Mapiya lived at the Northwestern edge of the Navajo Nation far removed from a large majority of the community. The one-story ranch house she owned sat at the end of a long dirt road that led back to town. The ranch was on a little more than ten acres that Mapiya used thoroughly. Her house always had desert flowers in bloom, making it a beacon among the sand, desert flora, and wildlife. She had built trellises for the front and back, as well as window boxes, so that the flowers had ample room to spread and grow. The flowers painted the yard in swaths of yellow, orange, and red. Mapiya’s yard also had three large planter boxes filled to the brim with growing vegetables and herbs that she tended to daily.

Mapiya couldn’t help but admire her home and garden as she walked towards it. She saw the twin’s Ford – well, really her Ford – parked by the house and was pleased. They would stay out all night if they could, especially when preparing meals and cleaning were involved. Tonight was their night for dinner, so she was pleasantly surprised that they were home before her – hopefully with dinner made.

When she got closer to the house she realized that she didn’t have her keys with her. She didn’t have anything with her. She had left the house earlier that day suddenly, because she had felt an urge to leave while she was gardening. She hadn’t even left a note to the kids. Not that they needed one. She had just walked and walked until she had reached the waterfall. It was there that she had received her imprudent brother’s message. As she neared the front door she detoured to the planter box she had been tending to before she had left. Mapiya remembered that she had taken off her shoes, gloves, hat, jacket, and keys midway through weeding and left them to the side. However, when Mapiya arrived at the planter box, her things were nowhere to be seen. She sincerely hoped that an animal hadn’t run off with them.

Mapiya inspected her tomatoes and other vegetables quickly before turning back towards the house. She walked to the front door and struck it three times. She heard footsteps approaching the door immediately afterward. It was opened by a tall girl with smooth black hair even longer than Mapiya’s. Intelligent, but chastising, gray eyes took her in quickly and lit up.

“Mom, you’ve got to stop walking off during the day without your things,” the girl said with a smirk. “Anyone that sees you walking across the desert is gonna think that you’ve got more than a few screws loose.”

“Birdie,” Mapiya sighed in exasperation. Before she could finish her sentence, Birdie held up a hand to interrupt.

“I don’t want to hear anything about following an instinct or a feeling, okay?” Birdie said, moving to the side so Mapiya could come in. “I don’t care why you do it, just remember to take your things with you when you go. Especially your cellphone. Basil and I bought that for you for a reason. Also, we brought in the stuff that you left out by the planter box.”

“I’d promise to bring stuff if I had any control over that, but I don’t. Also, I refuse to use that phone. I taught you both how to use the air itself to speak to me,” Mapiya said haughtily as she walked in. “I’ve survived for hundreds of years without a phone, I don’t need one now.”

Birdie rolled her eyes at her mother’s comment, but otherwise said nothing.

The house smelled like chilies and spices. Mapiya breathed deeply as she walked further into her house. She suspected that Birdie had not cooked because the food actually smelled edible. The radio played lightly over the house’s stereo system.

“Well, you gonna tell me what happened today, or maybe where you went?” Birdie asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Why, did something bad happen?” Birdie probed.

“Let it go Birdie,” replied Mapiya as she walked into the kitchen. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw her son, Basil, stirring a pot on the stove. Mapiya watched her son work for a minute, his long arms reaching out to grab spice after spice, his shoulder length black hair escaping the ponytail that he had placed it in. Basil waved his hand over the pot so that he could smell the food better. He nodded to himself and covered the pot so that it could simmer. Mapiya chose then to walk around the butcher block island and tap on his shoulder. Basil jumped slightly at her touch and turned around. He looked down at his mother with a smile.

“You’re back!” he signed, his eyes full of expression.

Mapiya was pulled into a tight embrace and marveled at how tall and strong her son had become. This close she could see the sparkle in the grey eyes that were so like his sister’s, the light stubble growing on his chin, and the deep tan of his skin. Basil had grown so large that Mapiya could no longer see over his shoulder. She remembered a time where she could pick up Basil and Birdie simultaneously, but that was over 20 years ago.

“Bend down so I can give you a kiss,” Mapiya requested, looking straight in Basil’s eyes. Basil was adept at reading lips and, from her position in the hug, she was unable to sign. Basil released her and leaned over so that she could grab his face and place a kiss on his forehead.

“Where were you?” Basil questioned.

“We can all talk about that later, dinner first, okay?” Mapiya both said and signed. When both twins were in the room she had taken to doing both ensure that everyone was included. “Birdie, go set the table please.”

“Why me,” Birdie huffed, “Why not Basil?”

Mapiya raised her eyebrow. “Did you, at any point, do anything to help your brother make dinner tonight?”

“Touché.” Birdie started pulling bowls from the cabinet.

“What did you make dear?” Mapiya asked Basil.

“Chili Verde with rice,” He replied, “but I think I might have burnt the rice.”

“It’s okay dear, your food is always good. Better than your sister’s anyway,” Mapiya said, giving her son a pat on the back.

When the table was set and bowls were filled all three sat down. The food was great, as it always was when Basil cooked. Mapiya tapped the table in front of Basil to draw his attention so that she could offer him praise. In the background a radio news report played that caught both Mapiya and Birdie’s attention.

“…in other news, we’ve received news of a strange storm cell that formed over the Havasupai Indian Reservation earlier this afternoon. The storm cell, which was equivalent to a category 3 hurricane, spontaneously formed over the Reservation and caused widespread property damage. Even more baffling, the storm dissipated within thirty minutes of forming. The scientific and meteorological communities will be talking about this storm for months to come! Now off to Bill with the weather forecast.”

Mapiya frowned slightly. She had thought that the storm would be quick enough to escape notice, but apparently not.

“Mom, what the hell?” Birdie hissed. “You can’t just wander off and kick up a storm!”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re really gonna sit there and tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that?”

“Birdie,” Mapiya said calmly, “That storm was not my doing.”

“Really? You’re the only thing strong enough to do that within a hundred miles,” Birdie replied, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

Basil tapped the table the table lightly to get his mother and sister’s attention. They were talking to quickly and, from the angle they were both sitting, he could not read their lips. They didn't notice.

“Birdie, there are things you don’t understand.”

“I understand that you’re lying. I understand that you’re are the only one capable of creating a storm like that.”

“I am not the only one capable of doing this,” Mapiya explained.

“What?” Birdie screeched.

Basil slammed his hand down on the table, annoyed at being ignored. “What is going on?”

“Mom kicked up a storm out on the R-e-s and the radio just reported it, but she’s saying she didn’t do it,” Birdie explained. She had to spell reservation because she couldn't think of the proper sign.

Basil raised his eyebrows so high they nearly touched his hairline. “Mom?”

“My brother did this,” Mapiya whispered. She was ashamed that she had never told her children, but she just wanted to keep them safe. Her brothers could be so cruel, especially to humans. She hung her head briefly.

“You have a brother?” Birdie asked. “Why did you never tell us?

“I actually have three brothers,” Mapiya informed the twins. “All three of them dislike humans to varying degrees. I just wanted to keep you safe, but I can’t do that anymore.”

“Why tell us now?”

Mapiya looked back and forth between Basil and Birdie. She grabbed both of their hands and squeezed briefly before letting go. What she was about to ask of her children would likely put them in harms way.

“I need your help.”