A Dead Man's Tale by James D. Doss Page B

her after-a-fashion friend. Knocking the dwarf’s head clean off (in B’rer Bear fashion) would not materially enhance her chances of finding out why the dwarf had dispatched Delilah Darkwing to summon Daisy Perika to an urgent meeting.

Chapter Fifteen
    “O bury me not on the lone prairie
    Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free
    In a narrow grave just six by three—
    O bury me not on the lone prairie.”
    Daisy’s Self-Appointed Guardian
    Daisy Perika was not half as surprised by the dwarf’s appearance as was Sarah Frank, who had followed the shaman into Cañón del Espíritu .
    Sarah had not visualized the entirety of the pitukupf, but she had seen the lower portion of his anatomy with crystal clarity, and the sight of a pair of spindly little legs standing on the log beside Aunt Daisy was enough to send chills rippling along the Ute-Papago orphan’s spine, constrict her throat so that speech was impossible, make the delicate hairs on the back of her neck stand up like porcupine quills, plus other physiological responses too numerous to enumerate. Staring fixedly at the disembodied limbs, she opted for denial. That can’t be real. That being the case, she was obliged to provide a satisfactory explanation for the apparition. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast and my blood sugar’s low so I’m having a hallucination. Sarah closed her eyes and prayed for the vision to go away. She cracked her left lid. The horrid little legs were still there and Aunt Daisy was talking to the empty space above them! The girl reclosed the eye, clasped her cold hands, and prayed very hard. When she opened both eyes, Daisy was talking to completely empty space. Greatly relieved, Sarah thanked God and her guardian angel. To restore her dwindling supply of glucose, the girl unwrapped what she thought was a candy she’d found in her pocket—and popped a mentholated cough drop into her mouth. Sarah made a face and a promise to herself: As soon as I get back to Daisy’s house I’ll eat some chocolate-chip cookies and strawberry ice cream.
    But something else was about to happen that would make the girl feel distinctly uneasy. Something that all the sugar in Colorado wouldn’t help.
    Here it comes.
    Watch the coal-black raven flutter down from somewhere up there and settle lightly on Daisy’s left shoulder. This sudden appearance was enough to spook the eighteen-year-old, but in addition to the dramatic entrance—the bird put her beak very close to the old woman’s ear and began to gabble.
    Sarah Frank was goggle-eyed with astonishment. Oh, my—that crow looks like it’s talking to Aunt Daisy!
    Indeed it did. But what made the effect perfectly eerie was that the Ute elder was obviously listening to every word, even nodding now and again.
    The girl began to harbor the hopeful suspicion that… I’m not really here and this isn’t actually happening. Then what was going on? It’s a bad dream and I’ll wake up in my bed at the Columbine and laugh about it. Ha-ha. But she knew better.
    After Delilah D. had had her say, she unfolded her dark wings and flap-flapped away.
    As if nothing out of the ordinary were transpiring, Daisy Perika resumed her conversation with the dwarf, which (according to the little man’s custom) was conducted in an archaic version of the Ute dialect.
    What did they talk about? The usual. How the weather wasn’t like it used to be years ago. Olden times when everything was better. Long-gone friends and enemies who had passed on. And, in closing, the critical subject.
    Without saying why, the dwarf sternly advised his aged Ute neighbor to steer clear of Chickasaws .
    Daisy Perika realized that the pitukupf must be referring to Lyle Thoms, the crotchety Chickasaw elder who had offered Charlie Moon twenty-five cents to kill a man by the name of Posey Shorthorse. She waited to hear the rest.
    There wasn’t any more. That was it.
    Well. Talk about your anticlimax.
    Daisy was furlongs and miles