Page 34 of Dead Mountain

“Hello,” said Skip, seizing Tenorio’s hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake.

The previous evening, when she had enlisted Skip in this little expedition, he had showed such gusto for it that she’d been a little taken aback. She’d explained it was going to be a quick, low-key operation—no fuss, no confrontation, just in and out. If there was any problem, Skip was to stand back and let her and Tenorio do all the talking—not lose his cool, as he had a tendency to do.

Skip had agreed to those conditions. “I promise,” he said. “I’ll be as meek and mild as Mister Rogers.”

Taking a deep breath of mountain air, Nora hefted her pack and headed down the increasingly well-worn trail, following Tenorio, with Skip and Stan taking up the rear. It was another cold, sunny day, and the ground crunched beneath her feet.

When they arrived at the site, they found Deputy Baca, sitting in a chair and smoking, thermos of coffee by his side. When he saw them, he lumbered to his feet.

Nora nodded at Tenorio and they went up to the deputy. They had already agreed Tenorio would take the lead: this was his show.

“Good afternoon,” Baca said, looking nervously at their packs.

“To you too,” said Tenorio. “Hope all is well here?”

“Oh, sure, yes,” said Baca. “No problems.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tenorio slipped a letter out of his pocket. “We’re here to recover our ancestral remains. Here’s the authorization from the governor of Isleta. That’s your copy.”

Baca started reading the letter, his face clouding with doubt. “I wasn’t told about this.”

“It’s all routine,” said Tenorio. “NAGPRA law. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

Baca kept reading. “You’re going to dig up the bones? I don’t know. NAGPRA?”

“Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. We’re going to repatriate these remains, as permitted under the act. Dr. Kelly and her two assistants will be doing the work for us.” He turned to Nora. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Tenorio turned back to Baca. “Are we good?”

He was still staring at the letter. “I’d better check with the sheriff.”

“You do that,” said Tenorio. “We’re getting to work.”

“Maybe you should wait for the sheriff,” said Baca.

“I’m sorry, but we’re on a tight schedule,” said Tenorio, moving past Baca. He grasped the ladder and began climbing. Nora followed, then Skip and Stan. In a moment, all four of them were inside the cave. Nora could hear Baca talking loudly on his radio—bad connection, it seemed—telling the sheriff what was going on.

Tenorio turned to them. “Before we start, I’d like to say a few prayers.”

“Of course.”

Tenorio began to sing softly as he sprinkled some pollen from a pouch in his bag, then lit a sage bundle and waved the smoke around with an eagle feather. The sweet perfume of burning sage arose, and the low musical murmur of Tenorio’s voice gave Nora a momentary feeling of peace.

After a few minutes his voice died away. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”

“Hey!” came Baca’s voice from below, shouting up to the cave. “Hey, you up there!”

“Skip, Stan, go ahead and get to work,” Nora said. “We’ll talk to him.”

“Righty-ho,” said Skip, opening his pack and laying out tools, trowels, brushes, and two body bags for the remains, while Stan—humming “Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea” under his breath—began removing the plywood protection frame.

Nora and Tenorio returned to the cave entrance. Baca stood below, still holding the radio. “The sheriff hasn’t authorized this! He says you have to stop right now!”

Tenorio spoke. “I’m sorry, but we’re fully within our rights.”

“You’ve got to stop now! That’s an order!”

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