Dance Of Death

"You spoke to me."

"Then you must be Mr. Wametowa."

The old man nodded.

"How can I help you?" Nora asked.

"They want to pray!" Meursault shouted from the sidelines.

Nora ignored her, keeping her attention on Wametowa.

"We're praying to the masks," he said. "That's all we're asking, to speak to our masks."

"Speak to the masks?"

"Yes. To reassure them that we're here, that we care about them, that they haven't been forgotten."

Nora could see Manetti rolling his eyes.

"That's so beautiful," said Meursault, turning her head to better expose her profile to the cameras. Another dozen flashes went off.

"We believe the masks are alive, that they have a spirit. They've been alone and away from us for a long time. We've come to bless them, comfort them."

Suddenly, Nora realized just what the solution was.

She pretended to think for a moment. She knew, from her brief week at Tano Pueblo back in her graduate student days, that they viewed any decision arrived at quickly as a poor decision. "This doesn't seem like a good place to do that," she said at last.

"That's just what I was saying-" Manetti began.

Nora paid no attention. "I wonder if there might be a better place…"

"There is," Manetti said. "Down there on the sidewalk."

Nora flashed a look at Manetti.

"We would like to be closer to our masks, not further," said Wametowa.

"Why don't you come in, then?" Nora asked.

"They won't let us."

"Come in as my guests. I'll take you to the masks right now, so you can speak to them in private-before the unveiling of the hall."

"Dr. Kelly, are you crazy?" Manetti protested.

The Tano elder stared at her a minute. Then his broad, ancient face broke into a radiant smile. He gave a dignified bow. "Eesha łat dził. You are a human being, Miss Nora."

"Bravo!" cried Meursault.

"I won't permit this," the security director said.

"Mr. Manetti, I'll take full responsibility."

"You can't just bring these people into the hall before the ribbon cutting-that's impossible!"

"Nothing's impossible. In fact, this is the way it should be." She turned to the Indians. "Would you gentlemen like to follow me?"

"We'd be happy to," said the Tano.

Meursault linked her arm with the startled old Indian's and they marched forward behind Nora, the crowd of press and onlookers surging behind. "Make way for the Tano elders!" Meursault cried. "Make way!" Her sequined dress shimmered under the lights, her face radiant at seizing so brilliantly the center of attention.

Like magic, the crowd parted as they mounted the red-carpeted steps. The Tanos began softly chanting and beating their drums again as they passed through the Rotunda and entered the Hall of the Heavens, and Nora found herself facing a line of gala partygoers who had fallen rapt at the sight of Native Americans marching toward the hall. No doubt they all thought the procession was part of the program. The mayor came forward, sensing, like Meursault, an opportunity.

Manetti followed behind, his face red but his mouth shut, obviously realizing it would be counterproductive to continue the argument in front of the whole city.

Now Collopy came rushing forward from the greeting line. "Nora! What in the world?"

She bent toward him and whispered quickly. "The Tanos would like to have a private moment with the masks alone, before the ribbon cutting."

"Whatever for?"

"To pray for and bless the masks. That's all."

Collopy frowned. "Nora, this is not the time. Surely, this can wait!"

Nora looked straight into his eyes. "Dr. Collopy. Please trust me on this. I know the Indians of the Southwest well, I've lived and worked among them for years. They're not here to cause you trouble or public embarrassment. They just want a little private time with their masks. By the time the ceremony's over, they'll be gone. And the whole situation will be defused. This is the very best way to handle things, and I know if you give it careful consideration, you'll agree." She dropped her voice even further. "It also happens to be a great public relations opportunity."

Collopy looked at Nora, his patrician face wide with astonishment. Then he looked at Manetti. Finally, he turned toward the waiting Tanos. He cleared his throat and smoothed his hair, his brow wrinkled in thought.

And then suddenly, his face broke into a welcoming smile. He reached out his hand toward the Tano leader. "Welcome! Mr…?"

"Wametowa."

"Of course! Welcome! The museum is delighted to receive you and your group as representatives of the Tano people. I understand you've come a long way to see the Great Kiva masks."

"Two thousand miles."

A murmur went up in the crowd. The cameras were whirring.

"We are so glad you could make it. This is a special honor for the museum and for me personally."

The press was eating it up. Nora felt a huge relief: it was going to turn out all right.

"Our security director, Mr. Manetti, will take you into the hall to, ah, visit with the masks in private. Mr. Manetti? You can handle the security zones a tad ahead of schedule, I'm sure. And leave them alone while they pray."

"Yes, sir."

"Will half an hour suffice?" Collopy asked the leader.

"Yes, thank you," replied the Tano elder.

"Splendid! Afterwards, you're all invited to join the festivities, Mr. Wem, ah, Wem…"

"Wametowa."

"Excellent! Is there anything else we can do?"

"For now, this will suffice." The Tanos nodded, looking around and nodding to one another. "To tell you the truth, we didn't expect to be treated with this kind of respect."

"Nonsense! We're delighted to have you!" Collopy turned toward the cameras, having fully recovered his composure. "The museum thanks the Tano people for the privilege of being allowed to share these remarkable masks with the rest of the world."

Meursault began the clapping and soon the hall was thundering with applause, the television cameras capturing every detail.

Nora watched Manetti lead the group of Indians down the corridor, speaking into a two-way radio as he did so. Then she turned, walked to the nearest chair she could find, and collapsed in it. She couldn't believe she'd spoken to the museum director like that. Her knees felt like rubber.

In a detached, almost weary way, it occurred to her how fitting an elegy this was for Margo. It had been so important to her, this issue of the masks and the Tanos' sovereignty over them. Seeing these Indians ushered into the exhibition with solicitousness and respect would have made her very happy.

Suddenly, a cold glass of champagne appeared before her. She looked up in surprise to see Hugo Menzies standing behind her, resplendent in a magnificent shawl-collared tuxedo, his flowing white hair combed back, face beaming.

He took Nora's hand, placed the cold glass into it, patted her on the back, and sat down. "Did anyone ever tell you what a genius you are?" He chuckled. "That was the most dashing publicity coup it has been my privilege to witness."

Nora shook her head. "It could have been a publicity disaster."

"It would have been a disaster if you hadn't been on the scene. But not only did you handle the Tanos, but you made the museum look downright benevolent. Brilliant, just brilliant." He practically chortled with pleasure, his eyes sparkling. Nora had never seen him so animated.