The Gorgon Field Read Free

the Cadillac to a stop on the side of the mountain road. Below was the Valley of Gorgons. It looked as if a giant had pulled the mountain apart to create a deep, green Eden with a tiny stream sparkling in the sunshine, groves of trees here and there, a small dam, and a lake that was the color of the best turquoise. A meadow was in the center of the valley, with horses that looked like toys. Slowly, Charlie began to drive again, but he stopped frequently, and the houses and outbuildings became more detailed, less doll-like. And finally, they had gone far enough to be able to turn and see for the first time the sandstone formations that had given the valley its name. It was late afternoon; the sunlight shafted through the pillars. They looked like frozen flames—red, red-gold, red with black streaks, yellow… . Frozen flames leaping toward the sky.
    The valley, according to the map, was about six miles long, tapered at the east end to a blunt point, with two leglike projections at the western end, one of them nearly two miles long, the other one and a half miles, both roughly fifty feet wide, and in many places much narrower. The lake and several buildings took up the first quarter of the valley, then the main house and more buildings, with a velvety lawn surrounding them all, ended at the halfway point. The meadow with the grazing horses made up the next quarter and the sandstone formations filled the rest. At its widest point, the valley was two miles across, but most of it was less than that. The stream was a flashing ribbon that clung close to the base of the cliffs. There was no natural inlet to the valley except for the tumbled rocks the stream had dislodged. A true hidden valley, Constance thought, awed by the beauty, the perfect containment of a small paradise.
    Deborah met them at the car. Close behind her was a slender young Chicano. She spoke rapid Spanish to him and he nodded. “Come in,” she said to Constance and Charlie then. “I hope your trip was comfortable, not too tiring. I’m glad you’re here. This is Manuel. He’ll be at your beck and call for the duration of your visit, and he speaks perfect English, so don’t let him kid you about that.” Manuel grinned sheepishly.
    “How do you do?” Constance said to the youth. “Just Manuel?”
    “Just Manuel, señora,” he said. His voice was soft, the words not quite slurred, but easy.
    Charlie spoke to him and went behind the car to open the trunk, get out their suitcases.
    “Please, señor,” he said, “permit me. I will place your things in your rooms.”
    “You might as well let him,” Deborah said with a shrug. “Look.” She was looking past them toward the end of the valley.
    The golden globe of the sun was balanced on the highest peak of the formations. It began to roll off; the pillars turned midnight black, with streaks of light blazing between them too bright to bear. Their fire had been extinguished and the whole world flamed behind them. No one spoke or moved until the sun dropped behind the mountain peaks in the distance and the sky was awash in sunset colors of cerise and green and rose-gold; the pillars were simply dark forms against the gaudy backdrop.
    Charlie was the first one to move. He had been holding the keys; now he extended them toward Manuel, and he realized that the boy was regarding Constance with a fixed gaze. When Charlie looked at her, there were tears in her eyes. He touched her arm. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”
    She roused with a start. “I must be more tired than I realized.”
    “Si,” Manuel said then, and took the keys.
    Deborah led them into the house. The house kept changing, Charlie thought as they entered. From up on the cliff, it had not looked very large or imposing. The bottom half was finished in gray stone the color of the granite cliffs behind it. The upper floor had appeared to be mostly glass and pale wood. Above that, a steep roof had gleamed with skylights. It had grown as they