When I was 20 something I was driving on Route 66 on the outskirts of Albuquerque. It was late at night and I saw a woman walking along a sparse stretch of the road. I stopped to see if she needed a ride. She was about 50 years old. She was holding something in her right hand but I couldn’t see it very well. She got in and we engaged in some small talk. I agreed to take her home. It was not far off the main road. After a few minutes she showed me what was in her hand. It was a rock about the size of a softball. She said, “You know an Indian woman can kill a man with a rock.” I believed her, but she didn’t kill me.
Nate – NM