Tracie Peterson - Dawns Prelude

All along the road, native women sat by their wares, ready to do business. Zerelda stopped the wagon before one such woman whose chubby toddler sat at her side, happily chewing a piece of leather hide.

Zerelda got down and squatted beside the woman. Lydia watched as they talked for several minutes. The woman nodded enthusiastically and showed Zerelda several baskets. Her aunt motioned, and Lydia climbed down to join them.

She has some lovely basket work. One of the larger ones would serve well for a baby bed. At least to begin with."

Lydia examined the workmanship and was notably impressed. The basket was as lovely as anything she'd ever seen.

"Oaax'oon sitkum," the woman told Zerelda.

"It's a good buy. Figures roughly two dollars." Zerelda got up and went to the cart, where she took up a heavy wool blanket and several other items. She spoke again to the woman and spread out the items on the ground. The woman considered each article. After a while, she and Zerelda seemed to come to an agreement.

Zerelda turned to Lydia. "I've also arranged to have some fish for our supper."

The woman went to a stack of fresh fish. She chose two large ones and wrapped them in newspaper. When she returned, Zerelda took up the bundle and nodded. Lydia placed the basket in the wagon and waited while Zerelda concluded her business. This experience was followed with several additional trades with other women until finally all the goods in the wagon were exchanged.

As they prepared to turn the cart for home, one of the Tlingit women rushed out to greet them. She jabbered excitedly about something, but Lydia couldn't understand a single word. Zerelda stopped the cart.

"There's been a new birth. We're invited to come see the baby."

Lydia followed Zerelda inside the darkened house. They were led past several boxlike partitions, used to divide the various family areas. Several families lived together in one long house, Zerelda told her. They were all of one clan.

Against one wall, Lydia could see that someone had adorned the wood with playing cards and handbills. The pieces seemed to hold a place of respect just as the fine oil painting of Charlotte Gray had back in Kansas City.

Zerelda and Lydia were ushered to the farthest side of the room and presented with a young woman, really no more than a girl, breastfeeding her infant. Lydia 's aunt immediately squatted down and began to converse. The girl seemed quite happy to see Zerelda. Apparently they were friends.

Lydia couldn't help hut wonder at the girl's age. She didn't look much older than thirteen or fourteen. She was so tiny and clearly very happy with her baby. The girl spoke rapidly and with such animation that Lydia couldn't help but smile. The entire atmosphere was like a parry. Lydia felt her own baby kick, as if to join in the celebration.

Once Zerelda and Lydia were bid farewell and headed for home, Lydia couldn't help but request an explanation of the situation. That girl seemed much too young to he a mother."

They marry young here. When a girl begins her monthly cycles, it becomes public knowledge. She is isolated for several months in a small building away from the main house. Chastity is highly valued here, so during her time of isolation, she will see no one but the older women and small children. She is taught that she is no longer a child but a woman ready for marriage. With everyone in the village knowing this, suitors will approach her parents to declare interest or the family will simply begin the finalization of contracts already agreed upon."

"How awful. And I thought to escape that kind of thing up here," Lydia said, remembering her own marriage contract.

"At least in their village, it isn't considered the oddity that it is in our world. Still, many of the girls die during childbirth. Their bodies struggle with the changes and the new responsibility of growing a life."

"She seemed happy. Do you think she'll he all right?"

Lerelda smiled. "She told me that the baby is her mother come back to life. The girl's mother died just before her marriage, and when she found herself pregnant almost immediately, the shaman told her that this was a sign of her mother's reincarnation."

And she believed it Lydia asked, amazed at such a thought.

"She did indeed. She is happy that this child has come to her, because it is the return of her mother. She believes her mother will help her now, and she will be strong and brave because of this."

"It seems such a hard life, especially for the women," Lydia said, shaking her head. It was difficult to imagine the little girl mothering a child.

"They manage," Zerelda replied. "They have for hundreds of years, and they will go on despite our presence. The family will help her, and she will he fine."

"I hope I shall manage half so well," Lydia murmured, putting her hand to her growing abdomen. The idea of giving birth frightened her more than she liked to admit.

It wasn't long before Lydia 's condition, both physical and financial, was the talk of the town. Frankly, Lydia would have just as soon been unknown and left alone, but instead, she had become quite popular. People showed up at all hours of the day, especially would-he suitors. They came pleading their affection and desire for marriage. Some suggested the arrangement for convenience to both, while others were more creative. One man begged Lydia to marry him and let the baby he his, as he had suffered mumps as a young man and could not have a child of his own.

Kjell said such proposals were to he expected and Zerelda agreed. They lived in much too isolated a place for Lydia 's presence and situation to go unnoticed. Women were a premium commodity in this part of the world; white women were even more scarce.

"It's hard to imagine they would want to marry me when they don't even know me. I'm a stranger to most of them."

"Yes, but you are a rich stranger," Zerelda mused. "And more important, you are the right gender-a woman."

"A woman great with child," Lydia said, looking at her expanded belly.

"But you won't be that way forever," Zerelda said, laughing. "Men have learned to overlook such things when the other benefits outweigh the concerns. Besides, you're quite pretty."

Lydia had never considered herself such. Floyd had often commented on how much more beautiful his first wife had been and Lydia had always lived in the sad shadow of Charlotte Gray. Charlotte had been beautiful in her youth, with blond hair and blue eyes. Her voluptuous figure gave her a womanly silhouette, whereas Lydia had always been tall and waiflike. Floyd had often complained that she was too skinny Well, that certainly wasn't a problem now.

"Oh look," Zerelda said, gazing out the window. "Kjell has come to visit, and he's brought his guitar." She started toward the door. "It would be so wonderful to have the two of you play together."

"We shall see," Lydia said, not wanting to promise anything. "I'll put on a pot of coffee." She moved to the kitchen and checked the fire in the stove. Lately her emotions were rattled by his presence. Zerelda had convinced her that Kjell deserved to be accused or merited on his own actions rather than those of Floyd, but Lydia still found it difficult to put aside the mistrust she felt for any man.

"Are you hungry, Kjell?" Zerelda asked as she greeted him. "We could heat up some food."

Kjell shrugged out of his coat and shook his head. "I ate already but thanks."

"I can't tell you how pleased I was to see that you'd brought your guitar. I told Lydia I would love to hear the two of you play together."