Chapter Twenty-three
The old crier's voice awakened Annie just before dawn. She could hear him running about the circle of lodges, yelling some important pronouncement in Cheyenne, the barking of dogs a shrill accompaniment.
Wrapping herself in a pelt, Annie stepped out of her tepee into the cold, damp grayness that would soon give way to morning. Feeling the need to relieve herself, she headed away from the lodges toward the wooded hillside, only to pause in her tracks, enchanted by the amazing spectacle taking place just a few yards beyond her.
In a small open space beneath the slope of the hillside, Moon Calf was crouched on the ground, at the center of a throng of wild creatures. With his pet meadowlark perched on his shoulder, the sacred idiot was tossing out seed to a host of birds hopping about him: striking red-breasted nuthatches, bright gold and rosy finches, brilliant bluebirds, yellow-and-black evening grosbeaks. The birds were chirping happily and scooping up the seed, a bold Steller's jay even pecking it out of the holy man's fingers. Only a few feet away, two cottontail rabbits, four striped chipmunks, and several mule deer happily munched on piles of clover that the sacred idiot had obviously laid out.
Annie was entranced by the sweet, pastoral scene, especially as she watched one of the vibrant grosbeaks flit upward to perch atop Moon Calf s head and launch into lilting song. Moon Calf closed his eyes and trilled out a response. For the first time, Annie saw the poor man smile, an expression exquisite in its innocence and joy. The sight touched her heart. Moon Calf appeared totally in harmony among the wild creatures, as if he were a part of their untamed world. Awed by a sense of magic and mysticism, Annie dared not move closer, fearing she would spook the precious creatures and spoil the delightful scene.
As she stood transfixed, Moon Calf seemed to sense her presence; he opened his eyes and stared at her. Annie smiled back shyly; he continued to gaze at her but did not otherwise react. After a moment she turned away, giving the endearing vignette a wide berth as she moved off toward a different section of the woods.
Moments later, as she emerged from the trees, dawn was painting the landscape with glorious shades of red and gold. A man's exuberant yell and a loud splash turned her attention toward the lake. First she spotted several women squatted along the shoreline, filling water skins. The females seemed oblivious of the fact that, nearby, the men were bathing. Moving closer, Annie was astounded to watch Red Shield, Sits on a Cloud's husband, dive naked into the crystal blue water. Several other men and young boys, gathered along the shore, were shucking their clothing. As Annie looked on in mystification, Sam and the old crier strode up to join the group.
Shamelessly, she watched Sam strip nude, saw the rays of dawn play over the splendid muscles of his back, his beautifully shaped buttocks, and his long, hard thighs. Desire raced through her body with unexpected intensity, warming her, making her tremble. As he dove into the cold water, she couldn't contain a shiver or restrain thoughts of warming his chilled flesh with her too-hot body. She stood riveted as he swam about for a few moments, then began to emerge from the water, revealing first his handsome, whiskered face, then his tanned neck and broad shoulders, followed by his muscular, hair-covered chest, and then . . .
A feminine voice behind Annie roused her from her near hypnotic state. "It is a tradition of the men to bathe at dawn."
Red-faced with embarrassment, Annie whirled to view Sits on a Cloud standing behind her, holding a filled water skin. "Oh—I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
Sits on a Cloud laughed. "It is a shocking sight for she who has not seen it before. The men are brave to venture into the lake, especially with water monsters about."
"Water monsters?" Annie repeated.
"There is mihn and ahke, who devour brave men alive. We must frequently sacrifice a lamb or a calf to keep them appeased. And there are the people that live under the water. They have strong medicine, and are revered. They do not harm us like the monster lizard and the bull."
"I see," murmured Annie. She nodded toward the water skin the squaw held. "The women are out and about early, too."
She nodded. "We must gather living water each morning. Water that sits all night is considered dead."
"How fascinating."
The squaw grimaced and rubbed her lower back.
Annie stepped forward. "Are you okay?"
Sits on a Cloud nodded. "I have this aching . . . I think my time may soon be upon me."
"Oh, bless your heart," said Annie, mentally wincing at the thought of the young woman having to deliver her baby in such crude conditions, with no doctor, other than Medicine Woman, to attend her. "I wish there was something I could do to help."
"Medicine Woman will know what is to be done," the squaw replied. "And you must be famished. Come over to our camp and I will serve you gruel and warm berry tea."
"But shouldn't you be resting?"
Sits on a Cloud stared at Annie as if she had lost her mind. "I am fine. Come."
Annie accompanied the young woman to the lodge of her in-laws, where she was offered hot gruel, tasty Indian nut bread, and warm berry tea. When Sits on a Cloud slipped inside to help her mother-in-law straighten the lodge, Annie decided to explore the camp. Just beyond the lodges, she watched Sam, Whip, and several braves gallop off into the hills, waving their fists and yelling exuberantly. She wondered if they were going hunting.
To the north of the corral, several children were involved in a lively game of "bear," an older boy dressed in a bearskin stalking about trying to terrorize the younger ones, much to their delight. Annie chuckled, watching the youngsters dash about everywhere, screaming gleefully and trying to hide under junipers or behind lodges. Heading back toward the common area, she observed women busy at work, some airing bedding, others tending fires or chopping roots. She studiously avoided passing directly before a lodge where two elderly squaws were quilling moccasins, remembering Sam's admonition that the quilling process was considered sacred. She paused by a mother and daughter who were sewing rawhide shirts and felt warmed when the pair invited her to join them. In broken English, the duo struggled to instruct her in sewing. Annie tried her best to mimic the women and sew a simple seam by making holes in both pieces of rawhide with a sharp awl, then trying to draw the tough sinew thread through the two layers of hide to bind the seam. All three laughed over her clumsiness.
After leaving the two, she paused before Medicine Woman's lodge; the old woman squatted near an outside fire, putting the finishing touches on a small cradle, sewing a beaded deerskin to a wooden frame.
"What a lovely cradle," Annie said. "Is that for Sits on a Cloud?"
"Yes," replied the old woman. "Her time will be soon. I have already prepared the herbs to ease her labor, and the milk medicine for afterward." She pointed toward the hillside, where Red Shield was raising an isolated tepee. "The birthing lodge will be ready soon."
Annie found it odd that the tepee was set apart from the others, but didn't comment.
Medicine Woman gestured to the ground beside her. "Sit for a time."
"Thank you."
Annie squatted beside the old woman, watching her skilled fingers work the hide. "Have Sam and the others gone hunting?"
The woman nodded. "I think he wished for us to talk."
Hearing a meaningful inflection in Medicine Woman's voice, Annie wondered how much she already knew. "Has he told you my entire story?"
"He has told me some," Medicine Woman replied. "You do not have to say more if your heart directs otherwise."
"No, I want you to know," replied Annie frankly. "Especially since I feel so frustrated with Sam."
The old woman chuckled. "My grandson is a proud and determined man—but his heart is good."
"I realize this," Annie assured her. "But has Sam told you he refuses to believe me?"
"Yes."
"Will you hear what I have to say with an open mind?"
She nodded. "That is only just. But I must hear the entire tale from your lips."
"Fair enough," agreed Annie.
Annie launched into her account, telling Medicine Woman in broad terms about the world from which she had come, a world of the future over a hundred years ahead of them in time. She explained how she had grown up in Texas and had lost both her parents. She told of her work on the ghost town in the Texas Panhandle and of how Sam had tracked her there, unwittingly crossing some barrier in time, then taking her back to this century with him. At this point in the story, the healer looked up from her labors to gaze at Annie oddly, though she did not interrupt.
"I know it sounds strange," Annie continued, "but Sam is convinced I'm someone else, a criminal named Rotten Rosie, just because my face resembles one on a wanted poster. Even stranger is the fact that the real person he is after is my great-great-grandmother, and I know she must be in terrible trouble. In fact, in some bizarre mystical way, I think I may have been sent here to help my ancestor. Sam and I—well, we've become very close, and he's no longer set on taking me to justice. But he won't believe who I really am, and how can I straighten out this mess, or rescue my ancestor, until he does?"
Annie fell silent, staring at Medicine Woman, whose expression was once again impassive. At last she looked up and said quietly, "I will hear more of your world."
Annie hesitated. How could she make this woman, who had lived in primitive conditions much of her life, understand automobiles and spaceships and weapons of mass destruction? Nevertheless, she made a valiant try, describing the world of the late twentieth century, spinning images of marvelous modern wagons without horses that carried people for many miles, rockets more powerful than shooting stars that bore man up into the heavens, and bombs destructive enough to destroy entire civilizations. She portrayed how pictures could move across screens, how voices could travel over vast distances, with or without circuits. Turning to territory more familiar to Medicine Woman, she spoke of how modern potions could stop pain and cure illness. She continued on and on, trying to depict everything from computers to skyscrapers to cellular phones in terms the old woman could understand. Medicine Woman listened intently but did not give away what she was thinking.
Finally, Annie could think of no more to say and gazed at the woman in uncertainty. "Do you believe me? Will you help me?"
Having finished the cradle, Medicine Woman was putting away her sewing implements. "I know that a message from our spirits brought you here. This is surely why our sacred man had his vision and told Sam where to find you. We both recognize this, but my grandson cannot see the full truth as yet. He is a good man, but his totems are the gods of the White Eyes. He has abandoned the Cheyenne in his soul, and he needs to rediscover the way of the spirit. I will meditate on these matters. The Wise One Above will guide me. When the truth is shown to me, I will speak with Sam."
Annie touched the old woman's hand. "Thank you. That's very fair, and all I can ask."