Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

Indigo turned away before Edward spotted her and asked her to pose next to the wagon. She didn’t like to have the camera’s big glass eye focused on her. The arms of many of the women statues were flung upward in fear, or maybe that was to show off their breasts to men. The statues of men appeared more calm, looking away as if they did not yet realize the destination of the wagon.

She sat at the edge of the big water lily pool to admire the fragrant sky blue flowers on long stems at the edge of the white lilies; the blue flowers stood above the water’s surface in row after row like soldiers.

Edward set up the tripod and camera on the lemon garden terrace; terrace and garden both were spared only because of their connection with the blue garden. The Italian gardens were so intimate and refined, so secure from intrusion. Why bother with an English landscape garden when the wooded hills of the island were quite lovely themselves? He wondered if his sister realized how fickle garden fashion was; the so-called English garden was already passé.

He tried a number of different views of the balustrade and terrace before he realized he needed a human figure in his composition to reveal the Renaissance garden’s elegant scale. He almost overlooked her by the pool but he called Indigo to come stand by the life-size lead figures of a stag pursued by hounds.

Indigo came reluctantly, taking small steps and watching her feet move across the ground. She did not like to stand still for so long facing into the bright sun. She didn’t care what he said about keeping her eyes open; she didn’t like to see the big glassy eye of the camera staring at her. He told her the photograph was ruined if her eyes were closed; when she asked why, he did not answer. After the third plate was exposed, Indigo asked if they might go look at Susan’s birds in the aviaries. Hattie was still resting upstairs and Mrs. Abbott was next door.

Edward was annoyed the child would not cooperate when he asked her to pose. He told her he was busy with the camera, to go herself but to find Susan to ask permission first. He was absorbed in making the photographs and gave no further thought to the whereabouts of the child.

Indigo was not comfortable with Susan, but the green parrot was the most beautiful bird she had ever seen and worth the risk of embarrassment. First Indigo went to the two beech trees, where the earth was still damp and bare from the transplanting. Their leaves were beginning to lift themselves and perk up as they settled into their new home. Indigo thought she heard voices farther up the path to the wild cherry grove, but there was no one, only the breeze sweeping fallen petals over the grass. Indigo was relieved not to find Susan, though now she would have to wait until Hattie could take her to see the parrot.

In the center of the grove was a white marble bench; Indigo stretched herself out on the coolness of the polished marble to watch the sky through the leaves and wild cherry blossoms while she listened to the hum of the bees. Maybe it was the bees she heard, and not voices; as she watched the clouds move above the fluttering petals, she drifted off to sleep. When she woke, she heard voices nearby so she did not sit up. She remained flat on the bench with her head turned to one side and watched Susan and the Scottish gardener follow the path into the forest away from the bustle of the workmen.

Indigo watched as Susan picked a lily of the valley and gave it to the gardener, who did a most amazing thing: he kissed Susan on the lips. Indigo took a deep breath as her heart beat faster. She knew Colin was Susan’s husband, not the gardener, and she knew the laws of white people: men and women don’t touch unless they are husband and wife. That’s what the dormitory matrons and boarding school teachers emphasized again and again; girls stay out of one another’s beds, and the boys too.

Indigo followed them at a distance, and within the cover of the woods Susan’s behavior became more animated — she broke off a white flowering twig of wild cherry and waved it in the gardener’s face. He promptly seized hold of her arm and pulled her close to him in a long embrace with his bearded face covering hers. How interesting to watch what it was white women and men did alone with each other. Sister Salt said some white people preferred to keep their clothes on but used special openings in their pants for such purposes. Susan and the gardener took off all their clothes and lay on them. Indigo was fascinated and wanted to see as much as she could. No wonder Susan wanted the English gardens with all the shady shrubs and groves of sheltering trees where two lovers might hide.

Indigo watched through the flowering branches of a wild rosebush as Susan and the gardener lay nearly hidden in the deep shade. She was surprised how bright white their nude bodies appeared; if they had not been wiggling and bouncing around so much, they might be mistaken for marble figures taken down by the workmen. So the marble figures served a purpose after all: who would notice two more reclining among so many other nude figures in the gardens? Indigo watched the gardener bounce and grunt on top of Susan, then roll over on his back with her on top of him. She lost interest after a while because they did more of the same. Just as Indigo was turning away, she saw Susan catch a glimpse of her; for an instant their eyes met before Indigo hurried up the path to the driveway where the workmen were loading the last of the marble statues.

At dinner Mrs. Abbott announced Susan and Colin were joining them after dinner for some of Lucille’s fresh peach ice cream. Indigo’s heartbeat quickened. She knew Susan had seen her, and now Susan was coming that night. What for?

As the time of Susan and Colin’s arrival approached, Indigo chewed the food, but even with sips of water she was barely able to swallow the pork roast and sweet potatoes. Sister Salt once warned her never to peek at white people having sex or they’d go crazy and come after you.

Indigo was relieved to see the expression on Susan’s face — a warm smile that did not waver when she greeted Indigo. Indigo held the ice cream on her tongue until it melted, then managed to swallow the cool sweet cream though her throat still felt tight in the presence of Susan and Colin.

After Edward and Colin excused themselves to follow Mr. Abbott to his study for liquor and cigars, the women went to the parlor. Susan sat down beside Indigo on the brocade love seat and leaned close to say she was disappointed to miss Indigo this afternoon; she was told Indigo wanted permission to visit the parrot. Indigo stared down at her hands and swallowed hard before she slowly nodded her head; her heart was pounding so loudly that she had difficulty understanding Susan’s words. What was she saying to Mrs. Abbott and Hattie? Did Susan say “bird”? Indigo glanced toward the door, anxious to be excused.

How odd, Hattie thought; the child seemed afraid of Susan. Hattie smiled and patted Indigo’s arm to reassure her; she seemed not to understand what Susan had just said.

“Indigo! How wonderful! Susan wants to make a gift of the green parrot to you!” Hattie’s voice was full of enthusiasm.

Indigo felt the tips of her fingers and toes tingle as she nodded and shyly thanked Susan. She was too uncomfortable to look into Susan’s eyes, but she smiled and thanked her very much. The green parrot! Just like in her dream!

Mrs. Abbott shook her head in disapproval. Where would the child keep the bird? Not in the house! But Susan waved her hand in the air — that was no problem! The bird could remain in her aviary until they departed. Mrs. Abbott shook her head; she disapproved of travel with pets. How would they ever take a parrot to England and Italy?

“I have a lovely brass travel cage with a quilted cover,” Susan added.