Chapter Ten

 

4:15 a.m.

 

Before we strolled through the front door, I passed Mr. Mayhem the pastry box to carry in, to buy time for me to prepare for this charade.

“Yá’át’ééh,” he said to Shicheii and Maggie, using the traditional greeting spiked with cheer. “We bought pastries for this morning’s festivities.”

“What a thoughtful idea, Cheveyo.” My grandfather dragged a gentle palm across the crown of my head. “You look tired, child. Did you not sleep well?”

If he only knew. “Not really, but I’m okay.”

With one hand stroking my damp hair, he stared deep into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m good, Shicheii. Thanks for worrying about me, though.”

He wrapped me in his powerful arms, and I melted into his chest.

Clearing his throat to break us apart, Mr. Mayhem held out a Styrofoam cup. “The herbal tea doesn’t come close to yours, my friend, but it’s all they had.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious, Cheveyo. Thank you.”

Good thing he stepped in because I sensed my grandfather clawing through my subconscious, searching for answers.

From the tray, Mr. Mayhem lifted out another cup. “For you, Little Rain, a hot chocolate with whipped cream.”

“Yay!” Lightly clapping her hands, Maggie jumped in place, the scalloped hem of her My Little Pony nightshirt bouncing with her. “Thank you, Dedenaan.”

“The pleasure is all mine, little one.” He mussed her curls. “Careful. It’s hot.”

Drink in one hand, we all lined up for a napkin-wrapped pastry, and then followed Shicheii out to the porch and into the yard, soft moonlight showering down on the tribal blanket spread across the earth. All of us sat in a circle, facing each other, cedar and pine wafting in the pre-dawn air.

Mr. Mayhem placed a fat, unscented candle in the center and lit the wick. “This represents the Sacred Fire.”

“Thank you, Cheveyo. Normally, kids, we would celebrate the Summer Solstice with a ceremonial, but saving lives takes precedence over celebrations.” The top half of his body turned toward his lifelong friend. “Where is Spirit Crow? I thought she’d be joining us.”

“She’s roosting with Poe and the others. They’ll be along soon.”

“Excellent.” Shicheii focused back on me and Maggie as sugary warm apples and caramel tangoed on my tongue. “Let’s begin where we left off last night. The relationship between Mother Earth and Father Sky is central to our way of life.” Twisting at the waist, he waved his hand at the horizon. “See how Father Sky stretches out over Mother Earth? Living beings inhabited the space in between earth and the stars. The life force of all living and growing things derives from Mother Earth, Father Sky, or Father Sun. Do you understand?”

In unison, Maggie and I said with packed mouthfuls, “Yes, Shicheii.”

“Very good.” He sipped his tea. “Various supernatural beings helped create the world, and they inhabit the universe alongside mortal humans. These Holy Ones are concerned for the welfare of the Earth Surface People—us.”

Mr. Mayhem dabbed his lips with a napkin. “The Holy Ones can also be dangerous and harmful.”

“Thank you, dear friend. He’s right. The Holy People possess many powers. Can anyone name two?”

Maggie’s hand shot above her head.

“Little Rain.”

“First Man and First Woman.”

“Very good, child.” Shicheii patted her folded knee. “First Man and First Woman showed us how to construct Hogans by building one in the sky, modeling the cosmos in various ways to ensure the well-being of all inhabitants. Black God placed the stars in the sky. Dilyehe—the Pleiades—are his stars. Each time he stamped his foot, they moved up his body until they finally settled on his forehead. Black God carefully placed Fire Star, which is…?” Jabbing his chin, he prodded me to fill in the blanks.

A bite of warm Danish slid down my throat. “The North Star, Polaris.”

“Correct.” His warm gaze settled on me, and everyone else faded into the background, Shicheii’s love all-consuming and special. “Very good, child. I’m so proud of you,” he said, and my heartbeat soared to new heights, a fast pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter clattering behind my ribcage. “Little Rain, what was the next star Black God placed in the sky?”

“Male Revolving One,” she said, her tone spiked with cheer.

“Excellent. And then?”

“Oooh.” I waved my hand. “I know this one, Shicheii.” When I glanced over at Maggie, she tossed me a metaphorical bone by smiling, her big, brown eyes full of wonderment and innocence. Giving her a quick one-armed squeeze, I said, “Female Revolving One.”

“Yes, indeed. He also placed First Slim One, which you might recognize as Orion. The Man With Legs Ajar—” Hesitating, the longing gaze at Mr. Mayhem urged him to translate into a phrase I might recognize.

“Also known as Corvus—the Crow—a southern constellation that lies between Virgo and Hydra.”

“Thank you, Cheveyo. Next is First Big One, which you may know as the head of Scorpius, and then Rabbit Tracks, the tail of Scorpius. These principal constellations not only lit up the night sky in the moon’s absence, but they invoked stories and reinforced social laws, confirming principles of orderly behavior needed to ensure the community would survive and flourish.”

Shicheii took a quick belt off his tea. “The sight of Revolving Male and Revolving Female rotating around Fire Star set an example to be followed—only one couple should live in a single Hogan and cook over the same fire. This emphasized the importance of family responsibilities and to reinforce the social convention that sons-in-law must avoid gazing into their mothers-in-law’s faces.”

When my grandfather bit into his pastry he allowed us time for the Sacred Knowledge to take root. “Rabbit Tracks directed social behavior differently, through its seasonal patterns of appearance and disappearance, defining the periods when our People could hunt. Through observation, we learned simple truths.”

How could Mr. Mayhem act natural after dismembering a man two hours ago? Granted, Worthington was a total scumbag, but still. He chopped him up and wrapped each individual piece like a butcher cut steaks from a cow, then sat next to a spiritual leader and played an intricate role in his teaching.

What did my involvement say about me? How could I sit here and eat and enjoy the moment with death on my hands? Did I even deserve to listen to this story?

“As we observe the blossoming of life all around us,” my grandfather said, drawing me back in, “we receive the energy of vitality and experience awe for the generosity of Mother Earth, who provides everything we need to live a full and happy life. I want to share a quick story about the hero twins, Monster Slayer and Born for Water.”

“Ooh,” I blurted out. “I remember them from building the sweat lodge.”

Shicheii’s brilliant white teeth glowed in the candlelight. “Father Sun impregnated two twin girls. One girl gave birth to a monster, the other gave birth to Monster Slayer and Born for Water. Do you remember their mother’s name, Mourning Dove?”

“I know she put her twins on either side of her, but I can’t remember if she’s in the West or the East.”

“East.”

I guessed, “Changing Woman?”

“Very good, child.” Since he sat across from me, he grabbed hold of my hand and kissed my palm. “As the twins grew up, they wanted to know the identity of their father. Once they discovered their father was the Sun, they immediately went to see him, but they had a very specific reason. You see, children, the monster, along with other monsters roaming the earth, were devouring children. This was a terrible thing, as you can imagine. And so, the twins wanted to go to Father Sun to get weapons to bring back and slay the monsters.”

After setting down his tea, Shicheii folded his hands in his lap. “The two brothers began a long, intricate journey—we’ll discuss the intricate details of their journey another time—but basically, they first visited Spider Woman, who gave them an Eagle plume for protection as they journeyed on a rainbow to the Sun. When the twins arrived, they entered the house of the Sun, and at first Father Sun didn’t recognize them. ‘You are not my children,’ he said. To prove their lineage, he tested the brothers. Once they passed each test, the Sun admitted they were his boys. As a result, he gave them weapons—a bow and arrows—and they returned to Mother Earth and slayed the monsters.”

“Wow,” was all I managed. “You are the coolest, Shicheii.”

Big grin, his cheeks dimpling. “Let’s pray before we observe all nature has to offer us.” Shicheii stood and tossed sprinkles of corn pollen into the early morning air. “As the Sun spirals its longest Dance, cleanse Us. As nature shows bounty and fertility, bless Us. Let all things live with loving intent. And to fulfill their truest destiny.”

The prayer doubled as a gut punch, shame swallowing me whole. But when I thinned my eyes at Mr. Mayhem, he drew a clenching hand down his torso, and mouthed, “Cleanse.” Then he pointed two fingers at his eyes and turned those fingers toward the wood line. “The Summer Solstice is a spiritual time of renewal. A rebirth,” he clarified. “Thank you for that beautiful prayer, Jacy Lee. I feel the power of your words already. What about you, Cat?”

The underlying message eased my guilt, and a flush warmed my cheeks. “I feel it, too.” Somehow, Shicheii washed away our sins. Whether or not he meant to, he erased last night from the Book of Life, and my body tingled all over with rejuvenation. “I really do.”

Maggie said, “Me too, Shicheii.”

My grandfather giggled as he squeezed in between Maggie and me. Cross-legged, we sat in a row facing East. Silent trickles of light spread across the horizon—dawn’s first breath of a new day.

“Shicheii,” I hushed, pointing at a reddish-brown animal with the most adorable buck teeth. “What is that?”

“Groundhog,” he whispered, “also known as a woodchuck. He’s a member of the rodent family, belonging to a group of large ground squirrels known as marmots. They’re diurnal—active from dusk to dawn—and are an animal totem. They’re believed to rule cycles of life. A groundhog teaches us how happiness and sadness come in cycles, and to accept life’s consequences. We persevere through tough periods of adversity because the groundhog tells us a new beginning lies on the other side of sadness. Watch how he interacts with his environment, honey.”

Shicheii gave Maggie a one-armed squeeze. “What did you find, Little Rain?”

“Chippie by the trunk of the oak tree. I think he’s a boy.”

Squinting at the chipmunk, I leaned forward for closer inspection, but I still couldn’t tell the difference between male and female. “Does he have balls—err—testicles?”

“Shawnee,” she scolded as if we’d swapped maturity levels, “look at his tail. Boys have short tails, girls are long.”

“Oh. My bad.”

“Very good, child.” Another squeeze for Maggie. “Chipmunks were important animals in olden times. The chipmunk offered help, direction, and advice to our People. They symbolize play and innocence, planning and adaptation.”

Poe and Spirit Crow soared into view, and Mr. Mayhem said, “Jacy Lee, I see two magnificent corvids.” Grinning, he winked at my grandfather. “What do they symbolize?”

Shicheii chuckled. “Why don’t you tell us?”

“I would love to, dear friend. Thank you.” Mr. Mayhem peered around me at the group. “The symbolism connected to crows is complex and contextual. These exceptional birds have cast themselves as important figures in mythologies and traditions of several cultures worldwide. Although the misrepresentation of death remains, our People recognize crows as symbols of insight, intellect, curiosity, and playfulness. Crows, as well as other lookalike corvids such as ravens and jackdaws, hold prominent places in art, poetry, and storytelling. They’re known for foresight and vision.”

Poe landed on his father’s shoulder perch, and Mr. Mayhem kissed his bowing head. Gazing upward at Spirit Crow, circling above our heads, he said, “They’re associated with wisdom, wit, selflessness, and occasional mischief. Overall, however, we recognized crows as good luck, good fortune, transformation, and divine wisdom from the Holy People. Hence why they are also a Spirit Animal.”

“Thank you, Cheveyo. Very informative. Good morning, Poe.” Shicheii nodded to Spirit Crow. “Good morning to you, child.” He patted the blanket. “I hope you’ll join us for sunrise.”

Spirit Crow swept her wingtips down Mr. Mayhem’s face as she landed—showering him in love. With his shoulder occupied by Poe, she sauntered over to me—hips wiggling, tail feathers swishing—and hopped onto my folded knee. God, I missed her.

Once everyone settled, eager stares in Shicheii’s direction, he veered back into teaching mode. “In the pre-dawn hour when the sun’s light first emerges in the East—five minutes ago—we call that time hayíítká. Five minutes later, the light spreads out. You can see it happening now. Five minutes from now is dah’áii’á when the light rises upward. Five minutes after that, the dawn process is over.” He motioned with his hands. “During this period, when the rays are going up, it’s like a feather. As we observe, note the constellation connected to late June.”

“The Sun—Johannaa’ei—is everything,” said Mr. Mayhem. “In our worldview, for example, when an elder sees a whirlwind or tornado, they’ll say it’s the Sun acting. A tornado comes into being through the Sun’s heat and the air that’s up in the atmosphere. When thunder emerges from the tornado, it’s the Sun acting. Whenever there’s something that falls to the ground, it’s the Sun acting. It’s all interrelated. Even gravity.”

“Excellent point, Cheveyo.” Shicheii stood, urging us to rise with him. “As above, so below. All things are connected, including us. When Father Sun rises, the rays will hit our foreheads, and then the Sun’s rays—the sunlight—will go down from here.” He drew an imaginary line down his body. “Down to our feet. In the evening when the Sun sets, the rays reverse and will move all the way up.” He motioned up his body. “Once the Sun moves over the western horizon, this is where the sunlight will move away from the body.” He swept a hand from his forehead off the top of his head. “Like the stardust we discussed last night, the same stories accompany the Sun. We are stardust. We are Sun. Everything the Sun provides, the resources, is what provides life. Without Father Sun, there would be no life. Thus, the Sun is life.”

“Fun fact,” Mr. Mayhem added. “All the energy and mixed matter that our People have known for thousands of years is what Einstein talked about. Yet for our People, this is old knowledge passed down through generations. The white man credits Einstein for discovering what we’ve known for centuries.”

My grandfather’s cheeks dimpled.

“Honestly”—my head wagged on its own—“I don’t see how you can’t hate white people.”

Concern etched my grandfather’s forehead. “We do not judge the actions of many by the actions of some.” He stroked my hair. “Your father was an honorable man, a good man. He gave me you, the most precious gift in the world.” With an arm slung around my shoulders, he lowered his voice. “Hatred is a potent emotion, too potent to take up space in a human heart. Should we talk about it?”

I stared at the ground. “No.”

“The acts committed against our People are part of our story, not our complete story. We can never forget, but we can forgive. Are you struggling in that area, Mourning Dove?”

Big time. “Maybe a little.”

“Your feelings are valid, my sweet child.” He hugged me, kissing the top of my head. “You take all the time you need to process it in your own way. Just don’t let it consume your beautiful spirit. The Natural World has too much to offer.”

“I love you, Shicheii.”

He squeezed me tighter. “And I love you.”

The flapping of many wings broke our embrace.

Great. Poe invited the local murder for breakfast. Let’s hope Spirit Crow can keep ’em all in line.