Realization stabs me in the heart and twists it. How could I be so fucking blind?
Nodin.
He wasn’t sleeping in the car yesterday. He was meditating.
He was influencing Baron’s feelings.
How could he? How
dare
he.
I grab my phone and dial his number, but there’s no answer. Feeling murderous, I throw on clothes, brush my teeth and march out the door. I’m fuming and headed straight to Nodin’s, but as soon as I get in the truck, my phone rings. It’s Ben.
Goddamn psychics.
I answer and snarl expletives into the phone, lashing out at him for tattling to Nodin.
“I made him do it,” he yells, interrupting my rant.
“What?”
“Nodin didn’t want to mess with Baron’s feelings. I had to talk him into it. If you’re going to attack someone, it should be the right person.”
“Why do you know every move I make? And why are you watching me with Baron? What are you, some kind of perv?”
“It’s not voluntary, trust me. I don’t like it any more than you,” he says.
“Have you always been privy to my entire life?”
Ben sighs. “No. Not like this. But I’ve never had to get all up in your biz and block you either.”
I sigh. “If you know what happened Saturday night, then you know it scared the crap out of us. This is cruel and unnecessary, Ben.” I fight hard to conceal the fact that I’m about to angry-cry.
“I believe you two have the intention to stop, but I don’t think for a second you’re capable. Not unless I make sure of it.”
I grit my teeth. “Tell him to undo it. Now.”
“The most important thing should be the research and the work. Nothing else matters.”
“What the hell do you care? You’re not even a part of this,” I say.
Ben’s voice goes up two octaves. “I’m not a part of it? I’m killing myself every day to keep you blocked. No one else can do that for you. But by all means, if you’d prefer to be vulnerable, I’ll leave you be.”
I exhale, feeling defeated. “No. I wouldn’t prefer that. I need you. But you can’t take Baron from me, Ben. You can’t. It’s killing me. It’s like a part of me is missing and not in a cheesy Lifetime movie way, but like there’s actually a part of me not functioning because you’ve blocked something integral to the energy. I can’t feel him anymore and I’m going to fucking—”
“Promise me you’ll focus on what’s important,” he says, cutting me off.
“I promise. I swear to you nothing like this will happen again. But I need him back. Please talk to Nodin.”
“I’ll talk to him,” he says. “Now please eat something.”
“Jesus, do you even know when I shit and shower?”
“Uh, no. Thank God.”
“Finally some good news,” I say with a sarcastic bite. I notice my green notebook on the passenger seat of the truck and remember what Nodin heard from Baron. “Hey, did you know about Hahn’s friend getting info from the Tabari kid?”
“Yeah, Nodin told me. Pretty crazy that he wants to talk to Baron in person. When is that happening?”
“The seventeenth, after some conference in Oaxaca, Mealy is travelling to New Mexico. He wants to meet Baron there.”
“Oaxaca? Isn’t that where your dad was that year I visited during Thanksgiving?”
“You’re right. No wonder it sounded familiar to me.”
Maybe Dad knows Mealy.
“I need you to do one more thing, Ben.”
“What is it?”
“I’m too irritated with Nodin to hear his voice right now. I need you to call him and tell him something important. Baron had a new vision. Tell him it’s a jaguar.” I hang up and lean against the truck. Nodin can’t influence people’s feelings unless he is with them, but the alteration sticks until Nodin changes it back. Baron won’t be back in Odessa until the weekend. It’s going to be a long week.
Sometimes it really sucks to have protective brothers.
The only way to make this week go faster is by distracting myself. I look up my dad in my phone and give him a call as I walk back into the house.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Devi. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just have a question. You have a minute?” I grab my books for class.
“Of course. What’s up?”
“You’ve been to Oaxaca before, right?” I can tell he’s in his car. As usual, NPR is on in the background.
“Yes, several times. Why?”
“Is there an archaeological conference going on there in the next couple weeks?”
“Uh...not in Oaxaca. It hasn’t been there in a few years. Why on earth are you asking?”
“It’s a long story. It has to do with this guy I’m sorta seeing.” I knew this would run him off. It’s one of those moves I don’t use often. “I don’t want to get into the details—”
“I don’t need to know anything. Do I know him?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right. Let’s just move on.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course.” He’s flustered and distracted—just where I wanted him.
“What do you know about the Maz tribe?”
“The Maz? Devi, how do you know about the Maz?”
“I told you, it—”
“A boy, okay.” He sighs and then clears his throat. “What do you want to know? Is this boyfriend of yours studying them or something?”
“Sort of.”
“Why don’t you just tell him to come by my office?”
I huff. “I thought it would be cool if I could tell him some stuff.” There’s a long silence. “Please, Dad?” I picture him throwing out comments about his nonexistent gun collection or his nonexistent black belt in karate during all his classes, in hopes of scaring the bejesus out of any guy who could potentially be my new boyfriend.
His sigh is heavy and exaggerated. “All right. What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about them.”
“Let’s see. They’re a tribe in the mountain region of southern Mexico several hours outside of Oaxaca. Probably the most interesting thing about them is that they’re all albino.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Well, according to Maz legend, the albinism started when a priest named Pechocha was asked by the gods to plant a seed that grew to be what is now the largest tree in the world, El Arbol del Tule. When Pechocha returned from planting the seed, his hair and skin were white as snow because the gods had blessed him. The Maz consider him the father of their tribe. Buuuuut, if you’re asking me biologically how that happens, well, you’ll have to ask a geneticist because I can’t begin to explain it.” He pauses. “Did I lose you, Dev?”
“No, no, this is great. Is the giant tree really there?”
“Oh yeah. It’s more than a thousand years old and massive. I have photos of it.”
“So you’ve been?”
“Sure I have. It’s in Santa Maria del Tule just outside of Oaxaca. Been twice actually. Next time you come to the house remind me to show you the photos.”
“Why was he asked to plant the seed? What’s so special about the tree?”
“It’s known as the tree of life. You can see images of animals in its trunk and branches.” I can tell by the rhythm in his voice he’s walking now.
Tree of life.
I touch the charm from Joe on my bracelet. “Can you really see them?”
“Absolutely. It’s kind of like seeing images in clouds, you know, but it’s in the twisted branches and bark in this case. I’ll show you in the photos. Dev, I’m at my office and class starts in fifteen minutes. Gotta run.”
“Wait, Dad, one more quick thing. Do you know of the Tabari tribe?”
“Oh my. The Tabari. I haven’t seen anything in the database about them in ages. They’re completely misanthropic.”
“English please.”
“Oh, uh, they’re aggressive toward outsiders. Unapproachable. I think we gave up on them years ago.”
“Are they friends with the Maz tribe?” I ask.
“Oh, gosh no. They’re not friends with anyone. Dev, I have class in a few minutes. I’m so—”
“No it’s okay. That’s all I wanted. Thanks, Dad. Bye.”
For some reason Jim Mealy lied about going to a conference in Oaxaca. Dad doesn’t know much about the Tabari, not even that they’re connected with the Maz. But Hahn knew, which means the information Hahn’s getting from his colleagues isn’t being shared on the archeological database.
I know from my dad’s work that all research is meticulously detailed on this database daily. It’s an international open line of communication. So why does my dad know nothing about the Tabari, but everything about the Maz?
•◊
17
ץ
ROOTS
I
walk to economics after finishing my five-hour shift at the book store. I’m early for class, so I take a seat and flip to the back of my notebook and take out a folded piece of paper.
At work, I looked up El Arbor Del Tule and printed some information. I skim the first page, then turn to the second, stopping to study the animals visible in its bark: jaguar, bear, buck, serpent, buffalo and elephant.
Baron’s animal visions.
After an eye-gougingly long class, I walk to my car and my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Baron, six words that change everything.
I gasp and almost stumble while trying to process what I’m reading.
Oh my God.
I have to find Nodin. He is in the arch labs on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Nodin looks up from a microscope as I burst through the swinging doors.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I need to talk to you, it’s important,” I whisper.
He looks around then motions for me to follow him. We go out the back door to an outdoor atrium. He turns to me abruptly. “I don’t want to argue here. Ben already spo—”
“I’m not here about that. I have information. Big information.” I hand him my phone, the text already memorized.
Heard from Hahn. Nami means mother.
Nodin’s hand goes to his mouth and he sits down hard on a bench. “So if she’s our mother,” he says, “then she died after—or on—the night of your naming ceremony. But before we were put up for adoption.”
I nod. “And I don’t think much time elapsed between those two events, based on our age at adoption and how old we seem in my dream.”
“I agree. But what now? What does it mean?”
“Well, for starters, it looks like our hunch is correct. We’re a Maz-Tabari mix. I’m thinking I know who our father is.”
“The painted man,” he says with a nod. “It must be him because he’s sitting next to you and...our mother. But still, why were we in Africa?”
“And why was a dead Tabari woman able to carry the status of a Mahtembo shaman?”
Nodin rubbed his eyes and exhaled. “You’d think getting information would enlighten us, but it just gets more confusing.”
“Wait,” I say, as something occurs to me. “I talked to Dad earlier, and—”
“Yeah, he’s been snooping around asking who you’re dating.”
I shake my head. “I had to tell him something to justify why I was asking about tribes and stuff. Anyway, Dad said there is no conference in Oaxaca this year, so Jim Mealy is lying about that. But he also told me the Maz are just outside of Oaxaca. Do you think he could really be going there?”
He runs his fingers through his goatee. “I guess, but why lie about it?”
I consider this. Something’s nagging me. “Well, we can presume he knows a lot about them since the Maz and Tabari have several hundred years of history attempting to breed together.”
“So...”
“So, why lie about the conference unless you’re hiding something? What if he secretly meets with the Maz? Nodin, Dad didn’t know anything about the Tabari. Not even their link to the Maz. Whatever Mealy is learning, he’s keeping it a secret from the whole archaeology community. He hasn’t told anyone except Hahn, and that’s only when Hahn told him about Baron’s vision in Amair. Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”
He nods. “Absolutely.”
“Mealy knows something big.” I tell him what I learned from Dad about the Maz tribe, Pechocha and the tree of life, and then I tell him about the animals in the tree being the same as Baron’s tattoos.
“You can’t be serious,” he says.
I hand him the printed pages. “See for yourself.”
Nodin takes it all in and stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“I changed my mind. I think you should go with Baron to meet Mealy. We can’t take any chances. He shouldn’t be alone.”
I exhale, relieved. “Okay. Good.”
“I assume you’re coming over Friday night when Baron and Ben arrive?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I’m going to try something that’ll help us and keep all this information straight.”
I hesitate a second, peering up at him. “Are you going to do something else when they get in town, too?”
His brows rise. “Oh that. Yeah. I’ll take care of that.” He squints at me. “You’re going to avoid getting your chest bashed in from now on?”
I put up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“I think that’s supposed to be three fingers.”
I change it to one finger and flip him the bird.
•◊•◊•
Friday evening I turn the doorknob to Nodin’s apartment and the hum encapsulates me. I enter, wincing against the pounding energy. I say hi to the three of them, who are standing with their backs to me, facing the family room wall. They return my greeting, but their eyes don’t leave the wall. I follow their gaze and see what Nodin’s been up to since we last spoke on Tuesday.
“The Wall of Knowledge,” he says with pride. “Like they do on detective shows.”
I set my backpack down and walk over. “Wow.”
He cleared an entire wall space and filled it with all we know so far. A printed photo from the Mahtembo Wiki site, as well as a bullet-point list of what we know about them. A huge map of South Africa hangs to the left of that, marking the locations of both the adoption agency in Johannesburg and the Buddhist temple in Bronkhorstspruit.
The right side of the wall displays sketches of each of Baron’s symbols, along with any information he told us about them. I glance at Baron. On the top of his left forearm is a tell-tale bandage.
I also notice he hasn’t looked at me, so Nodin hasn’t reversed the coercion yet. The energy whipping around us is violent. I ache to touch him and ease it, but I’m hesitant. It feels awkward now.
“When did you get the jaguar tatted?” I ask him.