Her perfect pink nipple lay invitingly exposed before him, inches from his face and teeth. It was the fantasy feast Andrew Carlisle had always dreamed about from the time he began dreaming of such things, but it was something he'd only sampled once before in his life. The temptation to do it again was all too powerful.
Leaning down, he took the still-warm nipple between his lips and sucked on it thoughtfully for a moment. Then he bit it-hard, bit until the soft flesh gave way beneath his teeth and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
He let it linger on his tongue for only a moment before he spat it out.
It was far too salty. What Andrew Carlisle really wanted right about then was another beer.
Davy loved the drive to loligam, as Rita called the mountain that lay like a huge steeping lion overlooking a broad, flat valley. Nana Dahd had explained that ioligam means manzanita, a low-growing desert brush that thrives on the mountain's rocky sides. From a distance, the brush gives the mountain its bluish tint. Diana, however, always referred to the mountain by its Anglo name of Kitt Peak.
Davy preferred Ioligam.
He liked the way the air seemed to clear and the sky turned bluer as they came up the slight rise near the shaded rest area and the turnoff to the village of Ban Thak where they would be going later for the feast.
"Tell me again why they call it Coyote Sitting," Davy begged. "Do coyotes really sit there?"
Rita smiled indulgently. "Only in the winter," she said, when they tell one another stories."
As they continued on, Davy took a keen interest in the crosses that dotted the roadside here and there along the way. Like Gina's, many of them were now dressed up with vivid new wreaths and candles. In one place, four separate crosses were clustered together.
"Did four people die there?" he asked, testing the reliability of his newfound knowledge.
Nana Dahd nodded. "A car wreck," she answered.
She had told him they would have to hurry to get to the gift shop on top of the mountain before the road closed, but when they turned off the highway onto the much smaller one leading up to Ioligam itself, Davy puzzled over what would close it. The road with its Open Range sign seemed Straight enough, at least at first, and there was nothing wrong with the weather.
Davy knew, for instance, that during heavy rainstorms, running water could sometimes fill dry creek beds and washes and make roads impassable, but on this cloudless day, that seemed an unlikely possibility. He puzzled over the question as they wound their way up the mountain. A road closing for no reason seemed as mysterious as lighting a candle in broad daylight.
Finally, he broke down and asked. "Why will the road close, Nana Dahd?"
"Those men up there," Rita said, nodding her head in the direction of the observatory buildings, which shone in the sunlight like so many white jewels clustered in a rough crown around the top of the mountain.
"Those men who look at the stars through their big telescopes don't like light. They say headlights from cars make it so they can't see the stars."
"But doesn't I'itoi mind having all those white men living up there and making regular people stay away?" Davy asked.
The I'itoi legends were the Papagos' traditional winter telling tales.
Elder Brother stories were told only during those months when the snakes and lizards were hidden away from cold weather. It was said that if Snake or Lizard overheard someone telling an I'itoi story, the animal might swallow the storyteller's luck and bring him harm.
During the previous winter, while Diana Ladd was taking a graduate night course at the university in order to maintain her teaching certificate, Rita had entertained both Davy and herself by recounting all the traditional I'itoi tales she could remember. A few she had made up on the spot.
She had told Davy how in the old days loligam had been l'itoi's summer home, the place he went to relax when he left his regular home
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child