Chapter 10

 

 

Ben sat straight up in bed at the first sound of the owl. The distinct ‘Hoo, Hoo’ was loud and chilling. A Great Horned had to be sitting on the roof of the trailer. One-sixteen a.m. The digital clock flipped to one-seventeen as he watched. Then he heard the front door close. The boys must be up. Ben pulled on jeans and T-shirt and followed them outside. Nathan was standing barefoot at the edge of the porch with Zac beside him. Ben noticed the tears just as Zac put his arm around his friend.

“My grandmother died.” Nathan turned toward Ben.

“How do you …?” Ben didn’t finish. How did he know? The owl had come to deliver the message. The Pueblos and the Navajo believed the owl was a messenger of death. He’d seen it before, first hand. It was sometimes difficult to move from Anglo to Indian ways of thought. Ben admonished himself, but he needed to try harder.

Ben simply nodded and gave Nathan’s shoulder a squeeze. What would follow next was a little more complicated. In fact, tears and human shows of sympathy—any inclination to mourn the person who had gone on was frowned upon by the Navajo. Too much display of sorrow and it might interrupt the dead one’s journey to the next life. He or she might be lured back to walk among the living in an attempt to console the mourner. This return of the dead was feared and, at all cost, it was to be avoided.

“I see you know of your grandmother’s passing.” Dr. Henry stepped from the shadows at the end of the trailer. “I’ve sent word to her brother. Your uncle will be sending two individuals to prepare your grandmother’s body. It is allowed to have a close family member sit with the deceased until they arrive. Would you be comfortable doing that?”

“Yes.” Nathan walked down the steps to meet Dr. Henry.

“You know the risks?” Dr. Henry was looking at him closely.

Again, Nathan nodded, and murmured, “Yes.”

Zac and Ben stood quietly at the top of the steps and watched as Nathan and Dr. Henry walked back toward the hospital tents.

“I’m not very tired. How about you?”

Zac shook his head. “No.”

“Then I think a cup of hot chocolate might be in order.”

Ben heated milk and mixed sugar and cocoa powder, dividing the mixture between two heavy, glazed clay mugs, pouring in the warm milk and stirring before putting them on the counter.

“There might be some Oreos in the cupboard.” Ben paused before taking a seat.

But Zac shook his head. “This is great. I like cocoa.”

Zac was quiet but after a couple sips asked, “What did Dr. Henry mean by risks? Does that mean that Nathan could get hurt?”

“Good question. All people have burial protocol.”

“Like rules?”

“Yeah, exactly … rules. And the Navajo have very particular ones.”

“What are they?”

“Well, only the closest family members—and then only two—are allowed to sit with the dying and stay with the body at the time of death. Sometimes a medicine man will be with the family members. Dr. Henry would be the medicine man in this instance. I’m sure he’ll stay with Nathan and his grandmother. In some ways it’s best that Nathan’s grandmother was brought here to the hospital before she passed. Often the dying are taken out of their houses to a separate place to pass. If a Navajo dies within their hogan, the house must be destroyed, often burned along with all the person’s belongings.”

“Why?”

“Because of evil spirits. The living should never look at a dead person. The dead go to the underworld first. During this time of passage, precautions must be taken so that the deceased won’t be tempted to return to the world of the living. Human ties must be broken. Their journey must not be interrupted.”

Zac leaned on his elbows, chin resting on the palms of his hands, fingers doubled backwards pressing against his cheeks, and frowned. “It’s just kinda weird.”

“Then I’ll tell you a story. Do you know why death even exists in the world?”

“Nope.”

“Well, a Navajo legend explains it this way. One day the Navajo people were told to place an animal hide in a tank of water. If it floated and stayed perfectly flat on top of the water, there would never be death in the world again. But if it sank, death would be a part of life and dying would be something everyone must do. So, they stretched out the hide perfectly flat and floated it on top of the water. They went about their work planning to check on the hide later. In the meantime a coyote—you remember what a trickster he is—tossed stones on top of the hide. Of course, the hide sank.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Well, the coyote said that if no one ever died, the world would run out of room and food. People would no longer be able to find places to live. He had to make a world where everyone had a chance at life.”

Zac was quiet, then, “Do you believe things like that?”

“Legends have an important place in our lives. They explain things and are good teachers. The Bible has parables—stories meant to show us how to live better, be kinder to others. Other religions have equally important ways of guiding their members, usually through stories designed to illustrate the differences between right and wrong.”

“Will they put Nathan’s grandmother in the ground?”

“Yes, but not until her body has been properly prepared. “

“They do it really quick, don’t they?” Zac looked confused.

“It’s custom to bury the one who has passed within twenty-four hours.”

“Wow. The body of our neighbor’s wife was in our barn for over six months.”

“When the ground stays frozen solid most of the year, rules vary.”

“So, what happens next?”

“There’s a strict ritual that must be followed. I’m sure her brother will send two men to complete that ritual. Again, it must be done according to tradition so that the person’s spirit does not return to his or her home. Everything is done to steer the deceased toward their new home and make sure they have broken their ties with this one.”

“What has to be done?”

“While a grave is being dug, two men attending the body will strip out of their clothing only leaving on their moccasins, and cover their bodies with ash which is thought to offer protection from evil spirits. The body is then washed and dressed. Finally, the body and its belongings will be carried by horseback to the final resting place. Only this time I bet the Bronco has wheels instead of hooves. People they pass along the way will be warned of their cargo. Remember, no one should look at the dead?”

“Will his grandmother be buried out by her house?”

“Probably. And more than likely sometime this morning. She may rest closer to her brother, Nathan’s uncle—his hogan isn’t that far from the camper-trailer. But only a couple people will know exactly. Once the body is placed in the ground, great care is taken to erase all footprints around the site. The ground around the site is brushed smooth and even the tools used to dig the grave are destroyed. Mourning is prohibited. One can feel sad but no outward show of emotion in case the dead might be enticed to return to earth. I doubt if Nathan will want to talk about his grandmother. I think he was able to say his goodbyes last night before the dance.” Ben waited. Zac seemed to have run out of questions but still looked perplexed. “Anything else you have questions about?”

“I guess not.”

“Then how about another cup of cocoa?”

“I think I’ll just go to bed. But thanks, Dad.”

Ben watched his son go into his bedroom and close the door. What a summer. To say it had become a true learning experience wouldn’t even do it justice. And he wasn’t just thinking about Zac.