Read A Kachina Dance Online

Authors: Beverley Andi

A Kachina Dance (8 page)

BOOK: A Kachina Dance
7.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

The smell of the pines assaults the nose
most
pleasantly
as we climb
steadily.
T
he fir
boughs block the sun giving us a shady
lane
to meander.
J
ay slows the bike so w
e
can
relish the cool
Pinion pine
forest
around us
.
I lean my chin
on Jay’s shoulder and he
squeezes my hand at his waist.
In a clearing we overlook the
canyon below as it dances in dazzling
magenta hues. We climb higher and the air feels purer, cooler
,
lighter
.
The
mostly
rough
and only partly paved
road
curves
a
round as
we
ascend
. T
he
butt
e
that
we are
scaling rises vertically about
2,000 feet
.
A
bruptly
the road
narrow
s into
a one
lane dirt pass
that snakes back and forth as
we head to the
pinnacle
. I pray we don’t meet a car coming in the opposite direction.
I look down
and see how perilously close we are to the edge of the cliff.

Jay turns
with ease
on to
what looks like an old foot trail
that is rocky and covered with weeds. The bike
’s tires raise sandy clouds
of dust
beneath the treads
and weeds catch on our jeans.
The dry seed pods
standing along our
path
burst in the wind, flinging the
ripe
contents
into the air like confetti
.
The engine chokes from the stress o
f the weed covered passageway.
A thorny vine whips at us and tears the skin
on my hand.
It stings
but I dare not look at it now.
My hands stay firm on Jay’s waist.
The height is dizzying.
The ride is
frightening
. Y
et
it’s
exhilarating!

Carefully
Jay
turn
s to the right and heads to a lone pine near a rock out
-
crop
ping and shuts off the engine.
Without a word h
e he
lps me off the bike
and
leads me
to the edge of the cliff.
The pano
rama before me is breathtaking.
I try
to say something but I can’t.
I look at Jay and he
gives me his little smile
and puts his arms around me.

“I felt the sa
me way when I found this place.
There are no words
if it speaks to you.”
He smiles his little smile
again
.

I lean my head against him and
feel a shiver.
W
hen I do find my voice, I
say
,

Jay
,
this is paradise

it is
magnificent.
Unless you are here
breathing in the sky, feeling the
power
of the
mountains
, and drinking in the gypsy colors
of the canyon
walls
,
you
can’t
imagine the magic.
” I take a breath. “I feel
so
privleged
to be here
!

“This is one of m
y favorite places to be alone.
I often come up here just to listen to the wind
or watch the
birds fly above the canyon.
The light and shadows striking
the red cliffs are perfect at this time of day.”

“Hmm, perfect,” I sigh as I fe
el his hand tighten around me.
Together we watch an eagle glide
effortlessly
on a current of air below us.
The parched grasses stir as a trifling
gust saunters
along
.
I am moved by m
y smallness in so vast a dominion
.
I appreciate the ancient peoples need to be here; s
o harsh a land yet so beautiful
a place
.
T
he
toughness of this
land calls to
the
soul and seduces
forever
.
This is mother
earth…t
his
wilderness…t
his
arid region
…t
his physical
sovereignty
.
Jay breaks my thoughts.

“Let’s get out of the sun.”

I realize for
the first time that I am
cool,
almost chilly
.
Under the windblown
pine tree, we set up our
picnic on his colorful blanket
.
The tree
offers protection
.
The ground is
uneven
and through the wool blanket I feel some of the weeds poking through.

“This looks like a family heirloom
, should you be using your blanket like this?”

“It was made to be used.
I guess someone in my family, maybe my great grandmother
,
wove it.
I just remembe
r it was on my bed as a child.
And when I left home for N
ew York my mother gave it to me,
to remind me of my roots.
I take
it
with me wher
ever I go.
I’m not going to hang it on a wall like they do in museums, if that’s what you mean. I’m going to use it.

“I bet yo
u were an adorable little boy.
I can just see you cuddled up in bed with the blanket on top of you.”
I smile. “Treat the blanket gently, never-the-less, it deserves respec
t.” I pass him a beer.
“That was quite a ride, a bit scary but so exciting!”

He laughs.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to share it with.”


What happens
if you meet a car coming down?”

“A car is nothing;
you just hope you don’t have to pass an RV.”

I gulp.
“An RV?
You mean somebody is crazy enough to drive an RV up here?”

“Yup, and we’
re not even at
the top.  We’re on an old Indian walking
trail I found near the summit. It’s mine.”  He smiles.
“All mine.” He plays with my hair. “No one comes here but me.
”  He leans over and kisses me.

“Hmm.”
I laugh.
“Sounds like you got plans.”

He kisses me again. “Little moaner, I’m very hungry tonight.”


Uh-
hunh
, s
o, do you want a sandwich or do you want to pick?”
OK, I know he’s not talking about food but I’ve never done it outside. Have you?
Suddenly I don’t know how to respond so I stay on task. 

“Make me a sandwich, spoil me.
I won’t have this opportunity again.”  He laughs
as I
dangle
a bunch of grapes over him
while
he
lies down looking at the sky.
As always
he looks at pe
ace,
at one with
the land.
He
must never leave here, I think.
I feel the lump in my thr
oat as I concentrate on the sandwich
but my eyes are starting to water.

“Katie, I have a surprise for you.
” He raises himself on one elbow as h
e turns on his side to face me.
I hand him his sand
wich.
I grab
a beer,
some crackers, cheese and grapes.

“A surprise?
  I love surprises. Ouch, darn.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing.
I got scratched b
y a thorn before and it stings.
I’ll live.”

“Let’s see.”  He examines my hand
an
d kisses the tiny reddish mark
s
.
“All better?”

“Hmm, yes.
Now, do I get an ice cream?”

“I’ll do better than that I promise.”  He gives me a wide smile.

“Oh, is that the surprise?”


No
.
The surprise is that
I was able to fix it with one of the ladies at
the Cultural
Center to change workdays with
me.
So I’m going to have two days
off this week to be with you.
Next week I’ll
work straight through the seven
day work week
.
It won’t be bad because it
will keep me from missing you
.

He smiles.

Is that a nice surprise?
W
e’ll have two
whole days together.

“Oh, Jay, you doll!
That’s the best news you could give me other than coming to N
ew York.”
I leave my food
and
lie
next to him a
nd cover his face with kisses.
He laughs and puts his arms around me and studies my face.

“Have you been crying?”

“Yeah, get used to it. It’s a girl thing.”
I try to smile.


No tears, that’s a guy thing
.
We’re
gonna

celebrate our love this week.
We can always cry next week.
Hmm?”
 
I don’t have time to answer because he is already on top of me
kissing me. “Kate, this morning when I said I wasn’t interested in marrying again
,
I thought that’s what I wanted. But all day I’
ve been thinking
about what you told me
at the diner the day of the home dance. Y
ou
said you
wanted a husband and a family.
Y
ou could persuade me.”

There’
s that little smile as he looks into my eyes and
kisses me deeply.

I guess y
ou know the rest
, right?
And in case you’re
wondering, there’
s nothing as amazing
as seeing your lover’s eyes against the backdrop of the blue sky
.

A
s
he sleep
s
, I wonder
, what wo
uld happen if I didn’t go home?
I cradle Jay in my arms
and
I ask myself
,
if I
could
just walk away from my
old life and never look back?
Do I have the guts to stay
here with this man
?
There could be many more nights like this

if only..
.

 

Chapter 6

As the week come
s
to a close we talk less and love
more.
N
e
ither one can find a solution.
We a
re both mature
enough
to
know
that
the
separation i
s the test
.
We decide
to just give it time and see wh
at the next several months will
bring.

So I leave
among tears and kisses not sure
I will
ever see Jay again.
In my apartment I
begin to unpack
.
I break into sobs as I find Jay’s colorful blanket ca
refully hidden in my suitcase.
When my crying subsides I unfold it to find a neatly printed note.

BOOK: A Kachina Dance
7.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Golden Hour by Margaret Wurtele
Sweetest Temptations by J.C. Valentine
Moving On by Larry McMurtry
Dublin Folktales by Brendan Nolan
Twin Passions by Miriam Minger
Layla by E. L. Todd