Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

She drank and washed her hands and face a last time in a rainwater hole the dogs hadn’t muddied. Before she set out again, she peeked at the Mexican cards in their pouch: she was happy and relieved to find La Estrella, the Star, on top of the deck. The stars were celestial beings, all related to the most beautiful and beloved star, the morning star. She never forgot the devotion in her homeland to the Shining One the Christians call Messiah.

Indigo was too excited to sit still. She opened the hatbox to give the orchid plants sunshine after the first night on the train, just as Edward suggested. Hattie said they were among the nicest plants he had. She must remember to give them morning sun but not too much water or they would rot. She checked to make sure the paper envelopes of seeds were still neatly tied so none spilled, and felt each little cotton sack of gladiolus corms to make sure they were still dry in the bottom of the valise.

Hours before the train approached Needles, she cleaned the monkey’s cage as she promised she would if Edward allowed her to bring Linnaeus along. She put down clean newspaper she saved after Edward finished reading it.

Out the window she saw the jagged dry peaks of the Paiute mountains hazy blue in the distance across the gravel and sand of the plain. As the sun got lower in the sky and they got closer, the mountains changed colors — light blue to violet to fiery red-orange as lovely as any flowers. Then as twilight settled over them, the fiery reds shifted to bright pinks that settled into lavender and finally dark purple. The window in the compartment was open only a bit but Indigo put her face to the rushing air and was delighted to smell the greasewood and the rocks.

It was not dark yet when the conductor called out, “Needles.” Indigo felt her stomach flutter and her heart beat faster. As the train pulled into the station, she saw the station lanterns were lit along the platform, where eastbound passengers and people meeting the train were gathered. She dreamed and imagined many times Mama and Sister Salt would be there in their place on the platform beside the Walapai and Mojave women.

She was so excited she could hardly wait. Even before the train jerked to a stop, Indigo was ready; the cover of the parrot cage was on and Linnaeus was in her arms, his cage left with the other luggage. She walked ahead of Hattie and Edward, but the other passengers swept around her and she had to hold the covered parrot cage tightly in both arms to keep hold of it. Hidden inside, Rainbow endured the bumps and noise in silence while Linnaeus clung to her piggyback with his eyes hidden against her shoulder. Here she was at last! The smells of the burnt coal, tar, and hot axle grease of the platform were just as she remembered from years ago. As the crowd of passengers and others began to clear the platform, her heart pounded with anticipation. She had dreamed about this moment so many times — how Mama and Sister Salt would be shocked, and then come running to greet her.

She stopped until the surge of people passed around her, and lifted the cage cover a bit to give Rainbow fresh air. She heard Hattie call out to ask if she was all right, but she was intent on the end of the platform blocked by the crowd. But as the platform cleared, she saw that the place near the station door where Mama and Sister Salt used to sit was empty.

As she looked up and down the long empty platform, the burning ache in her throat hurt so much when Hattie reached her, she was in tears. Her sobs frightened the monkey, who gripped her neck tighter until she had to set the parrot cage down on the platform and take him in her arms. They were gone, they were all gone, and now she’d never find Sister or Mama.

At the hotel, Hattie tried to reassure Indigo as she helped her pull the bedding onto the floor the way the child liked it. At dinner Indigo refused to eat or drink anything; then as the meal was over, she insisted that the food on her plate be wrapped to take back to Linnaeus and the parrot. Edward, annoyed at her insolence, attempted to correct her but the child shocked them by telling him to go to hell, then refused to speak at all.

Hattie had anticipated a joyous arrival and expected Indigo to be in good spirits now she was in her homeland. The return of the child to her family had become the primary focus of Hattie’s attention, especially now that she and Edward agreed to separate. She realized she loved Indigo dearly — Edward’s deception and all the rest did not matter so long as she secured Indigo’s happiness.

Hattie again promised they would not leave the Colorado River until her sister and her mother both were found. But the child was inconsolable; tears rolled down her cheeks even as she arranged the parrot cage and monkey cage on either side of the bedding on the floor so she could touch them during the night.

In the adjoining room, Edward was at the table by the lamp, reading. He marked his place with a slip of paper before he closed the book and looked up with a smile. Now that they had agreed to live separately, the tension between them was gone. Tomorrow Edward would take the train to Winslow for the buggy ride to the meteor crater while she and Indigo would begin the search for her sister and mother.

In Riverside they agreed neither of them was suited to the married state, and left it at that. No further mention was made of his reckless deception or his unforgivable defense of the Australian doctor. The child seemed to be calmed now, no need for concern. They said good night and Edward turned back to his reading as she closed the door.

She was still saddened Edward seemed so relieved by their decision; she must have only imagined Edward’s devotion to her just as she misread Mr. Hyslop’s attentions. In any case, she would not make that mistake again. Before they left Riverside, she wrote to her parents to announce the mutual decision to obtain a legal separation as soon as possible, but gave no explanation. They were bound to hear all the details from Susan and Colin.

She agreed to a generous separation settlement and made arrangements with her bankers in New York to arrange a line of credit for Edward until his mother’s estate and his debts were settled. She had no plans beyond the immediate goal of finding Indigo’s sister and mother, but she did not want to return to New York. Oyster Bay belonged to a previous life, dead and buried with her manuscript.

Perhaps she would return to England or Italy — she dreamed about the gardens often. Aunt Bronwyn’s old stones danced in one of her dreams, and in another dream, Laura’s figures of the snake and bird women sang a song so lovely she woke in tears.

♦ ♦ ♦

The wagon road above the riverbank was dusty and hot. The footpaths through the willows along the river were shady and cool, Indigo told Linnaeus and Rainbow. The buggy had a cloth top but it was black and held the heat. She amused herself by pointing out places along the river and telling Linnaeus and Rainbow about the escape she and Sister made downriver the morning the dancers were attacked.

She felt more hopeful today because, the night before, she dreamed she was with Sister Salt at the old gardens, which were filled with great tall spikes of gladiolus flowers in all colors of the rainbow. Sister Salt cradled Linnaeus like a baby and Mama let the parrot sit on her shoulder; even Hattie was in the dream — she carried water from the spring in a big gourd balanced on her head.

As they drove out of town, Indigo watched people on the street point and stare at the empty monkey cage on top of the pile of luggage, and Linnaeus in her arms. The sandy hills were green with grass and weeds — a sign of good rain weeks before, and good news for the terrace gardens in the dunes. The corn plants would be tall, the amaranth thick, and the bean plants and sunflowers fat with seeds enough to see them through the winter. She had forgotten how big the sky was and how blue it could be when there were no clouds. Sand Lizard girl, you are almost home now, she whispered to herself.