Chapter 17 - Shadows of Freedom

“The Indian…stands free and unconstrained in Nature, is her inhabitant and not her guest, and wears her easily and gracefully. But the civilized man has the habits of the house. His house is a prison.”

Henry David Thoreau

 Maria had grown up in Chamita, New Mexico. Her family lived on a small ranch by the Rio Chama River, a short distance from the Old Spanish Capitol of 1598. Of the seven children, Maria was the only one still living in the area. Her three brothers and three sisters were spread across the United States like the seeds of the cottonwoods that surround her father’s ranch.

After passing Len’s Rover, Maria found herself continuing to drive down diamond drive thinking about her sister in Chicago. This was the first year in her life that she and Barbara hadn’t spent Christmas together. She wondered if it was their last. Tears began to stream down her cheeks while she continued past the Los Alamos airport. Peter sounded like he’s going to say something from the back seat. Johnathan turned around in his chair and held his finger to his mouth.

 “Shh. Let her be for awhile.”

 Peter holds up both of his hands with their palms up and shruggs his shoulders in reply and whispers in Johnathans ear, “I’m worried about Barbara?”

 “Quite Peter. Everything will be alright.”

 The airport lies on top of a mesa that has ferried scientists in and out of Los Alamos for 50 years. It’s small tower belies the value of the cargo entrusted to the skilled pilots taking off and landing here. The most brilliant minds of our country have come and gone. Maria never worried after dropping Len off at the airport. She never felt the gut wrenching pain that was eviscerating her soul on this drive out of Los Alamos. She never felt the fear of doom that was embracing her.

It was something Len was quite familiar with. He often spoke of the possible break up of our government.

 He would say, “It happened to Russia. It could happen to us.”

 Maria always answered the same way, “This is the real world Len.”

 Len often flew Mesa Airlines in and out of Los Alamos. His trips, that were spent in meetings all over the world, began and ended here at this small town airport. Maria never feared him flying. She never understood the risk.

 With a mixture of anger and sorrow Maria thought, “Where are Len and Jack?”

 She clutched the steering wheel as they started down the winding snow packed road to the valley below. She could barely keep her red swollen eyes open when the car rounded the first turn into the glare of the morning sun. Long shadows were accented by brilliant white across the snow covered valley. Maria thought more of Len her sister as she drove toward her father’s ranch.