The Ghost of Blackfeet Nation Page 9

Ellen’s fingers nearly slipped from the plastic indicator as it quickly moved to 1-8-9-1.

  “Are you doing that?” Father Gonzales asked Sue.

  “No,” she said. “I’d swear on a Bible, if you had one.”

  The priest looked suspiciously at Ellen.

  “I’d swear on one, too,” she said.

  The captain scoffed. “Yeah. Right.”

  “Ask another question,” the priest urged them.

  “Thank you, Alma,” Sue said. “To make sure we have the right Alma, could you tell us the name of your baby’s father?”

  The electric lantern over the captain’s head flickered as the plastic indicator spelled R-A-B-B-I-T.

  The priest shook his head. “Maybe you aren’t aware that you’re moving it.”

  Ellen shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Thank you, Alma,” Sue said. “Rabbit is missing. Do you know where his body is?”

  The planchette flew across the board to YES.

  The electric lantern flickered again before going out.

  “Hells bells,” the captain muttered. “Just what we need with the wind picking up.”

  He took the lantern from its hook and gave it a whack, but the light did not come back on. He reached into a compartment near the helm and took out a flashlight.

  Sue said, “Thank you, Alma. That’s good news. Is Rabbit’s body in this river?”

  The boat rocked sharply to the right, causing everyone to sway to one side in their seats. Once they regained their balance, Ellen and Sue returned their fingertips to the planchette indicator.

  Sue said, “Alma Marcello, is Rabbit in this river?”

  The planchette circled around the board and returned to YES.

  Sue and Ellen beamed at one another.

  “Will you lead us to him, Alma?” Ellen asked.

  The planchette circled around the board and returned to YES.

  “How will she do that?” Father Gonzales asked.

  “We’ll try the dousing rods again,” Ellen said.

  The boat rocked hard to one side again. Ellen held onto her seat until the boat steadied and she could reach into her bag for the rods. Then, as before, she held them in front of her, parallel to one another. With the rocking of the boat, they swung side to side, but she hoped they might still prove useful.

  “Alma Marcello,” she began. “As we move closer to the location of Rabbit’s body, please bring the rod tips together. As we move further away from it, please move the rod tips apart.”

  The boat engine quit idling. Ellen glanced over at the captain, who shifted the gear and turned the key. The engine turned but wouldn’t start. He tried again, twisting the key this way and that. He changed the gear, twisted the key. Then he pounded his fist on the dash.

  “The battery must be dead,” the captain said angrily. “I swear it’s a new battery. It must have been bad to begin with.”

  Ellen glanced nervously at her friends just as the dousing rods yanked on her arms. They didn’t cross together or push apart; instead, they pulled her toward the side of the boat, toward the northern shore.

  With her eyes wide and full of excitement, Ellen climbed to her feet. Sue moved into the aisle and out of the way as Ellen limped toward the door leading to the outer deck. Father Gonzales jumped up, handed off his candle, and followed her. When he opened the door, the wind howled against them. The pull on the roads was so strong that Ellen nearly lost her balance.

  The priest helped her to the side of the boat, where the dousing rods tugged her upper body over the rail, toward the river. Ellen’s stomach pressed hard against the rail as her arms stretched down toward the raging river.

  “Help!” Ellen cried. “They’re pulling me in!”

  Father Gonzales grabbed her waist with both hands and held onto her as he shouted, “Stop the boat!”

  “There’s no way to stop her,” the captain shouted. “And we’ll be ripped to shreds if I lower the anchor now!”

  The boat dipped sharply forward, plunging Ellen’s arms underwater.

  “Let go of the rods!” the priest shouted against the wind.

  “But this may be our only way to find Rabbit!” she shouted back.

  Just then, the other side of the boat lifted high in the air and tossed Ellen and the priest overboard.

  Ellen clung to the dousing rods as she fell through the dark, freezing water. She’d been afraid to let go, lest she lose her only chance of finding Rabbit; but now, feeling frozen to her core and desperately out of breath, she let them go and kicked and flailed toward the surface. Her tender ankle throbbed with pain. For a moment she felt transported, as if she had become trapped inside Weeping Wall.

  When she finally reached air, she sucked in water by mistake and coughed as she struggled to stay above the waves. The boat could barely be seen in the distance. Without a battery, it wouldn’t be coming for her anytime soon.

  She looked around for Father Gonzales.

  “Over here!” he cried.

  Beneath the dim light of the sliver of a moon, she saw him standing in waist-deep water about twenty yards away, waving his arms over his head. But he was west of her, and the river was carrying her in the opposite direction. She struggled against the current toward the grassy bank in the distance until her feet could finally reach the river floor. Then, trying her best not to overextend her sprained ankle, she limped toward land as the cold wind hurled her cardigan like a loose, flapping sail, behind her.

  Chapter Ten: The Lady of the River

  Later that night, Ellen sat wrapped in blankets before a warm fire in the rectory at Holy Family Mission. She sat in a wingback chair across from Father Gonzales, who had changed into clean attire—a sweater and trousers—and was washing and drying her clothes in the laundry room down the hall. They each sipped hot cups of coffee to warm their bones while they waited to hear back from the authorities about the Sinopah and its passengers.

  Ellen was worried sick. What if the boat had capsized and her friends had drowned?

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Father Gonzales asked her again. “Can’t I get you anything else? Perhaps something to eat?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just so thankful that one of your parishioners happened to be driving by. I don’t think I could have walked much further.”

  “Me, too.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Speaking of parishioners…something has just occurred to me.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “Father O’Brien and I have often exchanged stories about people who claim to have seen a lady on the river.”

  “A lady? What do they say about her?”

  “Interestingly, and perhaps not coincidentally, they describe her as a young nun standing on the surface of the river.”

  Ellen raised her brows. “Really? Oh, my gosh! Do you think they’re describing Sister Alma?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering.”

  “Has anyone reported anything else about her? Has she spoken to them?”

  He rubbed his chin. “They say she beckons them but doesn’t speak. They seem to have seen her at the same place—where the river turns south. That’s what’s been most convincing to Father O’Brien and me. People describe the exact same spot.”

  “Is it anywhere close to the spot where we fell in?”

  “It’s further east, actually.”

  “Oh.” Ellen was disappointed. If people had seen the lady at the exact spot where the rods pulled her under, then she would feel certain that Rabbit’s remains could be found there. “How many people have claimed to have seen her?”

  “Oh, dozens over the years. Father O’Brien and I were hoping it was the blessed mother.”

  “I suppose it could be.”

  “Yes, but I wonder…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you suppose it’s possible that the body of Rabbit might be lying below the river where those dousing rods pulled you and I overboard and that the body of Sister Alma might be found further east where
people have claimed to have seen the lady?”

  The corners of Ellen’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Yes, Father. I do think that’s possible.”

  Ellen was awakened by the ringing of a telephone. She opened her eyes to find that she’d fallen asleep in the wingback chair of the rectory, still bundled in blankets near the fire. Across from her, Father Gonzales, who had also fallen asleep, was opening his eyes and crossing the room to the landline phone.

  “Hello?” he said into the phone. A moment later, he said, “That’s great news. Thank you, Officer.”

  He hung up the phone and turned to Ellen with a smile. “They found the boat. Its passengers are safe. Your friends are on their way to your hotel now. Are you ready for me to drive you back?”

  “If my clothes are dry,” she said, as relief swept through her. “I would imagine they are by now.”

  The priest’s face turned bright red. “Oh, I’d forgotten. Of course. Please, follow me, and I’ll show you where you can dress.”

  Sue and Tanya were waiting for Ellen in the lobby of Glacier Park Lodge. As soon as Father Gonzales helped her through the lobby door, she was accosted by their eager embraces.

  “Thank God!” Tanya cried.

  “We were so worried!” Sue said. “We were sure you were dead.”

  “Well, as you can see, we’re alive and well,” Ellen said with a laugh. “I’m relieved to see you safe and sound, too. What a night!”

  “What an adventure,” Father Gonzales said. “I suppose the next step would be to hire divers to search for the bodies.”

  “Yes,” Sue agreed. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you, Father?”

  “Now that I think of it, I do know a parishioner who’s a certified diver. I’ll give him a call in the morning.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Ellen said, squeezing the priest’s hands. “Thank you for everything.”

  “And please keep us posted on the search,” Tanya asked.

  “Can you make it to your room from here?” Father Gonzales asked Ellen.

  “Yes, thanks again. You go home and try to get some sleep. We’ll do the same.”

  The Jesuit priest left with a wave, and Ellen was helped by Sue and Tanya to the lobby elevators.

  “What a night,” Tanya said, echoing Ellen.

  “Oh, here’s your purse,” Sue said, handing the shoulder bag over to Ellen. “Your phone has been ringing like crazy.”

  “What?”

  The elevator doors opened. A girl of perhaps twenty stepped out before Ellen and her friends stepped in.

  Ellen looked at her phone. “It’s Brian. He’s called six times. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

  She listened to one of his messages and was relieved. From the slur of his speech, it was clear he’d been drinking. He poured out his heart and soul. He missed her and wanted to be with her.

  They reached their floor as Ellen said, “He’s fine. Just drunk.”

  Before they could ask about it, she added, “So, tell me what happened, after Father Gonzales and I fell overboard.”

  “Well, this may be hard to believe,” Sue said as she and Tanya helped Ellen to her room. “But we think Sister Alma may have saved our lives.”

  Ellen stopped in her tracks. “Really? What makes you think that?”

  “The man who found us said the lady of the river led him to us,” Tanya said.

  Sue put her hands on her hips. “And when we asked him what she looked like, he said she was a young nun with a beautiful face, and she walked on water.”

  Ellen grinned. “He’s not the first to have seen her.”

  As her friends helped her into her room, Ellen told them what Father Gonzales had said about the lady of the river.

  Ellen spent the next day resting in her room. She slept through breakfast, ordered room service for lunch, and then took a nap. Sue and Tanya offered to bring supper to her room and had just arrived when Father Gonzales called.

  “I saw her!” he said gleefully over the phone. “I saw the lady of the river!”

  “Really?” Ellen said as she glanced across the room at her friends. “What happened? Did you find any remains?”

  “We did! My friend the diver found the remains of two bodies—one where we went overboard and the other where the lady appeared—where she always appears.”

  Tears welled in Ellen’s eyes. “Thank heavens!”

  “That’s if the bodies are indeed the remains of Rabbit and Sister Alma. The police are pulling them up from the river now. I’ve been told it may take a few days to identify them.”

  “Oh, I can hardly wait!”

  “By the way, the diver found your dousing rods, too. I’ll give them to you the next time I see you. Father O’Brien gave me quite a look when he saw me with them.”

  Ellen laughed. “I bet he did.”

  “Isn’t this exciting?”

  “It certainly is!” Ellen said. “I hope we’ve found Rabbit and Sister Alma. I pray it’s them!”

  “You and me both!”

  “Did you ever hear back from the Ursuline Convent about the baby sent there in 1909?” Ellen asked. She’d been thinking about something the white buffalo had said to her in her dream—about the hide belonging to someone else. If there were a baby, the hide would belong to it.

  “Not yet. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake? If the convent has adoption records and we found the descendant of Rabbit and Alma?”

  “Yes, it would. Please keep us posted on both fronts.”

  “Will do!”

  Ellen hung up the phone and was in the process of telling her friends the priest’s good news when Sue’s phone rang.

  “Hold on a minute,” Sue said to Ellen. “It’s Karen Murray.”

  With her ear to her phone, Sue said, “Hello, Karen…This Saturday? Why, yes. We would be happy to come. Thank you for inviting us.”

  Sue hung up the phone and returned it to her purse.

  “Well?” Tanya asked.

  “We’ve just been invited to participate in the Blackfeet’s annual Sun Dance this weekend.”

  Chapter Eleven: The Sun Dance

  When Ellen and her friends arrived via taxi to the Badger-Two Medicine on Saturday morning, they were surprised by all the vehicles parked along the road. There were at least fifty and possibly more. Careful not to hurt her ankle, Ellen followed her friends through the tall pines and to the top of the open valley, where they were even more shocked to find the wilderness below littered with dozens of teepees, sweat lodges, and a large center structure from which the sound of drums carried.

  “It looks like they’ve been here for a while,” Sue said.

  There were campfires, ice chests, and people in lawn chairs, and there were young children running around playing a game with rocks. A few women sat on blankets visiting as they watched the children. Three men were wrapping a twenty-foot-tall teepee frame with painted canvas.

  Weaving through the grounds was a line of dancers in feathered headdresses, moccasins, and beaded gowns. The dancers were arranged from the tallest to the shortest, including old and young alike. They bent their knees and bounced to the beat of the drums.

  Spectators sang, clapped, and waved as this parade made its way into the center structure where most of the spectators followed.

  Ellen and her friends trekked down the steep slope toward the festivities. Not finding anyone they recognized, the ladies followed the others into the big center structure, where the sound of the singing and drumming grew louder.

  Inside the large dome, Ellen and her friends found the dancers and spectators numbered over sixty people. Most stood in a few rows around the perimeter of the room bending their knees and stamping their feet to the beat of the drums as they hummed and whistled along. Another row sat on the ground in front of the ring of dancers. A thick central pole, forked at the top and colorfully decorated, was surrounded at the bottom by four drummers and a few more dancers.

  Ellen soon spotted people she recog
nized—Jack Stone on the outer perimeter, Rich Falcon at the drums, and Eric Old Person sitting in a position of prominence. Along the opposite side, she noticed Karen Murray sitting with a group of women. With tears in her eyes, Karen watched the three dancers in the center of the room, a few yards from the drummers.

  That’s when Ellen had the greatest shock of all. The three male dancers nearest the drummers were bleeding on their chests where sticks had been inserted beneath the skin at the top of their breasts and tied to ropes that were tethered to the top of the central post. The three men wore wreaths of dried sage and held a bunch of it between their lips. As they danced to the beat of the drums, they leaned away from the post to which they were tethered, essentially ripping the skin from their chests a little at a time.

  “Oh my God,” Tanya whispered. “Is that Terry Murray?”

  “I think it is,” Sue said.

  Terry danced between two others. All three men had tears streaming from their eyes as they endured their self-inflicted pain. Ellen glanced back at Karen who was watching her husband’s torment with tear-stained cheeks.

  Ellen and her friends observed the dancing with fascination for another half hour when they noticed a few of the people, including Jack Stone, had begun to exit the dome.

  “Let’s go talk to Jack,” Ellen whispered to Sue and Tanya.

  “Good idea,” Sue said.

  Ellen followed Sue and Tanya toward the exit. As Ellen was about to leave the dome, she glanced back once more at Terry Murray and was surprised to find him looking back at her. She shuddered and stepped out into the sunny morning light.

  Sue and Tanya had already caught up with Jack Stone, who was standing beside a petite woman and holding a sleepy little girl, about six years old. He was saying, “Yes, we’ve been at it in the medicine lodge since sunset.”

  “Don’t you mean sunrise?” Sue asked.

  “Sunset,” Jack said again. “We came a few days ago to prepare and set up, but the dancing started last night at sunset.”

  “I bet you’re tired,” Ellen said.