79

The Dine Homeland

He walked away from the settlement and stood among the trees. He gazed out into the valley that had now become his home.

I would never have come west, but for the machinations of Jesse McDonald. Can I stay in the West, especially without the government job? Will recalled that he’d discovered he could make a living as a sales clerk in Santa Fe, but that was not a life he wanted. Can I give up my employment, my security? Can I really give up my identity as a civilized human being? Can I give up being a white person, with a long Virginia heritage?

Will knew he couldn’t hide out here for long. If Carleton and McDonald and the others are going to get their revenge, won’t they soon send the soldiers here to arrest me and take me back by force? Won’t they use that as an excuse to abrogate the peace?

Am I going to do once again what they tell me to do? Or wait for them to come for me? Do I have any real choice?

Of course, he told himself, the answer is obvious. The officials are right: Mr. William Lee of Lynchburg, Virginia cannot remain in the West living like an Indian wildman.

Will turned and headed back toward the Diné settlement. As he approached the brush arbor where his friends waited, he worried over his decision one last time and then detoured over to the hogan he shared with Hasbaá.

He rummaged around to find his mother’s worn carpetbag. Here were the few personal belongings he’d kept from civilization. He found what he was looking for. He opened the folded sheet of paper and then took a quill and ink and quickly scratched a new date on the top of the page, then carefully tore off the signature penned at the bottom. There would be room for Dr. Steck to sign it over again and make it official.

When Will returned to the brush arbor, everyone was waiting in silence. A look of sadness hung over the little group of friends.

Will held up the paper for them to see. “Joel, when you return to Santa Fe, please take this to Dr. Steck. Tell him it requires his signature.”

“What is it?” Joel asked timidly. He hated to see Will leave the frontier.

“It’s my death certificate,” Will answered. “It says here Agent William Lee was killed in a fire in the Indian settlement. It doesn’t say where the settlement was. Let it be here.” He grinned. He “died” once before in the buggy in front of his father’s church, and it had started him on a new life. Now he would “die” again and win that new life for good.

“You are my dearest friends, my family. I’ve learned from you the meaning of the dear love of comrades. I have found a reason to live. As far as the United States Government is concerned, William Lee is dead. They will not come for me.” He turned to Hasbaá, “Will you prepare a ceremony? I too want to be called by a name that belonged to an honored member of the Diné family. And ask Changing Woman to see that our needs are provided for. After all, we’ve now got two children to support. The future of our family depends on it.”

“And now it is time you two had a proper wedding ceremony as well,” declared Dezba. “You now have a new hogan together; you will bless that as your marriage hogan by sharing maize from the wedding basket together. Our whole outfit will join together to bless your family. Your love for one another gives blessings to us all.”

Will bent down and kissed Hasbaá on the forehead. She wept openly. Will, too, started to cry. These were tears of happiness and joy, tears for a life that had passed beyond, tears for a new beginning.

Will looked back wistfully seeing how far he had come, both in geographical space and personal growth, in such a short time. Like the heroes of old he had read about, his journey began when he made the decision to leave the strangling confines of his father’s world, and by the happenstance of Harry Burnside’s job referral, to take off on a mythic quest. Now he wondered if indeed that meeting with Harry Burnside was happenstance; maybe it was the work of Changing Woman even as far away from Diné Bikéyah as Lynchburg.

Once he had arrived in New Mexico Territory, he’d begun a process of discovery, as he learned about the Diné way of life. His vision expanded as he discovered that all the world was not as it was in Virginia. But more than that, he also went through a process of discovery about himself. He had grown from a feckless adolescent who let events control him, who thought that the only choice was to conform to social expectations or to commit suicide. Now he had become a confident adult who learned to take charge of life and direct change to the benefit of others as well as himself.

And in the process of this journey of discovery, in Hasbaá Will had found a love and a family and a society that had taken him in wholeheartedly. Hasbaá was a Two-Spirit Person, but in a larger sense Will and Hasbaá had become Two Spirits, two individuals, united by their love to protect the Diné people, this ancient culture and the Two-Spirit wisdom.

By realizing that he did indeed march to the beat of a different drummer, Will had opened himself to finding a new home. As he gazed lovingly on Hasbaá, Will knew in his heart that Diné Bikéyah had become his real home. He committed to living his life in appreciation for the spiritual power of Changing Woman and for the intimacies of the dear love of comrades.

Will also sent back with Joel a short letter to Harry Burnside. It said simply that he was very grateful for all the help he had received. He told Harry that he would probably hear rumors that he had died out in the West. He said he couldn’t confirm or deny the rumors. There seemed to be truth on both sides.

He asked Harry to drop a note to the Reverend Joshua Lee. He wanted the old man to know his son had lived and died well, that in dying as he had, he had done something heroic. He said he wasn’t sure the Reverend Lee would understand it if he knew the details, so it was better for him just to know that one of the last things the boy said before his identity passed out of the world of civilized men was that he thanked his father for starting him on this adventure and forgave him for not knowing what he had done.