Stones. Rings. Waters.

this story is a mystery. really, a Mystery. it's a murder unsolved. the kind everyone assumes they could solve if they had half a chance. everyone knows that's not true tho. people who are reading or watching mysteries on TV or whatever: they think they can figure it all out. because they can see more than anybody else in the story can see. even then they can be tricked. this one is a tricky one. even if I tell you everything that happened. exactly. so I'll do that...

Karin was a very good friend of mine. she had traveled to eighty different countries. I admired that enormously. on account of I can't stand moist heat. a lot of the countries she had traveled in were sluggishly wet and hot all of the time. she was literally very cool about that. she also was revered as a traveler. by the people she traveled with and by the people she met. rightfully so. she was unfailingly kind to just about everyone. and patient. and listened well...

she was Buddhist too. in her true life. not as an empty practice. not saying that practice is empty or whatever. I guess it's supposed to be 'empty'. you must still get the drift here: she was alive and present in the 'present' most of the time. I admired that in her too. I always thought of her as very capable. because of all these things she could do. more capable than anyone else I knew. maybe I wasn't right about that. maybe she was somehow more vulnerable. maybe I just didn't see that.

some places she went were unsafe. anyone would have said that. she was very very lucky. something would always come through. someone would help her. or the checkpoint guy would be in a good mood. sometimes they didn't see that she was American. she didn't always look American. she looked Romanian. exotic. her gramma had been Romanian. from the old country… wearing black. wearing the berka. she could pass in Central Asia. maybe even in the Middle East. surely in Eastern Europe. so she'd get by. get across borders. not many troubles...

then there was her Health Practices. she was so practical about her dietary life and her exercise life and her medical care life that it was damn painful to sit at a meal with her. I would wind up feeling like a food wimp. with bad habits as well... so she could eat practically anything. did eat whatever people offered to her. could down fiery spices like a native. eat strange meats and fats. and nothing would happen to her. her body would take it all in with all that health. it would shield her from harm.

I'm telling you this because it all fits in to how she died somehow: how you could look like... even act like...you belonged to a place and time. how it could all get you anyway: how you could die. even when everything was perfect...or looked perfect...all around you....it's sort-of home court advantage: the sniper knows the tree's every branch - each place to hide. you see the tree. but not him. because you don't really know the tree. not like he does. it's that kind of problem....

well, she didn't die because of a sniper. so it's not about that. she died in a very iffy way though. officially speaking...she was on a reservation. an Indian reservation. well. a Native American one. she was out buying something in silver on one of the mesas. at the guild workshop. she had gone outside. into the desert. there was a rainstorm about to come. the sky was really dark. tho it was warm - everybody felt chilled. it was that kind of rainstorm. scary in a way. thunder low and rumbley.. sheets of lightening. then that sound all across the sky. like rockets going off all at once across a battle field. no one knows why she went out there anyway. she had gone to the john in back of the store. beyond that door was the desert. why did she go there? that's the first question. that no one knows the answer to: by the way.

she just wasn't found for a long, long time. her friends and I just said she never came back. one minute she was there. the next she was not. she went off the face of the earth. the desert was empty of her. she wasn't found there... she was found in town. in the back seat of a car. dead. maybe for a day. curled up like she was taking a nap. not a mark on her. really. not one mark. face calm. eyes closed. looking like somebody napping. skin still soft really. it was her color that had changed. wrong color. bloodless. but not scary. just too pale. gray even. no sign of violence. the man who found her had seen her in the car parked near his home. she never got out of the car. for hours. that's what worried him. he was scared to tap on the window. but he did. tapped hard. panicked. called the cops. they busted into the car. found she was dead. it wasn't her car. it was a car that had been stolen a week ago. no one had found it. no one had seen who had driven it. ever. it was a terrible mystery.

nobody knew anybody at all who had ever hated her. or had it out for her. or said they wished she was dead. nowhere in her past. the autopsy said heart attack: massive. there was one needle entry point. possibly. but no traces of anything that may have been injected. it was too long after she had died. she probably had felt a lot of pain all at once. maybe she had been terrified before. but there was no proof of any of that. it was just something everyone feared. it made me and her friends and family feel crazy with grief. such a good person. terrible ending to such a good life. that's what everyone speculated. it was only when the word Murder was said that every one really went to pieces. for the DA's office said it was Murder. they were sure of that. they wouldn't say why. then they did...

it was because of the car. there were no fingerprints on it. not one. that almost was impossible. and there was no damage to the car. no gas worth mentioning had been used. this was not a normal theft. the car was in great shape. nothing used in it at all. with no suspects. no rhyme or reason why this car. this body in this car. this car in town. no one seeing it driven in. no reason why it was parked where it was. not one clue. not one sign. just maybe something injected. for no reason known. and the body placed where people would find it. with no sign of pain. or struggle. or anything. peaceful almost. just death. a sigh between life and someplace else. no big deal...and no signs of what life had driven that car. used that car. why? for what purposes?

there may be nothing worse than a mystery that has not one single clue. no one with any motive. no reasonable doubts. no ways to go 'ah hah! I see now! how did I ever miss That?' frustrating. the detectives were all completely bewildered. upset. unhappy. mad. really mad. we friends felt exactly the same way. and angry too. how could someone have done this? why. why. why. why. morning to night...why?

now it must be said: these reservations in this part of America are known for fact and fiction about unusual stuff happening: deaths. disappearances. maimings. bad luck stories that are off the charts. some of these stories are fiction. some are true. really. some are true. they happened. they don't get explained very well. they usually involve the “Res” tho. not the town nearby. the desert is a great place to lose a story. people and things and life and death get lost out there in those wildernesses all of the time. that's a fact. this one was really strange though. it started in the desert. or seemed to. then it finished right in every-day civilization. didn't make sense. it started getting connected to the Res tho. because of the extreme lack of fingerprints. that was just the kind of thing that happened in Res tales of mystery. so people started speculating...

maybe she had been lured away by some of the evil in parts of that desert. especially between the mesas and the Navajo lands below: there was some bad blood: joint-use areas that were going back to Hopi possession. relocated Elders dying in the joint-use areas. especially when they were made to live in the cities. out of their old hogans. their ancestral homes. lots of unhappy folks out there... but what connection did Karin have to any of these folks? None that anyone knew about. maybe on account of her coloring. maybe she had been mistaken for someone else...that was a real possibility...people speculated some. then left it alone a bit. because nothing had really come to the fore. it seemed the whole story was closing in. like the night over the desert. very dark. very final.

she had just been on a vacation...she liked to travel. to see new sights. to meet new people. to buy a few new things. she had barely been out on the reservation for a few days. she hadn't known anybody there. just friends who knew friends out on the Res. it hadn't been hard to be there. the mesas weren't exactly in the middle of nowhere. there were motels. places to eat at. to stay nearby. it wasn't that isolated. no one had been unfriendly. no one at all. she hadn't offended anybody who anyone knew about. it was just a little vacation. so there we all were. not sure about anything. or anybody. not anymore. because it was all too strange. too mysterious for words… everybody wanted to just go home. but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. we were - all three of us - suspects. Us! Suspects! it was too hard to bear. we all were starting to feel claustrophobic. Like all these tribal people were closing in on us. for no reason that I could figure out. we surely were all innocent. of the...of her death....

we were all about to get lawyers to help us to be able to go home. then the call came in. someone had seen something. the authorities drew their attention away from our reluctant innocence. they started to follow this odd tip. it was about a ring in a pawn shop. outside of the Res. in town. inside of the ring. the engraving: My Karin Blue Feather - Joe. the woman said it reminded her about the woman who had died. she bought the ring for about twenty dollars. then brought it to the police. it was a Hopi silver ring. a simple pattern. usual to the rings of the seventies or early eighties at the guild workshop. the police didn't know what the connection was. we hadn't remembered the ring. whether she wore it or not. we didn't think so tho. but there weren't that many Karins in the area. that's what we figured.

then they found another one. a ring. similar inscription on the inside. one of the cops found it. recognized the pattern on the ring. saw the inscription inside. this one said: Karin. Joe loves you. this one was at a crafts show. on a tray marked 'vintage'. stuff from the seventies. this was getting strange.

then another woman - this one from the Res - came forward. she had heard about the rings. Joe and Karin: she had known them in the late seventies. they had been part of that big love affair of the hippies of the sixties and seventies: the one where they went out on the reservations. made 'friends' with the Indians. dressed like them a bit. beads and headbands and stuff. were in 'solidarity' with Native American rights groups and so on. they had felt some connection to the Blue Prayer Feather Clan people. none of who they had ever met. and never did meet. but they talked about getting a feather off the ground. buying a Hopi silver piece of jewelry with the feather etched on the back. they had been told it was made by a member of that clan. she had been working in the store for the guild at the time. that's how she remembered that. they had been out on the Res maybe a couple of months. so many years ago. they had never been back that she knew of. that's all she knew.

the Res police and the town police made up their minds to work together on this one. nothing much else important was going on. so they had the time. this murder case was irritating all of them on some level… OK. so our Karin maybe had a boyfriend or a buddy or something. she had spent a couple of months living somewhere on or around or near the Hopi or maybe the Navajo lands. something we hadn't known. then another lead came up. this one was really strange. not coincidental at all:

this guy told the Res cops that he remembered a story he heard the old women talking about in his gramma's hogan. he had just been a boy. it was about these two hippy types who were messing around one of the springs out on the Res. one of his gramma's friends was kind-of a spiritual woman. she had told them to move on. that the spring was sacred. the woman had been fine about that. the man had been a bit confrontational about it all. free country and all that. but they both had left. only they had taken some stones from the spring. the women were not happy about that apparently. the stones had been placed a certain way to direct water to the Res. to tell the water where to go. this was a Navajo way. he couldn't describe it more. on account of it was part of ritual. whites weren't in on that kind of stuff. period. he thought it was important. because the women were powerful people. maybe they had some bad ideas about the two hippy people. he couldn't say. he had just been a boy. there was women stuff and men stuff. they didn't cross much. and it wasn't done to go in too far either way... unless it was your business. which it hadn't been. being that he was just a kid.

now the Res police were more interested than ever in the case. the town police were just more irritated. we were intrigued. especially Manny. who was Mexican. a good friend once of Karin's. and the son a Healer Woman of the Indians. from the south. where he was from. he thought this was a sign that evil or at least mean intentions were at play here. he had been raised around this kind of stuff. maybe the stones had been way important. maybe something happened because Karin brought them back. maybe something happened because she didn't bring them back. but maybe that was the connection with the desert. maybe she had been trying to find that spring. or maybe the stones had power.

when a person is on any reservation you're way out there in the middle of Nowhere. Nowhere is a real place. the reality of that place is bigger than the reality of anywhere else. I'm not kidding here. strange stuff here. not American. not any nationality really. just a place on the planet. a place without a name. without a known identity. truly. you have to be there to get it. it's a strange thing. every body who goes out to the Res says so. at least everybody who doesn't belong to the reservation says so. it's a fact:

stones seem alive. I know that sounds all twilight zone. but I'm not joking. it's true: the desert is more alive than anywhere else besides. add reservation to desert. then you've got every thing alive. not in the way you usually think about alive. a lot of watching too. especially watching strangers. well. there's really no other way to explain all that...

so. the next person to give another clue shows up. he's a kid. about twelve years old. he says he saw her in the desert. behind the guild workshop. he saw her moving around. she put something down. then stood quietly. then a man joined her. he didn't see the man coming. he just suddenly was there. they were arguing a little loudly. not loud enough to hear. but he could hear the anger. bad from the guy. more like unhappy from the lady. then they both walked away to a car. got in. drove off. that's all he had seen. he had to go do an errand for his grandpa. he was already running late. so he had left… the car was the style and color of the car Karin had been found in. of course.

and you've noticed. naturally: she didn't tell her friends where she was going. or why. we all felt bad about that. what in the world had she been doing? what had been going on? can you feel what we were feeling? these bits and pieces of so-called evidence were so frustrating. they didn't all connect yet. maybe they never would...a few days went by. like they always do....

it was Joe who contacted us. he told us he was sorry he hadn't told anybody. but he had been scared when he heard what happened to Karin. it was him who had seen her. met with her out in the desert. she had asked him to come there. to put the Water Stones back into the desert. he hadn't seen her for years. suddenly she had been in contact with him again. told him she was coming out for this vacation with friends. to the same place they had taken the stones from years and years ago. he couldn’t remember why they had picked up the stones. he remembered that the old women had been 'unkind'. he admitted he had been 'unkind' right back: she had mentioned the stones again. she had them. could he come and help her to put them back where they 'belonged'? so he had said sure. he wanted to see her again anyway. so what the heck.

he admitted meeting her in the desert alright. but he said he had left by himself. in his RV. they had argued about the location of the spring. he said it wasn't where she thought it was. they didn't actually find the spring. she put the stones down in the sand. pointed the pointy parts of the stones towards the guild workshop buildings. he told her he'd meet her for dinner that night. named the place. she had said OK. she had been heading back to the buildings as he left...he was still in his RV. he had no idea what car they were talking about. the one she had been found in. but he had been scared. what if the police thought he had killed her? we said we'd go with him to the police while he told his story. he agreed to go.

the police in town believed him. the Res police had a different twist on the situation. for one thing: the Hopi counsel was complaining that they couldn't get the water to turn off in the bathrooms behind the guild workshop. the dripping was heavy and continuous. no one seemed to be able to get the water to stop. not in any way. this was the desert: wasted water was a terrible thing. they were trying to collect it all in buckets. but it was a waste. all the same. the Res police insisted on Joe taking them to the place where Karin had set the stones. so he did.

now all this next stuff is like a suspension-of-belief business. I freely admit that. but here is what happened:

we had all met for dinner. Joe, the few friends left in the area. me. one of the Res cops, who was getting pretty obsessed with the whole story...we were at a cafe. Good ol every-day foods...we were all kind-of bummed together. feeling like this was a waste of our time by now. Karin had been ashed. as she had requested. her family had a private funeral. as she had requested. so Karin seemed very far away somehow… only Joe was upset. he had taken the Res cops out to where he thought Karin had left the stones. they went over the ground like some kind of demented blood hounds. no stones. every one there was pretty upset. they wanted those stones back into the spring. where they belonged. where ever that was: no one on the Res was going to say. that was for sure.

then there was the rings business. Joe wanted the rings back. or at least to see them. he felt they should give them to him. but the bad part was that they had been misplaced somehow. at the Res police station. it was upsetting him. and the police too. not that it had anything to do with the 'case' so to speak. but what did they mean? those rings...what was the connection? how did they get left on the Res in the first place? or near the Res...or whatever...

the Res police decided it was time to bring in some Elders. they always knew everything. wouldn't tell you unless they felt like it tho. and when they felt like it. that was their way. you better really respect them too. or they would send you on some very bad trips. that was a fact. they would get you. you might even die. that made our hair raise a bit: they might even kill you. that was a sobering thought for sure. how would they kill you? you wouldn't get to know that. usually people were just 'found' dead. that rang a bell now. didn't it tho…

so they agreed. heavens know why. and why now. there were six little ladies. hard to tell if they were all sixty or one hundred. or timeless. they were all not smiling. they were holding court with us. we were their subjects. you could feel that. they had something to say. they weren’t interested in what we had to say. here's what they said:

the Mothers have told us about the stones. the spring. and two rings. the woman died. the little pin prick on her. it is all one thing: we can't tell you about it tho. it's all Dine' matters. matters of the People. not for you to know. we need the rings. the rings will lead to the stones. the stones will be brought back to the spring. the water problems will be gone then. until then things are not good. but that's all that is your business.

The cops told them the rings couldn't be found. the women said no matter. that was the end of the interview. they said nothing about the murder. one of them just shrugged. what did that mean? I don't know…

it was months later that they found a few hairs in the car where she had been found. they matched Joe's DNA. he's going to go to trial. he keeps saying he's innocent. he points out that he had no motive at all. and his RV with him. but the kid doesn't remember any RV where the couple had been out in the desert. so I don't know. I can't imagine how that will all come out.

the rings were never found. maybe someone took them for the silver. made something else out of them. that would be OK really...

the stones were found in the spring. one of the Elders told the Res police guy that. hard to check on since no one except the Elders knows where the spring even is...

the waters dried up at the guild workshop. just stopped. that was OK too...

the pinprick on Karin's body. that's the one thing no one can explain. it may not have been an injection site. who knows...the case was closed. unsolved....

I wish I could tell you how hard it was to love Karin. she was so perfect. it kind-of drove me crazy really...
when she told me she was meeting with Joe again I got pretty jealous. I didn't mean to feel jealous. but it just kept getting worse and worse. I couldn't even sleep well.
I started getting off my feed. and you know: that's not good for a diabetic like me. I have to take Insulin three times a day as it is...

you know...I can give myself those injections practically in my sleep. they're almost automatic....

stones. rings. waters...

the Res is a very strange place to be. puts you off your usual reality. sets you free from reality. you just don't have to deal with life the usual way...not if you know how to be quiet…

the Navajo can be quiet. the Hopi can be quiet...

so can I....

quiet like Stones.

Rings.

Waters....