Leslie Silko - Gardens in the Dunes

She gazed off to the southwest in the direction of the old gardens. She was homesick for the dunes, for the peacefulness and quiet; for the good sleep she had in Grandma Fleet’s dugout house, which was much cooler than a tent. She missed the cold clear water from the crack in the sandstone of the shallow cave above the dunes.

The only time she wasn’t homesick was when she was flirting with handsome strangers or lying with one of them on the sandy riverbank in the shade. The old-time Sand Lizard people believed sex with strangers was advantageous because it created a happy atmosphere to benefit commerce and exchange with strangers. Grandma Fleet said it was simply good manners. Any babies born from these unions were named “friend,” “peace,” and “unity”; they loved these babies just as fiercely as they loved all their Sand Lizard babies.

Sister Salt took her choice of the men willing to pay a dime for fun in the tall grass along the river. Maytha and Vedna said Chemehuevi-Laguna women like them knew how to enjoy life, but this Sand Lizard woman was lusty! Candy did not mind — he was making good money and busy himself. Her body belonged to her — it was none of his business.

“You can’t be everywhere all the time,” Dahlia taught him, “so why worry about who or what others do when you aren’t there?” Besides, Candy loved women of all ages and colors; every time Candy drove the supply wagon to Needles, Prescott, or Yuma, he took along bundles of clean rags and stale bread to give to the street corner Indian women and to the children alone in the alleys. Sister Salt thought Candy’s kindness to women was his best quality. Why should she care if Candy had sex with other women — especially the Chemehuevi twins, because they were best friends? She hoped he avoided that Mojave woman only because the woman was her enemy. It wasn’t likely, though, because the poor man seldom had time for sex with any of them; Candy worked all day and half the night seven days a week to earn those silver dollars.

Candy’s gambling and brewery tents were packed with miners and cowboys as well as construction workers most of the day and night. He hired another, older Mojave woman to work with the woman who hated Sister; the Mojave women stirred the coals and watched the roasting meat on payday. Sister watched them from a distance and knew they talked about her. Only white men were hired as card dealers or to run the dice games; when he was not cooking Wylie the elaborate meals the man lived for, Big Candy was the overseer, who stood silently behind the customers to observe the dealers to keep them honest while they dealt cards or rolled dice. A young Mexican called Juanito began to drive the wagonloads of laundry because Candy was so busy. More tents for poker and dice players went up under the cottonwood trees along the riverbank.

“I’m this much closer to Denver,” he’d say, holding his money pouch close, with a blissful expression on his face to let Sister know he was imagining his hotel’s dining room; of course, the main dining table would have to be oversize — he’d have it made in Mexico and shipped to Denver by train. Soon the hard work would pay off. Sister didn’t intend to go to a cold climate like Denver’s, but she didn’t want to discuss it; she hoped maybe he would change his mind and buy a hotel in Prescott or Kingman instead. She didn’t want to leave the area where her sister and mother were last seen.

Gamblers flocked to the tents under the cottonwood trees along the river; after sundown a cool breeze came from the river and many men lounged outside to smoke or to count their winnings. Maytha and Vedna confessed they met two handsome young Mexicans, winners at blackjack, and they went off to the willows along the river; they had the silver dollars to prove it!

Next evening when they went, Sister Salt came along with them to see if the Mexicans were as handsome as the twins claimed. The next thing she knew, she was on the smooth sand under the cover of the willows, in the arms of a handsome Mexican with curly black hair. Charlie was different; she loved his smile and his quick, clever remarks that always made her smile or laugh; she never took money from Charlie. She found herself waiting to see him again, unable to concentrate on anything else as she scrubbed overalls with the Chemehuevi sisters.

For a while Charlie visited her almost every evening after his shift ended; Candy was so busy he hardly noticed. But soon Charlie confided to Sister he felt uncomfortable, and feared somehow Candy would cause him to lose his job. In Tucson Charlie was a married man — what if rumors got back to his wife? Nothing Sister Salt said would reassure him; later she suspected a spell cast by that Mojave woman; or maybe some missionary cautioned him. Charlie kissed her good-bye: he’d miss his Sand Lizard girl, but he couldn’t afford the risk any longer.

Sister Salt never cared much what other people thought; she never minded the taunts of the churchgoers — Indian or white — who pursed their lips anuslike to spit insults at her. She blamed the loss of Charlie on churchgoers who forgot Jesus loved the prostitute Mary Magdalene and called her sister. Jesus knew there could be no peace without love — why didn’t the churchgoers remember that? Wovoka preached the corpse on the cross wasn’t Jesus but some poor white man! She herself had seen Jesus winter before last, and he looked like he might be a Paiute, like Wovoka, with handsome dark skin and black hair and eyes.

After Charlie quit her, Sister began to hate the steaming tubs of smelly overalls — now the smell of soap and dirty clothes made her vomit, and so did the odor of the yeast in the brew. Before long she realized she was pregnant; a little Sand Lizard baby was coming to keep her company.

As the flutter of the baby inside her grew stronger, she dreamed a voice she knew was the baby’s. “Get a move on,” it seemed to say. “We can’t go until we get Indigo back,” she whispered. It must be Charlie’s baby, though she wasn’t certain; it might be Candy’s — both men were always on the go, no wonder the baby was like them. Probably the baby would resemble both men since both had sex with her regularly. But now that Charlie stayed away, the baby would become more and more like Big Candy until it was his child. That was what sex during pregnancy did.

If she stayed through the winter there was a chance the dancers and the Messiah might come down from the north again and she might find Mama. Anytime a letter might arrive with news of Indigo.

JUST AFTER the ship left sight of land, Edward brought out the letter that arrived just before departure. News about Linnaeus! Hattie cleared her throat and began reading; her face lit up as she read this: “I am delighted to report the little monkey is as happy as can be with his new companion. The maid tells me she watched the monkey play with the kitten. The monkey dangles the end of his tail through the bars to lure the kitten to play with it.”

Hattie folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope.

“It was very kind of Mr. Yetwin to write to set our minds at ease. In your next letter, please let him know we greatly appreciated his charming description of Linnaeus and the kitten. We feel much relieved, don’t we?”

Indigo nodded her head vigorously as she imagined the monkey playing with the cat. Although the letter told only of the game through the bars, Indigo imagined the door of the cage open wide and the two of them chasing each other among the branches of the wisteria above the cage. She knew the white blossoms were gone by now but she preferred to imagine Linnaeus and his cat playing hide-and-seek among the flowers.