Sinagua Rising Read online

  Sinagua Rising

  A story of survival after a worldwide catastrophe

  R.G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  Cover Art by: Kay Andersen-Wyckoff

  Cover Text by: Joe Crary

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the author. Said permission may be requested by emailing the author at [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Names, people, places, public and private institutions, corporate and official entities and incidents are either fictitious or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

  Copyright © 2017 by R.G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  ISBN-13: 978-1545420478

  ISBN-10:1545420475

  ANDERKOF PUBLISHING

  610 Fieldstone Drive, Ste. 100

  Georgetown, Texas 78633

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my grandchildren, Cole, Genny, and Miku, and grandchildren around the globe who shall inherit the world we leave behind.

  R.G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  “Crises refine life. In them you discover what you are.”

  Allan K. Chalmers

  Prologue

  We live in a world dominated by cell phones, iPads, computers, and every kind of appliance man has so far conceived.

  Our students no longer learn the logic of math; they learn to use calculators that do the work for them. They no longer know how to write; they use computers that check their grammar, spelling, and punctuation and give them a choice of writing styles. Instead of sending letters to friends and family they send an email or a text message, most often in some nearly undecipherable code. They can’t utter a sentence without use of the word, “like.”

  People have become so dependent on communication by electronic devices that they wear phones in their ear virtually all of their waking hours. They seemingly talk to the air in movies, in grocery stores, in bank lines, and on ships and other modes of transportation, or while walking down the street. They communicate the most inane or personal information, all the while infringing on the spatial and auditory rights of others.

  Computers control almost everything in our lives to one extent or another. Robots, controlled by computers, are replacing men and women in industry; feeding the ever-growing masses of un- or under-employed workers, dependent on the charity of others to survive.

  We get our news in television sound-bites, our music from iPods, or other mobile devices, and our gossip from the radio or tabloids that shout out to us while we’re in the grocery checkout line; and social media seems to cover the gamut.

  We are now raising a generation of literary illiterates. Most have never heard of, or read, the classics and limit their reading to comic books, graphic novels, subtitles on movies, or the operating instructions for their latest electronic gadget. Newspapers attempt to keep readership interest by using large-type headlines that more often than not are misleading but become fact because no one reads the story itself; that is if they haven’t converted exclusively to on-line reporting.

  Families don’t eat together, go to church together, play together or converse together. The closest they get to togetherness is watching the latest dumbed-down sitcoms, reality shows or vampire series on television; and that only happens when the TV in the child’s room is not working.

  Our leadership, at almost every level, is driven by the three-legged stool of American, and universal, politics: money, power, and privilege. All directed at reelection.

  The Federal government is arrogant! Government at all levels has become unresponsive to the people. The gap between the haves and the have-nots grows, leading to greater class struggles and degradation of the environment.

  We take for granted the food on our tables: just go to the supermarket; the gas in our cars: just go to the service station; our water: just turn on the faucet; our electricity: just flip the switch; our health: just see a doctor or go to the hospital when we need it; our waste disposal: just flush the toilet or put out the trash can; and our heating, cooling, cooking, and food storage: all handled by mechanical appliances.

  We live in a world of immediate gratification, of total dependence on machines or others, and it seems to be getting worse rather than better.

  What would they, we, all do if suddenly we were forced to rely on ourselves, on our collective one-on-one communicated and shared smarts? What if there was no electricity? What if our world was turned topsy-turvy; if chaos was the order of the day; and the streets were ruled by the unruly?

  “Can’t happen,” you say. Au contraire! It is not outside the realm of possibility. We live in a fragile society vulnerable to our own egos, avarice, and reliance on others, and on a fragile planet unconditionally susceptible to the caprice of galactic forces.

  Would we be forced back into the caves of the past? Could we, or would we, survive? Would there be a new awakening of the human spirit?◘

  SINAGUA RISING CHARACTERS

  (Ages shown are at time of CME)

  WESTIN FAMILY 95 Morningside Drive

  Bishop Westin – patriarch (70)

  Carly Westin – matriarch (62)

  Tanner Westin – son of Bishop & Carly (35)

  Tara Westin – wife of Tanner (34)

  Trey Westin – son of Tanner & Tara (11)

  Kiera Westin – daughter of Tanner & Tara (5)

  LLOYD FAMILY 105 Morningside Drive

  Jack Lloyd (68)

  Celeste Lloyd (63)

  BRENNER FAMILY 125 Morningside Drive

  Travis Brenner – patriarch (68)

  Melanie Hodges Brenner – matriarch (65)

  Ellen Brenner Solano – daughter of Travis & Melanie (36)

  Michael Solano – husband of Ellen (37)

  Kathleen Solano – daughter of Ellen & Michael (17)

  Storm Solano – daughter of Kathleen (unborn)

  THOMAS FAMILY 145 Morningside Drive

  Bud Thomas – patriarch (62)

  Jennifer Thomas – matriarch (57)

  Kristen Thomas Hudson – daughter of Bud & Jennifer (38)

  Matt Hudson – husband of Kristen (38)

  Tate & Mattie Hudson – twins of Kristen & Matt (16)

  Colby Thomas – son of Bud & Jennifer (37)

  Maria Gonzalez Thomas – wife of Colby (34)

  Jason – son of Colby & Maria (15)

  Olivia – daughter of Colby & Maria (11)

  Todd – son of Colby & Maria (8)

  OTHER CHARACTERS

  Philip Chapman (18)

  Jorge Escalante (45)

  Estella Escalante (44)

  Jessica (Jessie) Escalante (24)

  Tina Escalante (15)

  Jaime Escalante (13)

  Teresa (Tess) Amado (13)

  Manuel (Manny) Amado (9)

  Javier (Javi) Amado (18 mos.)

  Fish Farm: Ezra Hurley

  Stenton Farm:

  Henry & Ruth Stenton

  JR & Cathy Stenton

  Hank (Little Hank) Stenton

  Scorpion Meadows Farm:

  Jonas & Cindy Caldwell

  Frank Sheridan

  Riley

  Hauptman Farm:

  Eduardo Miranda

  Rafael

  Chapter 1

  Red Rock Country

  “Nothing is more beautiful than sunrise in the Red Rock Valley. As the sun peaks over Horse Mesa, its rays create a halo over Courthouse Butte, Bell Rock, and the many other red sandstone monuments in the Valley and then proceed to gild them from top to bottom in gold as it moves above the Mesa. It
is a magical time and must have seemed even more so to the Sinagua, the ancient people who occupied the Valley for hundreds of years until disappearing about 750 years ago. To them the sun was a mystery, but they knew its power and so faced their pueblos to the south to catch the full benefit of its warmth, and held ceremonies to thank it for the blessings of life-giving crops and natural vegetation.

  “Today, we simply marvel at its beauty and luxuriate in its light, warmth, and medicinal value. The sun’s rays make us feel good, they give us tans, they make the grass and leaves green, and make the flowers bloom.

  “Nowhere is more blessed by these wonderful sunrises than here in the Village of Oak Creek. We live in a land of plenty, surrounded by magnificent vistas, and lead lives of tranquility and peace.

  “Nothing is more beautiful than these sunrises, except the sunsets, when the whole process is reversed; the gilding is slowly removed and the Valley turns from gold to dusk to dark. But we take comfort in knowing that on the morrow the process will be repeated.

  “I greet every sunrise on my deck with a cup of coffee and the sounds of uncounted songbirds singing their own greeting to the sun; and say farewell to every sunset with a glass of wine, relaxing in my favorite chair, savoring the last remnants of gold as the sun backlights Horse Mesa. I hope you do the same.”

  So wrote the late Hamilton Geddes, the founder and editor of the Villager, the only newspaper in the Village of Oak Creek, in an editorial. Ham, as he preferred to be called, was the Village’s biggest enthusiast, an icon in the community for over 20 years until he passed away just three years ago. His wife found him, sitting in his favorite chair, on his deck, with a glass of wine beside him. He had seen his last sunset. His wife passed away a year later but his daughter, Cynthia, and her husband, Jonas Caldwell, who took over the newspaper after Ham’s death, still live in the Village.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  The Red Rock Valley is known worldwide for its red rock formations, and the communities of Sedona and the Village of Oak Creek sit at its epicenter. The two communities sit at an elevation of 4,200 feet above sea level in the heart of Central Arizona, 120 miles north of Phoenix and 30 miles south of Flagstaff. Though Sedona, an incorporated city, boasts a population of 10,000 and the Village of Oak Creek occupies an unincorporated area of Yavapai County immediately east of Sedona and has a population of only 5,000, the area draws over 3 million visitors annually. It is one of most frequently visited attractions in Arizona, second only to the nearby Grand Canyon.

  The Valley enjoys four pleasantly mild seasons, clean air, and ample water. In addition to the tourists, it is a mecca for artists, writers, entrepreneurs, and retirees.

  The Village, as it’s called by the locals, didn’t really begin developing until the ‘60s, unlike Sedona which dates back to 1902 and was incorporated in 1988. Lots were staked out by developers in what was otherwise high desert, marking out parcels previously occupied only by cactus, snakes, and scorpions; which quickly resettled elsewhere as people moved in.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  One of the first to recognize the potential of the Village was Bishop Westin, who moved to Sedona from Joplin, Missouri in 1970, after his six year stint in the Navy Seals, five of those years in Viet Nam.

  As soon as he graduated from high school, he enlisted, knowing that he would eventually be drafted anyway and wanting to select his own service option.

  Bishop stood just two-inches under six feet and weighed in at a solid 180, mostly muscle. His father was a stern taskmaster and often abusive. Bishop compensated for that by carrying a deep-seated anger. If you asked his high school buddies to describe Bish, as he was known to everyone, they would have said: “He wasn’t afraid of anyone; he was built like a brick outhouse; he liked to fight; he was a loyal friend who would stand up for you with anyone and always had your back.” His football coach would say: “Bish liked to hit, so he played center linebacker on defense and fullback on offense all four years of high school. Many an opposing player still remembers the hits Bish put on them.” His teachers would say: “Bishop wasn’t a good student; not because he wasn’t smart, because he was, but rather because he didn’t apply himself.” All but the latter where traits ideal for being a Seal, and the latter never came into play because in boot camp and Seal training he did apply himself.

  Bishop seemed to look forward to the special missions he and his Seal team regularly undertook in Viet Nam, and he quickly rose in rank, finally attaining the rank of Chief before retiring.

  Tours of duty in Viet Nam changed almost everyone who served; some for the good, some for the worse. No one knows what Bishop did on his missions, but we can guess based on what we’ve heard from other Seals or read in books, because Bishop never talked about his service. In fact, it was taboo. He went in an angry, almost hostile, young man and came out a mellow, outgoing and gregarious man. He went in with no goal in life and came out with the desire to be a success at whatever he decided to do. Though, from time to time, he suffered bad nightmares reliving his Nam experiences, he didn’t bring home his demons, as many of his Nam peers did; he left his there. He was known to say that his best memories of service in Nam were his R&R trips to Tokyo. But he won’t talk about those either.

  In 1969, just six months after separating from the Navy, he decided to take his beat-up old Chevy truck and see some of the U.S. He didn’t want to head east to the big cities but wanted to see some of the open spaces of the West. For two years he traveled, until his savings and separation pay were almost gone. At that point he found himself in Sedona, Arizona, and he fell in love with the scenery, the laid-back lifestyle, and the fact that Sedona was just starting to grow and offered a person with grit many entrepreneurial opportunities. With his remaining savings he went to Real Estate school in Flagstaff, only an hour’s drive away, and when he got his license he returned to Sedona to settle down and start his own real estate firm, Westin Associates. He decided to concentrate on the Village of Oak Creek (VOC) because that was where things were just beginning to happen.

  While handling purchases and sales for individual listings, he also negotiated for several parcels on the southeast end of the Village and immediately subdivided them and put out his stakes for quarter-acre home sites. He graded a future road on an east-west line below a small mesa on the south side of the valley and named it Morningside Drive. There would be ten home sites on the north side of the street, as no building could occur against the slope of the mesa on the south side, and those lots would be backed by another ten sites on the parallel street, which he named Raintrail Way. On the east end of Morningside Drive and Raintrail Way he graded Indian Ruin Road, which was really an extension of Raintrail as it turned south and went up the hill to the top of the mesa. On the west end he did the same and named it Starlight Way. The property between Raintrail Way and Highway 179, at that time just a small two-lane road, he reserved for future multi-family development. He had high hopes and high expectations for his project. He even marked off one site in the middle of Morningside Drive for his own future dream home, which he wouldn’t get around to building for another 30 years.

  Bishop’s business was an instant success. He bought more and more property, subdivided it, staked out the lots and sold them. He repeated the effort so many times he lost track of the total number of home sites he had sold, but his bank account reflected his success. In 1974 he hired two additional agents and an office manager; an attractive 21-year old from Phoenix, named Carly Andersen. He was eight years her senior, but by 1978 they had fallen in love and married, at which time she retired and gave birth to their son, Tanner.◘

  Chapter 2

  Premonition

  Tanner awoke slowly, a warm shaft of sunlight penetrating the haze of sleep. He instinctively reached his left arm to the space beside him in bed where his wife slept, only to find it empty. He sat up, shaking off the fog of slumber. Now, fully awake, he saw Tara, his wife of 15 years, standing by the window in her Japanese yukata (a thin
cotton robe), her arms wrapped across her chest as if she were hugging herself. He took a moment to admire her silhouette, still very pleasing to him despite having borne him two children. He stood and walked slowly to her. As he wrapped his arms around her he felt her tremble. He immediately recognized she was not reacting to some romantic notion but from fear or anxiety. He kissed her ear and whispered, “What’s the problem, Sunshine,” the term of endearment he had appropriated from his father, by which he had addressed her from almost the first time they dated.

  As he waited for her response, he admired the shafts of sunlight that crested Horse Mesa and emblazoned the upper reaches of Courthouse Butte and Bell Rock. The sky was a clear blue, broken only occasionally by puffy white clouds. It was a beautiful summer day, the day before the 4th of July.

  “I’m worried,” she finally responded, pressing back into his body and savoring the warmth and protection of his encircling arms. “I’m worried that something bad is going to happen. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, just a premonition, but it feels very real.”

  “I know you’re worried about the series of solar flares we’ve experienced the past few days,” Tanner responded, “but they don’t seem to affect anything but communications, television reception, and GPS devices; and the effect is short-lived.”

  “I guess it’s the fact that we’ve had three solar flares in succession on top of a terrible drought and severe weather patterns throughout the past several years that has me on edge,” she whispered. “It makes me wonder what’s next. And, I worry because that’s what mothers do. I don’t want anything to happen to Trey or Kiera. It’s the unknown that worries me,” she added.

  “I guess I can understand that, Sunshine, but just look outside. See how beautiful it is? Everything will be fine; you’ll see.”