navajo skinwalkers ... they come when you are alone

Remember being alone…in the dark and everything was quiet, so quiet
you could hear things moving in the night. What was that, a noise and
looking so hard at the blackness of it you could see something moving,
silently, quietly…watching you.

It was the end of the day, it was getting late, dusk was coming fast.
In the fading light two missionaries, Gahmullies, (Mormons) women were
going into a small camp trailer sitting next to the church not far
from the trading post. They were young and spent their days walking
around the rez community trying to find a few souls who would listen to
them. Earlier in the day they had gone to a house they could see from a
long ways off; being on foot they walked toward it. They could see
little kids playing outside, as they walked closer the children
disappeared into the home. When they knocked on the door, the only
sound was the breeze moving the curtains and no on came to the door.
It was that way out here on the Navajo rez, people would disappear when
they wanted to.


As they went into their small trailer, one of them Sister Wilson, a
young Navajo woman from Chinle spoke to her companion, Sister Hicken
from up near Salt Lake City, her light brown hair tied up in a bun.


“What shall we eat tonite, Sister?, the Navajo one said.


“I think there are some pork and beans in the cupboard, and some Spam,
if you want to have that”, the tall one said as she put away her books
and straightened up. Night had fallen and it was quiet, they were far
from any neighbors and they settled in for the night.


“When is it again, when we can take a shower?”


“The chapter house will have the showers going again tomorrow, we can
go down that way if you want…it still costs 50 cents to use them.” The
community had little water and they took sponge baths between the time
they could get to the meeting house for a shower, right now it was
miles away.


There was no moon, and it was already dark, a real heavy blackness, so
thick you could touch it, you could not see your hand in front of your
face.


It was then it started a faint tapping on the roof of the trailer, like
a tree limb scratching the surface…faint and small…


The young Navajo woman was familiar with the rez and seeing her
compadre was not used to the long walks in a dry country, she
volunteered to go to the church and get a bucket of water to wash up, “
I am going to get some water” she said, picking up the plastic pail and
headed out the door.


She walked across the way to the church, and had to feel her steps on
the gravel since she couldn’t see her feet, the small light in the
trailer was faint and she had feel for the door at the dark
building….she opened the door and went in….


The sound of the tree limb started to make a rasping noise, scratching
the metal cover of the trailer…it made a scratching sound like it was
being dragged across the roof..it was starting to get annoying. The
tall one stopped her reading to listen to it, it was coming from the
back of the trailer on top.


She heard something else…not quite sure what it was but the sound was
different…it came from outside the back window…somewhere just beyond
the cedars…she didn’t know what it was but it was a sound that
shouldn’t have been there…


She looked out the window staring into the dark…trying to see…just the
blackest night out there...she couldn’t see anything…where is Sister
Wilson...


There was a ping of something hitting the trailer…it was the sound of a
small pebble, it bounced and rolled off…then another one fell right
after that.


She put her shoes on quickly and heard more of them fall on the roof,
pinging as they fell and the sound of larger ones came as they started
to fall. Then it stopped.


What to do…where is Sister Wilson…what is that noise…what is going on
here…she stood by the door holding the door knob…not going out or
coming in…maybe just holding on in case…


Earlier in the day they had stopped by a small place, a hogan almost
hidden against the rocks…it was at end of a little used trail. It was
without a sheep corral, and no signs of the comings and goings of
family life, there were no vehicle tracks there.


They went to the door and when it opened they saw a man, an old one, so
withered with age that he looked small, he was hunched and bent over.
The inside was dark, but he told them to come in. As they went in there
was only one window and the light was dim.


He sat at the small table and they sat on a bench not too far from him.
He looked at them with squinted eyes, narrow slits and they could see
he had only one eye and it was red.
When he talked he spoke in a raspy voice, as they spoke to him about
the church and it’s teachings he somehow changed the subject to the
talk of skinwalkers.


“There are some around here, they are what you call boogey men, but
these are real...they are out there…they come out at night…the gather
up there by the big rocks…sometimes you can see a fire from there…no
one goes up there then,” he said.


The tall one with light brown hair listened and her blue eyes were
curious with wonder about these creatures…what were they…how did they
look….did they have big yellow teeth and red eyes…she wondered about
how they came to be…she asked him these things.


His voice spoke quietly, and he said, they are people like you and me…
they come when they have something to do..when there are no good things
to do..they come…they hide in the night and they do things….”, he said.


“What kind of things do they do?”, she asked. He looked at her and
stood up and reached to the cedar log roof and into a small crack in
there. He was not small at all but was actually quite tall, and he took
a small bag from there and said, “ I use this to protect myself from
them he said,” looking at them with his one eye.


The Navajo woman, Sister Wilson she told the other we have to go, it is
not good to talk about such things.


The old man reached out to the tall one but she stepped back, “Let me
show you this, “ he said, as the other sister pushed her out the door,
and then they left the place. She did not feel good about the visit and
was quiet as they walked toward sunset and their place….maybe it was
him who stood out there..


She had heard other stories of those things….Skinwalkers…her mind raced…
what was it they said about them…how they can take you from where you
are…that they come to you at times like this…when you are alone…in the
dark of night…it was so dark outside…oh what demons they must be…what
do they look like..half man..half wolf….moving quietly…waiting and
watching…just out there…could it be one of them…


Then she heard the sound of gravel…steps coming toward the trailer….the
sound was not coming from the direction of the church but from the
cedars..her breath was short…it sounded so loud to her she could hear
her own heartbeat…what is it out there…


The noise outside stopped and she heard the sound on the steps outside…
it was coming in…she looked to the church and saw there were no lights
on in there..where was Sister Wilson..


It was like thunder, the noise was so loud…Knock Knock…came the
sound….it was quiet and then it came again…Knock Knock….she was
terrified…she held the door knob…and then she decided to see what was
out there…she opened it just a crack…


The sound came from the two small figures there…Trick or Treat…


Her heart stopped as Sister Wilson came out of the dark and said,
"Let’s see what we can find for you kids,"…and stepped passed the tall
one who just stood there looking at Mickey Mouse and her friend
Casper….those two kids standing there giggling……

rustywire