A Rainbow in Paradise (18 page)

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Authors: Susan Aylworth

Tags: #romance, #interracial romance, #love story, #clean romance, #native american culture, #debbie macomber, #wholesome romance

BOOK: A Rainbow in Paradise
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More guests arrived, and there was some
confusion while the new arrivals and some of the earlier guests
took turns eating lunch, more fresh lamb and a few simple vegetable
dishes. Eden noted that some women continued the mixing the whole
time, replacing one another at the mixing pans. Only Celia and her
grandmother-mentor, her “ideal woman'' never left the mixing. Soon
Ella declared the batter mixed and the women began working the
now-cooled batter with freshly scrubbed fingers, working out any
lumps they might find, while Albert Redhorse cleaned the
firepit.

Rosa entered with a kettle of water in which
bundles of cornhusks were soaking. "Those husks were saved from
last year's corn crop," Logan whispered as Rosa and Esther began
the process of straightening cornhusks. Then Ella declared the
batter finished and the women left the stirring, allowing the
batter to "ferment."

It was then that the women began making
ceremonial crosses of the cornhusks. Eden found the process
fascinating. Each cross was made of four husks, laid out with the
tip of one parallel to the wide end of the other. These were
crossed by two others and the intersecting sections were stitched.
A second cross was made in the same way.

Much of the day had passed and the shadows
were already lengthening when Ella knelt at the north end of the
firepit and began preparing it for the
'alkaan
. It was a
complicated process involving cleaning out the fire, cleansing the
pit and lining it first with paper, then with one of the cornhusk
crosses—presented, Logan told Eden, in a "blessing manner"—and
finally lining the whole pit with cornhusks.

Eden worked with the other women as they
cooperated to carry eleven large pans full of batter to the pit
where Frank Manypersons led the men in carefully pouring the batter
onto the prepared husks. As the batter overflowed the space created
for it, the women added cornhusk, lining the side of the pit until
finally the pouring was complete. Then everyone joined in the
ritual of adding the raisins onto the corn cake. Finally Ella took
the remaining bit of ground meal from her ceremonial basket and
blessed the batter. Then the women helped her cover the finished
'alkaan
with another layer of cornhusks, finishing it off
with the blessing cross.

Over the
'alkaan
and the cornhusk
layer, the watchers layered on more paper, then fresh, moist earth
and a layer of live coals, topping it all with chips of wood, which
immediately burst into flame. With the
'alkaan
now safely
cooking, Celia began her evening run, followed by a small crowd of
the little children, and a boy from the remaining children was
selected to walk to the opposite side of the wash to bring back a
four-inch piece of cut "soapweed," or yucca root and some
rocks.

Celia and the boy returned at about the same
time. A late supper was served and the men filled the
'alkaan
pit with the dirt that remained piled around it. It
was well after dark when the men built a bonfire, which Logan told
her would be kept burning throughout the night.

"They're getting ready to put the ceremonial
blanket over the door of the hogan," he said. "This is the
Biji
, or special night, so once the singing begins, no one
will be allowed to leave. Are you ready to go in?"

"Yes," she said, adding, "Logan, thank you
for bringing me."

"Are you really enjoying this?" he asked.

She nodded. "More than I imagined. There's so
much warmth here, so much sense of community. And everyone has been
so kind. Even your grandmother."

"I know. She surprised me, too. But I think
you really impressed her when you climbed into the pit and started
helping."

"It seemed like the thing to do." Eden warned
at his approval.

"You certainly impressed me," he said, and
the look in his eyes was enigmatic. "Come. Let's go inside for the
singing." He took her hand and led her into his grandmother's
hogan.

Chapter Nine

Logan sat beside Eden in the
crowded hogan, filled with awe. She was singing—in Navajo! She had
been singing most of the night. He knew she did not recognize the
words she sang, yet she had paid close attention and had learned
the syllables of repeating refrains in the various Blessingway
songs. Sometimes she whispered quietly to him, asking for
translations of the words and ideas, and he did his best in
rendering them. Now Eden was participating as fully as most of the
Dineh
women.

The "special" or
Biji
night had not
really started until the other singers arrived. Then, with the
arrival of Freddie Nez and Johnny Bitsilly, the women had served a
light meal of mutton, fry bread, and coffee while others brought in
small items they would need for the night's ceremonies.

Throughout that long first round of singing,
Eden had stayed brightly alert and wide awake beside him, drinking
in the details of the eons-old ceremony that surged around them in
a combination of modern mirth and ancient solemnity. His mind
quelled with awe as he watched her first mouthing and then singing
the sacred words, and his heart swelled with tenderness toward her
when the pouch of blessed corn pollen was passed "in a sacred
manner," and Eden reverently passed it on, as though she deemed
herself unworthy to partake.

Clearly, he had underestimated this
belagaana
.

It had been both a surprise and a delight to
him to watch her yesterday as she grabbed a shovel and joined his
grandmother in preparing the
'alkaan
pit, and it had been
even more satisfying to watch his grandmother's changing
attitude.

So occupied in her role as "ideal woman" that
she had barely looked up when they first came in, Ella Redhorse had
turned toward Eden minutes later with a look so full of suspicion
and abject disdain that Logan had been grateful Eden's head was
turned. Later, when Eden had begun to dig the pit, Ella had jerked
around in sharp surprise, and it had amazed Logan that she had said
nothing, but had accepted Eden's help. Still later, when it had
come time for the first cleansing of the jewelry and Eden had
presented Celia with her beautiful and thoughtful gift, Ella had
looked toward Eden with grudging respect and approval. Later, as
they finished the first round of singing, his grandmother had
watched them together, quietly assessing. He wondered what she saw
when she looked at them now.

With Frank Manypersons' declaration,
"
K'ad
ni
" ("It is finished"), Celia had risen and
quietly left the hogan, ending the first round of singing so that
others were free to rise and move about, or even leave the hogan if
they wished. Eden had gone out with the other women. When she had
returned a short while later, she was chatting amiably with Esther
and her sister, Rosa. That had astonished him almost as much as her
digging, and it pleased him more than he could say. He was
delighted that she was earning the respect of his family, but their
respect had forced him to reassess his own.

What did you expect
? he asked himself
warily, and he was ashamed for he feared he knew the answer.

He knew his grandmother had been wrong about
her. Eden was not like other
belagaana
s who laughed behind
their hands at his people. Yet, as he watched his grandmother
preparing the soapweed for Celia's final cleansing, he knew he had
not really expected much better than his grandmother had. He had
not invited Eden to the
kinaalda
because, in his heart of
hearts, he had feared she would be like some he had known who
outwardly professed respect for his traditions, then in the same
breath spoke of "quaint native ways" or used "primitive" and
"civilized" to contrast the customs of his people with their own.
Thank goodness for the wisdom of his fourteen-year-old sister who
had seen more than he had.

Logan turned his attention to Celia and his
heart swelled with pride in the little sister he hardly knew. She
was completing the final cleansing ceremony that would make her a
fit wife for a man of the People. In an older generation, Celia's
marriage would likely have been arranged by the time she reached
this point, and he suddenly felt grateful that some of the
traditions of his people had changed. It was a blessing that Celia
would have time to grow before she took on all the responsibilities
of womanhood.

He and Eden joined in for the
Yikai
yischii yisin
, “The Song of the Birth of Dawn," while Celia
carefully washed her hands and face and his grandmother rinsed
Celia's freshly scrubbed hair with clear water and squeezed it dry,
preparing her for the final dawn run.

Thank you, Celia
, Logan acknowledged
quietly.
Had it not been for your charity, I would never have
known Eden as I do now.
He failed to wonder if that was a good
thing, or just another way of breaking his heart.

A few of the smaller children, who had fallen
asleep during the night's singing, were awakened to run with Celia
as she raced into the gathering dawn. While she was gone, some of
the women removed the sudsy water and prepared for the day. Ella
Redhorse took a place near a small basket and began shaving bits of
a piece of white clay into it, preparing for the
dleesh
, or
white clay painting. Logan and Eden joined a group of watchers who
went to the firepit to uncover the
'alkaan
.

As the guests stood about commenting on the
readiness and consistency of the huge corn cake, someone mentioned
that the pollen needed to be readied for the next pollen blessing,
which would take place when Celia returned.

"Will it be all right if I take the pollen,
too?" Eden asked Logan. An expectant hush fell over the group as
Logan turned to Frank Manypersons for the answer. The singer
paused, appearing to consider and then gave a single, solemn nod,
as the group responded with murmurs of general approval.

"Come," Logan told her. "Let's step aside so
I can show you how to take the pollen in a sacred manner."

"I've been watching," Eden answered. "I think
I can do it."

"Show me," he said, and she did, pantomiming
the motions. Again Logan felt his chest fill with pride—and
sadness. This woman was so much of what he had looked for, had
longed for, yet she could not bridge the past to the future as he
had promised his generations. He still had to let her go, only now
he knew it would be like amputating a part of himself to send this
lovely woman away.

"Yes, you have it right," he whispered,
barely containing the emotion in his voice.
Oh, Eden, my
paradise, you have so much of it right.

The watchers called out that the runners were
returning and the guests reassembled in the hogan for more singing
and the final pollen blessing. Logan could not remember a blessing
that had held such meaning for him. His hands shook slightly as he
held the pouch for Eden. He remembered his grandmother once telling
him that any ceremony meant more when you conducted it for one whom
you loved.
And I love her
, he acknowledged, if only to
himself, as he watched her take the pollen in a sacred manner and
pass it on to bless the next of the guests.

When the singing and blessing were concluded,
the watchers all filed outside to the firepit where the corn cake
was swept off with a broom of greasewood twigs, then cut by Celia
and her mother and grandmother according to a prescribed pattern, a
long strip being taken off the eastern side and cut into portions,
then distributed among the crowd. Most of the
'alkaan
was
left to cool while the group ate a meal of fry bread, corn mush,
and the small pieces of
'alkaan
the
kinaalda
had
served them.

During this meal was the only time the old
habit of segregating the men and women during feasting was
observed, and he felt sadness at their separation when Eden left
him to eat with the other women, yet he did not worry about casting
the
belagaana
among strangers. Already Rosa and Esther were
treating Eden as if she were one of them. He shook his head again
in amazement, stunned all over again by how much she seemed like
one of the People, almost as if she had been born to his traditions
as much as he had.

The meal ended and people began to gather in
the hogan. "What now?" Eden asked as she joined him. He had
expected wariness, or, after their near-sleepless night, at least
weariness, but Eden still looked as fresh as she had the morning
before. Her hair draped about her face with an easy, natural swing
and her eyes were bright and untouched from their hours of watching
vigil. She had never looked lovelier.

Tenderness welled as he took her hand. "It's
time for the painting," he answered.

"
Ah, the
dleesh."

"How did you know that?" he asked. He thought
of the way she had spoken to the snake at White House and wondered
again if this woman had some supernatural power.

"Rosa told me," she answered sensibly, and
settled beside him.

Instantly he felt foolish, but even more so
when he could not quite banish the sensation that there was
something of the otherworld about Eden.

Frank Manypersons started the first of two
Combing Songs while Ella began brushing Celia's hair. Then, at the
conclusion of the brushing and the requisite singing, Frank began
the White Clay Song, the
Dleesh
bighiin
. Quietly,
Logan whispered translations of some of the words:

"The white clay of old age. With the white
clay, she nears you." By the time he had finished the first
repetition, Eden was singing with him.

The music changed, and Logan whispered, "Now
the child of White Shell Woman, with the white clay she nears you.
In the center of the White Shell House, with the white clay she
nears you. On the even white shell floor covering, with the white
clay she nears you. On the smooth floor covering of soft fabrics,
with the white clay she nears you."

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