The Window

By Dana Hollister

Jim and Christine have been exploring the canyons of southern Utah for...well forever. Their goal: find an authentic, fully intact Anasazi Indian pot. But on this trip something goes strangely unexpected and they find themselves...somewhere...that resembles southern Utah as it was nearly a thousand years past...and the Anasazi are alive and well, as if they never ever vanished.

Before Jim and Christine resume their everyday lives back in the Old World, they engage in a journey of wilderness adventure entailed with episodes of risk and rescue, which includes bringing their new Anasazi friends, Atewa and Star, back with them for the medicine needed to save a dying people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dana Hollister
• Release date: Sep 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476258720

Dana Hollister

The Window, of the series, I Know Where They Went, is Dana Hollister’s first novel. He has been published in rock and ice climbing magazines, guide books and aviation magazines. Dana’s first book was a river runner’s guide to the Salt River in Arizona, in the mid 80s. He lives in the Phoenix area with his wife Cindy. Most of their time is spent traveling in their motor home always looking for another adventure. Dana is also a musician and released a cd in 2010. The inspiration for this series comes from spending countless days and nights with his wife roaming southern Utah.

Book preview

The

Window

Book one of the series

I Know Where They Went

Second Edition

***

Published by Dana Hollister

Smashwords Edition 2012

Copyright 2012 Dana Hollister

danahollisterbooks.com

This book is available in print and audio.

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, the Indian tribes, places and incidents

are either products of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

Cover and inside chapter photographs and design by

Dana and Cindy Hollister

Exception Photograph Chapter Two, Nine and Seventeen

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

***

Dedicated to

Our long walks

Our secret places

And

The imagination

Special thanks to

Karen Mills

***

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 The Beginning

Chapter 2 The New World

Chapter 3 The Longest Night

Chapter 4 The Anasazi

Chapter 5 The Indian Village

Chapter 6 The Ancient People

Chapter 7 The Flyers

Chapter 8 Trapped

Chapter 9 The Rescue

Chapter 10 Another Village

Chapter 11 A Sacred Place

Chapter 12 The Traveler

Chapter 13 The Explanation

Chapter 14 The Journey

Chapter 15 The Inca

Chapter 16 Return To The Old World

Chapter 17 The Old World

Chapter 18 Phoenix

Chapter 19 Back To The New World

Chapter 20 The Return

Chapter 21 Back To The Land To The South

Chapter 22 Land To The South

Chapter 23 Back To The Cheeka Village

Chapter 24 The Wedding

Chapter 25 Home

***

Chapter 1

The Beginning

The drone of the engine had been pounding the air for eight hours straight.

Are we almost there yet? Christine blurted out. Tired of the boredom, she decided it would be fun to annoy him.

He looked over at her with that smirk of his.

Thought you were asleep, Jim said.

I was, she said rubbing her eyes. I am really done driving for the day though. Are we close yet?

Yes, Dear, he said, followed with a smile.

Don’t you ‘Yes, Dear’ me, Mr. Man.

This ‘Mr. Man’ reference always made Christine smile, Jim too. She had called him that on their first date. Later, he told her he almost didn’t ask her out again. He had just seen that movie where a lady cut a guys leg off, so that he couldn’t get away. She Mr. Manned and whacked around the poor guy throughout the whole show. Jim enjoyed teasing Christine and vise versa. He did listen up, though, when he heard those words; she was being playfully serious.

There it is! he said turning the wheel hard, nearly skidding off the road, everything flying off the seat onto the floor and old coffee splashing there, and everywhere else, almost missed my turn.

Do you think you could have just slowed down, turned around and gone back? she asked, as she held onto the door handle and the edge of the seat in a death grip, waiting for a response.

Nope, that’s the only way it can be done. Besides, a little excitement never hurts, he said, obviously proud of himself.

She shook her head and said, Well, at least you're consistent.

The road they turned onto was dirt and, in a hurry, the ride went from agreeable to terribly bumpy. Their new course was full of pot holes and sharp slices that cut from side to side, dried hard, after the flow of heavy rain had maliciously reshaped the temporarily soft soil. Jim had been driving on pavement for so many hours he forgot that he needed to slow down. But he was having fun bouncing himself and Christine all over the cab of the truck. It was, after all, his turn to be annoying.

I guess this means we’re here, Christine said.

Yep, we’ve got about twenty miles, or so, to the canyon rim. We’ll crash there, and start bright and early. I wonder if we can find the place where we camped before.

Crash, that wouldn't surprise me, and early, early for who? she said. Christine was trying to keep a straight face.

Boy, I can’t wait to get you out of the car either! Jim said, changing the subject. He always overslept.

Hey, I’ve been good, Christine said, suggesting that she hadn’t complained a bit.

Yes, you have. I know how much you like spending the whole day in this truck. But that’s about to change; it’s almost time to relax. Once we stop, how long will it take you to unload the back and set up camp?

She didn’t say a word, but then she didn’t have to. Her eyes were saying it all. Of course Jim pretended not to notice.

After an hour or so of jostling down the road, Jim thought they were getting close. He slowed the truck to almost a crawl and kept his eyes peeled on the left side of the road, searching for a way through the cedars that would hopefully take them to the rim. He finally saw what he was looking for, stopped, backed up a little and parked. He left the engine running; sometimes the old truck could be hard to start.

Let’s check this out, Jim said.

He got out and walked to a vague two track that forked off the dirt road. Now seeing what Jim was referring to, Christine anxiously opened her door, the door creaking as she did, and joined him.

They were stiff from head-to-toe and could hardly move. Sitting in that truck all day is torture, Christine mumbled to herself, inside her head. She could not understand why he was so attached to it. It was his ‘ole girl’ he would say.

Let's follow this and see if it takes us to the lip of the canyon. We have got to be close, Jim said.

He turned and started up the obscure crosscut that was overgrown with weeds. In a few minutes, they topped out on a rise and could see the canyon beyond.

This looks like as good of place as any. I don't think it's where we camped before, but, close enough. What do you think, honey, you want to park it here, or do you want to drive some more?

Christine turned from the view of the canyon and said, You are just full of it today.

He walked over to her, put his arms around her tiny waist, and asked, What would you do without me?

She smiled, looking into his eyes and started thinking, full of it, but yeah, what would …

Okay, honey, the keys are in the truck. Go ahead and bring it on up.

Christine released her arms from around his neck, You are just about to find out what I would do without you.

He jumped back as she was putting her hands on her hips, and ran as fast as his stiff legs would carry him back down the barely visible trail. He could tell she was yelling something, but was too busy laughing to really hear her.

The old truck finally came to its place of rest after the long trip. Jim flipped down the tailgate to get their cooler and collapsible camping chairs out. He carried his load, cooler under one arm, chairs under the other, to a flat spot he had seen earlier near a fire ring, already properly arranged by some days gone by campers. Jim and Christine sat down and cracked open a couple of beers.

Whew, am I glad that’s over. What a drive, Jim said with relief.

You got that right. I love coming here, but I don’t care much for that drive, Christine said.

They relaxed for a few minutes, and then walked over to the canyon’s rim. The sun was slowly settling into the horizon, presenting a kaleidoscope of shadows and colors, as they gazed down into the depths. The burning orange against the red sandstone was a magnificent sight. The canyon, cutting through solid rock nearly six hundred feet deep, lay right at their feet.

Christine whispered, I know this sounds silly, but it’s like magic. I just love this place.

He agreed with a nod, for lack of better words.

Right at that moment, they heard it split the silence. A crack, so loud against the dead quiet, that it made them both jump. The peculiar sound was accompanied by a blinding flash of light.

Christine instinctively looked at Jim, What the heck was that?

I have no idea, he said, looking down the canyon to where the sound had come from. With a concerned expression on his face, forehead wrinkled as though puzzled or deep in thought, he continued, whatever it was, it was big.

What is going on? Christine wondered out loud.

They stood there frozen for what seemed like several minutes. Jim finally said, I wonder if it will happen again?

Do you think someone could be shooting or blasting? Christine asked, keeping her eyes cast down the canyon where the sound had come from.

He continued looking down the canyon too, thinking of every possibility that he knew of.

"No, you can't blast here and that sure wasn’t just a gun. A crack that loud would be more in line with a cannon on a warship, but it ended so quickly. There wasn’t even time to cover our ears. And what's more, it didn’t echo. That crack ended every bit as fast as the flash disappeared. Weird ─ all of it is just really weird ─ and a little scary, too."

They pondered for a while longer, but after still not coming up with any reasonable answers, Christine suggested that they make camp before darkness set in. Jim agreed. They looked back over their shoulders one more time before going about the chores, still wondering what the sound could have been.

Jim quickly put a fire together and then helped Christine get the remainder of their gear out of the back of the truck. It would be their bed for the night. Now finished, they sat back down to warm by the fire. Christine reached into the cooler and pulled out some sandwiches they had picked up along the way; they had learned from past trips that they wouldn’t have the gumption to make a big production cooking dinner after the long drive. They ate in silence, both of them knowing what the other was thinking. What was that sound?

Despite being distracted by the unknown, the remainder of their evening was pleasant, typical of the many nights they had spent under the stars in this country together. They talked about the plans they had made for the next several days. In the morning they would head out to a ruin that they had spotted on a previous trip where they were scouting for new sites. This particular ruin appeared that it would be hard to approach. The harder they were to get to, the less likely they had been tampered with, especially if well hidden like this one. They had decided it would be easiest to gain access by simply descending into the canyon, close to the cliff dwelling. With the help of some climbing equipment they would rappel from the rim. It was still a ways down canyon, but not too far from that night’s camp. They had studied the rugged terrain and determined that the only other approach would be to walk up the main canyon for many miles. This canyon was not accessible by a foot trail from the plateau at the top where the gulch originated. An easy rappel from the rim could save them several days. Time that would be better spent exploring.

Each time they went on one of these adventures, their goal was always the same: find a ruin that had not been disturbed by others. And they had, but for Jim and Christine, the real prize would be to find such a ruin that safe-housed an authentic Anasazi pot, set in its dedicated place by its actual owner hundreds of years ago. That photograph is what they desperately wanted. From their research they had read stories of others finding hidden treasures: a pot or woven basket, a pair of sandals, and even pieces of a turkey feather blanket. They hoped a few treasures were still out there waiting to be discovered.

Several years ago they found a hidden cave that looked to have only been disturbed by the rodents that obviously lived there. Typically a site disturbed by humans showed signs of vandalism. It was not unusual to find petroglyphs and pictographs defaced by a simple pocket knife, structural timbers, once supporting a dwelling’s ceiling, removed and burned for a warming fire, or even holes littering the dwelling floor, dug by pot hunters looking for a find. Less harmful signs were potsherds, pieces of broken pottery, and corn cobs arranged in tidy little groupings on top of large flat stones that surrounded the area. In this cave, there were no intact artifacts in plain sight, but the floor of the cave was covered with haphazardly placed potsherds, and there were no signs of digging or fire rings. Jim and Christine realized they had found something. Sure, they could have dug around a little and found many artifacts, but that was never their approach. Uprooting these treasures without recording what and where they were found, only hindered the possibility of ever determining where the Anasazi Indians had gone, and why they mysteriously disappeared; not to mention it was illegal and getting caught came with a hefty fine.

They saved the cave’s location in their GPS and when they got home, called a friend who was a famous archeologist in the Southwest. They were fortunate to have met him when he walked into a restaurant in Blanding one night, when they were there having dinner. They recognized him immediately and took the opportunity to invite him to their table. Dan McKenzie became a good friend over time. The cave turned out to be an archeological gold mine and Jim and Christine even got to participate in the site excavation. That was an experience they would always remember.

Often they vented their frustrations about the way most artifacts had been handled. Some research that Christine had done revealed that the majority of artifacts discovered in Southern Utah had landed in the basement of a Chicago museum, in unmarked boxes. No one knew where the artifacts had come from, exactly. What a shame. This frustrated them to no end. They would love to see what had been in these ruins.

Jim and Christine were not archeologists, but you would never know it. They were well spoken on the subject of the ancient ones in this area. They knew more about this country than most. However, learning about these people was just a hobby, an interest, even so, one that they were very passionate about.

The conversation finally went back to the cracking sound. It was disturbing to say the least. Not like anything they had ever heard before. Especially in a place that was always so quiet and peaceful.

You feel like checking it out in the morning? Jim asked. We’ll have to pass it to get to our rappel point anyway.

We’ve got two weeks, might as well, Christine agreed.

Well, Jim said standing up in front of the fire, how about we go hit the sack? I’m pooped. I also cannot wait to find out what that crack was all about tomorrow.

Christine got up too.

It was about as loud as your snoring is gonna be.

I don’t snore, he said, puffing out his chest as he insisted.

She slapped him on the belly, Yeah. We’ll see about that.

They extinguished the fire, brushed their teeth and crawled into the back of the truck, settling into their sleeping bags.

Good night honey, she said reaching over and kissing his cheek.

Good night. Love you.

Me too.

~~~~

Jim woke when he heard something rustling around close to the truck. He sat up quickly and saw that Christine's sleeping bag was empty. He calmly laid back down content that it was her he was hearing. After a few minutes he remembered the big crack they had heard the night before and started getting anxious. He put on some clothes and crawled out onto the tailgate. He sat there for a moment rubbing his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light.

Early, huh? Christine said chuckling. You just fake it until you smell the coffee.

Jim straightened up, Honey, I would never take advantage of your good nature like that.

However, he had been out in the boonies enough times to know that it’s always a good idea not to be the first one out of bed. Especially when it’s cold, it's better to hang back a little and wait for a fire to be started and hot coffee to be made.

Let me help you, she said, walking over to where he was sitting on the tailgate.

She took his hand and put his palm against his nose and said, Okay, hold it right there.

What’s this all about? he mumbled from under his hand.

If you keep direct pressure applied to your nose, it will keep it from growing any more than what it already has this morning with all that fibbing you've been doing.

He grabbed her and started squeezing, Good morning to you, too.

A little grumpy after the long drive? she said, through the giggles.

Not a bit, but I can tell you’ve fully recovered.

Jim never understood how she could jump out of bed, and suddenly be awake, alert and ready to go.

They got their coffee and sat by the fire. It was pretty chilly outside, but that’s what makes the coffee taste so good he thought.

The air carried the scent of cedar, birds in the trees were singing their songs, and ravens were soaring high above in circles, as they kept a watchful eye for anything that moved below. Looking out across the canyon, Jim and Christine watched another display of changing colors as the sun rose, from dark red to a brilliant burning orange. The shadows were playing deceptive tricks with their eye’s depth of field. It was shaping up to be another day in paradise. The best part being they were alone and away from the hustle and bustle.

Are you ready? Jim asked.

Yeah, are you still wanting to check out that area, where the crack came from?

Yeah, I am really anxious to see what that was all about.

Me too, Christine said.

With that Jim got up and went about packing the camping equipment, stowing the three-burner stove, coffee pot, and chairs in the back of the truck. Next he got the packs out of the cab. Lifting one, he grunted and said, It's gonna be a long day.

It didn’t take long to break camp and start moving. The two of them had it down to a science, having done it so many times. They were excited about visiting the new places they had seen through their binoculars. They had a goal, and they were after it in short order.

The technical climbing gear added at least twenty pounds to each of their packs, making their load quite heavy compared to what they would usually carry. But, they had decided it was well worth it. They would only carry the extra weight for the first few miles to where they would rappel into the canyon, leaving it there so they could climb back out upon their return.

They stopped only a couple times that morning. During the two months before the trip, they had worked out in preparation, walking and running every morning or evening with weighted packs. It was always much easier to get out of shape, than to get into shape, but the hard work was paying off. Their packs normally felt clumsy on the first day of a long trip. However, today Jim and Christine hardly noticed they were even on their backs. Both of them were driven to get to the spot where they heard the crack come from.

Usually Christine would be stopping every few minutes. Not to rest, but to search the ground as she walked. It wasn’t unlike her find an arrowhead or two on these trips while she was tromping through the brush. She was also compelled to inspect every flower and pretty rock. But today her mind was on getting to the place where they thought the sound had came from.

After walking for awhile Jim stopped and set his pack down. Christine, right behind him, followed suit.

I think this is the place where the crack came from, or close to it, Jim said, pointing out in the distance. Want a drink?

Yeah, Christine said with a nod, as her eyes followed an imaginary line extending from Jim's finger to a long sweeping bend in the canyon wall.

They hadn’t said much this morning, walking, for the most part, in silence. Now Christine spoke up after going over everything that had happened last night in her mind. Handing the water back she said, So what do you think it was, Jim, I mean really?

I don’t know, he paused and looked down like he was in deep thought. It seems like I have spent more time outside than anywhere else, and I cannot for the life of me compare it to any thing I have ever heard. There are similar cracking sounds in glaciers, as they move, but there aren’t any of those around here; not to mention they are not nearly that loud. I have heard big flakes of rock break off granite walls. They let out a similar crack too, but then they continue to roar on the way down. Last night’s crack was so loud that the earth trembled, and so sharp. What puzzles me is that it was so fast. Then the light at the same instant was so intense. I have been wondering if it could have been some sort of sonic boom or something, but we didn't see the space shuttle fly by; doesn't explain the light either.

Maybe an atom split, she said smiling, taking a bite from a candy bar.

Very funny, Jim said.

I'm not making fun of you, she assured him.

Jim continued to study the bend in the canyon where he had guessed the crack came from, getting his binoculars out of his pack. On closer inspection, he noticed an overhang in the canyon wall and could just make out some small cliff dwellings tucked in the back. The dwellings were well-shaded from the sunlight, making them hard to see even with the binoculars.

Hey, there are cliff dwellings in that alcove over there. Just below the first rock band. Maybe somebody was doing something in there that made the cracking sound, Jim said, and then began thinking out loud as he studied the terrain between him and the ruins. There’s a breakdown in the rim about half between here and there, where we can get down to the slick rock bench that the dwellings are on. I think we should take our packs with us; it looks like from the dwellings, we’ll be able to scramble along a ledge that leads around the far corner of the bend, where maybe we can get back up to the rim and continue on to our rappel point. It will be a little bit tough going down the breakdown with the packs, but if we leave them here, we will have to back track quite a ways to retrieve them. Finished with his thinking out loud, Jim announced, I say we take the chance that we can get back up on the rim once on the other side of that bend.

Sounds good to me, Christine agreed.

They lifted their packs to their shoulders and started walking, Christine leading the way. Jim was in a hurry to investigate the site and get the load off his back for longer than just a bit. As they walked along the edge of the canyon his thoughts drifted to the beauty of this place and how he felt so lucky to have a companion like Christine. He smiled watching her weave her way along. Thinking about how they were the best of friends and partners, having a mutual respect for each other. Their love was deep and passionate and she sure is a gorgeous tomboy, he thought.

About half an hour had passed since their last stop and they were close enough now that the dwellings could be clearly seen. When Christine looked back and saw Jim coming up along side of her, she said, Looks like a pretty decent ruin. Some entire rooms are still in one piece. I think we've actually been here before, but it was quite a few years ago. We must have come from the other direction, because this doesn't ring a bell to me.

I think you’re right, Jim said. That would mean we can get back up around the corner, because that is the direction we would have come from. That's good news!

A moment later they approached the slope of broken rock where they would scramble down. Jim looked it over carefully and then said with excitement, We’re here. Let’s go ahead and start down.

Christine only had a brief response, I’ll follow you.

Often times, she preferred the route he would choose. Somehow he was a natural when it came to this sort of thing. He was absolutely in his element. Anyone who knew him was happy to follow him. No one was more aware of their surroundings out here than he was and fewer had anywhere close to his experience in the backcountry. Jim led the way down the break, inspecting each boulder as he moved through making sure everything was stable before proceeding.

Dropping down through the rock band had presented little problem. Now below the obstacles of precariously balanced boulders, loose gravel, and dirt, the cliff dwellings could be seen directly ahead. They meandered around Volkswagen sized rocks that littered the large ledge leading to the ruins. As they walked towards the site, the rock band they had descended through was becoming overhung, bigger and deeper, darkening as it became shaded from the sunlight, creating a secure shallow cave that had protected the ruins from the elements for nearly a thousand years.

Walking side-by-side, they continued on the broad, flat, red sandstone ledge. Christine spoke up first, asking the same old question, Where on Earth did they go? Why did they leave here?

Jim responded with a question, Who knows? Sure would be fun to figure it out though, wouldn't it?

It didn’t matter how many times they had explored this country the question always came up. They always talked about it. How could an entire civilization just disappear, leaving without a trace, except, obviously, for the ruins where they once had lived? Yes, you could find the occasional pot, sandal or pictures pecked into, or painted on, a wall, but the Anasazi left very little behind.

As Jim and Christine walked around the last of the boulders and into the ruins, they both saw it at the same time, stopping dead in their tracks. A pot was sitting on a pedestal of rock, right in the middle of the cliff dwellings. They looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Slowly they approached the pot, taking off their sunglasses, staring. They slid their packs off their shoulders, carefully setting them down. Then as if they had choreographed their movements in preparation, they walked around the pot in a circle, almost in a hypnotic state, gazing in disbelief.

I don’t believe it, Christine said, stopping momentarily, stepping closer.

Yeah, I second that, Jim said almost in a whisper.

Then he dropped to the floor on his knees and rubbed his eyes. He looked around the site, giving it a quick inspection, his eyes returning to the pot.

Honey, it doesn’t make sense. This ruin has been well traveled, look around, he motioned with his hands in a wave. People have been here before. We've been here before. Potsherds and cornhusks are setting on every flat stone. I can’t believe that a pot would still be here. Well, and furthermore, it wasn't here the last time we came down this canyon. There’s no way. Someone definitely put it here.

Christine looked around as he spoke and then said, You’re right, no way could a pot still be in a place like this undisturbed. I wonder who planted it. It was not here before. I remember this ruin now.

Jim answered quietly, Maybe someone is playing a cruel joke. I bet if we pick the pot up and look on the bottom it will say made in Japan.

China would be more like it, Christine commented chuckling.

Jim got up and stepped towards the pot. Christine was already up on her tip-toes, peering inside of it. Jim watched as she reached in and lifted black gravel out of the vessel, pinched between her fingers. Then she sprinkled it in the middle of the palm of her other hand. The black stones that made up the gravel were very small, mostly the size of a BB.

Hey, Jim piped up, you shouldn't be doing that. I’m gonna turn you in.

They both knew; good and well, they should not be touching something that could be so delicate. But then again, it was almost like it could not be the real thing. Actually both of them knew it wasn't the real thing.

Oh, quiet, Christine snapped. This is some weird stuff. I can’t really feel it, she said.

Jim looked closer into the palm of her hand inspecting the little black stones carefully. His eyes got big.

Honey, it’s not sitting on your hand; it’s floating.

Very gently he blew on the mysterious black gravel. The small stones, mixed with a little dust, moved off Christine's palm, suspended in space. Neither one of them said a thing and neither one could look away. Christine slowly put her hands down to her sides and wiped them on her pants, staring in disbelief.

There was a crack. That familiar, loud and sharp sound ringed in their ears, and at the same moment, a flash of intense, blinding, white light. Then dead silence.

Christine did not move, frozen in place, eyes still closed from the flash of light. She said, What happened? Jim? Jim! Jim, answer me! She began to open her eyes ever so slowly.

He too was opening his, looking up, I have no idea, but I can tell you something happened and in a big way.

They both looked around and almost at the same time said, The pot moved.

Or we moved? Jim replied.

Jim, she said, the canyon’s on the other side of us, just like the pot.

His comment was broken, he was almost stammering, I, I, I see...what you mean, it’s the same place, but it’s, it's backwards. It’s. Honey, it’s like a mirror image of where we were. What did you do?

Oh no you don’t, you're the one who blew on it. I was just looking at it, she said quickly.

Well we are somewhere other than where we were. Jim said, looking around studying the surroundings. The ruin is gone, but at least our packs are with us.

He was already shifting gears, thinking survival.

Why don’t you stay here for a minute. I will pop up onto the rim and take a look around, Jim said, as he slowly began to move away.

Christine took stock of the situation, glancing back and forth, taking another quick survey and then ran a few steps to catch him.

If you think you're going without me, guess again Mr. Man. This is creepy.

~~~~

Chapter 2

The New World

Jim took off around the corner hoping to find a way up to the rim; that had been their plan earlier, and he was hoping it would pan out that way. Luckily there was one within a few yards. The overhanging sandstone had collapsed, creating a broken area down to the bench they were on. He followed the line of least resistance, pausing every now and then to look out at the canyon, searching for anything that might be moving, or some kind of a clue as to what might have happened. The talus slope was loose, and he slid back down a few times in his haste, almost knocking Christine down more than once. She followed close behind him, doing her best to keep up.

This is scarin' the crap out of me. What happened? Jim said under his breath.

Although she could barely hear him over her own heavy breathing, he realized he probably shouldn’t have said, or implied, that he was scared; not that he was too macho to be scared, but he didn’t want to concern Christine unnecessarily.

What are we going to do? Christine asked. Her voice broke from breathing hard and talking at the same time.

Jim could tell she was troubled. The expression on her face was one of concern. She had stopped and was standing, still looking up at him waiting for an answer. But he didn't have one.

Jim’s eyes scanned the surroundings as he climbed higher, trying to get his bearings. Something was wrong, everything was all backwards. He was puzzled, but didn’t want to show it. He kept telling himself, take it easy — think through it — there has got be an explanation.

Reaching the edge of the rim, they stood just above the cliff dwelling, or where it used to be.

I’m not sure what to do, honey ─ look at this, Jim said as he waved his arm in a broad sweeping motion. It’s the same place but in reverse, a mirror image.

They walked a short distance through the cedars to the edge of a side canyon. Jim inspected it, again scanning the terrain for anything out of the ordinary. He had no idea what he was looking for, but confirmed in his mind that they were in the same place, just reversed, so to speak.

Okay, let’s get back down to our packs, Jim finally said, looking out into the canyon.

Jim’s instincts were telling him to get to their gear, find a place where they could feel more secure and regroup. At the same time he would try to act like everything was okay; even though he was sure something was very strangely wrong.

Back at the rim above their packs, Jim looked out one last time before heading back down the break to where the small ruin had been.

Honey, see that overhang in the distance, with the boulders under it? Jim was pointing. We’ll head for there, get under those boulders and take stock of the situation. It looks like it would be a good place to keep a low profile.

He looked at her to see if she was buying off on the idea. She wasn't.

A low profile? Hiding from what? Did you see something that I didn't?

No. I guess my gut tells me to find a place out of sight and think this through; try to figure out where we are and how we got here. Jim was waiting for her to respond.

Christine had a different idea, I don’t know. It seems to me like we came through something to a different place, but the same place. Maybe we should try to go back through to where we came from, and then decide what to do.

Jim was torn between wanting to explore this backwards place and, at the same time, feeling the same insecurities that she was. No two ways about it, they were both disoriented and confused about what had just happened. He had learned long ago to listen to her though. He was more apt to act quickly; she thought things through.

As his eyes still scanned the canyon he said, Okay, let's try to go back, we’ll make camp on the other side and decide what to do in the morning. We can always come back to this side.

That would make me feel better, she said.

They went back down the way they had come up.

Christine hurried over to the pot, took out a pinch of the black gravel and put it in the palm of her hand. Jim leaned over and lightly blew on the black dust. It worked before. It made sense it would work again. They went through the same motions as the first time, but nothing happened.

The look on Christine's face revealed her fear.

Relax honey, we’ll be okay. Let’s try it again. Let’s go slower, just like the first time.

Nothing happened.

With tears starting to well up in her eyes, Christine reached into the pot for more of the gravel. Jim lightly blew on it, again.

Nothing happened.

She put her arms around him and said over and over, I’m scared.

And so was he.

Suddenly the sunlight dimmed, and quickly brightened again. It dimmed again. Jim looked up. Still holding onto Christine, his eyes fixed on the objects in the sky that had briefly shaded them from the sun.

He whispered, Honey, don’t move. Not a muscle.

She started to twist a little, but he pulled her tighter against his body to stop her.

What is it? she whispered.

We have company, but I don’t think they see us, he was speaking into her ear as quietly as he could.

She turned her head slightly looking up, following Jim's gaze.

"Oh,