Whispering Spirits (8 page)

“What on earth are you doing,
Nah’ah
?”

“I’m so glad you finished your visit with
Nato’sin
. I want to show you how to make a great feast with
duck eggs.”

“You gathered duck eggs? When did you do
that?”

“Didn’t you spot the nest just off the shore
near the reeds?”

Summer couldn’t help being impressed with
Nah’ah
. She missed nothing going on around her. Did she know
they could be in danger? “Why did you dig a hole? Aren’t you going
to scramble them or make an omelet?”
Nah’ah’s
scowl told her
immediately that wasn’t the case.

“Take that bladder and pour some water in
this hole,” she instructed.

Summer didn’t argue. After a quick look
around, she poured a small amount into the cavity. “Now what?”

“See those sticks piled to the side? About
two inches above the water I want you to make a platform with them.
We’ll be putting the eggs on them. Now I want you to dig a small
hole next to mine, but make sure you slant it into the bottom of
the first hole.”

“Really? We’re going through all this work
and you could get the same results if you just boiled them in
water.”

“We’ll see. That looks good. Now after you
put the eggs on the platform I want you to make a tighter platform
above the eggs. Very good,
Niipo
. Now mix some water and
dirt and make mud to cover the top platform.”

Summer wanted to say how ridiculous this
whole thing was, but refrained. “I’ve always loved making mud
patties.” She laughed and noticed
Nah’ah
enjoyed the
comment. Summer couldn’t help feeling bad she’d been cranky and
temperamental.

“Okay, now you can inch those hot campfire
rocks over to the small hole and let them roll down into the water
of the larger hole.”

“I get it. The hot rocks will heat up the
water and steam the eggs. It’s primitive but rather clever. I
didn’t think the old ones ate eggs.”

“This is the only time of year our people eat
fowl eggs. They would never eat turtles, frogs, or lizards because
they are creatures of evil. The Crees, Gros Ventres, Sioux, and
even Assinaboines eat dog, but our people never eat them. We
believe dogs are our true friend.
Napi’kwan
says he is our
friend, but they turn against us. Our dogs are always true.”

“I’m going to have to agree with you on that
one,
Nah’ah
. I hope my ancestors didn’t eat snake.” Summer
shivered from the thought.

“No, they would never eat snake. They would
not eat grasshoppers, worms, or other insects either. I heard
stories that the
napi’kwan
wasn’t much of a hunter and at
times would eat insects and snakes. Most times the white trapper
would be spotted not by sight, but by smell.”

Summer laughed. “You made that up, didn’t
you?”

Nah’ah
shook her head. “No, it is
true. It was said they smelled as bad, and sometimes worse, than
the stinky bear.”

“I have to admit, the smell of cooking eggs
is making my stomach growl. You cook them in the ground like my
grandmother?”

Summer noticed Running Crane attempted to
appear relaxed and cordial. He fell short with both. His continual
scanning of their surroundings seemed somewhat excessive. “You’re a
fan of duck eggs?” Summer asked.

“Only in the spring. They remind me of days
spent with my sister, Pale Star, and my
nah’ah
. I’d give
anything to go back to those days again.”

“Your grandmother was a very good friend of
mine.
Alsoomse
and I shared many stories, heartbreaks and
happiness. I felt great sadness when she went to the Sand Hills. We
chuckled many times how the name independent suited her. Your
grandfather,
Ponoka-mitta
did not mind. Actually we laughed
often how the name ‘Horse’ suited him, too. Sit down by our fire
and join us,
Nato’sin
. You look as nervous as a horse
standing near a rattler.”

Running Crane laughed. “Summer invited me to
eat with you. I was waiting for you to invite me.”

“You do not need to be invited. While we are
here you will share meals with us. I do not expect you to cook for
yourself. Now, once we have finished eating I would like you to
scout around our tipis. I have a strong feeling we are being
watched. That I do expect you to do.”

“Have you seen anyone?” Running Crane took
the plate of steaming eggs from her and scanned the area.

“I have been hearing whispers we are all in
danger. But you are not surprised with this. You both feel it
too.”

Summer stared at
Nah’ah
. “There are a
lot of bad vibes going on here. I’m afraid instead of going where
I’ll be safe, I’ve taken us to a place we’re vulnerable. I’ve put
you in danger,
Nah’ah
. If anything happens to you, I’ll
never forgive myself.”

“Everything in our world is sacred, including
our lives. Each day we thank
Ihtsi-pai-tapi-yopa
.”

“What would the creator say about punishment
for crimes?” Summer never tasted eggs so good.

“There were five crimes which the Blackfeet
considered necessary to deliver punishment. The penalties attached
to them were common knowledge. For murder the rule was a life for a
life. The murderer or his relatives might also make a heavy
payment. Most times this payment took all his property, leaving him
poor.”

“Nothing has changed. If you have money, you
can get away with anything.” Summer set her empty plate on a rock.
What happened if you were found stealing?” Summer could tell
Nah’ah
liked being asked about the old times.

“Theft was simple. The property was returned
and that was the end of it. Adultery on the other hand was not so
simple. The first time a wife cheated on her husband usually
resulted in her nose or an ear being cut off. If there was a second
offense the husband could kill her, have a brother or first cousin
kill her, or he could have the All Comrades do the deed.”

“The All Comrades,
Nah’ah
?” Summer
pulled her knees up and rested her chin against them.

Running Crane cleared his throat. “The
I-kun-uh’-kah-tsi
were directly under the authority of the
head chief. They were like the tribal police force and they would
punish others or whatever the chief deemed necessary to keep peace
and order among the people.”

Summer smiled. “I guess that would have been
your choice if we were in the old days, huh?”

“No doubt about it. My father and the fathers
before them have always been peace keepers. My grandfather talked
about a warrior who was accused of treachery. There was no
forgiveness for a member of our tribe to give aid to an enemy.
Death at sight was the only law.”

“What was the fifth crime,
Nah’ah
?”
She felt Running Crane staring at her and she wondered what he was
thinking.

“Cowardice was taken very seriously in the
times when a man had to be brave and protect his people at camp or
in a war party. If a man would not fight he had to wear a woman’s
dress and was not allowed to marry.”

Summer had her degree in Native American
History and knew the answers, but loved hearing her grandmother
tell it in her own way.
Nah’ah
managed to always add a bit
of information that wasn’t in the books, but was passed down
through the ages in oral history. “Was that it? Weren’t there any
other rules that were punishable?”

“Our people had to rely on each other. It was
never about one person. So if a man went off hunting by himself and
in doing so he drove the game away, he would be sought out and the
All Comrades often whipped him, tore his lodge to shreds, broke his
travois, and took all his store of dried meat, pemmican, and other
food.”

“Doesn’t that seem harsh? He should be able
to provide for his family,” Summer felt the pressure building in
her head. She wished the headaches would stop.

Nah’ah
leaned forward and dropped a
few sticks on the fire. “It had to be harsh for the good of all.
One thing I do see our young girls do, that is most scandalizing is
sitting with their legs crossed in front of them like a man. It is
not lady-like and is…wild. If you sit on the ground with your legs
off to one side you are a woman of respect.”

“I’ll try to remember that,
Nah’ah.
”
Summer chuckled, glad she sat on a log and not the ground.

“Thank you for the delicious eggs,
Nah’ah
. I’ll go do some checking around and then see if I
can get you a deer since, antelope is a bit too gamey.”

“Be careful,
Nato’sin
. I do not have a
good feeling about our uninvited guests.”

Summer glanced right, then left, spotting no
one.

“To be honest, neither do I.” Running Crane
stood, smiled, and headed back up the trail toward his tipi.

“If you’d like to settle down for the night,
I’ll do the dishes and clean up things here.”

“That is nice of you to offer. Good thing you
did, because I was not going to do the cleanup.” She laughed and
slowly got to her feet. “Do not judge Running Crane so harshly. You
were but a child when you knew him. It would be wise to give him a
chance to get to know you…and you to get to know him. Good night,
Niipo
.”

“Good night. I’ll give your suggestion some
thought.” Summer laughed softly and watched
Nah’ah
disappear
into the tipi. For eighty she was agile and spirited. She looked
barely sixty, if that.

“Once you finish washing the dishes, you
should consider washing yourself. Here is something to change
into.”

Summer took the rolled up towel
Nah’ah
handed toward her. “Are you saying I smell?”

“I’m saying you’ll feel better after a
refreshing dip in the cool water. It will help you sleep.”

Summer smiled. “Thank you,
Nah’ah
.”
Once again she disappeared into the tipi.

Having the dishes washed and the campfire
stoked, Summer listened to the hundreds of crickets and various
bull frogs. She walked to the edge of the river and listened to the
rippling water splashing over rocks and logs. It soothed the
pounding in her head. She looked around, then quickly stripped to
the skin, piling her clothes on the end of the log, and sank into
the deep curve of the river.
Nah’ah
had been right, it felt
extremely refreshing. She inched out of the water and toweled
herself dry, then nearly laughing, slipped into a white eyelet sun
dress. So, grandmother seemed to be playing cupid. Summer sat on a
large rock on the shore and dangling her feet into the water.

She closed her eyes and thought about her
relationship with Jordan. What had she missed? How about the fake
eyelash she’d found in the bathroom basket? He’d said it belonged
to Joshua’s girlfriend, who stayed over several times. Once they
decided to split, those little things ceased to be important.

Summer searched her memory…how many times had
she called him when he’d been working late, and he didn’t answer?
He always had an excuse. Late dinner with the guys from the office,
meetings with supporters, and the list went on and on. She’d
believed him every time.

Why did he always seem to have a relationship
with Joshua, even though he said he didn’t? Weren’t there times
she’d call Jordan and thought she heard Joshua in the background?
Jordan always denied it. Wasn’t it a week before his murder, she’d
been waiting for him at his apartment? Tired of waiting for him,
she went to Dukes Bar around the corner. Hadn’t she seen Jordan
with Ali? That was it! Summer did see them together…he denied
it…but now she was certain of it.

How long after that did Dee say she saw the
two of them together at Duddley’s Bar? Barely a month before he was
murdered? Maybe Ali wasn’t Joshua’s girlfriend after all. It hurt
to know, even though they had decided to just be friends. He could
have been honest.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to intrude on your
sorrow…but I really want to talk to you.”

She quickly wiped the moisture from her skin.
“You’re not interrupting my sorrow, Running Crane. You’re
interrupting my accountability of what a fool I’ve been.” She
slipped from the rock and walked to the grassy hill to where he
stood. She sat and wiped her feet dry, then pulled on simple, white
flats. “I never realized Jordan was cheating on me. I believed his
every lie. We haven’t been a couple for months, just friends.
Looking at it from a distance…I can’t believe what a fool I’d
been.”

He sat down beside her. “It’s hard to see
what we don’t want to see. I’ve been there myself. It doesn’t make
us fools, it just makes us trusting and vulnerable.”

“You’ve been cheated on?” She looked at him,
wondering why she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was before. He’d
been blessed with all the best Native features possible. Like many
Native men, his hair hung in two, long braids, the bottoms wrapped
in sacred red strips. If he was dressed right now in Native
clothes, he’d fit in any pictures of the eighteen hundreds, even
earlier. A thin, white, leather string held a single bear claw. She
wondered if he killed it himself. She wouldn’t doubt it.

“Either you’re impressed with my bear claw or
appalled.”

She smiled and looked into his deep, dark
eyes and it seemed they drew her into them…refusing to let her go.
She blinked, then said, “I was just wondering if you killed the
bear it came from.”

“No, this,” he held it up for her inspection,
“is a sacred animal helper claw that has been passed down for ages.
I’m not too sure how old it is. My father wore it until last year,
when he gave it to me. He gave me the middle claw, one on each side
of this one he gave to each of my brothers, Terry and Lewis. How
come you haven’t asked me about Terry?”

“What’s to ask? I understand he’s married and
has two sons. I’m happy for him. We were never meant to be
together. He wanted…nothing more than to stay on the res and live
the simple life. He had no aspirations to improve himself or his
people. Maybe he’s changed.” Summer watched Running Crane think
over her comment before responding. It was a quality she loved
about her people. Something she long forgot…and would work on
changing. One should always think before speaking.