FOUR

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Reggie once showed me the skills of "archaeology" students from the technical university on a "dig" in "Belize". I mean, I watched really close to his screen...and I remember.

Those "dig teams" would take such great care—be so cautious.

Since then, I come out here every day. I've loved "clue hunting" for old times and places. I emulate those "stu—dents' " procedures, best as I can, while I talk to Hueso Amigo.

"How long was your life? What was this place like when you were still land bound?"

I've been saving a gift that appeared from the earth—two springs ago. I pull a soft round-headed paintbrush out of my shirt. The brush is always kept with me, and so many prayers—longing to do this. "It's now my chance!" A shiver runs through me.

The area I continue to clear slowly discloses: first one, then two smooth longer bones—much longer it seems than human leg bones should be. I dust more loose soil from the surface of them.

This could be vital? Maybe?

I try to stay calm. But I can't help it. I let myself wonder what it might be like the moment "my find" is deemed truly important to the Outsider world, and even my people. I'm like the students.

The "Circle" would gather, Grandfather proud. They'd have to respect my decisions. They couldn't restrict me after this find—not anymore.

I look back to the skull, and those eye sockets, which seem to see—piercing me. I shiver again. I must leave. The sockets must remain untouched for now, in case there are any tiny bone flakes.

I'm so absorbed, I almost don't notice blue wisps on the noll streak past the edge of my view.

But...the streaks disappear, as fast as I am able to glance to see what is close—as if it is watching.

It's found me!?

It's followed? Should I go see?

"The Specter is just a trick of the desert," Grandfather says.

Normally, I would jump quickly and check, but whenever I do, I see only wisps disappearing.

Is Grandfather right?

"It's a mirage. Really. It is." I replay Mateo's voice laughing at me.

I sigh. Right now I need, most of all, to be here with this skull.

The streaking blue light must remain a mystery I'm unable to prove. I am far too excited to allow my hopes for a Specter to distract me from anything I'm now doing." I should take all day here if I have to—perform slowly, the brushing of soil—so carefully here."

I tune out whatever blue could be there and go back to my task.

What will Uncle Reggie report? I'd better not tell him till I know so much more. What will Grandfather say?

I lived, close as kin, with the man I call Uncle since I was brought here, and so does the tribe. I don't remember things before I arrived; and I'm not alone. A few of my cousins can't tell who is their 'true folk' from most folk around.

I'd sure like to know, but nobody seems to think it's important. I dream often about it and my father out there, somewhere, but I won't tell Mateo or anyone else.

I should only tell Grandfather first about finding remains—once Hueso Amigo is whole. I look around at the piles I am digging.

These are our lands. "Could you be our family, Amigo?"

My holes and mounds span the width of a dune now. Perhaps it's "the whispered mystery"?

Such is not often spoken about—and nothing in detail. It might not be good to share what is sacred, so I will not mention this yet. I cannot wait to find out.

Today, I'm determined, riding high with my thrill. "No one must know about you—at least, not till I've gone to school." I want a "great" find to do that, not one they will laugh at. And this time I have something important...maybe?

"You are, aren't you? You're very important. You're real!" I'm going to learn the "where" and "who" of my people—my original kin? "Are you from them too?"

Here and there still lie half-buried things I'd turned up before, but then left abandoned—most of them worn or too broken to know what they are. "Are your belongings in here as well? How long did you live?"

One of the eye sockets proves to be broken. My gut flip-flops. I rest back on the heels of my newly-made tire sandals I don't like to use, and study this elongated face in the ground. What should I do? "Were you hit on the head?"

I examine. "I wonder what did this to you? Could be a rock, but there are no cliffs to dislodge, or to fall from, at least not here, although the desert will change through many a season."

I imagine the animals who've walked over your body, not knowing you're here.

I take a big breath. And I check the hill again for the "Specter". Could the Specter be Amigo's ghost? Can't be that!

I've looked in a book that the "box kids" once had. And the Specter's a legend... Can't be our Specter, but it's in their book...or something that's ghostly was told about in capture onto those pages.

Could this skull be something like him? Maybe he's come here to check on what I'm doing to—him? I sit back on my heels again.

This skull does look weird—weirder than those of our people or the ones of the villager nomads lost in our land.

Was the Specter this Hueso Amigo before? Poor Amigo. Did he just lose himself out here and couldn't survive?

I survey the hills, the matching ribbons of sand and gulleys as far as the eye can see, looking for clues on the surface. "If there's more here, where would it be?"

I jump up. I examine the ground. I calm down. There's nothing hard that I can feel where I've crouched.

The most I see is hardened dirt-sand, but with useful swaths of sandstone and grasses that run in between.

Like everyone else, it's only been days since I received the "moon spirit blessings" of clan.

And I'm dying to let everyone know the luck I had hoped for in finding a dig has been granted so fast. Did they all have as much luck as I have?

Thank you, Moon-spirit Song!

This is so hard. I can't tell a soul!

~~~/

Can you imagine the thrill of having a "find" like Kai is hoping he's got? Is it relatable for you?

Why are the bones misshapen, do you think?

And then, keeping the secret... Could you?

Is keeping it secret a good choice in his shoes?

Hope you're enjoying the desert adventure!

Hope you're enjoying the desert adventure!

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