Tricked

Betsuie, the head engineer. «
    » Hello, « she said, shaking our hands firmly. » Nice to meet you. «
    The elderly gentleman had character carved into his face, arroyos and washes of years trailing above and below his mouth, around his eyes, and down his neck. His black cowboy hat sported a silver band set with turquoise in the front, and he had a buttoned-up broadcloth shirt tucked into his jeans. He had a giant chunk of turquoise floating at the base of his throat, because he’d apparently missed the memo that said bolo ties were out of style and quite likely had never been in style at all. His belt buckle was an enormous silver job worked in fine detail, though I couldn’t say what the design was, since I didn’t take time to examine it carefully. I was too distracted by his aura, which had the telltale white light of a magic user in it.
    » That’s Frank Chischilly, « Coyote said. » He’s a hataa³ii . «
    › Did he say hot tamale? ‹ Oberon asked as I shook hands with Frank.
    No, he said hataa³ii. In the Navajo language, it kinda sorta means a medicine man .
    › Who needs medicine? ‹
    Excellent question .
    » I’m honored to meet you, sir, « I said.
    » Likewise, « he replied. To Granuaile, he didn’t offer his hand but rather tipped his hat and said, » Miss. « His voice was scratchy and warm, like a wool blanket.
    » What brings you out here, Mr. Chischilly? « Granuaile asked before I could.
    » Well, he has to be here, « Coyote explained.
    » Oh, « Granuaile said, nodding, then added, » Sorry, but why does he have to be here? I’m not too clear on what that thing was you called him. Are you a tribal official, Mr. Chischilly? «
    » Nope, « he said, a faint trace of a smile on his chapped lips. » I’m here to do the Blessing Way ceremony, once we get a hogan built up there. «
    » Cool! « Granuaile said, a huge grin lighting her face, and then it disappeared, replaced by uncertainty as Frank’s vague amusement vanished. » Oh. I mean … I didn’t mean to assume. I would love to watch, but I’m not sure if that’s allowed. I actually don’t know what the Blessing Way ceremony is, so forgive me if I just sort of stepped on your toes there, I feel really stupid if that makes you feel any better, and— «
    Chischilly raised a hand to stop her stream of apologies and gave a shrug. » Hey, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with Mr. Benally. «
    Before I could ask who Mr. Benally was, Coyote said, » It’s okay with me. «
    Interesting. Granuaile and I pivoted on our heels to face Coyote with our eyebrows raised, and Oberon said, › Hey, if everyone around here is going to use a fake name, then I should have one too! ‹
    » Thank you, Mr. Benally , « I said, emphasizing the name.
    › I want to be introduced to these people as Snugglepumpkin. You have to say it seriously too, Atticus; you can’t laugh. ‹
    Sophie Betsuie chose that moment to ask, » Is this your dog? What’s his name? «
    » Snugglepumpkin, « I said.
    Sophie snorted in disbelief but recovered rapidly, wiping a nascent grin off her face. » Oh. That’s really his name? «
    › Tell her yes! Play it straight. ‹
    But why?
    › Just do it! ‹
    I nodded somberly. » That’s his name. «
    » Oh. Well, that’s … simply … adorable . « Sophie put her hands flat on her thighs and bent her knees a bit as she looked at Oberon. Her voice took on that saccharine-sweet tone people use when they talk to something they think is cute. » Yes, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Are you a good boy, Snugglepumpkin? «
    Oberon wagged his tail and came over within petting distance.
    » Oh, yes, you are a good boy, yes, you are . « She stopped making sense and instead made high-pitched squeals of delight as she scratched Oberon’s giant head; the rest of us stood and watched as a woman with an advanced degree completely lost her mind.
    Okay, explain to me what you’re doing , I said.
    › I’m testing a hypothesis, and so far it’s working. It states that any human female who can be classified as a » dog person, « when confronted with a friendly-looking dog of any breed bearing a ridiculously cute name, will begin to make sounds at least two octaves above her normal register within thirty seconds of meeting said dog. She went there in less than ten seconds. ‹ He sounded particularly smug about that last part.
    Oberon, you shouldn’t have done this .
    › I am Snugglepumpkin. Hear me roar. ‹
    When she snaps