“Puye Prophecy” was a 2,500-word short story from eight years ago that blossomed to over 18,000 words under the guidance of the Relentless Wench Muse, who manages to remain just out of reach. Kat hits the road to Phoenix to visit her sister. No spoiler here, but Kat is in for an adventure she could never anticipate when spirits become more than dreams. Enjoy!
Peace! G.
Puye Prophecy
Chapter 4 – On the Road
Two days later, Kat, packed for three days, pulled out of the apartment complex, locked and loaded with thoughts of a good visit with her sister. Even though by only six years, being the younger sister held no advantages or, for that matter, disadvantages. They had always joked and played around with each other, and neither of them felt offended. Should a battle break out over something that morphed into a BDD (big damn deal), they agreed to handle them without delay. They shared a commitment to pursue solutions without bloodshed or property damage. Their battles were only permitted to be over the point of disagreement, not the party disagreeing. That meant being loud was okay, but spread no lies…and keep your hands to yourself as sisters should.
They loved each other and were long overdue for a visit. Their relationship had improved since their mother passed, with mutual promises to stay in touch and try to engage more in each other’s lives. This trip was an opportunity to engage and quite possibly test the limits of their spirit of mutual commitment, but neither knew just how tested their commitment might be.
Temperatures were already blistering in Lewisville, TX, pushing 98 degrees despite the sun barely peaking over the horizon at 7:00 AM. The limo’s air conditioning pumped a nice chill into the vehicle’s cabin as she navigated south on I-35E to Interstate 20 and pointed her ride westward; fifteen-plus hours later, she should roll into Phoenix. Fifteen hours if nothing interfered, and something would interfere that would change Kat’s life.
The way westward was long, hot, and flat for most of Texas. After five hours of driving in what seemed to her like a straight line, the scenery evolved slowly from partially green to a gritty, primarily dusty khaki terrain dotted with clumps of mesquite and the occasional dead armadillo that failed to cross the road safely. The terrain became stark and barren except for scant scrub vegetation. Some people said the desert was beautiful. Kat could not get beyond khaki and gritty and would rather be in the mountains of North Carolina or on a beach someplace.
As she drove, her mind imagined their conversation where she’d begin with the details of her most recent dreams as a priority. If they had the time, they would swap current job debriefs, a short list of those you’d like to kill or torture, and general bitching and moaning. Of course, none of this would happen until they split half a joint and shared at least one glass of wine. A smile crossed her lips as she daydreamed about how they would greet each other after too much time since their last visit.
After several hours headed west on I-20 and three Lucinda Williams CDs later, a personal situation interrupted her dislike of the Texas terrain. Kat needed to pee and thought picking up a cold glass of iced tea in the next few minutes would make for a perfect pit stop. The next exit answered the call with a sign that indicated gas and food were available, and she decided to stop. At the bottom of the exit ramp, she questioned her judgment as she rolled to a stop. The service station doubled as the only food source and looked ancient and weather-beaten. The sign standing out front showed a green dinosaur over a faded Sinclair script underneath. She remembered these stations from her youth and felt like this one must have fallen through a crack in time.
She pulled into the partially paved parking lot with a few scattered weeds growing through cracks in the pavement and relaxed after seeing a sign in the window that promised Ice Cold Drinks next to another neon sign saying they were OPEN. All was good, and she threw the limo into park adjacent to the fuel pumps and switched off the ignition.
Upon leaving the car, a young native American boy, maybe fourteen or so, dashed up to her and asked, “Can I fill ‘er up, lady?”
Wow! she thought…Full service, too. “Yes, please, fill ‘er up,” she said pleasantly, mimicking his energetic speech.
“Check ‘er oil too?” he asked.
She nodded, “Good idea, and check ‘er oil too.”
Kat looked toward the little building, hoping it held something to quench her thirst, and asked, “Do you think I could get a cold glass of iced tea inside?”
The boy beamed, “Oh yes, ma’am! My granny can fix you up just fine…coldest iced tea in Texas.”
Kat grinned, “Well, it can’t get any better than that now, can it?”
“No, ma’am. You go on inside, and I’ll take good care of your ride.”
As she turned toward the building, she noticed again that the place suffered from an overdose of West Texas weather. The sun-bleached paint peeled in many areas, and a small rust-pocked welcome sign hung over the door from a couple of short chains that squeaked in protest from the gentle breeze. The exterior door had a battered wooden screen from another era, and Kat wondered if there was ever a time of year in this climate when a screen door itself would serve any purpose other than fending off large, winged insects.
The spring on the old screen door groaned in protest as only rusty springs could, with hinges squawking in harmony as she pulled it open. When she turned the knob on the interior door and stepped into the room, the interior was as dark as a cave. Standing still momentarily in the gloom, she hesitated to allow her eyes to adjust from the blazing sun outside, and, to her satisfaction, a small diner slowly appeared in the dim light.
A tiny, weathered voice came from behind a short counter on the far wall with three stools rooted in front of it. “Oh good! You are now here. Come in, dear! I have some nice cold iced tea waiting for you.”
Kat’s brain kicked in instantly with questions that she began to fire at the old woman with a demanding tone bordering on hostility: “What? Wait, WHAT? Oh good, I am HERE now? Like you were expecting me to drop out of the blue magically? Did I ask for tea? No, I did not, so how did you know I wanted iced tea? I never said a word to you. What the hell is going on here?”
Her questions rained down, and she did not wait for answers to any of them. Kat stood there trying to catch her breath from the rant, dumbfounded and slack-jawed; she stammered, “How did you know I was coming? How did…”
Her eyes now fully adjusted to the lower light. Kat could clearly see a stooped and shriveled old native American woman who stood about five foot nothing behind the counter, with a disarming smile, and gesturing to one of the stools. Her face held a kind smile framed with thick braids of long black hair woven with multi-colored beads dangling on either side of her head. As Kat stepped closer, she saw rich brown, leathery skin with deep lines earned from hard living, years of toil, an unforgiving sun, dry winds, and general West Texas exposure. Her eyes were a striking pale blue and communicated a comforting smile. Kat fell into them before deciding the woman was ancient and harmless. She told herself to back off and listen to what hopefully would answer her barrage of questions.
“It’s okay, dear. Big Crow with Little Feet told us you were coming today. You have the spirit of…”
“WHAT?” demanded Kat, bagging the shut up and listen posture, “Big Crow with…WHAT?” she repeated with more volume than necessary, “What’s going on? Why is this happening to me?”
“You have been expected for many years,” the old woman continued, ignoring Kat’s questions. “We are so happy the time has now come.”
“EXPECTED?” Kat exploded again. “Time for WHAT?” Her volume had increased along with an unsettled feeling growing in her gut. Fight or flight could become the question she thought she’d have to consider soon.
Kate was beyond flustered and stumbled into loud protest: “Look, I’ve NEVER been here before, and there’s no way you or Big Crow with…little…whatever…have been waiting for years on my arrival on this exact day. Explain THAT to me. This is crazy, and somebody has made a very big mistake.”
The old woman quietly shuffled from behind the counter and held out an icy mug of tea. Kat made no move to accept it. “Please, dear, enjoy the tea,” she placed the mug on the counter and said, “Have a seat, and I will explain everything…and dear, no one has made a mistake. Prophesy has predicted your arrival, and Big Crow with Little Feet told me this morning it would be this day upon which the honored one would arrive here.”
Kat hesitated before accepting the mug of tea. It took her several more seconds to sit down on the middle stool. She could not wrap her head around any of this. Now, she was the honored one? What next? Part of her considered bailing out the door and hitting the road without the coldest tea in Texas. The best thing about this place would be leaving it…and putting many miles between them. Why was she still there?
The old woman slowly walked over and perched on the stool next to Kat. She lightly touched Kat’s forearm, sitting close enough for her incredible eyes to make a connection. At that moment, it seemed impossible to break away from her hypnotic, pale blue gaze, yet the old woman’s eyes did not prompt any fear or apprehension. Kat slowly relaxed her shoulders and brought the tea to her lips. It honestly could have been the coldest iced tea in Texas.
“I am Desert Wind Song,” the old woman began softly, “and carry the blood and spirit of the Puebloan Indians of the Puye from many, many seasons ago. You are safe here, and no harm will come to you.” She smiled and tilted her head. “And you are called…?”
For some reason, this old woman had completely disarmed Kat’s concerns and replaced the urgency of all her questions with a comfortable warmth emanating from her hypnotic eyes. Kat returned her smile and said, “I’m Katherine Jackson…but I go by Kat.”
“Kat is who you are, dear, but there is another here with you,” the old woman said softly.
“No,” said Kat calmly, “I’m here alone. I’m driving out to Phoenix to visit my sister for a few days. I only stopped here to fill my gas tank and enjoy a cold drink.”
“All of what you say is true, dear, but there is something more I must share with you that you do not know,” she said, her eyes gleaming like welcoming dark pools of truth, and she continued to speak slowly. “You are the Duwit chonah mowna jawneek.”
Kat rocked back and stared at her in shock. “I’m WHAT? WHO?”
“You are the honored one. Big Crow with Little Feet spoke of you as the honored one who would come here this day carrying her spirit.”
“What do you mean honored? What? Who’s spirit? I don’t understand what you…” Kat sputtered.
“Dear, you are honored to have the companion spirit of an ancient princess from Puye with you. Her name is Dew on Flowers,” the old woman explained.
“For many years, the spirit of Eagle Shadow has searched for his beloved princess to consummate the marriage they were denied so many years ago. Big Crow with Little Feet described these events as fulfilling the prophecy of the Puye that lives today. You are to help complete their journey to find one another.”
That news flash took Kat by total surprise. She’d never heard of Puye in any form until the second dream two days earlier. The mug of iced tea came down with a little more force than she intended and began to rise. The second dream flooded back as she made the connection, remembering the conversation between the three women around the fire. Everything that had happened here was connected to her dreams somehow. Another loose end, and Kat had had enough and started to rise.
Halfway off the stool, her legs buckled, and she collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll with no control over her body. Breath burst from her chest, replaced immediately with jerking inhalations chased by a surging sense of arousal. This time, she knew the connection was real because she was there. This time, she was wide awake, and this time, her body burned as exploding sensations of deep sexual intimacy overwhelmed her. The fragmented memories of the dream details she could not remember took on became crystal clear as increasing waves of pleasure pulsed through her like wildfire, blown by a fierce wind. It felt like she was falling or flying, weightless, and in an instant, everything peaked. She plunged over the edge of what little control she had left and thrashed into a raging sexual climax, stiffening, then arching her back, vibrating like a strummed chord of completion as the waves of ecstasy began to diminish.
Kat lay gasping on the floor, stunned, and fought to speak. “What…the…hell…just…happened? Something swept through me and just…just…”
There it was. She smelled it again…fire, yes…wood smoke…the smell filled her senses. She was awake; that smell was the same as every previous time, and then it disappeared again.
The old woman remained seated and smiled down at her. Once again, she said, “You are Duwit chonah mowna jawneek. The princess’s spirit, Dew on Flowers, is strong in you. You just felt the depths of her longing as she seeks her soulmate, Eagle Shadow.”
“Hang on.” Kat’s hands came back up to stop everything. “Soulmate?…Who?…Eagle what?” Kat, still lying prone, put her hands over her eyes and shook her head in disbelief, struggling with the aftereffects of an intense, very sudden, and intimate sensory overload. She fought to sit up but gave in to exhaustion and remained on the floor as the old woman continued the story.
“The legend of Eagle Shadow is many, many years old. He was to marry the princess but died during the hunt in preparation for their wedding feast. He died at the hands of the blue legs, and they never married. The princess died as well under unknown circumstances. Legend says both were doomed and destined to wander through time until they found each other in the afterlife. You are here now carrying her spirit. You will make their journey complete.”
Kat huffed, “Ahh, no! That’s a sad, sad tale, but it has nothing to do with me. She slowly stood on wobbly legs and stepped unsteadily toward the door. “I think I’ve heard enough of your spirit fairy tale nonsense. I have to go. Thank you for the tea; it was wonderful, but I’m done with this shit show.”
The old woman began, “Dear, you will soon meet Big Crow with…”
“I think not,” Kat stopped her retreat and fired back. “Your Big Crow and his Little Feet will not meet me…nope…I will not be meeting any more of your kindred spirits. I am so very much OUT of here.”
Kat ripped open the door and pushed roughly through the screen leaving Desert Wind Song seated on the stool next to where Kat had been seated. The screen door creaked with its chorus as it swung wide and closed with a resounding snap.
The young boy greeted her, “Got ‘er ready for you, lady, she’s in good shape. She took $45 worth of gas and should treat you just fine.”
Kat dug three twenty-dollar bills out of her wallet and handed them to the kid. “Thank you so much,” she said, dismissing him without a look. All she wanted was to leave this place.
When she opened the door and got behind the wheel, the kid yelled, “How was the tea?”
“Coldest I’ve ever tasted. Probably the coldest in Texas,” she shouted back, forcing a smile onto her face that did not come easily.
The kid’s face glowed with pride, and he lifted a hand to wave goodbye. “Good luck with Big Crow…”
Kat never heard the rest of his words as she slammed the door shut, cranked the engine, and peeled away from the most bizarre experience she had encountered in her life. Puye princess, my ass, she thought as she flew up the entrance ramp to get back on I-20 West.
Kat tried to sort out what had just happened. There was an old woman talking nonsense about a spirit that she, yes, Katherine Jackson, was carrying to satisfy some ancient prophecy that made no fucking sense. That was all bull shit. She discounted it all, but then there were parts of the whole thing that she could not ignore. The orgasm that crushed her onto the floor was one for the record books. It was not just a slight arousal; something ripped through her with an intense passion she had never experienced. What about the smoke? Twice. Something in her said she had to discover the fire.
She replaced Lucinda’s CD with John Mayall for a different brand of blues and continued west into a sun threatening to become late afternoon. Her head spun with the events of the afternoon. Kat did not remember ever considering being possessed by a spirit other than the Holy Spirit. Could that even happen? She now had more questions that needed answers despite getting more than she originally bargained for…or even believed: Puye Princess, my ass.
This is shaping up to be an amazing tale with a bit of historical fiction woven in. I hope you enjoyed this little taste.
Peace! G.
gdogwise@live.com