Part Six
Once again Maria stopped at a motel for the night before continuing on her way, the next day.
When she passed the outskirts of Roswell the next morning she felt a wave of homesickness. The feeling she always felt when Michael was around, the sense of his nearness she forced herself to ignore and continued driving.
The Indian Reservation wasn't far from Roswell. She pulled up on the side and walked to the centre. Almost immediately she ran into Eddie and asked for Riverdog. Eddie, for once took her straight to him.
Again her nervousness began to rise. This time however it was easier to defeat. The last 6 weeks had improved her confidence. Still Riverdog was someone special. He was the only other person who knew about the Czechoslovakians besides Sheriff Valenti that could help.
"I've been expecting you," Riverdog stated.
"You have?" Maria questioned, puzzled.
"You have come to learn, Maria," he said, without answering her question.
It was the first time in 6 weeks that Maria had been called by her name. She hadn't realised how much she missed it. Being Agent Jennifer Sandler was all fine and good but being Maria, the slightly wacky weird girl was who she was. She had missed it.
Coming to Riverdog was something she felt she had to do. And in recent times Maria listened to her feelings. She trusted her instincts especially since they had been right in the past with Tess and Topolsky. Even in FBI Training, one of her instructors had said numerous times, "Trust your instincts. They will keep you alive." The other trainees had nicknamed him the 'Sprite' after the soda. But Maria recognised the truth of his teachings and paid close attention to all he taught.
For a while now the words he (Riverdog) had said to her once in the cave echoed in her mind. Her path. The one she was destined to follow…THAT word again. She hated it.
Riverdog was the only one who could help her, that she knew. How she knew that, she wasn't quite sure. Riverdog, as usual said little and what he did say was usually cryptic- as Maria was to discover in the following fortnight.
He trained her, guided her and helped her develop her mental skills. Maria learnt to concentrate solely on one object, how to focus her mind on one person. The ability she'd always had of picking up vibes became more developed, stronger. Her mind became more focused.
Breathing was an important part of the rituals Riverdog taught. Deep, even breathes. Vision quests and sweats. For 10 days Maria stayed at the Reservation among the Indians, lived, ate, slept amongst them and leant from Riverdog. The only thing she did separately was the 10 mile run she took every morning. It had taken her 2 weeks in the beginning of the summer to complete that run without collapsing in exhaustion. It had become a habit, a necessary one and a symbol of all that she had accomplished and she used it to keep fit.
Maria discovered that Riverdog was a hard taskmaster and was determined that she would be prepared for whatever was out there. And so he taught her nature, healing, the desert with all its moods and changes and the sky covered in stars and mysteries. Riverdog never asked her any questions. Maria never volunteered any information. She assumed he knew or didn't want to know. Whatever the reason she didn't ask why he was helping or how he knew she was coming again.
On the 11th day Riverdog took Maria out to the desert. They drove for a few hours in no particular direction.
"It's time for your test," he stated when they were in the middle of nowhere far as Maria could make out.
"Test?"
"Yes," he said.
She got out of the jeep following his gestures. Riverdog was a man of few words. Then she watched in alarm as he started back up.
"You're leaving me here. Alone," her voice rose with each syllable.
"It is the test. Three days," Riverdog replied calmly as he drove of, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
"3 days," Maria shrieked to the back of the jeep. Already he was too far away. She fought the urge to scream and began to breathe.
'Deep breathes.' She repeated to herself like a mantra.
When she was calm, her training kicked in.
'I can do this,' she thought. All the training, lessons by Riverdog. 'He wouldn't have left me here if I wasn't ready.'
With that reassurance Maria took stock of the environment, of all she had on her, of the direction of home, the sun, of time. Her backpack lay on the sand besides her where she had thrown it when she jumped of the jeep. She knew at the very least she had 2 water bottles. Previous lessons in the desert, although much shorter had taught her to bring water.
If she was lucky she had matches left over from lighting the candle the night before. Immediately she checked and struck it lucky. In addition she had a sweater which would be useful at night when it was notoriously cold in the desert.
Maria carefully repacked the backpack, slung it over her shoulders and began to walk west, back to civilisation. According to her calculations as far into the desert as she was she was still closer to the reservation than to Roswell. She rationed her water sparingly and walked for hours. When it began to get dark she looked for a place to camp. In the end Maria settled for resting below an outcrop of rocks. She didn't sleep much that first night. It was cold and she shivered constantly despite the sweater she wore wrapped tightly around her. There was no sticks or anything that could be used to light a fire with.
The next morning she started walking at first light. She was hungry, tired and grumpy. It was a good thing Riverdog wasn't around at this time because Maria would have probably done a few things to him that she would regret later.
Desperation made her swallow her squeamishness and kill a small furry animal. She also managed to light a small fire (after half an hour and numerous attempts) which she used to cook 'lunch.'
Her water was almost finished despite the way she sparingly doled it out. However, Maria's worries of the previous day were slightly diminished. Eating and lighting the fire had reassured her somewhat.
At 4 o'clock after walking for hours Maria found some cactus plants. Her lessons with Riverdog held her in good stead and she managed to get some of the liquid within down her parched throat.
The second night also passed better. A fire kept her warmer than the previous night and sleep came easier. Once again she began walking early. Maria ate the remainder of the cooked meat from the day before and drank what was left of her liquid supply.
By afternoon she spotted the reservation, the first sign of civilisation in 3 days. Energy Maria wasn't aware she still possessed allowed her to run the rest of the way.
'Thank God for those 10 mile runs,' was the fleeting thought that passed through Maria's mind just before she collapsed outside Riverdog's dwellings.
He appeared almost immediately.
"You did well, my child. You passed the test."
Maria had never been so glad to hear someone else's voice in her life. Although it had only been 3 days, it was the most time she had ever spent completely alone. It was a relief to hear someone besides her own voice.
She smiled up at Riverdog. Maria was just too tired to be mad at him anymore. She was exhausted, dirty, hungry, and thirsty. Other priorities were on her mind.
After showering and drinking as much water as she could, Maria sat with Riverdog for the last time. Her time with him was over she realised with regret. The test was a completion of his teachings.
"It's time to leave, Maria," Riverdog stated in his slow measured tones. Maria nodded in response, "Yes."
"You will remember. You will practise," he said.
Again she replied in the affirmitive.
It was time. She was ready to return home. To face Roswell. To face her friends. To face Michael.
That night the Indians celebrated with Maria. It was her congratulations for passing the test and a farewell combined. She would leave in the morning.
Once again Maria stopped at a motel for the night before continuing on her way, the next day.
When she passed the outskirts of Roswell the next morning she felt a wave of homesickness. The feeling she always felt when Michael was around, the sense of his nearness she forced herself to ignore and continued driving.
The Indian Reservation wasn't far from Roswell. She pulled up on the side and walked to the centre. Almost immediately she ran into Eddie and asked for Riverdog. Eddie, for once took her straight to him.
Again her nervousness began to rise. This time however it was easier to defeat. The last 6 weeks had improved her confidence. Still Riverdog was someone special. He was the only other person who knew about the Czechoslovakians besides Sheriff Valenti that could help.
"I've been expecting you," Riverdog stated.
"You have?" Maria questioned, puzzled.
"You have come to learn, Maria," he said, without answering her question.
It was the first time in 6 weeks that Maria had been called by her name. She hadn't realised how much she missed it. Being Agent Jennifer Sandler was all fine and good but being Maria, the slightly wacky weird girl was who she was. She had missed it.
Coming to Riverdog was something she felt she had to do. And in recent times Maria listened to her feelings. She trusted her instincts especially since they had been right in the past with Tess and Topolsky. Even in FBI Training, one of her instructors had said numerous times, "Trust your instincts. They will keep you alive." The other trainees had nicknamed him the 'Sprite' after the soda. But Maria recognised the truth of his teachings and paid close attention to all he taught.
For a while now the words he (Riverdog) had said to her once in the cave echoed in her mind. Her path. The one she was destined to follow…THAT word again. She hated it.
Riverdog was the only one who could help her, that she knew. How she knew that, she wasn't quite sure. Riverdog, as usual said little and what he did say was usually cryptic- as Maria was to discover in the following fortnight.
He trained her, guided her and helped her develop her mental skills. Maria learnt to concentrate solely on one object, how to focus her mind on one person. The ability she'd always had of picking up vibes became more developed, stronger. Her mind became more focused.
Breathing was an important part of the rituals Riverdog taught. Deep, even breathes. Vision quests and sweats. For 10 days Maria stayed at the Reservation among the Indians, lived, ate, slept amongst them and leant from Riverdog. The only thing she did separately was the 10 mile run she took every morning. It had taken her 2 weeks in the beginning of the summer to complete that run without collapsing in exhaustion. It had become a habit, a necessary one and a symbol of all that she had accomplished and she used it to keep fit.
Maria discovered that Riverdog was a hard taskmaster and was determined that she would be prepared for whatever was out there. And so he taught her nature, healing, the desert with all its moods and changes and the sky covered in stars and mysteries. Riverdog never asked her any questions. Maria never volunteered any information. She assumed he knew or didn't want to know. Whatever the reason she didn't ask why he was helping or how he knew she was coming again.
On the 11th day Riverdog took Maria out to the desert. They drove for a few hours in no particular direction.
"It's time for your test," he stated when they were in the middle of nowhere far as Maria could make out.
"Test?"
"Yes," he said.
She got out of the jeep following his gestures. Riverdog was a man of few words. Then she watched in alarm as he started back up.
"You're leaving me here. Alone," her voice rose with each syllable.
"It is the test. Three days," Riverdog replied calmly as he drove of, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
"3 days," Maria shrieked to the back of the jeep. Already he was too far away. She fought the urge to scream and began to breathe.
'Deep breathes.' She repeated to herself like a mantra.
When she was calm, her training kicked in.
'I can do this,' she thought. All the training, lessons by Riverdog. 'He wouldn't have left me here if I wasn't ready.'
With that reassurance Maria took stock of the environment, of all she had on her, of the direction of home, the sun, of time. Her backpack lay on the sand besides her where she had thrown it when she jumped of the jeep. She knew at the very least she had 2 water bottles. Previous lessons in the desert, although much shorter had taught her to bring water.
If she was lucky she had matches left over from lighting the candle the night before. Immediately she checked and struck it lucky. In addition she had a sweater which would be useful at night when it was notoriously cold in the desert.
Maria carefully repacked the backpack, slung it over her shoulders and began to walk west, back to civilisation. According to her calculations as far into the desert as she was she was still closer to the reservation than to Roswell. She rationed her water sparingly and walked for hours. When it began to get dark she looked for a place to camp. In the end Maria settled for resting below an outcrop of rocks. She didn't sleep much that first night. It was cold and she shivered constantly despite the sweater she wore wrapped tightly around her. There was no sticks or anything that could be used to light a fire with.
The next morning she started walking at first light. She was hungry, tired and grumpy. It was a good thing Riverdog wasn't around at this time because Maria would have probably done a few things to him that she would regret later.
Desperation made her swallow her squeamishness and kill a small furry animal. She also managed to light a small fire (after half an hour and numerous attempts) which she used to cook 'lunch.'
Her water was almost finished despite the way she sparingly doled it out. However, Maria's worries of the previous day were slightly diminished. Eating and lighting the fire had reassured her somewhat.
At 4 o'clock after walking for hours Maria found some cactus plants. Her lessons with Riverdog held her in good stead and she managed to get some of the liquid within down her parched throat.
The second night also passed better. A fire kept her warmer than the previous night and sleep came easier. Once again she began walking early. Maria ate the remainder of the cooked meat from the day before and drank what was left of her liquid supply.
By afternoon she spotted the reservation, the first sign of civilisation in 3 days. Energy Maria wasn't aware she still possessed allowed her to run the rest of the way.
'Thank God for those 10 mile runs,' was the fleeting thought that passed through Maria's mind just before she collapsed outside Riverdog's dwellings.
He appeared almost immediately.
"You did well, my child. You passed the test."
Maria had never been so glad to hear someone else's voice in her life. Although it had only been 3 days, it was the most time she had ever spent completely alone. It was a relief to hear someone besides her own voice.
She smiled up at Riverdog. Maria was just too tired to be mad at him anymore. She was exhausted, dirty, hungry, and thirsty. Other priorities were on her mind.
After showering and drinking as much water as she could, Maria sat with Riverdog for the last time. Her time with him was over she realised with regret. The test was a completion of his teachings.
"It's time to leave, Maria," Riverdog stated in his slow measured tones. Maria nodded in response, "Yes."
"You will remember. You will practise," he said.
Again she replied in the affirmitive.
It was time. She was ready to return home. To face Roswell. To face her friends. To face Michael.
That night the Indians celebrated with Maria. It was her congratulations for passing the test and a farewell combined. She would leave in the morning.