Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

The fourth dawn Messiah came.

They stopped dancing around midnight, and stood around the big kettle to share cups of hot tea made with sweet grass and little mountaintop herbs. Although they danced for hours, no one seemed tired, especially not the older women and men, who talked excitedly about their dear ones they hoped to visit on the fourth night. A Mojave man passed around a big basket of goat jerky and a Walapai woman passed a basket of roasted blue cornmeal; then they returned to their lean-tos and tents to sleep.

The girls all piled together under the old quilts and all the blankets, which they moved toward Indigo’s corner so they could keep Hattie and the parrot and monkey warm.

Midmorning the sun pushed through the clouds briefly and fog clung to the riverbed and drifted near their camp. Later, most of the snow melted, but by early afternoon the wind brought low gray clouds, and before sundown, sleet mixed with snow whipped against the shacks and tents.

Hattie slept like the dead for hours on end; after the wind came up, she woke. She was weak but the pain in her head was not so sharp as before. She drank roasted blue corn flour in water and went to sleep again.

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The storm clouds moved on; the afternoon was sunny and mild, so Indigo took Linnaeus and Rainbow for a walk along the riverbank to browse on the fat seed heads of rice grass and to dig cattail roots. The crows in the cottonwoods scolded as they passed by, so Rainbow fluffed his feathers and flexed his wings to appear larger to discourage attacks. He gripped her shoulder firmly and pressed close to Indigo’s head, and did not reach for the monkey’s tail as he often did.

Indigo stopped to look up at the crows. Their glittering black eyes were merry as they tussled and hopped along the branches. What did they know about the Messiah and the others? Would Mama return with them tonight?

The sound of her voice silenced the frolicking crows; the silence lasted for as long as she looked up at the crows until finally Linnaeus tugged at her dress, impatient to dig roots in the shallows of the river.

The crows’ silence left Indigo discouraged even after they gathered a fine load of seeds and roots for Rainbow and Linnaeus on their journey downriver tomorrow. As she neared the lean-to, she was heartened to see Hattie, a blanket around her shoulders, outside in the sun with Maytha and Vedna. Sister Salt was on a blanket, helping the little grandfather stand up in the little moccasins their Paiute friend gave him.

They watched the baby as he cautiously took a step and then another around his mother while he gripped her hands for support. Sister confided to Indigo his desire to walk so young was another sign he was the old grandfather’s soul returned.

The girls took turns walking the perimeter of the campsite every morning to check for signs the townspeople were spying on the gathering. Sister Salt worried someone would come looking for Hattie and make trouble, but no one came. After the first night, they found four sets of boot prints at the edge of a willow grove; but after the second night they found no trace of spies. Their gathering was too small to concern the white people of Needles.

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The sky was clear and the stars’ light reflected off the sandhills with patches of snow on the third night. The waning moon did not rise until after midnight, but suddenly the night became so bright the willows along the riverbank and the sandy hillside were clearly visible in a pale blue silver light. Freezing air descended from the mountains, and ribbons of steam rose around the dancers’ heads as they sang.

I saw my slain sister, Buffalo.

I saw my slain brother, Condor.

Don’t cry, they told me.

Don’t cry.

A dancer sank to her knees moaning, then lay flat to embrace the ground; her companions pulled her shawl up to keep her warm while she visited with her dear ones. They stepped over her and the others who fell to the ground twitching and babbling, and kept dancing as the starry bridge of the Milky Way arched over them.

The dancers stood near the fires to keep warm as they rested before the last song; Indigo went with Sister to the lean-to to check on the baby and to see if Hattie and the pets were keeping warm. They all were asleep and snugly covered; Sister put a small piece of wood on the fire outside and they returned to join in the final round of songs.

As they sang and danced the circle, Indigo lifted her eyes to the high sandy hill above the river to the northwest, and sang with all her heart for Mama to come. Just as the morning star rose above the mountain horizon, Indigo felt her sister’s grip on her hand tighten before Sister Salt sank to the sand and lay crying softly and moaning. Indigo felt her heart pound with the drum until she was enclosed by the sound that shook the ground under her feet. Now the Messiah and his followers were near, prepared to come bless the dancers on the last night. She held on to the twins’ hands even tighter to keep her balance on the pulsating earth.

Winds dance

In the green grass.

Winds dance

In the yellow flowers.

They covered Sister Salt with a blanket while she lay motionless on the ground, and later helped her back to the lean-to to sleep. Visits left the dancers exhausted.

Indigo had difficulty getting to sleep and wanted to be up early when Sister woke to feed the little grandfather. If it was Grandma Fleet who visited Sister last night, did she have any news about Mama? It was still dark when she woke and heard the others snoring; outside a crack between the wood and tin, dawn was approaching behind low foggy clouds. Faintly, in the distance, she heard beautiful singing and realized the singing she heard was not from the encampment — all the dancers were asleep. The sound was in the distance but closer now. Careful not to wake anyone, Indigo took her shawl and stepped outside before she wrapped herself against the freezing air. On the high sandy hill she thought she saw some movement in the mist and fog.

As she began to climb up the deep sand of the slope, the fog and mist swirled down to meet her; now the singing was near and very beautiful — a song in the Sand Lizard language she’d never heard before.

Dance, little clouds, your sisters are fog!

Dance, little clouds, your brothers are mist!

Play in the wind! Play in the wind!

Mama was rocking her — she was so snug and warm. What a happy, beautiful song! Mama kissed her and held her so close.

Indigo woke in her bed and saw it was still dark. She felt so much love she wept; she knew then where Mama was and always would be. Dance, little clouds, dance! Play in the wind!

For an instant Hattie did not know where she was, then she heard the drum and the voices. Outside the soft yellow glow must be the approach of dawn; the lemon yellow light was the same color as the lost carnelian carved with the waterbirds. The crushing pain was gone and her head felt clear; all her senses were alert for the first time since the assault. Dawn was the time the Messiah and his family were expected to come. She wanted to see for herself.

In the soft light she could make out the sleeping baby, the quilt carefully tucked around him; the parrot and monkey both were awake in their cages and watched her put on her shoes. As she approached the blanket over the lean-to entrance, the light outside became brighter and more luminous — she recognized it at once and felt a thrill sweep over her. How soothing the light was, how joyously serene she felt.

She lost all sense of time and of how long she stood at the entrance, the luminous glow streaming in all around the edges of the blanket. She was too awed to step outside to face it.

The girls were surprised to find Hattie up when they returned to the lean-to after midnight. She told them how she woke feeling so much better and then noticed the beautiful glow outside the lean-to, so much like the strange light she saw before.