Mutt Jones and the Flute of Fire
Fandom - Indiana Jones
Paring - Indy/Marion
Disclaimer - I do not own.
Notes - I will be making up 'legends' for my Anasazi Characters. So unless I specifically state that this legend or that is a real one, plese treat all legends as made up by me. We shall call it creative licensing.
A/n - None
Chapter 1 - Utah Bound
"Think of it this way," Marion Jones said with a smirk of a smile on her round lips, "This visit to Grandpa Jones will give you more of an understanding of Indy," she laughed. Mutt gave his mother the evil eye. He knew that married couples go on Honeymoons, but he didn't know why he had to go to Utah and spend the rest of his summer with an old man he knew absolutely nothing about.
"Mom, why can't I stray with Oxley?" Mutt asked, for the fourth hundredth time. The answer, he knew, wouldn't change. But, he had to try.
"Oxley is in need of a quiet holiday and its never a quiet holiday when the Jones' are around," Marion giggled. Mutt put the last bag into the back of the white car. They had taken a side trip to Indy's home where they had been staying for the four weeks since their trip with the Crystal Skulls - They would all be arriving at the same air port, however, Mutt was bound for Utah while his parents went to help an old friend on a dig in the Caribbean.
Mutt wished that he could go, but, he didn't want to hear any weird noises coming from their bedroom - so, in a way it was a good thing that they would be separated for a little while. He shut the boot of the car and turned back to his mother. In side, Indy was giving the house keeper last moment instructions.
"Don't get yourself kidnapped," Mutt said.
"We'll be fine, its you I'm worried about," Marion replied.
"Me? I'm only going to spend two months in a small town with, gee, I don't know, NOTHING to do!" Mutt rolled his eyes. Marion brought him into a hug.
"It's dangerous for a Jones to get bored," she muttered into his ear.
_ _ _
The plain came to a stop in what looked like a corn field. Mutt tried to hold back a sneer but it didn't exactly work. All he could see was brown, yellow and speckles on the ground. It wasn't green, not like New York. He missed Indy's home all ready. He had been enamored with it when he had visited first, when he and the Professor had been researching Oxley's letter.
He liked the old place. Maybe Grandpa Jones wouldn't be all that bad, possibly have even older stuff than Indy. Mutt had to admit that the artifact Indy had was something of a curiosity, it had gotten him to the library on more than one occasion. Mostly because he didn't think that Indy would tell him what it was or where it had come from and the story of how he, Indy, had come across it in the first place.
Possibly - that was something that Son learnt from Father - and now he was learning it, though, he wondered if it was more of a learning tool than anything else. He did have hopes of passing the history class when he finally did go back to school.
Mutt exited the small, ten person, craft and looked around. He had his two bags with him, and was bereft of his Motorcycle, which had been found in Peru and sent back to him. Thankfully, nothing was missing and she was in good shape but Indy hadn't wanted Mutt to bring the machine with him - because people didn't like loud noises.
Mutt made his way to the only building beside the tin hangar that housed the plain; it was a very small gift shop, well, it was supposed to be a gift shop. It looked more of a saloon as he stepped inside. There was a soda bar, thank god. He made his way towards it. He sat down beside a man with white hair, he wore a brown tweed suit, wore wire rimmed glasses and he had that chin.
"Pepsi, please," Mutt said to the Barista. The old man had water, it was getting brown by the blowing dust. Mutt pulled a face.
"So, uh…do you know where Mr. Jones' home is?" Mutt asked all of a sudden, "You see, I'm his grandkid and I'm visiting for the summer," he explained quickly. Some how, it seemed that this man liked simple and concise sentences. He liked people to make their point and leave him alone.
"I don't know about his home," the man's deep Scottish accent made Mutt relax a bit, "But you've found Henry Jones Senior Senior," he replied. Mutt almost fainted dead away.
"You're Indy's Pop?" Mutt asked.
"If you mean Henry Junior, than yes," the man replied with a small smirk.
"I'm Mutt," he held out a hand, Grandpa Jones took it into his. Mutt's soda was served and he took a long swallow.
"So, why Utah?" Mutt finally asked.
"Its quiet, no one bothers anyone else," Henry replied.
"Did you have adventures like Indy?"
"Sometimes, but Junior is more adept at them than I ever will be," Henry laughed, "Tell me, Mutt, what is your official full name?"
Mutt cringed; "Henry David Jones Jr."
Henry laughed.
_ _ _
The house was a two story home that was painted brown, had a nice little vegetable garden to the side, and behind the house was a barn with two horses. Henry Showed Mutt the property first, then the house.
The property was huge, as far as Mutt could figure, enough room to exercise the horses without going onto someone else's land. Some of the land had belong to some Anasazi friends that Henry knew and had bought from because they had been in need of the money.
"The Indian Reservation is twenty miles from here. You'll know it when you come to a fence, don't cross it," Henry warned. Mutt nodded. He didn't even know how to ride a horse, so that wouldn't be a problem.
There was a small apple orchard that started besides the horse coral and went on for the long miles of the property till - in the distance - it came to several log cabins.
"Those were built by Elsu, or Flying Falcon, as he likes for most people to call him," Henry explained. Mutt nodded.
"You'll meet him tomorrow, his family is going to come and have dinner with us, I told them that you were coming for a visit,"
"That's cool, Grandpa," Mutt smiled in trepidation.
- - -
A/N - Elsu does mean Flying Falcon, I didn't make that up. I don't know it what Indian language that is though.