The Big Chihuahua Page 5

  “What are you doing?” I asked, following along behind him. He kept dashing off the path and pushing his nose through the loose pine needles.

  “I’m sniffing for just the right spot,” he told me. He moved farther and farther away, slipping under bushes, going where I couldn’t follow.

  “Pepe!” I called again. “Where are you?”

  “Over here,” came his voice off to my left.

  “I can’t see you!” I called out. “Come back!” I wish I had paid more attention when Felix was trying to teach me how to get him to come when he was called.

  I hurried down the path, only to stop with a jolt. In front of me was a long narrow pen that stretched back into the woods. It was topped with the same razor wire I had seen at the front gate. There was a little hut at one end. The ground behind the fence had been cleared; it was just raw dirt.

  “Pepe!” I called. I really didn’t like the look of it. Something in the atmosphere wasn’t right. I felt a prickle at the back of my neck.

  “What is it, Geri?” said Pepe, hurrying to my side. I have to admit, he is very good at staying close when he thinks I am in trouble.

  “Why would anybody build a pen here?” I asked my dog.

  “I do not know,” said Pepe. “But there is a strong scent here.” He lifted his leg and put his own scent on the fence, then started to saunter back toward me.

  Bam! In a flash of snarling gray fur and slashing teeth and glowing yellow eyes, two wolves crashed into the chain-link fence, just inches from Pepe. They were long, rangy beasts, with wickedly sharp fangs.

  Pepe jumped back, then turned to face them, his little lip lifted and a tiny growl emitting from his throat.

  “Let’s get out of here, Pepe!” I said, bending down to scoop him up.

  “Let me speak to them, Geri,” Pepe said. “Are they not my relatives?” He faced the pen and spoke to the wolves.

  “I come to you in peace,” he said. “I am your cousin from the desert.”

  The wolves seemed to understand him. They stopped their snarling and, unbelievably, lay down in front of my dog.

  “There,” said Pepe, his tone very soothing, “that is more polite.” He said a few other things in Spanish, and the wolves nodded and whined like little puppies.

  “Pepe,” I said, still feeling a bit nervous, “how did you do that?”

  He turned to me and said proudly, “Elementary, my dear Sullivan. When a Chihuahua and a wolf go perro a perro, the best dog always wins.” He laughed and added, “Seriamente, though, I simply calmed them with my dulcimer voice. They knew I was not a threat, and they certainly knew you were no threat.”

  I didn’t know if I should be insulted by that or not but felt it was high time to get away from there. Those wolves were obviously meant to guard the ranch, and I didn’t want to take any chances.

  We were heading back to the room when one of the green-clad acolytes approached us. This time it was an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard and gold-rimmed glasses. He introduced himself as Flint.

  “The enlightened one requests the honor of your company,” he said.

  “What?”

  “The enlightened one would like to speak to you,” he repeated.

  “I think he means Dogawanda,” Pepe said.

  “Do you mean Dogawanda?”

  “Yes, he is very interested in your little companion,” Flint said, bowing in Pepe’s direction. “He wishes to converse with him on matters of great importance for the world. Would you follow me, please?”

  I looked at Pepe, unsure of what to do.

  “Finally,” said Pepe, trotting after the guy, his little tail wagging, “someone who wants to listen to me.”

  Chapter 10

  Flint took us along a curving path that led behind the buildings and toward the yurt that stood in the center of the higher meadow at the far end of the property. It was about thirty feet tall and was constructed of hides draped over multiple wooden poles. From the open door one could see out across a valley of evergreens and up to the snow-capped peaks of the Cascade Range. Behind it was a fenced garden where I could see green-clad acolytes working among a tangle of plants and flowers growing in raised beds.

  “You are very lucky,” Flint said. “The yurt is reserved for private sessions with Dogawanda. Usually you have to be a level four before you get a chance to meet with him one-on-one.”

  “What level are you?” I asked. “How long does it take to get to level four?”

  “I’m only a level three,” he said. “Very few make it to level four.”

  “What would it take to get to level four?”

  He shrugged. “It depends. Dogawanda decides when you are ready.”

  “So how many people are at level four?” I asked, knowing already that Fox Black was a level four.

  “Maybe seven of the people in the inner circle,” he said.

  “The inner circle?”

  “Star’s personal assistants. And a couple of celebrities who come here regularly, like Fox Black.”

  Just as he was saying this, the flap that hung over the door lifted, and Fox Black appeared. He was wearing ripped jeans and a tight T-shirt on his skinny frame. His arms were covered with tattoos. He tossed back his long, dark hair as he emerged to get it out of his eyes and then stopped and stared at me and Pepe.

  “So this is the lucky little fellow,” he said, looking over Pepe but also checking me out from head to toe and back again. He held out a hand. “Fox Black,” he said.

  “I . . . I know,” I stammered, putting out my hand. “I’m a big fan.” Well, that certainly seemed lame. But he didn’t seem fazed. Must be used to women falling apart in his presence. This close up to him, it was easy to see the ravages of his lifestyle: the sunken cheekbones, the dark circles under his eyes, the unhealthy pallor of his skin. But he was still so sexy with those dark, piercing eyes and those thick, luscious lips....

  Oh my God, he was bringing my hand up to his mouth. He was nibbling on the back of my hand with those big, sexy lips. I suddenly became light-headed. He smelled like incense and jasmine.

  “Geri,” said Pepe. “Please exercise some self-control.”

  Flint had gone ahead into the yurt. With one last long lingering look at Fox Black, I followed Pepe inside.

  The interior was magnificent. All the poles that created the structure of the yurt curved up toward a central opening, perhaps twenty feet above our heads, which framed a view of the blue sky. Light filtered down, like a spotlight falling upon the tousled blond hair of Crystal Star, who was sprawled on a fur-draped platform in the center, wearing a magenta silk caftan trimmed with gold braid. The elderly Weimaraner slumbered by her side, his eyes closed. He was in a Sphinx-like position with his paws stretched out, and his head resting on them.

  Flint bowed low in front of her, announced us as “Geri Sullivan and her Chihuahua, Pepe,” and backed out of the room.

  “Have a seat,” said Star in a pretty, girlish voice. She waved her hand at a padded red-velvet bench that was in front of the platform. It was very low to the ground, so we had to look up at her. Pepe hopped up to sit by my side.

  “Do you know,” I asked her, “that there are wild wolves in a pen in the woods?”

  Star nodded. “Yes, someone gave them to me. Poor things. Wolf-dog hybrids. They were going to put them down, but I said we would take them and give them a safe place to live here. If anyone can teach them how to get along with humans, it is Dogawanda.”

  Pepe gave a soft growl.

  “Your little dog has a big heart,” said Star.

  “It is true,” I said, my own heart suddenly swelling with love for my furry companion. He would protect me with his life. I knew that.

  “Dogawanda is very interested in your companion,” she said. “He senses that he has much to say.”

  “That is true,” I said. For some reason, I didn’t feel like elaborating on Pepe’s special talents.

  “Dogawanda asked me to bring him here to a
sk him some questions. Will you permit that?”

  I nodded.

  She nodded as well. “I will now channel Dogawanda, who is inhabiting the body of Max.” She stroked the head of the Weimaraner. “Max is ready for retirement. At fourteen, he tires easily, but his indomitable spirit keeps him going. He has been serving as a vessel for Dogawanda for over eleven years. Even when he appears to be asleep, Dogawanda is present in him. The session will end when Dogawanda departs. Of course, I always record these sessions.” She reached out and tapped on a tape recorder that sat on a lacquered black table below the platform. I noticed her nails were painted gold. “With your permission, of course.” She didn’t wait for my assent. “That is the only way I will know what Dogawanda said.”

  Star rested her gold-tipped fingers on the head of the slumbering Weimaraner, closed her eyes, and then began swaying gently back and forth. There was silence in the room. I could hear the Weimaraner snoring.

  Pepe sneezed. I think the incense was bothering him.

  “We should go, Geri,” said Pepe. “I do not like the smell of this.”

  “Hold on a minute,” I said. “I just want to see what happens.”

  Star’s eyes suddenly opened wide and she fixed her gaze on Pepe. “Towering Cedar,” she said to him, her voice husky, “I, Dogawanda, bid you welcome.”

  Pepe was startled. “How did he . . . ?” he asked me. “I mean, how did she know my made-up name?”

  “I didn’t tell her,” I said, as mystified as my dog. Then I remembered. “Maybe it was Tammy. I think I mentioned your name to her.”

  “Why do you believe I learned your name from one of the human animals?” Dogawanda asked in a gruff voice. “Dogawanda knows the roots of the trees, the blue of the sky, the cry of the crows. Dogawanda knows all. That is how he knows you are Towering Cedar.”

  “OK,” said Pepe, who seemed at a loss for words. Which was rare for him.

  “You are the little dog who has come to teach us how to be big,” Dogawanda intoned. “Now tell me, Towering Cedar, what is the First Commandment of the Dog?”

  “All roads lead to Dogawanda,” said Pepe. Dogawanda smiled. “Thus you know why you came hither. All the roads you have ever trod have brought you to me. You may well be the road that others follow to my enlightenment.”

  “I am not a road,” said Pepe. “I am a Chihuahua.” He turned to me, puzzled. “It seems she can hear what I say.”

  “It is I, Dogawanda, who hears you speak!” roared Dogawanda. “And do not forget that. As long as you are faithful to Dogawanda, I will raise you up to a position of power. Multitudes will come to listen to your wisdom. You will lead them down the road less traveled . . .”

  “Is that not a line from Robert Frost?” Pepe asked me.

  “. . . so by that road,” Dogawanda went on, “others will follow you as you have followed Dogawanda.”

  “See, Geri,” Pepe said, “I told you that I was your fortune.”

  Dogawanda turned his attention to me, or rather Star did, turning her golden eyes on me.

  “You have been given a mighty trust,” she said, “a companion who is blessed with mighty powers, one who can channel the wisdom of the dog, who can inspire the adulation of the multitudes. But to be equal to his talents, you must rise up yourself. Dogawanda exhorts you to step firmly on the Way of the Dog. My vessel, Crystal Star, can teach you all that you need to know. Otherwise you will be swept off your path, as if by a tsunami.”

  “Perhaps I should be called Tsunami,” said Pepe, sounding proud of himself. “No, I like Towering Cedar better.”

  “Dogawanda must bid you adieu for now. But think carefully on what I have said. Your destiny is in your hands. And since it is always now, know that I am always with you until next we speak. Thus this is aloha, not good-bye.”

  Star let out a gasp and went limp. She stayed slumped over for a long time. I was just thinking I might have to give her CPR when she lifted her head, her whole body quivering and shaking.

  “Star, are you OK?” I asked, getting up and going over to her.

  “I have never felt such a strong connection,” she told me, still shaking but looking radiant, almost beatific. “You will be attending the evening session, won’t you?”

  “Well . . . ,” I started to say.

  “We must stay, Geri,” Pepe told me. “We can drive back tomorrow. I want to hear more about what Dogawanda says that I say.”

  “OK,” I said.

  Star’s eyebrows went up. “That’s a good sign,” she said. “You show much aptitude. I think you would benefit immensely from the training we provide in level two. It teaches you how to think like a dog. You can register for it as soon as you complete the introductory session.”

  “I can teach you how to think like a dog,” said Pepe, “and I will not charge you for it, either. Come to think of it, though, I could use a little extra spending money.”

  Star came forward and held my hands. “You have a special gift, my dear. You must cultivate it.” She pressed a motherly kiss upon my forehead and gathered me into an embrace, which left me smelling like jasmine. “You are truly ready to begin your training, Dogawanda be praised!”

  Chapter 11

  The evening session went on far into the night, again in the Longhouse, with incense burning constantly. We recited the Seven Commandments of Dogawanda over and over again. Pretty soon it became hypnotic. So hypnotic that I can hardly remember when it ended and we finally got to bed.

  I woke up at one point during the night to the howls of the wolf-dogs in the woods. Pepe growled in response. It was a menacing sound, but it made me feel better. I knew he would protect me.

  Pepe was up bright and early in the morning and woke me up, chattering about the morning session where he hoped to learn more about himself. We headed over to the lodge for breakfast, which was when I found out that there was no coffee—evidently, caffeine was not part of a Paleolithic diet. I looked around for Tammy, but she was nowhere in sight. Maybe she had the good sense to sleep in.

  My head was pounding from the lack of caffeine when we gathered in the Longhouse for the morning session. But a bigger hurt awaited me when Crystal Star appeared onstage and announced that Leaf was missing. She had disappeared during the night.

  “I want everyone to form search parties!” Star announced. “It is not like dear Leaf to be absent. If some harm has befallen her, I will never forgive myself !” The Dogawandans fanned out, searching for the missing woman. Artichoke was responsible for assigning people to go in various directions. She sent them out in pairs, like spokes in a wheel, to cover all of the twenty-plus acres that made up the Dogawandan property.

  Those of us who were there for the introductory meeting were just supposed to stay in the Longhouse, but Pepe wanted to investigate.

  “They are searching the property,” Pepe said. “But maybe she just decided to leave. She seemed distressed when she heard about her dog. We should go look for her scent in the parking lot. Vamanos! ”

  “Yes. Maybe she had the good sense to go back to her husband and her dog,” I said. “That would certainly be the best for everybody.”

  We headed out of the Longhouse and down the path toward the front gate and the parking lot. Pepe zigzagged back and forth. “It is strange,” he said, “but I do not smell any trace of her in this direction.”

  The day was already quite warm. The sun was beating down on my pounding head. We passed my beat-up old green Toyota, and I thought how great it would be to get in and just drive away. But then we’d be letting so many people down: Jimmy G, Mark Darling, and Tammy.

  “I am catching a scent,” said Pepe, “but it is not one I like!” He moved toward the other end of the parking lot where a crude dirt road led up through a grove of trees.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Follow me, Geri.” He trotted up the road and then stopped. I saw that we were on the edge of what seemed to be a construction site. The ground had been leveled and then raked into
even plateaus of reddish brown dirt. I could see the bulldozer and backhoe that had done the work parked in the far corner of the big lot. Beyond that was a spectacular view of the valley with the river winding through it.

  Pepe lifted his head, sniffing the air. “Muy malo!” he said.

  “What? What are you smelling?”

  “Wait here!” he said. He dashed off toward the bushes on the far side of the lot. I hurried after him. I was not going to let my dog tell me what to do!

  When I caught up to him, he was sniffing along the bottom edge of a bank of blackberry brambles that were thick with white blooms. I caught glimpses of color: a brighter green than the leaves, pale white, flashes of red.

  “What is it, Pepe?” I asked.

  “Something you should not see,” he declared. He tried to rush at me to push me back, but I ignored him and crouched down to see what he was looking at. I saw a pale arm, extended, palm up, fingers curled toward the sky. Livid red stripes ran along its length.

  She lay twisted and nude upon the ground, her body covered with vivid scratches. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were blue. Her red braid was twisted around her neck.

  “It’s Tammy!” I said.

  “Sí,” said Pepe. “Pobrecita.”

  “She’s dead,” I said.

  “Sí, and Fuzzy has lost her human,” said Pepe mournfully.

  Tears were running down my cheeks. I brushed them aside. I bent down to touch her skin, but it was cold and damp.

  “We must notify the authorities,” Pepe said.

  “Yes, and tell the Dogawandans!”

  “They are nearby,” said Pepe. “I can hear voices. Call them!”

  “Help! Help!” I cried. “Over here! I found her!”

  Pepe joined me, giving a few tiny howls.

  A few minutes later, we heard crashing in the bushes very near to where we were, and Artichoke came charging through the brambles. Her long dark hair had come loose and was tangled with leaves.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  I stepped aside and pointed at the body.