Those dolls had been burned to ashes on that day and then their remains scattered in the garden to feed the new crop of corn-the symbol of life and the cycle of birth, renewal, death, and rebirth....
But their presence on her dresser wasn't what truly scared her.
While she'd slept, someone had come into her room and written on her mirror with a bar of soap-something else her grandmother had done whenever Kateri had stayed with her. Little notes such as "I love you," "Good luck with your test," "Have a good day at school," "Don't forget your sweater," or some such trifling.
But this note wasn't sweet.
Take my nayu into the Valley of Fire, where the pure earth must tame the crow. Listen to the buffalo and protect the butterfly. Together, you are stronger than any foe. And remember, Waleli, when the coyote comes and the snake attacks, either you eat the bear or the bear eats you.
In the middle of the day, that would be irritating to read. This early in the morning, it was downright cruel.
I'm in no mood for this crap.
"Who's here?" she shouted.
Only the sound of her own heartbeat answered her. She'd call the police, but to what purpose? Hey, officer, I woke up and found this really cryptic message on my mirror, written by someone who was high or drunk or ... No, officer, I'm not on anything. And no, they're not here now and I have no idea why they'd do something like this, but could you find out who they are and ask them not to leave me notes anymore? Who do I suspect? No idea. Only my late grandmother left me notes like this.
Yeah, that wouldn't go over well, and with her luck, they'd haul her in for filing a false report.
Or worse, call a psych unit on her.
But what really disturbed her about the note was that it called her Waleli ... Hummingbird. It was her real first name that her grandmother had given to her on her birth. One that hadn't been entered on the paperwork her mother had filed for her birth certificate. No one alive knew of it.
No one.
So either her grandmother had visited her or ...
You don't believe in ghosts.
True, but what other explanation could there possibly be? Why would a complete stranger break into her house, steal nothing, do her no harm, and write that? The reasoning defied logic.
How would they know about her grandmother's nayu that had shown up in mail addressed to her the day after her grandmother had died, or the name her grandmother only used when they were alone?
Kateri shook her head.
Maybe that was what the raven mocker had been doing.
Yeah, okay, the idea of a raven mocker writing in soap on her mirror sounded even more ludicrous and far-fetched than the ghost theory, but what was left?
Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. She rolled her eyes as her mind reminded her of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle quote.
"I don't believe in this crap, Grammy!" she shouted up at the ceiling. She never had. Paranormal, raven mockers, tsinooks, spirits, and such ... hokey poppycock.
She was a scientist. She only believed in what she could see, taste, touch, smell, and hear.
Quantify.
The rest was fodder for novelists and Hollywood. It just didn't exist outside of dreams.
It didn't.
All of a sudden, something squeaked. Kateri snapped her head toward the sound that had come from her dresser.
There on her mirror, more words appeared as she watched them.
But I believe in you, Waleli. Do not fail me.
Above all, do not fail yourself.