Chapter Eleven: The Sun Dance

When Ellen and her friends arrived via taxi to the Badger-Two Medicine on Saturday morning, they were surprised by all the vehicles parked along the road. There were at least fifty and possibly more. Careful not to hurt her ankle, Ellen followed her friends through the tall pines and to the top of the open valley, where they were even more shocked to find the wilderness below littered with dozens of teepees, sweat lodges, and a large center structure from which the sound of drums carried.

“It looks like they’ve been here for a while,” Sue said.

There were campfires, ice chests, and people in lawn chairs, and there were young children running around playing a game with rocks. A few women sat on blankets visiting as they watched the children. Three men were wrapping a twenty-foot-tall teepee frame with painted canvas.

Weaving through the grounds was a line of dancers in feathered headdresses, moccasins, and beaded gowns. The dancers were arranged from the tallest to the shortest, including old and young alike. They bent their knees and bounced to the beat of the drums.

Spectators sang, clapped, and waved as this parade made its way into the center structure where most of the spectators followed.

Ellen and her friends trekked down the steep slope toward the festivities. Not finding anyone they recognized, the ladies followed the others into the big center structure, where the sound of the singing and drumming grew louder.

Inside the large dome, Ellen and her friends found the dancers and spectators numbered over sixty people. Most stood in a few rows around the perimeter of the room bending their knees and stamping their feet to the beat of the drums as they hummed and whistled along. Another row sat on the ground in front of the ring of dancers. A thick central pole, forked at the top and colorfully decorated, was surrounded at the bottom by four drummers and a few more dancers.

Ellen soon spotted people she recognized—Jack Stone on the outer perimeter, Rich Falcon at the drums, and Eric Old Person sitting in a position of prominence. Along the opposite side, she noticed Karen Murray sitting with a group of women. With tears in her eyes, Karen watched the three dancers in the center of the room, a few yards from the drummers.

That’s when Ellen had the greatest shock of all. The three male dancers nearest the drummers were bleeding on their chests where sticks had been inserted beneath the skin at the top of their breasts and tied to ropes that were tethered to the top of the central post. The three men wore wreaths of dried sage and held a bunch of it between their lips. As they danced to the beat of the drums, they leaned away from the post to which they were tethered, essentially ripping the skin from their chests a little at a time.

“Oh my God,” Tanya whispered. “Is that Terry Murray?”

“I think it is,” Sue said.

Terry danced between two others. All three men had tears streaming from their eyes as they endured their self-inflicted pain. Ellen glanced back at Karen who was watching her husband’s torment with tear-stained cheeks.

Ellen and her friends observed the dancing with fascination for another half hour when they noticed a few of the people, including Jack Stone, had begun to exit the dome.

“Let’s go talk to Jack,” Ellen whispered to Sue and Tanya.

“Good idea,” Sue said.

Ellen followed Sue and Tanya toward the exit. As Ellen was about to leave the dome, she glanced back once more at Terry Murray and was surprised to find him looking back at her. She shuddered and stepped out into the sunny morning light.

Sue and Tanya had already caught up with Jack Stone, who was standing beside a petite woman and holding a sleepy little girl, about six years old. He was saying, “Yes, we’ve been at it in the medicine lodge since sunset.”

“Don’t you mean sunrise?” Sue asked.

“Sunset,” Jack said again. “We came a few days ago to prepare and set up, but the dancing started last night at sunset.”

“I bet you’re tired,” Ellen said.

Jack turned to the petite woman beside him. “Marjorie, these are the ladies from Texas I was telling you about.”

“Hello,” Marjorie said. “I’m Jack’s wife. It’s nice to meet you.”

Although she appeared to be in her early sixties, the lines in her face were deep, perhaps from smoking or from overexposure to the sun.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ellen said.

A younger woman as petite as Marjorie walked up and said, “There you are.”

She held out her arms to the sleepy little girl.

Jack passed the girl to the young woman and said, “And this is my daughter, Jan, and my granddaughter, Joy.”

“How nice to meet you,” Sue said. “Jan was my mother’s name.”

“What a pretty little girl,” Tanya added.

“Thank you,” Jan said.

“My family and I are going back to our lodge for some breakfast,” Jack said to Ellen and her friends. “Would you care to join us?”

“Thank you, but we’ve already eaten,” Ellen said.

Sue lifted a hand in the air. “But we’d love to join you anyway. Thanks so much for the invitation.”

Tanya gave Ellen a look that said, get us out of this, but Ellen wanted to go with Jack, because she wanted to find out why Terry Murray was hurting himself.

They followed Jack and his family to a large teepee, where an older woman was already sitting, cross-legged on a blanket.

“Niksista, Anistawa Naapiianamayia’ki Sue Graham, Ellen Mohr, and Tanya, er…”

“Sanchez,” Tanya said.

“This is my mother,” Jack said. “Sinopa.”

“That was the name of our boat,” Ellen said. “What does it mean?”

“Fox,” Jack said.

“Nitsikinonootsi,” the older woman said.

“Please sit down.” Jack pointed to a blanket on the ground. “I’ll bring in the food.”

Ellen and her friends sat together on one side of the teepee. Across from them, Marjorie sat beside Sinopa, and Jan sat beside her mother with her daughter in her lap. Joy’s eyes were now closed, and she appeared to be asleep.

“Was she up all night?” Ellen asked of the little girl.

“Most of it,” Jan replied. “Are you enjoying your trip?”

Although Ellen didn’t think enjoy was quite the right word, considering she’d almost died twice, she said, “Oh, yes.”

Jack returned with eight foil packets and gave one to each person. “Be careful. They’re hot.”

Ellen wasn’t hungry, but not wishing to be rude, she accepted the warm packet, which she, like the others, set on the blanket near her crossed legs. Opening it up, she found a big, toasted bun with egg and bacon inside.”

“This looks delicious,” Sue said. “Thank you.”

Marjorie then passed them each a juice box.

“Thank you,” Tanya said.

Jack settled in on the other side of his mother. “Karen said she was going to invite you. Are you enjoying the Sun Dance so far?”

“It’s very interesting,” Sue said.

Jack and Marjorie laughed.

“You’re wondering about the blood ritual,” Jan said. “White people are always quick to judge us, aren’t they, Dad?”

“I meant no offense,” Sue said before taking a bite of her breakfast sandwich.

“But we are curious as to why Terry, or anyone, would want to put himself through that,” Ellen added.

Jack nodded. “I understand. Well, you’ll recall from our purification ceremony that Terry has a drinking problem.”

Ellen and her friends nodded.

“He’s been dry for over a week. In participating in this ritual, he makes an oath before the entire community, and he makes this sacrifice to Creator on behalf of the community. He and the other two men pay homage to Sun and Mother Earth and ask Sun to help them to be brave and strong and worthy of a new life.”

“That’s what the Sun Dance is for,” Marjorie added. “It’s about renewal. We do it at this time every year to invoke the sun and the earth to continue to rejuvenate the land’s resources and the creativity of the people who live on it.”

Just then, Ellen’s cell phone rang. Worried that she’d offended them, she quickly fished the phone from her purse and silenced the ringer. But, seeing that the call was from Father Gonzales, she said, “Please excuse me. I have to take this call.”

She climbed from the teepee and out into the bright day, where others were dancing or visiting. One older man dragged the skulls of two large beasts—perhaps steers or buffalos—behind him as he danced among the others.

“Hello, Father?” Ellen said into the phone.

“Ellen! I’m glad I caught you. I have news—good and not so good.”

“Tell me!”

“Could you and your friends come to the rectory? I’d love to discuss it in person.”

“I’m afraid we’re at the Blackfeet Sun Dance for most of the day. Can’t you tell me over the phone? I’m dying to know.”

 

A few minutes later, Ellen returned to the teepee where Jack Stone, his family, and Ellen’s friends were finishing up their breakfast. Ellen sat beside Tanya and said, “That was Father Gonzales. He had news about the remains.”

“I was just telling Jack and his family the story of Rabbit and Sister Alma,” Sue said. “What’s the news? Were the authorities able to identify the bodies?”

“They were able to identify Sister Alma,” Ellen said. “They found a rosary wrapped around one of her hands, and her name was engraved on the back of the cross, along with the year 1907. It’s not conclusive evidence, but, together with the letters of Father Galdas, it seems to be enough.”

“That’s fantastic!” Sue cried.

“But what about Rabbit?” Tanya asked.

“Unfortunately, the authorities are having a harder time with the second body,” Ellen said. “Apparently, there aren’t any dental or medical records. Father Gonzales is reading through every journal, letter, and document he can find, hoping to discover the mention of a characteristic that might prove the body is Rabbit.”

“Why not ask his mother, Maisto Aakii?” Jack’s mother said.

“Maisto Aakii means Crow Woman,” Jack explained.

Ellen and her friends told them what had happened the last time they’d visited Talks to Buffalo Lodge.

“The spirits are open during the time of the Sun Dance,” Sinopa said. “Take a medicine man or woman with you, do the Sun Dance, and Maisto Aakii will want to answer.”

Ellen glanced at her friends and back at Jack. “Where do we find a medicine man or woman?”

“My mother is a medicine woman,” Jack said, “but she needs to stay here to pray for Joy’s healing.”

“Karen is a medicine woman,” Sinopa said.

“But doesn’t she need to stay to pray for her husband?” Sue asked.

“She needs to get away from here,” Sinopa said. “Terry must fight his own battle.”

Once they’d finished their breakfast, Jack climbed to his feet. “Come on. I’ll take you to Karen, and we can see if she’s willing to help you.”

 

It was almost noon when Ellen and her friends arrived with Karen Murray in her black Honda Accord at Talks to Buffalo Lodge. At first, Tanya insisted that she would wait in the car, but when Ellen reminded her of the rock that nearly hit her in the head while she was sitting in the rental, Tanya came to the conclusion that no place was safe, so she may as well go inside.

“We have a medicine woman with us this time,” Sue reminded her as they made their way to the front door. “And we’ll make our circle of protection. It kept me safe last time.”

They carried pipes made of the bones of eagles. The pipes had soft eagle feathers fastened to them with string. Karen had a buckskin drum, and Ellen brought the duffle bag containing some of their smaller equipment, including the Ouija Board.

Although she was determined to speak with Crow Woman, Ellen was also frightened. She hoped Sinopa had been right in saying that Crow Woman would be open because of the Sun Dance.

Just to be safe, they made their circle of protection with salt and four candles. They put some snacks and water bottles in the center of it.

“We usually do this at night,” Sue said. “That’s when the ghosts tend to be more active.”

Karen moved to the center of their circle. “Why don’t you stand there with the pipes, and I’ll show you the dance? It’s very simple.”

Ellen and her friends moved to one side as Karen pounded a quick, even beat on her drum.

“Bend your knees like this,” Karen said. “And then blow through the pipes with the beat. The sound of the pipes is meant to emulate the call of the eagle, a sacred bird to Sun.”

Ellen and her friends did as Karen said.

“Now we face the east,” Karen said, turning toward the kitchen. A few beats later, she said, “And now we face the west.” They turned toward the master bedroom.

After a few more minutes of dancing, Karen set down her drum. Ellen and her friends stopped blowing through the pipes.

Karen lifted her palms and said something in her native tongue.

All four candles went out. The fluorescent tube in the kitchen flickered. An old book that had been lying on the floor lifted into the air and struck the wall. Ellen wondered if it was the same book that had smacked her in the head the last time she was here.

“I think we got her attention,” Sue whispered.

Ellen took the Ouija Board and planchette from her duffle bag. She and Sue sat on the two metal chairs with the board balanced on their knees. Tanya and Karen knelt between them and placed their fingertips beside theirs on the plastic indicator.

Sue said, “Karen, could you ask Crow Woman if she’s there?”

“Aoki tsakinohkanista’ paispa, Maisto Aakii?” Karen said.

The planchette spelled N-A-T-S-I-I-K-S-N-I-I-K-I-S-K-A-A-A-T-S-I-S-T-A.”

When the indicator stopped moving, Tanya whispered, “Does that mean something, Karen?”

“She’s asking where her son is,” Karen said.

Ellen frowned. “Can you tell her that we think we found him in Two-Medicine River? Tell her that we need her help identifying the body. Ask her if he ever broke a bone.”

No sooner had Karen translated than the planchette flew across the board and spelled S-I-N-A-A-K-S-S-I-N-I.

The planchette paused.

“Book,” Karen said. “But what does she mean?” She asked a question in her native tongue.

The old book flew up and struck a wall on the opposite side of the room.

“Does she want us to look at that book?” Sue asked.

“Where did it come from, anyway?” Ellen wondered.

Karen climbed to her feet and left the circle of protection to fetch the old book. “I’ve been in this house dozens of times and have never seen it.”

“It came out of the floor the last time we were here,” Sue said. “From over there, from in front of the hearth. You see where that floorboard has come loose?”

The old wooden floor in front of the fireplace was torn up. Had the book been hiding there?

Karen flipped through the yellowed pages as she returned to the circle. “It appears to be the memoir of Maisto Aakii.”

Sue arched a brow. “It was written by Crow Woman? I didn’t think Indian women could read or write back then.”

“It’s common for white women to underestimate the abilities of Indian women,” Karen said.

Sue’s face turned red. “I just meant it was so long ago. Most white women couldn’t read or write back then, either.”

“I think you’re mistaken on both counts,” Karen said. “Besides, this is dated 1935.”

“That means she wrote it after the death of Talks to Buffalo,” Ellen pointed out.

“It’s a short memoir—more of a letter, really,” Karen said. “Shall I read it?”

“Please do!” Sue said.