Brett Wilson and de Soto's Cross by John Suter

Author:John Suter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CrossLink Publishing
Published: 2021-10-28T16:38:50+00:00

Chapter 8

Cherokee Trail

The large, circular room is neither hot nor cold. It is the perfect temperature for a hot summer day. The indigenous people watching her remain motionless as Brett scans the perimeter of the room. When they breathe, their chests do not rise or fall. They don’t blink their eyes as they stare at her. The man that led them through the shining doorway in the rock steps forward. “It is uncommon for us to have visitors like you,” he says, waving his hand through the air.

Brett watches the man move his hands in perfect unison, forming small circles and large looping circles in the air. His black hair frames his square chin perfectly. His dark eyes remain focused on her as he continues moving his hands through the air. Brett can hear the faint whispers filling the air around her, but the sounds are indecipherable. After a few minutes, he continues in a melodic voice, “You have come seeking the entrance to Gausili.” The words hang in the air and his voice seems to echo all around her.

Brett can’t speak. It is like she is hypnotized by the motion of the man’s hands and the peaceful sound of his voice. “To find your father,” he says. “Such a perilous journey for someone so young.” The whispers around her flow at a faster rate, as if the speakers are speaking hurriedly. Brett looks away from his choreographed motions and catches sight of Natalie and Dr. Brown. They are standing a few yards away from her, staring straight ahead. They appear to be in a trance-like state. Brett gets the impression that they are sleeping standing up. Grandpa Jake appears the same way.

Brett looks back at the man. His eyes narrow. “I do not think that you are ready for this journey,” he says. Hearing those words, Brett is finally able to muster her courage and force herself to respond.

“I am ready, and I will find him.” She holds her head high. “I figured out how to find Cibola, and I figured out how to find Gausili. And I will bring him home.”

His narrowed eyes seem to penetrate into her very soul. She can feel the heat building inside her. She isn’t sure if it is her anger building or the searching eyes of the native man before her. The man kneels and begins drawing circles in the smooth dirt. He keeps his eyes on her. “Did you not have assistance?” he asks. “From your elders?” These words cut at her self-confidence as they reverberate in the air around her: “From your elders. From your elders.” He shakes his head. “These people helped you, yes?” She places her hands over her ears, trying to keep the sound out of her head, but the man’s voice continues as loudly as before.

The man lowers his eyes and shakes his head. “You are not ready for what lies ahead.” Brett grits her teeth and takes her hands off her ears.

“I am!” she says. She glares at him as he continues drawing circular patterns in the dirt.

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