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Authors: Aimée and David Thurlo
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get it. You’ve heard about all that skinwalker nonsense. It’s just mumbo jumbo, someoneout to scare others,” he said, and shrugged.
“Wait—are you saying that a witch killed that guy?” Eileen asked, staring wide-eyed at Ella.
“We don’t know who the killer was yet,” Ella said, “but since we’re on the subject, have either of you seen any evidence of skinwalkers in this area?”
“When people get spooked, they talk themselves into believing a lot of crazy things,” Truman said, his tonesomber. “Norman Yazzie once accused me of being a skinwalker, but I don’t think he really believes it. He was just angry because I refuse to let him take a shortcut through my property to get to his grandmother’s house. He’s already destroyed some plants in Eileen’s vegetable garden with that truck of his, and he’s created deep ruts that’ll become flood channels next time we get a hard rain. I’vetold him all that, but he doesn’t listen.”
“Norman’s a real jerk,” Eileen added.
“I put up some rabbit-proof fencing around Eileen’s garden to protect it, and the very next morning, I found what looked like a coyote skin on the fence. I’m thinking Norman got angry because I blocked him off, so he decided to make me look like a skinwalker.”
“Are you sure it was him?” Ella asked.
“Well, I didn’tactually catch him leaving it there, but who else would have done something like that?” Truman said.
“Do you still have the animal skin?” Ella asked.
“No, I put it in a trash bag and took it to the landfill. That way it couldn’t turn up again,” Truman said.
Silence stretched out, but Ella didn’t interrupt. Long pauses were common among the Diné . To try to speed up a conversation was seen asrude at best, and in her case, it was counterproductive.
Eventually, Eileen spoke, her voice low. “This area has changed a lot. It’s not peaceful like it used to be. Evil’s close by and likes to leave bad things for others to find.”
“Like what?” Ella pressed.
“Charcoal sandpaintings,” she said in a near whisper. “Real medicine men make those with colored sand and use them to heal. Sandpaintings,well, some call them drypaintings, are sacred. To make them with charcoal defiles everything they stand for, which is why witches do that.”
“Of course, I’ve destroyed the three we’ve seen beside the road between here and the highway,” Truman said. “I’ve also come across dead animals strung up on fences. When I find crap like that, I get rid of it. Someone’s out to scare people, and there’s nosense in creating a panic.”
“How long ago has it been since you saw either of those things?” Ella asked.
“Let me think,” Truman said, then stared at the floor for several seconds. “Two weeks ago, maybe less.”
“One of those charcoal drypaintings was left right in front of our drive,” Eileen said, and shuddered.
After everyone had eaten another piece of fry bread in silence, Ella wiped her lipswith one of the paper towels and stood. “All right. Thank you both,” she said. “We’ve got to get going. Maybe Mrs. Yazzie will be able to add to what you’ve already told us.”
“If we hear or see anything that might help, we’ll give you a call, Investigator Clah. Do you have a card?” Truman asked.
Ella gave him hers, then walked with Justine to the door.
“One last thing,” Truman said, “that is,if you don’t mind a little advice.”
Ella stopped. “Go ahead.”
“Mrs. Yazzie is a hard-core Traditionalist, and if you start talking about skinwalkers, she’ll probably throw you out.”
“Good to know, thanks,” Ella said.
“Not too long ago, I noticed that she’d brought in a hataalii and had a Sing done,” Eileen said. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a feeling she found something on her propertythat scared her.”
“Thanks,” Ella said, stepping outside.
“And for the fry bread, too,” Justine added.
They walked back to
“Wait—are you saying that a witch killed that guy?” Eileen asked, staring wide-eyed at Ella.
“We don’t know who the killer was yet,” Ella said, “but since we’re on the subject, have either of you seen any evidence of skinwalkers in this area?”
“When people get spooked, they talk themselves into believing a lot of crazy things,” Truman said, his tonesomber. “Norman Yazzie once accused me of being a skinwalker, but I don’t think he really believes it. He was just angry because I refuse to let him take a shortcut through my property to get to his grandmother’s house. He’s already destroyed some plants in Eileen’s vegetable garden with that truck of his, and he’s created deep ruts that’ll become flood channels next time we get a hard rain. I’vetold him all that, but he doesn’t listen.”
“Norman’s a real jerk,” Eileen added.
“I put up some rabbit-proof fencing around Eileen’s garden to protect it, and the very next morning, I found what looked like a coyote skin on the fence. I’m thinking Norman got angry because I blocked him off, so he decided to make me look like a skinwalker.”
“Are you sure it was him?” Ella asked.
“Well, I didn’tactually catch him leaving it there, but who else would have done something like that?” Truman said.
“Do you still have the animal skin?” Ella asked.
“No, I put it in a trash bag and took it to the landfill. That way it couldn’t turn up again,” Truman said.
Silence stretched out, but Ella didn’t interrupt. Long pauses were common among the Diné . To try to speed up a conversation was seen asrude at best, and in her case, it was counterproductive.
Eventually, Eileen spoke, her voice low. “This area has changed a lot. It’s not peaceful like it used to be. Evil’s close by and likes to leave bad things for others to find.”
“Like what?” Ella pressed.
“Charcoal sandpaintings,” she said in a near whisper. “Real medicine men make those with colored sand and use them to heal. Sandpaintings,well, some call them drypaintings, are sacred. To make them with charcoal defiles everything they stand for, which is why witches do that.”
“Of course, I’ve destroyed the three we’ve seen beside the road between here and the highway,” Truman said. “I’ve also come across dead animals strung up on fences. When I find crap like that, I get rid of it. Someone’s out to scare people, and there’s nosense in creating a panic.”
“How long ago has it been since you saw either of those things?” Ella asked.
“Let me think,” Truman said, then stared at the floor for several seconds. “Two weeks ago, maybe less.”
“One of those charcoal drypaintings was left right in front of our drive,” Eileen said, and shuddered.
After everyone had eaten another piece of fry bread in silence, Ella wiped her lipswith one of the paper towels and stood. “All right. Thank you both,” she said. “We’ve got to get going. Maybe Mrs. Yazzie will be able to add to what you’ve already told us.”
“If we hear or see anything that might help, we’ll give you a call, Investigator Clah. Do you have a card?” Truman asked.
Ella gave him hers, then walked with Justine to the door.
“One last thing,” Truman said, “that is,if you don’t mind a little advice.”
Ella stopped. “Go ahead.”
“Mrs. Yazzie is a hard-core Traditionalist, and if you start talking about skinwalkers, she’ll probably throw you out.”
“Good to know, thanks,” Ella said.
“Not too long ago, I noticed that she’d brought in a hataalii and had a Sing done,” Eileen said. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a feeling she found something on her propertythat scared her.”
“Thanks,” Ella said, stepping outside.
“And for the fry bread, too,” Justine added.
They walked back to
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