the generations and that’s the word that came down to me.”
(“Her ‘magic’ lines could be analogous to ley lines.”)
Ley lines…why does that sound familiar?
(“I came across them in my late-night reading. It’s a New Agey belief that an energy grid encircles the globe, linking historic and supposedly sacred sites like Stonehenge, the Egyptian and Mayan pyramids, Native burial mounds in North America, and so on. Pure poppycock, of course. But I sense Juana believes her statement about lines of magic.”)
“Okay,” she said to Juana. “Doesn’t matter what I believe. You’re saying that you brought me to Nespodee Springs because these lines of magic converge here. Is that right?”
“Jason thought it would be a good place for you to gain power.”
“Jason? Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. How does Jason Tadhak get involved in my life?”
Juana sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Daley folded her arms and leaned back against a display counter. “I’ve got time.”
“The Tadhak family has lived in the valley as long as anyone can remember and have always had a good relationship with my people. Jason’s father was there to help after the 1940 quake damaged what little infrastructure exists at the Torres-Martinez Cahuilla reservation. I wasn’t alive then, but I was around for the quakes in 1968 and ’79 and ’81, and the two last month, of course.”
“Help? You mean financially? Where does he get his money? Not from rentals in Nespodee Springs, I’m sure.”
“Batteries. The Tadak family makes dry-cell batteries for all the major companies, and have patents on energy storage technology. They’re quite wealthy, I’m told. They supplied us with hundreds of free batteries when our power was down. During his involvement, Jason became familiar with my family and its fables. When I told him that I thought the healer we have waited for might have come, he said to bring you here and he would take care of you.”
“Take care of me? I’m not so sure I like the sound of that.”
Juana gestured around. “You have a place to display your wares—and yourself, do you not? You have a place to live. You have made friends.”
And enemies, as well, she thought.
“You even have a lover,” Juana added.
“Oh, hell. Does everybody know about that? I mean, it was one night.”
“My point is: Life had been good to you since you came to Nespodee Springs, hasn’t it?”
Obviously she doesn’t know about Karma Kendrick.
(“Obviously. But I’m a little concerned about your being identified with this messianic prophesy. Events tend not to work out well for messiahs.”)
Well, I’ve already been murdered. I figure it’s got to be all uphill from there.
(“Don’t be so sure.”)
Now who’s Little Miss Sunshine?
“Yes, Juana, I have to admit I like the place.”
“Then why are you so angry at me?”
“I’m not angry. I know you only meant well. I just don’t like being lied to.”
(“Yes. You prefer to do the lying.”)
Exactly.
But she wasn’t through with Juana.
“A minute ago you said Jason thinks Nespodee Springs is a good place for me to ‘gain power.’ What does that mean?”
“Jason believes in the ancient tales of converging lines of magic. Or at least he says he does. He thought this was a place where you could come into your own and hone your healing powers.”
“Who says I have healing powers?”
Juana’s look became reproachful. “You know you do. I know you do. Those women in LA know you do. Deputy Alvarez is convinced you do. You may want to deny it to others, but don’t deny it to me.”
What do I say here?
(“Well, as she says, it seems futile to deny it to her. She knows too much.”)
But I can minimize it.
“It’s not as magical as you might think, Juana. I can do certain things but there’s lots of limitations.”
Juana nodded. “Okay. I can see how that would be true. Which brings me to why I came today. I assume you’ve heard about the cure in El Centro yesterday.”
Uh-oh.
“The horrors victim? Sure, who hasn’t?”
“I know Monday is your day off. Were you in the medical center yesterday? Did you cure that man?”
(“You can’t say ‘yes.’ Not yet.”)
I know.
“I’m going to put it to you this way, Juana: I am honestly not sure yet if I can cure the horrors.”
She stared at Daley for a long time, then gave a slow nod. “Very well. I accept that. When will you be sure, if ever?”
The answer seemed important to her. Maybe some members of her tribe had been struck down.
“Within the next few days, I hope.”
“That is good.” She opened the door. “I need to get back to my people now. I will be watching.”
Daley had to laugh. “Oh, I’ve no doubt of that.”
22
Rhys stopped by Cadoc’s room on his way to bed.
He’d spent the day shuttling back and forth between the Lodge and the solar array. With no foreman, somebody had to oversee the crew and make sure the power inverters maintained their AC output.
Goddam, he was beat. He blamed it more on stress than physical exertion, although he was the first to admit he was woefully out of shape. Whatever, he was hitting the hay early tonight.
He’d called Daley earlier to touch base to explain how he’d be tied up for the next few days until he found a replacement for Kendrick and she’d been okay with that. Maybe too okay for his liking, but she explained that she was working on a project of her own, though she’d been cagey when he pressed for details. She said she’d tell him all about it when she’d wrapped up it up.
But before he got some rack time, he wanted to check on his big brother.
The door opened two inches in response to his knock. All was dark in the room and the hall was fairly dim as well, so he saw nothing.
“Got a minute, Cad?”
The door opened wider and Rhys slipped through. It closed behind him, leaving him in total darkness. No problem. He was used to this.
“I didn’t want to ask out in the hall because you said to tell no one, but how’s the voice? Still working?”
“Yesss.”
“Great! You’ve been exercising it?”
“Yesss.”
“And you still don’t want me to say anything?”
“No-no-no!”
“Hey, that’s two words now. I’m so happy for you, Cad. I can’t tell you how good this makes me feel.”
The invisible hand that squeezed his shoulder in the darkness said more than any words ever could.
23
“That’s the place,” Daley said as she stared at her laptop screen. “Bracco Medical Equipment.”
(“It’s down in Calexico,”) Pard said. (“There’s got to be someplace in El Centro that sells surgical scrubs.”)
“Don’t want El Centro. Don’t want to leave any trail to trace me.”
(“Speaking of traces, do I detect a trace of paranoia? That’s my department. Anyway, we’re not planning to rob a bank, we’re simply going to walk into a hospital.”)
“Not just ‘walk in.’ I’m going to be impersonating a member of the staff. Do you know the kind of grief coming down on me if I get caught, what with all this paranoia about opioids and such? What’s my explanation? ‘Oh, I just popped in to cure a few horrors patients.’ Yeah, that’ll fly.”
(“Point taken. I just—”) A knock on her door interrupted him. (“Three guesses who that is.”)
It’s been forty-eight hours since you did your thing. Do you think…?
(“Only one way to find out.”)
Daley shut off her laptop and hurried to the kitchen where a note awaited on the floor inside the door.
Can I come in?
“Sure. You want the lights out again?”
Please
She doused the front room lights, followed by the kitchen overhead—the moon was waning so there wasn’t as much wash as before.
