16
Solstice
Although in the intervening days I attempted to do my out-of-body meditations starting from the apartment, I never got any hint that this Nizhoni was anywhere around Flagstaff. I tried to not let myself be discouraged, but it seemed I should have been able to feel something…anything.
But I didn’t, although I did make the acquaintance of two rather amusing bootleggers who’d shot each other in the middle of Leroux Street back in 1925. They didn’t seem to hold a grudge, though. Maybe spending eternity in one another’s company had mellowed them somewhat.
“You’re sure you’ve never seen a young Navajo woman around these parts?” I asked them desperately on Friday night, knowing I was running out of options.
“Nope,” said the taller of the two spirits, whose name was Isaac Ford. He
