Part 12

Dreams were strange things, Maria mused as she opened her eyes and squinted against the sunlight streaming through her window. Her mind had apparently chosen to take a walk through what little she could recall from her brush with danger the day before. It was funny the way dreams took such simple events and twisted them around to create such a surreal reality. There had to be something to explain the flash of light she had seen, but she had her doubts that Michael had used some sort of weapon to blast the rocks before they could strike her.

"Yeah, you've been living in Roswell too long, girl." She wasn't going to get any answers from her dreams; she needed to go back to the place where it had happened. If she didn't figure this out, her overactive imagination was going to have Michael turning green and cruising the skies of New Mexico in a flying saucer. She giggled as she rolled out of bed and stretched, wincing when she felt the twinge in her shoulder.

She turned around and stared hard at her reflection as she gently rubbed the sore spot on her right shoulder. There was a completely rational explanation, she was sure of it. "I hit my head," she muttered, "that must be it." She frowned as she twisted around and tried in vain to see the back of her head. There must be… she thought, but as she reached up to probe her skull in hopes of finding even the smallest tender area she flashed back to the moment when she had landed on the ground while Michael shielded her with his own body. She hadn't hit her head, she realized as hysteria began to set in. His hand had kept her head from colliding with the ground. Which means the head injury theory's out.

"Okay, Maria, think about it," she ordered her reflection. "You're not making any sense and if you can't blame it on a head injury, there must be another explanation for that damn flash of light." There is, her mind taunted her, he's an alien. She hurried to grab a small vial of cedar oil off of her dresser and unscrewed the cap, inhaling the scent that normally calmed her down. Her nerves settled, but only minimally.

"Not an alien, not an alien, not an alien," she chanted, pacing around her room and inhaling the cedar oil's rich scent every few seconds. Feeling sufficiently calmed she found herself standing in front of the mirror once more and wondered if conversing with one's self could be considered a reasonable cause for a one-way trip to the funny farm. She shook her head and walked to the other side of the room. "Okay, shake it off, girl," she ordered. "You're not crazy, despite what other people think."

Maybe it had something to do with the time they had spent together the day before, she mused thoughtfully. It had been a magical day and Michael himself was… what was the word? He was different from any other guy she had ever known, but what was it that set him apart from everyone else? Obviously being raised on the reservation by Indians who were some of the most spiritual people in the world was a factor, but he was… what? Mystical? Otherworldly?

She rolled her eyes and growled when her thoughts once again turned to the paranormal. "He's not an alien," she denied aloud, as if speaking the words would make them true. She had grown up surrounded by the mythology created in the wake of the '47 crash, she spent most of her days serving greasy food to the odd assortment of people who blew through town as they chased one UFO sighting after another, and while she had never discounted the possibility of life "out there" she really didn't believe they were just hanging out on planet Earth.

She snorted suddenly. "Maybe you just need to get your eyes checked because you're obviously seeing things." She faced her reflection from across the room and shook her head at herself. "He's not an alien and you're gonna prove it."

But how? She tried to piece the events together but everything had happened so fast that she just couldn't make it make sense. She was missing something, some vital piece of the puzzle that would make everything fall into place. A quick glance at her clock showed that it was just before eleven; if she hurried she could make it out to the reservation by noon.

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River Dog walked along the stream, unaware of the heat that beat down on him as the sun climbed higher in the sky. He had spent most of his life on the reservation, conscious of the changes that occurred on a daily basis in the world outside of their borders. As a young man, he had ventured out past the boundaries of the reservation, living in the city for a year before he had been unable to handle the confinement any longer.

It was funny how people from the outside saw the reservation as confining. For him, it was freedom to be who he was, to be a part of something that was so much bigger than him. It wasn't a life that most people in the outside world would be comfortable with, but he suspected that the reverse was also true.

He leaned down to pick up a long stick, studying it closely before deciding that with a little work it would make a good walking stick. Like many of the others who lived on the Rez, he used what nature provided to make a living, and walking sticks sold well. He wasn't sure why since most of the tourists who came through and bought them looked like they rarely saw much of the outdoors.

"Grandpa!"

He turned and waved his free hand to acknowledge his granddaughter's greeting before going back to his perusal of the horizon, studying it for several minutes while he waited for the teenagers to reach him.

"Grandpa, you need to talk to Michael," Maggie insisted, her tone urgent.

River Dog turned and leaned against a large boulder, intently scanning their features for some clue as to why they were there. Michael appeared just as solemn as he normally was, but there was an underlying tension in his tall frame. His sister, though, was bursting with nervous energy, which was completely at odds with her usual serene demeanor.

He had been expecting a visit from Michael since the day he had met Maria out at Grey Wolf's place, but he hadn't expected Maggie to tag along with him. He waited patiently, knowing she would be off and running at any minute.

"You have to tell him he can't tell his girlfriend the truth, Grandpa! He thinks it might come to that because of something that happened yesterday – not that he'll tell me what it was – but, it's a risk that's too big to even…" Maggie fell silent when River Dog held a hand up, stopping the flow of words.

"I'm sure your brother appreciates your opinion, Maggie, as we all do," River Dog said, biting back a smile, "but, perhaps this is a conversation he did not intend to have with you here."

"Grandpa, this is serious!" She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. When he didn't give in after several minutes she threw her arms up in the air. "Fine." She turned to her brother and held her right hand out. "I'll need the keys to the truck."

Michael took a step back and shoved the keys in his pocket. "No."

"How do you expect me to go anywhere then?"

"Call Linda or Christina to come get you."

"At nine o'clock? On a Sunday morning?" She huffed indignantly and stalked back along the path that led back to her grandfather's home. "Fine. Just remember that you owe me, Michael!" she shouted over her shoulder.

River Dog chuckled at her temperamental behavior and shook his head before turning to regard his grandson. "So, you've decided to tell Maria the truth?"

"No." Michael kicked a rock across the ground and shrugged his wide shoulders. "It's just that she nearly got hurt yesterday and I used my powers to protect her." He leaned over to pick up another rock, running his fingers over the smooth, flat surface. "I think it's possible that maybe she saw somethin' she shouldn't have seen and I'm not really sure what to do about it." He paced back and forth, unable to remain still while his mind was racing with different scenarios.

"You're not sure she actually saw anything?" the old man asked, his sharp gaze following his grandson's restless movements.

"No, I'm not sure." He turned to look at his grandfather. "What should I do?"

"Do you feel like you know her well enough to tell her the truth?" He nodded after several minutes of silence. "If she doesn't suspect anything then I think it would be best to wait until you do feel like you know her well enough and you're comfortable with her knowing the truth."

"And if she does suspect that somethin' out of the ordinary happened?" Michael skipped the stone across the calm surface of the water. "What do I do then? What do I tell her?"

River Dog's gaze searched his grandson's face, easily reading the mixed emotions there. He could see that Michael wanted to tell Maria the truth, but he was afraid to take that step. The boy knew perfectly well what could happen if his secret fell into the wrong hands but at the same time, he was a regular seventeen-year-old boy who was fast approaching the age of eighteen, and he was falling in love with a young girl. And like most human boys, he wanted to be with her, to be able to talk to her, to confide in her, to not have to hide who he really was. He sighed. Michael had a hard decision to make and he knew that the boy expected him to put him on the right path. Would Maria DeLuca be able to deal with Michael's alien side? Maria DeLuca… Amy DeLuca's daughter. River Dog thought back to the first time he had met Maria's mother and a small smile lit up his face. Maybe that was the answer.

"Do you know that the first time I met Amy DeLuca, she had handcuffed herself to the front bumper of an eighteen-wheeler on a reservation up in Oklahoma? Oil had been discovered on the Rez and the government was moving equipment in to start drilling despite the fact that the land belongs to the Indians there. She and her little group caused quite a scene, handcuffed to different parts of this truck, protesting the government's theft of resources that belonged to the Indians. Then when they came in to arrest them she managed to hold them off until some reporter friend of hers arrived to cover the story." He shook his head. "She had even hassled a couple of government officials into coming out to see what was going on."

"You're tellin' me Maria's crazy mother held off cops and everyone else until the right people got there to see what was goin' on." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How?"

"Well, it was mostly for show; the police on the Rez had no reason to stop her group from protesting. The longer it lasted the more time it gave her reporter friend to get there with the government officials." His lined face broke out in a smile. "She was pregnant with Maria at the time, but she was well taken care of by everyone. She's been a very good friend to our people, Michael, and I don't know her daughter, but I do know her."

"Meanin' what exactly?"

"Amy is a very open-minded woman and she cares deeply for those who are different. I am certain that her daughter must be quite similar in character." Amusement lit up his dark eyes. "After all, you are different, and it is obvious that Maria already cares for you." He chuckled when Michael scowled and kicked another rock. "Her mother is strongly guided by the spirits; she has a strong character and deeply ingrained morals."

He moved across the distance that separated them and placed a hand on the boy's right shoulder. "If you come to that crossroad and it becomes necessary for you to make the decision to reveal the truth or cover it up, tell her the truth."

"You don't think she'll freak out?" Michael asked hopefully.

River Dog laughed at Michael's question. Amy was one of a kind that was for sure. Chances were that Maria had inherited her mother's… unique disposition. "She is her mother's daughter, Michael. There's a reasonable expectation of some…" he cleared his throat, "overreaction, on her part, but, I don't believe she'll pose any threat to you."

Michael contemplated his grandfather's answer as he stared into the stream. "So, you think I should tell her."

River Dog shook his head. "I'm not telling you what you should do, boy. I just think if you come to that crossroad and you opt to try to come up with a cover story, you'll regret not telling her the truth." He moved back to lean against the boulder once more. "Tell me honestly – have you given any thought to what it would be like to tell her the truth?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I don't know. In my mind it keeps comin' down to that moment where she learns the truth and at that point, I just go blank."

"You're scared to think of her reaction."

"Wouldn't you be?" Michael snapped.

"Because you care about her." River Dog watched his grandson as he started to pace again. "Michael, I know you've always had your reservations about getting involved, and I'm not discounting your fears because they are valid, but you've invited her to come out on more than one occasion." He smiled and shook his head. "She's a little crazy, Magnum."

The teasing words had the desired effect; Michael relaxed fractionally and moved to lean back against the boulder beside his grandfather. "She is kinda crazy," he said, laughing quietly. "Crazy enough to keep comin' round here to see me."

River Dog nudged him with his elbow. "She likes you."

Michael sighed heavily. "I hope it's enough."

"Michael, take some advice from an old man; don't stress yourself out over something that may or may not happen." He reached over to pat the younger man's shoulder. "And trust your instincts where she's concerned."

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Maria was singing along with the radio – loudly – as she drove onto the reservation and followed the route to Michael's house. She pulled up into his driveway a short while later and climbed out of the car, pocketing the keys before walking up to the front door. She had hoped to catch him at home but after knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell didn't bring anyone out she realized that the house was empty. She wondered if he was going to be back soon as she looked around at the desert and the mountains in the distance. She sat on the front porch for a few minutes, paced back and forth for another few minutes, and sat on the hood of the car for a few minutes, before she decided the waiting was driving her insane.

She finally couldn't take it any longer and she walked around the house and down to the barn, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool interior. She stopped at the stall where Rascal was housed and smiled when the mare poked her head over the stall door and nickered to get her attention.

"Hi there," she whispered, reaching up to stroke the shiny neck. "You wouldn't happen to know where Michael is, would you?" She chuckled when the mare nudged her roughly and snuffled as she searched for a treat. "I didn't bring you a snack, you pig." She had seen Michael give the horses sugar cubes the day before so she knew right away what the mare was looking for.

She walked along the breezeway, looking into the stalls that lined both sides. She paused at the stall where Sundance was housed, staring at the horse for several long seconds. When he stamped his hooves against the ground she decided she had seen enough of him and she went back to Rascal's stall. Eventually, she became tired of standing around and she sat down on a bale of straw, wondering if Michael was going to be back soon.

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Liz sat down across from Alex just as one of the waitresses was clearing away his empty plates. She had finished her shift half an hour ago and she had the rest of the day free.

"What're you looking at?" she asked, nodding at the computer magazine lying open on the table between them.

"New software packages," he answered, knowing she wouldn't go any further with the question. She could talk about biology and science stuff for hours on end but she had no interest in computers beyond their relation to her field of study.

"So, I guess you haven't discovered anything new with the letter?"

"Not yet. We'll figure it out though." He flipped through several pages, scanning over the encryption software.

Liz shook her head at his statement but not because she didn't believe him. No, if Alex said he was going to figure it out she knew he would no matter how long it took. It was his use of the word we'll; Alex had a habit of referring to his computer as if it were an entity capable of independent thought. He really needed to get a girlfriend and interact with humans more often. Or an alien, she thought, smiling when she glanced up and saw Max and Isabel getting out of the jeep.

Alex had been captivated by Isabel Evans since the first day she and Max had started attending grade school with them. Even though the tall blonde had never been nice to him Alex had always had a soft spot for her and she had never understood it.

"Any chance you're planning to ask Isabel out?"

"Yes, Liz, because then my humiliation could be both public and complete." He flipped over to the next page to study the external hard drives. "Even with everything that's goin' on she barely acknowledges my existence."

"That's never stopped you before."

That caught his attention and he looked up at her, shaking his head in warning. "Leave it alone, Liz." He nodded at something over her shoulder. "You've got plans?"

Liz turned her head, smiling at Max. "We're going to a movie."

"Well, I've gotta get back to that letter." He glanced at his watch. "My parents should be gone by now so I'll talk to you later." He nodded at Max when they passed each other.

"Is he okay?" Max asked, sitting down across from Liz.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. Where'd Isabel go?"

"I pissed her off so she decided to walk to the shoe store." He shrugged at her questioning look. "I saw you talking to Alex and I made the mistake of asking her if she was gonna apologize to him." He smiled. "You ready to go?"

"Just waiting for you."

"Do you mind walking to the theater?"

"No, it's only a few blocks over. You're leaving the jeep for Isabel?"

"Yeah. I doubt she'll use it just so she can be difficult, but this way it's here if she wants to take it." Max held the door open for her as they stepped out into the comfortably warm afternoon air.

"Max, do you have any expectations for that letter that we found?" she asked, sliding her fingers through his when he took her hand.

"Expectations?" He shook his head. "No, I guess not."

"Do you want it to mean something? To be some kind of connection to where you're from?"

"I don't really know. I mean, I've got questions of course, but…"

Liz tugged on his hand to get his attention when she heard his confused tone. "Y'know, Max, it's okay to be scared of where it could lead. It's gotta be pretty scary knowing that there's possibly a different life for you out there… that there's more out there on some other planet than what you could ever have here – "

Max pressed the forefinger of his free hand against her lips to stop the flow of words. "It doesn't matter what we find out from that letter, what we discover through investigation, or what we learn about ourselves in the future. All of that's just filling in the blanks, it's just answering the questions of where we come from and why we're here, it doesn't determine my happiness or my future."

"You're so sure of that?"

"Without question."

"How?"

"Because, Elizabeth Parker, with your acceptance of me, you've already determined my happiness as well as my future." He leaned in close to her, gently framing her face as he kissed her tenderly.