...all MSR all the time..
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Chapter 2
The small crowd that had assembled was whispering and staring at Mulder and me, but they fell silent and gave way as we approached the central fire. The young native motioned for me to sit down at the fire. When Mulder began to sit down beside me, he was waved off and directed to sit behind me. So I stuck out my bottom lip and patted the ground beside me.
My gesture made the women murmur and then smile knowingly. It seemed that my gesture had given them the impression that we were a couple. They wouldn't be the first to make that assumption. Dropping his shoulders in resignation, the sole male we had seen motioned for Mulder to join me.
"It looks like your hair makes you intriguing," Mulder noted in a low voice once he was beside me.
"What's going on here, Mulder?" I whispered. "Who are these people?"
At first I thought that we'd stumbled upon a group of Native Americans who had gone back to the old ways, but I now I doubted that. It was rapidly becoming apparent that there had been little or no contact between these people and the outside world. How was that possible in this day and age?
The young man startled me by suddenly speaking very sharply. His words made the women begin to scurry around. In no time, Mulder and I had each been given a bowl of some sort of stew and another of what tasted like herbal tea. We were both eating hungrily when one of the women handed both of us a piece of flatbread that I assumed was bannock. Everything was delicious and when all of my food was gone, I licked my fingers. Glancing up, I caught Mulder doing the same thing.
The women all smiled proudly, obviously happy that we'd enjoyed the fare. Then one of the younger women indicated that she wanted me to come with her. But when I attempted to get up, I winced in pain.
"What's the matter?" Mulder asked. His face, along with the faces of those gathered around, showed concern.
"It's my feet," I grimaced.
"What's wrong with them?" He furrowed his brow.
"I should've put my nylons back on. It feels like I have some pretty bad blisters," I told him as I reached to remove a shoe.
Mulder drew in a sharp breath when I eased my left shoe off.
"Jesus, Scully!"
Everyone clustered around to peer at my foot. The back of my heel was completely raw and bloody. On the side of my foot, on my first metatarsal joint, was another large open sore. In fact, my whole foot was badly swollen. Removing the other shoe, I discovered that my right foot was just as bad or maybe even slightly worse than my left foot.
Before I could stop him, the young man had grabbed my shoes and pitched them into the fire. When I looked at him in shock, he pointed to my feet and shook his head, frowning. He must have thought that my shoes were ridiculous too.
The women were all talking at once and the man bent over me like he was going to pick me up.
"Hey! I'll do that!" Mulder protested before I'd a chance to speak.
When he jumped up, the young man backed off, seeming to understand that Mulder thought that carrying me was *his* duty. Before I could explain that I could have walked easily with bare feet, Mulder had picked me up and was carrying me across the encampment. He was following the young man and most of the women were trailing after us.
Motioning for us to wait, the young man went into a large wigwam. We could hear him talking and a deeper voice answering him. He popped his head out of the door and beckoned us inside. Before my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, the deeper voice began to speak. Again I had no idea what he what he was saying, but I heard my name.
"I'm Dana," I said to the hazy form.
"Day-na," he repeated and gestured for Mulder to put me down. Then he pointed to himself and said "Omiga,".
"Omiga," I repeated pointing towards him. "Dana," I said indicating myself and then did same with Mulder.
Soon, at least we knew each other's names. Then I was able to learn that the young man's name was Nawkaw. Even though I couldn't understand anything that was being said, knowing some names made me feel better for some reason.
Omiga began to speak to me in an earnest tone of voice. Then, with his large bony hands, he picked up each foot in turn. Having adjusted to the half light, I could see the look of consternation on his face.
Nawkaw was still standing just inside the door. Turning to face him, Omiga seemed to give him some instructions.
"Mulder, Day-na," Omiga nodded towards the door.
Mulder got to his feet quickly and stooped to pick me up. I waved him off.
"I can walk, Mulder," I assured him and began to stand up.
"Day-na!" Omiga barked my name, making me freeze. "Mulder," he said, nodding towards me.
"Fine," I sighed in resignation.
Mulder chuckled as he picked me up. "Is that all I have to do to get my way--speak firmly to you?"
"Why don't you try it and find out?" I asked dryly.
"I think I'll pass. I'm rather fond of all of my parts," he laughed as he carried me outside.
While Mulder and I were talking, Nawkaw seemed to be calling out instructions. Almost immediately, one of the younger women was leading Mulder back towards the stream. Once we were there, she gestured for Mulder to set me down on a large flat rock. Then, kneeling down, she began to wash my feet in the cool water.
"I can do that," I told her, reaching out to help.
Smiling, she shook her head at me and swatted my hand away. From his perch on a rock beside me, Mulder laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him, defiantly, eliciting giggles from the young woman.
Although the cool water felt good on my feet, when it initially came into contact with each open wound, it burned and stung. My cringing was upsetting the young woman, so to distract myself I tried to learn her name.
"Wanik," she told me when she finally understood what I was asking.
It seemed to me that the stinging had just begun to wane when Wanik gestured to Mulder to pick me up again. When we got back to the fire, the good smells of the cooking had been replaced by a far more acrid smell. Omiga was crouched by the fire, stirring something in a cast-iron pot. That pot was the first vestige of civilization that I'd seen here.
From the deepness of his voice and the power that he seemed to hold, I'd expected Omiga to be a bigger man. In his youth, he must have been strong and lean, but now he was small and wizened. His face was a mass of wrinkles and his long hair was mostly grey.
As we approached the fire, Omiga indicated that he wanted Mulder to set me down by the fire. There were two large pieces of deer skin there that Omiga had me to put my feet on. Mulder plunked himself down beside me to watch. While Omiga continued to stir his foul-smelling concoction, I was drawn to the activity in the camp. Aside from the children, Omiga and Nawkaw seemed to be the only men here. Judging from the number of children and the two obviously pregnant women I saw, I assumed that there must be more men somewhere--hunting presumably.
Whatever was happening here, I was being sucked right into it. I was beginning to believe that I was in a real Native American village, not just a convincing recreation. But I knew that wasn't possible. There was no way that a culture like this could have survived unaltered while the world around them moved on; at least, not in Wisconsin. It's not big enough to allow for the kind of isolation that would have been needed to create this society.
When I glanced at Mulder, I caught him looking around with the same sense of wonder that I was feeling. It was a small comfort to think that he was as perplexed as I was. My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzz in the village. As I was turning to ask Mulder if he could see what was going on, a group of about 20 men began to stream into the village. Two of the younger men were carrying a deer and most of the women hurried to help them.
Initially there seemed to be a lot of excitement about the deer, until Mulder and I were spotted. Then there was a great deal of talking at once. The man who seemed to be in charge approached the fire. Speaking rapidly to Omiga, he nodded towards us. But Omiga didn't get excited; he spoke slowly and softly to the large man. Interspersed with words that I didn't understand, I heard our names a couple of times.
Leaning over to look at my feet, the man nodded, said a few words and then left. From his stance and apparent authority, I assumed him to be chief. All attention had left us and was now focussed on the deer that was being taken to the woods on the opposite side of the encampment from the stream. Mulder took advantage of the lull in activity to find out who the man had been.
"Namid," Omiga smiled at us and nodded.
"I take it Namid is the chief," Mulder said quietly.
"And he didn't look thrilled to see us," I added.
"I think Omiga put in a good word for us," he nodded towards the old man.
"I think you're right," I let out a long breath. "I had no idea what he was saying, but his tone and demeanor scared me."
"Me, too," Mulder confessed, surprising me.
I was about to ask him if he thought that everything had been smoothed over, when Omiga began to say something. As he spoke, he lifted a bag made from very thin skin out of the pot. I could tell that he was trying to explain to me what he was doing. So I shook my head and shrugged to show him that I didn't understand.
He was silent for a minute, then he smiled and pointed at the bag and then at my foot. I nodded to show him that I understood now. Then he touched the bag and drew his hand away quickly to show me that it was hot--I nodded again. When he untied the bag I could see that it was full of what looked like leaves and bark.
I drew a sharp breath when he set my heel into the steaming mixture, but I nodded for him to continue when he quickly looked up at me. He then ensured that some of the leaves were covering my other blister. When he was satisfied, he wrapped my foot in the deer skin that it had been resting on. Then he repeated the process on my right foot. When he was finished, I was surprised to find that I was clutching Mulder's hand.
"Are you okay?" He sounded worried.
"It stings, but that's okay," I assured him. "I assume this stuff has some kind of antiseptic quality."
"I'm surprised that you'd trust folk medicine, Scully."
"How can I argue with the people who discovered acetylsalicylic acid?" I grinned.
"What?" he laughed.
"Aspirin, Mulder...from willow bark," I clarified. "Besides, most medicines come from plants. Through trial and error these people have discovered what works."
"You can't not make it scientific, can you?" He rolled his eyes.
I was about to continue the debate when Wanik appeared with two bowls. Although it hadn't been that long since our last meal, I was happy to see more food. As we ate, dusk settled over the camp and quickly deepened.
Nawkaw appeared and spoke briefly to Omiga. The old healer stood up and followed him. While he was gone, a smiling Wanik came to retrieve our empty bowls. Smiling, I rubbed my stomach to let her know that I'd enjoyed it. She giggled shyly and then left.
"Now what?" Mulder wondered aloud. "Do you think that we're supposed to sleep here?"
"I dunno, maybe," I shrugged. "It would be better than most of the flea-bag motels that you pick."
"They're mostly clean," he defended himself.
"Mmm," I replied, noncommittally. I had begun to think that Omiga wasn't coming back when his wrinkled face appeared in the circle of firelight. He motioned for us to follow him, so Mulder scrambled to his feet and picked me up. We were led to a small wigwam and ushered inside. After Mulder set me down on the bed of skins and furs, Omiga knelt down beside me and then leaned in to press his lips against my forehead. Without another word, he got up and left us alone.
"Don't I get a good-night kiss?" Mulder pouted.
"He was checking to see if I was running a fever, Mulder," I chuckled.
"Likely story!"
"I'll kiss you good-night if you like," I offered.
In the darkness of our shelter I couldn't see Mulder's face, but I could make out his kneeling form, not moving.
"I'll take that as a no," I said quietly, hoping to mask my disappointment.
But then Mulder moved quickly, pressing his lips against mine in a rather long, albeit chaste kiss. As soon as he pulled back I missed the softness of his lips against mine.
"Happy now?" I asked as I lay down on my side.
"No, I'm one of those straight guys who hates kissing beautiful women," he chuckled.
"Thank you, Mulder," I whispered.
"For what?" he asked as he settled in behind me.
"For saying that I am beautiful."
"Surely you didn't need me to tell you that you are a beautiful woman, Scully." Mulder pulled a fur over me as he spoke.
"I guess it's been a long time since anyone told me that," I confessed.
"I'm sorry," he gently apologized.
"It's hardly your fault, Mulder," I laughed. I was expecting him to say something else, but he remained quiet.
"Isn't there something you want to talk about?" I asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Like what?" He sounded surprised.
"Oh, I dunno. Like where are we? How have these people stayed so isolated? Little things like that."
"I don't think that you want to know what I believe, Scully."
"Why not?"
"Because I think that we are only about five miles away from the place that we had coffee yesterday," he informed me evenly.
"How is that possible?" I couldn't figure out what Mulder was thinking.
"Think about this, Scully. If you were doing research and you wanted to use human subjects, but you knew that you would never be given permission, what would you do?"
"You think that Dr. Mettler used homeless people because no one would miss them?" I clarified.
"And no one did for a long time. It wasn't until a social worker noticed, that a police report was even filed," he added.
"And they didn't believe her until she pointed out that it was ten people, not just one or two. Their disappearances *all* couldn't be blamed on the erratic behavior of street people," I recalled from the report.
"Even then the police didn't do much," Mulder noted.
"I never did ask, Mulder. How did we get this case?"
"I asked for it. It came up when I did one of my routine searches for 'unexplained disappearances'," he explained.
"What kind of research do you think that Dr. Mettler is doing?"
"What do you think?" he asked. "What would a physics professor want with human subjects?"
"I haven't the foggiest, Mulder," I had to admit.
"I think it's something very near and dear to your heart, Scully."
"What?" I said, now totally confused. "Why won't you just tell me what you're thinking?"
"Because you won't believe me unless you figure it out for yourself," he replied.
"And you think that I will eventually?"
"You just have to believe in what you know is theoretically possible, Scully."
I was too tired to grasp what Mulder was trying to say. Sleep overtook me quickly. It had been a long, exciting but exhausting day. As the veil of sleep clouded my mind, I thought I heard Mulder's voice saying, "There is so much that I want you to believe, Scully."
The following morning, Wanik's sweet smile greeted me when I opened my eyes. She had brought our breakfast to us. I was surprised that we were still being treated like royalty. I'd thought that Namid would have put an end to that; I'd underestimated him.
Setting the bowls down, Wanik backed out of the wigwam. Mulder was still snoring softly in my ear, his arm hung loosely over my waist again.
"Mulder," I said softly, but he didn't stir. "Mulder," I repeated, a little louder.
"Mmm," he mumbled and snuggled a little closer to me. His nose was buried in my hair and his arm now hugged me tightly.
At that instant I didn't care where we were or how we got there. I would have happily stayed like that forever. But I knew that Mulder was only drawn to the warm body beside him. He didn't think about me in sexual terms. To him, we were partners and friends, nothing more. I'd decided long ago if that was all Mulder could give me, I would have to be satisfied with it. But this situation was making me realize what I was missing. I figured that it was best not to torture myself.
"Mulder!" I said a third time, loudly.
"What?" He seemed to be wide awake instantly. "Oh, sorry," he said, sitting up quickly.
"Sorry?" I was confused. "I was just trying to tell you that our breakfast is here."
After our meal, I was in a quandary. I had to pee very badly, but Omiga had wrapped my feet in such a way that it was almost impossible to walk. Without telling him why, I sent Mulder to fetch Wanik. When he brought her back, I sent him away again, looking very bewildered.
After several unsuccessful attempts, I finally got Wanik to grasp my problem. She ran and got another young woman that she introduced as Migisi. Together they helped me to hobble into the woods. When we got back, Mulder scooped me up immediately.
"What are you doing on your feet? Don't let Omiga catch you," he warned. "He's been looking for you, by the way."
"I had to pee," I whispered, which was silly, because no one could understand me anyway.
"I could've helped you, Scully" he sighed.
"I would've felt funny asking you," I admitted shyly.
"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable telling me anything. I thought we were beyond that, Scully." The emotion I saw in his hazel eyes shocked me; I didn't know what to say. But it didn't matter, because Mulder was setting me down in front of the fire.
"Will you be okay on your own?" he asked. "I was going to head down to the stream."
"Of course," I waved him off. I was actually relieved to have some time to myself, so to speak. Mulder and I had been in such close proximity over the last couple of days, that all of the feelings I'd been trying to suppress had come closer to the surface than they'd been in a very long time. Why did I make so much of little things? Things like what I thought I had just seen in Mulder's eyes. It couldn't mean anything; I must have been reading too much into it.
My thoughts were interrupted by Omiga saying my name. He had unwrapped my foot and wanted me to see how much better it looked. In no time, he had changed the poultice and rewrapped my bandage. When he was finished with both feet, he took his pot and ambled out of sight.
Women were beginning to gather around the fire as they had the previous day. Some of them still eyed me cautiously, but most had relaxed and seemed to go about their business unconcerned. It filled me with a sense of peacefulness to sit and watch the children play while their mothers and grandmothers were busy with their tasks. Wanik was busily sewing on a pair of moccasins. Every now and again she'd hold them up for me to see. When I smiled my approval, she would bend happily to her work again.
It seemed that the men weren't leaving camp. Instead they were repairing tools, mending traps and sharpening their knives. When I saw those knives, I realized that they were another modern implement, like Omiga's pot. They *must* have had some contact with the outside world in order to obtain them.
I was still caught up in watching all of the activity when two young teen-aged girls ran into camp giggling. They smiled at me and then looked away shyly. Then one of the girls said something to the group of women around the fire. Some of them chuckled, but they all smiled at me. I had no idea what they were finding so amusing.
About five minutes later, Mulder walked back into camp. When the women saw him, they began to murmur and smile at me again.
"I take it everyone knows," he said dejectedly, sitting down beside me.
"Everyone but me. What happened?"
"They caught me taking a bath in the stream," he groaned; his ears had flushed pink.
"Is that all?" I laughed. "Don't worry about it, Mulder. They all seem to think that I am a lucky woman."
"What?" He looked at me in obvious confusion.
"You know that they assume we're a couple, right?" I began.
"Yeah," he nodded.
"Well after they saw you naked, they think that I'm a lucky woman."
"Oh." He seemed to shrink in place; his ears flushing even redder.
After the midday meal, I told Mulder that I would like to have a bath too. Together we explained it to Wanik; and he left with her to get water. When they got back, I had Mulder carry me to the wigwam and then shooed him away. With Wanik's help, I managed to have a fairly decent sponge bath. She didn't seem to think that it was at all out of the ordinary that I'd asked for her help instead of Mulder's. Even though I had to get back into the same clothes that I'd been wearing for three days, my cool bath made me feel invigorated.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Mulder and I *did* discuss the fact that, once my feet had healed, we would have to hike in the other direction to see what we could find. Mulder hoped that our new found native friends might be able to lead us to some English speaking people.
"I hope so," I sighed. "I'm getting awfully tired of charades."
After Omiga had changed the dressings on my feet again, Mulder and I retired to our wigwam.
"Do you have any further thoughts about the case?" Mulder asked once we had settled into the bed.
"Not really," I told him. "The only kind of research where you might want to use human subjects that I can think of is medical. But Dr. Mettler is a physicist."
"I think we became part of his experiment, Scully."
"Something to do with the drugs?" I tried to see if I understood what he was thinking.
"I think that the drugs only made us easier to work with." He persisted in being cryptic.
"Look, Mulder, I already told you that I don't know what you're getting at, and I'm tired of playing guessing games," I said angrily. "Unless you decide to share what you're thinking, I don't want to discuss this anymore."
Just as he was drawing a breath to respond, a noise from outside startled both of us.
"What was that?" I whispered.
"Shh," Mulder quieted me. We heard the sound again--like someone calling out in pain.
"I'm going to see what that was," Mulder announced, scrambling over me.
Within seconds I heard some murmuring voices and then Mulder skulked back into the wigwam.
"Whatever is happening, the women won't let me see," he said as he clambered back over me.
"Maybe they'll let me," I suggested.
"But you can't walk," Mulder protested.
"I can sort of hobble. I'll be fine," I assured him as I crawled outside.
The night was almost jet black; illuminated only by the cold light of the stars above me. As I got to my feet, I noticed that the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees and the wind was whispering through the trees, making the leaves rustle eerily. A small crowd of women had gathered around one of the wigwams about 30 feet from me. If I hadn't heard someone cry out in pain, I wouldn't have been at all concerned. But after everything they had done for me, I needed to see if I could help.
As I began to make may way towards the women, a ghastly wail rose up from the wigwam, sending icy fingers up and down my spine. A hush fell over the women and they all silently moved away; not one of them acknowledged my presence as they passed me.
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