Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

Hattie was showing Indigo her scrapbooks of her dried pressed daisies and roses when Mother knocked; before Hattie could reply, the door opened and in came Mother and Susan James. Indigo pulled the bedcovers over her head. They pretended they wanted to visit with Hattie, but she could tell they were curious about Indigo, who remained hidden.

While Susan James talked about her garden renovations, Hattie watched Mother’s hand move playfully along the edge of Indigo’s bed in an attempt to coax her out; but Indigo refused to budge. Then the attention of the two women turned to Hattie.

“Hattie, you look so thin! We thought by now we might be seeing a ‘change,’ ” Susan said sweetly. Hattie’s laughter surprised both women. Children were a subject for the future, she told them. She understood the source of Susan’s curiosity: Susan’s two daughters would receive smaller sums under the terms of the family trust if Edward and Hattie had children.

At last Susan said good night and Mrs. Abbott leaned over to give Hattie a little hug. It was wonderful to have her home again, Mrs. Abbott said as she followed Susan out the door. Susan’s jaw was firmly set and Hattie realized her sister-in-law disliked her. When they were gone, Hattie told Indigo it was safe to come out, but she was asleep with the covers over her head. Hattie pulled back the covers so Indigo could breathe properly, then put out the light.

Edward was sitting up in bed reading a citrus horticulture book when Hattie joined him. She unpacked a nightgown. He laid the open book facedown on the bed and rubbed both eyes.

“Home again, home again—”

“—Jiggety-jig!” Hattie said with a smile.

They agreed Hattie should sleep in the spare bed in the room with Indigo in case she woke in the night and became disoriented or frightened. He put a robe over his nightshirt and walked Hattie down the hall with an arm gently around her shoulders.

♦ ♦ ♦

Just before dawn, Indigo woke to the noisy chirping of dozens of blackbirds in the huge tree outside the window. The big flock reminded her of all the crows that suddenly appeared before the dancers and the Messiah arrived at their camp by the river at Needles. The blackbirds, though only half the size of the crows, were handsome birds with bright yellow beaks and feet. They watched her look out the window at them and she realized they came to greet her and welcome her.

Hattie snored softly in the bed next to hers; Indigo lay on her side in the bed and watched Hattie for a while, but then she had to urinate. The bathroom was a short distance down the hall but she didn’t want anyone to see her in bed clothes or a robe, so she got dressed. She tiptoed down the hall and held her breath as she turned the knob on the bathroom door, hoping it would not make a loud noise. She used the toilet but did not pull the chain because of the loud gushing sound the water made; she scooted the little step up to the lavatory and carefully washed her face and hands. She rebraided her hair and retied the ribbons as best she could, then took a final look at herself in the mirror.

“Hello, how do you do, fine thank you, a pleasure to meet you,” she said to the image in the mirror. She had to laugh at her dark Sand Lizard face in the gilded oval mirror; now a Sand Lizard girl was loose in the white people’s world.

She crept down the stairs to the big front doors with the polished brass latches and studied the mechanism; yesterday the doors opened without a sound. She tried the left latch first but it refused to move; but when she pressed down with all her might, the mechanism of the right latch lifted smoothly and the big door glided open. Once outside, she did not close the door for fear of noise. She inhaled the fragrance of the damp morning air delicious enough to eat: in the distance she could smell tasseled corn plants, squash blossoms, and the flowering beans and peas.

The dawn flooded the porch with golden green light that lifted her as she stepped into its radiance and pulled her toward it. She bounded down the front steps and felt the dampness of the grass through her slippers. She ran into the light pouring between the giant trees near the house along the vast lawns. To run and run over the soft earth while breathing the golden fresh air felt glorious.

She slowed to a walk under the great trees so she could examine them more closely; little mushroom caps dotted the ground under the trees and when she picked one and held it up close, tiny dewdrops glistened in the light. She popped it in her mouth and it tasted as fresh as the earth and the air. She searched for more mushrooms under the trees until her hunger was satisfied. She caught wind of the ocean smell — sharp green and restless; the wind was so cool she started off again.

It was easy walking under the giant trees because there were no rocks or gullies to watch out for; even the bushes of wild roses she had to sniff, and the thickets of fragrant azaleas — yellows, pinks, and whites — were just far enough from the path she need not worry about snagging her dress. At regular intervals the path through the trees opened into little clearings in bloom with blue-and-purple iris scattered with bright gold and bright white narcissus. She could feel the ocean’s dampness though she still could not see it. The path went up a slight incline and then suddenly she stepped out of the trees into the brilliant morning light reflected off the bay below. Now she could see the road they’d taken along the edge of the bay, and lesser roads or driveways leading up from the beach and back into the big trees and meadows. As she made her way down from the hill, she came across what appeared to be an old stone wall fallen over in the thick beach grass and sand. Someone had lived there long ago, long before the roads or the driveways; she felt the gentle presence of the spirits of the place in the breeze off the water.

Edward was up before the others for an early breakfast with his sister and brother-in-law before Colin left for his office in the city. He found the front door ajar but assumed Lucille or one of the maids neglected to latch it properly. An old cow trail through the great oaks connected the two properties; he was surprised to see a gray flagstone path replaced the muddy trail. Along the path, clumps of purple foxglove and bright blue delphiniums were edged with lilies of the valley; this was the work of his sister and her new passion for English landscape gardens.

At dinner the evening before, Susan talked of nothing else but the progress of the workmen renovating the Italian-style gardens. Edward thought the word “demolition” seemed more appropriate — he was fond of the Renaissance-style gardens planted when the house was built. It seemed a pity because the trees and hedges had reached full maturity only recently. The sounds of the steel picks and shovels against earth and stone could be heard from beyond the blue garden, which itself was undergoing its annual preparations for the ball. Susan did not want her guests to see the same plants as the year before; she relished the challenge of creating new and startling effects with bedding plants and even shrubs and vines selected for their particular shade of blue; the white-flowering plants and shrubs were chosen for their impact in the moonlight. White blossoms took on the silvery blue of the moon, while the blue blossoms were transformed to a luminous cobalt blue.

The flagstone path emerged from the trees to cross a small stone footbridge over a rill of gushing water; six stone steps led up to the blue garden terrace with its pool and fountain. He paused to admire the tropical water lilies that were his sister’s pride. They required special care in the winter, in tubs in the glass house. No matter how clever the plantings of blue flowers or white, the water lily pool was the heart of the blue garden. The huge night-blooming Victoria lily dominated the center of the pool with perfumed white blossoms as big as teapots; it was early enough that the flowers were still open, crowding the smaller blue water lilies that required full sun to blossom.