Mysteries In Our National Parks: Ghost Horses: A Mystery in Zion National Park

“That’s right, but Tamara won’t be back for five more weeks. She wants to finish out her college semester before returning to Wind River.”

Ashley pressed, “You still didn’t say why he doesn’t like us.”

“Well, it could be because there’s been…trouble…between Ethan and some of the town boys outside our reservation.”

“You mean Ethan fought with the white kids?”

Vivian nodded and patted Ashley on the knee. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

“So Ethan thinks we’re like them, right? Like the kids who fought him.”

“Maybe.” Vivian nodded again, this time more slowly.

Jack leaned forward so that he could see Vivian’s face better. “But, I don’t get it. If Ethan doesn’t like Anglos, then why did you put him with us? I mean, isn’t that the worst thing you could do?”

“Two reasons. First of all, right now there’s no one else. I was going to try to pull a lot of strings to keep them at Wind River, but then I hit on the second reason.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

“Well, I figured putting Ethan with kids—good kids like you and your sister—might help him more than anything else.”

The music stopped and the dancers began to scatter, like bright leaves in the wind. Vivian looked off into the distance. Her voice softened as she added, “Ethan needs to see people as people. Maybe we all do.” Straightening, she said, “Well, looks like the food line’s starting to move. Let’s get over there with your mother. Has either one of you ever tasted buffalo before?”

“Never,” Jack answered as Ashley cried, “No way! Is that what they’re giving us to eat? Buffalo? Yuck!”

“Really, it’s great!” A tiny smile bent the corners of Vivian’s mouth. “Looks like Ethan and Summer aren’t the only two who’ll be experiencing something new!”

CHAPTER TWO

When they left the powwow, the sun was still high above the horizon, a pale yellow disk against a flat, washed-out sky. As Jack looked through their car window, the reservation land appeared bleached. All around him, small buildings the color of sand blended into grassless hills that disappeared into nothing. After all the color of the dances, the area beyond the powwow seemed to have dried up and faded.

“Aren’t you going the wrong way, Dad?” Jack asked when he realized his father had left the main highway and was now heading north on a dusty ribbon of road.

“We can make it from Wind River to Jackson Hole in”—his father, Steven, glanced at his watch—“two hours, which means we can stop at Sacagawea’s grave and still get home with plenty of time to pack for our big trip to Zion.” Looking at Ethan’s reflection in the rearview mirror, he said, “You have an advantage on us, Ethan, since your suitcase is already loaded up. We Landons still have to get our act together.”

Silence.

“So, have you ever been on an airplane?”

Ethan pressed his forehead into the glass and said nothing. His long hair covered his face like a waterfall, shutting them out.

“How about you, Summer?” Steven asked, his voice still jovial.

Summer just shook her head no.

Great, Jack told himself. He could see it now—an entire vacation filled with his parents fussing over Ethan and Summer while the two of them sat like stone. Sighing, he read a road sign, a small rectangle that looked as unassuming as a tag at a rummage sale. It pointed to the cemetery. A moment later they pulled into the tiny parking strip.

As Jack got out of their Jeep, he thought how Vivian Swallow had been both right and wrong. She’d been right about the feast: The roast buffalo tasted wonderful. It was a lean, tender meat without a gamey flavor. Even Ashley liked it. Of course, she’d also piled her plate high with sweet corn and ripe watermelon and beans and salad and a dessert that looked like a cherry cobbler. The feast had definitely been worth staying for.

But Vivian had been dead wrong about Ethan. He hadn’t said a word—not during the feast, not when they’d said good-bye to Vivian, not when Jack’s mother, Olivia, told him how happy she was to be taking the Ingawanup kids to Zion, not even when Jack’s father, Steven, tried to draw him out by telling him about the years he’d spent as a foster child himself. No matter what the Landons tried, nothing worked. Ethan answered everything with a stony silence, as if the only thing that would make him and his sister happy would be to have the Landons disappear.

Now Steven and Olivia hung back beside the Jeep, their heads close together as they spoke in low voices—talking about Ethan and Summer, Jack figured. His father kept rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a sure sign that he was worried.

Jack felt awkward just standing there at the cemetery entrance, so he finally called out, “Come on, Mom and Dad, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

“Why don’t you kids go on ahead?” his mother answered. “Your father and I need to talk for a minute.” Wisps of dark, curly hair escaped from underneath a baseball cap Olivia had pulled low on her forehead. She often wore T-shirts with pictures of animals on them. Today, she had on a green shirt with the footprints of different extinct species scattered across it.

“Go on, son,” Steven told Jack. “Ask Ethan and Summer to show you the Sacagawea monument. We’ll join you in a bit.”

Great, just great, Jack fumed. Well, the faster he went, the faster he could get this whole thing over with. “Summer, do you know where the grave is?”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide. Jeez, she can’t even answer a simple question, Jack thought.

“I’ll take you.” Spinning on the tips of his running shoes, Ethan led the way. Now that Ethan was out of his dancing regalia and in a white T-shirt and jeans, Jack could tell how compact yet strong he really was. His arms moved loosely at his sides as he hurried up the hill, so fast Jack and Ashley had to scramble to keep up. As he moved, shoulder-length black hair flew off his face, revealing a strong jaw set in a hard line. Although Summer looked delicate in her yellow-flowered sundress, she had enough energy to follow her brother with no apparent problem.

“Slow down,” Ashley called out, but Ethan kept moving at top speed up the narrow path. Determined not to let them beat him, Jack began to jog up the incline, leaving his sister to tag behind. Gravestones dotted the wild grass like scattered teeth, some of them tipped to one side, others with the surface worn to a smooth polish, the letters rubbed bare. Many of the markers were simple slabs of wood. Although some seemed neglected, most of the graves were adorned with bright plastic flowers in every color of the rainbow, as though someone had scattered a giant bag of candy across the barren ground. It was a wind-blown, dusty place. Hardly what he expected to see as the final resting place of someone as famous as Sacagawea.

Ethan and Summer had stopped in front of the largest tombstone. More plastic flowers adorned the grave, along with nickels, dimes, and quarters that had been pressed into the baked earth. The coins caught the sunlight and threw it back like tiny mirrors.

Casting a wide shadow, the large rectangle of granite showed the probable dates of Sacagawea’s birth and death, along with a bronze plaque that detailed her life.

“Thanks for waiting, Jack,” Ashley panted when she joined him.

“Sorry.”

“It’s OK. Wow, here it is. I’ve heard so much about her, how she was the guide for the Lewis and Clark expedition even though she was really young. I can’t believe I’m standing right at Sacagawea’s grave.” Ashley took a breath and added, “She was a Shoshone too, right?”

“Yes. But she’s not buried here,” Summer answered in a small voice. “Sacagawea died in the mountains. No one knows where her body lies. They made this to honor her.”

Ashley shot Jack a triumphant look that seemed to say, “See, she talks!” Placing her hand on Summer’s arm, Ashley said eagerly, “I think Sacagawea was a real hero.”

“To you,” Ethan said sharply. “Not to me. Not to my sister.”

Jack and Ashley looked at Ethan in surprise. “Why don’t you think she was great?” Ashley asked.

Ethan’s thick brows knit together. “She helped the white man, and the white man took all our land. My grandmother said Sacagawea should not have helped anyone but her own people.”

Nodding, Ashley tried to get him to keep talking. “I bet your grandmother taught you a lot of things, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She taught us the old ways,” Summer answered for him. “She taught us the traditional way to dress. She taught us how to cook and hunt and even how to dance, like we did today.”

Ashley beamed, triumphant over the fact that Ethan and Summer Ingawanup were finally opening up. “Do you think sometime, maybe later, you could teach Jack and me how to dance like that? I’d really like to learn.”

Ethan snickered loudly. His eyes rolled to the sky as he muttered, “I’m not teaching no white guys.”

That did it. Jack felt irritation surge through him. “Look, Ethan, whether you like it or not, the four of us are stuck together. Do you think it would kill you to stop being a jerk for a couple of weeks?”

“Jack—don’t—” Ashley began, but Jack didn’t care. He moved right in front of Ethan, staring him down, eye to eye. “You know, we didn’t ask for you to stay with us, but you’re here with our family. So why don’t you give up the attitude, OK? Then maybe we can get through this until your big sister comes back, and then you can go home and forget about us white people.”