After many weeks had passed I regained a measure of my former strength and was allowed to help with the care of the small children who remained in confirmatory.
During this time, Jacob Five-Wounds was assigned to the task of bringing firewood and refilling the water buckets inside the infirmary. Doctor Joseph also asked him to remain so that I and Mary Billy could be relieved of the heavy lifting while we care for the patients.
Doctor Joseph believed that sponging down the arms and legs of our young charges with a solution of water and alcohol would speed their recovery. Each morning Mary Billy took care of the task, while I was assigned to afternoon duty. It was fatiguing, the constant sponging and lifting of children. I was lucky to have Jacob Five-Wounds to help me.
The air inside the infirmary was heavy and my short hair clung to the back of my neck and to my forehead in damp strands. Using the hem of my apron, I wiped the perspiration from my face.
Jacob refilled a large bowl with the doctor's healing water and placed it on the table. I glanced around the room and counted six more children to bathe. Placing my hand against the small of my back, I tried to relieve the discomfort I felt for the repetitious movements.
“Tay, you have been on your feet since lunch,” Jacob said. “Sit down and rest. I will bathe Emma. Doctor Joseph said you are not to tire yourself, otherwise your fever will come back.”
I glanced at Emma, a pretty Kiowa girl, her eyes closed in sleep and her round cheeks flushed from the fever. I knew Jacob Five-Wounds would take good care of Emma. Still, I hesitated. My mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of Little Fawn.
Brushing my fingertip against the soft flesh of Emma's face, I said, “I gave my word to the doctor.”
“I know,” he replied, moving nearer. “The Nde always keep their word. No matter the cost.”
I felt Jacob's warm breath fan my temple and my heart pounded with all the fury of a war drum. Glancing into his dark eyes, I saw a wisdom far beyond his years. Jacob had seen much sorrow in his lifetime. He, too, had lost loved ones both to illness and to hatred. He understood my fears and my past. Jacob Five-Wounds did not judge me.
“You have taken good care of the children, Tay,” he said, his voice low and intense. I clung to the emotion I heard in his words. “You have kept your word. Now it is time for you to rest.”
Jacob took the sponge from my hand. His fingertips brushed against my palm, but still I could not move away. A warm shiver like hot honey slid along my spine and I wondered if my knees would support me.
I felt the water from the sponge dampen the sleeve of my dress. The dampness evaporated quickly when it felt like the pulse point of my heated wrist.
Was Jacob going to take my hand in his? We were alone except for the sleeping children inside the infirmary. The doctor would not return until evening.
Being alone with a man was forbidden at the school.
I watched Jacob's gaze fall on my lips.
Suddenly, I did not care that we would be punished if one of the sisters found us.
Kissing, I knew was a white man's way of courting. A wave of uncertainty fell upon me. Kissing, was not the way of our people. Still, I wondered what it would be like to kiss Jacob.
Should I allow such a liberty?
Jacob brushed a strand of my hair away from my forehead.
“Are you promised to anyone?”
I thought of Apacheria. I recalled the night White Eagle played a wooden flute in a sweet courting song. And of the days we had walked along the stream’s edge.
I thought of all the times I'd lay awake, praying White Eagle would speak to my grandfather and arrange our marriage.
I swallowed the tightness in my throat. “No, Jacob. I am not promised to anyone.”
“Life is different for us now, Tay.”
There is no place for us to walk. No place for us to build a lodge. I cannot speak to your family nor bring gifts of the ponies. The old ways are dying. Just as our people are dying.”
I felt my eyes fill with tears. Never had I heard such sorrow in anyone's voice. I found I could not speak. I could only listen to the painful whisper of his words.
“The white man's way is not a path that I understand but it is the path I must follow when I leave the school.”
As I listened to Jacob speak, I realized how much older he seemed since I met him outside the garden. Much had changed for us during those many months. I knew what Jacob said was true. Our world was different. Our lands were vanishing. Our homes were gone. There was no one to arrange my marriage. No clear path for me to follow.
“I had thought to live in the ways of my mother and my grandmother,” I said. “To build my wiki-up near the place of gentle winds. To watch my children, play in the evening firelight. And to grow old among my people.” Looking into Jacob’s eyes, I felt my pain. “Everything I have ever known was taken from me. I am confused. I do not know if there is a path for me to follow.”
“Poor, Tay,” he said, kindly. “You have lost even more than I.”
I felt my confusion grow. I had strong feelings for this man—stronger, perhaps, than my feelings had been for White Eagle. But I no longer knew who I was. Tanayia was lost to me, I realized, and someone named Tay had taken her place.
I stepped away from Jacob. I saw my hands shook, and I clasped them tightly together. “I cannot speak of the future now,” I told him, my voice harsh. “Please Jacob, do not ask me to live the life of a white woman.”
I remember the hatred in Sister Enid’s voice when she spoke about the Indians. “I do not think it is possible for us to live with the Whites, Jacob. I do not think the white men will welcome the Indian into his world.”
Jacob turned, placing his hands on his hips. “You are right, Tay, to say they do not welcome us now. However, they will learn to accept us in their world. What choices are there left to us? The old ways are dying, even more quickly than our people are dying. I came to this place when I was five years old. My family was starving, Tay. Starving. My parents sent me away as I would have plenty to eat.”
“I did not know this, Jacob. I'm so sorry.” My reason for coming to this school was painful. For I have no people to return to. But Jacob. . . Jacob had to leave his family and his home. Every night he must wonder if his family is well. If his people are still alive; if he has a home to return to. This, I thought, is much crueler than being left alone in the world. “Do you have news of your people?”
Jacob’s eyes were troubled when he spoke. “My grandfather is very ill. My mother does not expect him to live through the summer.”
“Perhaps Doctor Joseph could arrange—"
“This is why I wish to enlist in the Army, Tay. An Indian Scout can travel across the country. Visit his family. When an Indian wears the United States Army uniform he is not beaten and searched. He is not asked for a pass if he leaves the reservation. His family does not go hungry. He is still a warrior. He is treated like a man.
I listened to conviction in his voice. I understood how difficult it would be for a warrior to be stripped of his possessions, unable to provide for his family. Jacob’s decision made sense. Still, I was filled with uneasiness. This white man's army fought in wars. In what war and against whose people I wondered, would Jacob Five-Wounds be ordered to fight?
“I cannot think of such things Jacob,” I said. “I can only tell you I will not live amongst Army wives. I am not a white woman and I will not live like one!”
Jacob accepted my words, a thoughtful expression coming to his handsome face. “You are correct, Tay. We are not white, or will we ever be. There are many things for us to consider when we think of our future. Go and rest. I will watch over the children.”
I knew that my words had displeased Jacob, for his voice had a sharp-edge to it now. Sadness replaced the fatigue I had felt.
I valued Jacob Five-Wounds friendship and I hoped I had not offended him. But I did not wish to take back my words. Though I did not have a home or any people to return to, I was still Nde. How could Jacob ask me to forget this?
Nothing the Sisters did or Jacob said could ever change that fact.
What caused me the greatest pain was that Jacob wished for me to change. How could he think that we could live with the army fortress? These people would never accept us as equals. Especially, when it was the Indian people the army fought.
Turning on my heel, I hurried out of the room, tears brimming my eyes, clouding my vision. I was angry with myself for caring what Jacob Five-Wounds said. I was even more upset because I was giving thought to his plans.
As I rounded the corner of the hallway, I nearly charged into Mary Billy.
“Tay, tell what is wrong.”
I was so upset by Jacob's words that for several moments I could only stop and stare at Mary Billy. Watching, as she carefully placed a stack of linens on a shelf.
“Tay, are you ill?”
Seeing he worried expression on my friend’s face, I found my voice. “No. I am only tired. Jacob Five-Wounds told me to rest.”
“Ah, so now you are upset with Jacob. I understand. Ute men can be so bossy,” Mary Billy said, her dark-eyes humor.
No. It is not that,” I said glancing down the hall and making certain that no one overheard us. “Jacob said something that upset me. . .I don't know what is wrong with me today. I am so confused. I don't seem to belong anywhere. I have no place to go when I leave the school.”
“These are troubling times, Tay. Especially since Doctor Joseph has come to our school.”
“Why do you say this Doctor Joseph is a good man. Life is better now.”
Mary bit her lip and chose her next words with great care. “Yes. He is a good man. But Sister Enid and the doctor do not get along.”
I handed her a stack of sheets from the wicker basket on the floor. “Why is this?” I asked, suddenly fearful that Sister Enid would send the doctor away as she had sent away Sister Kathleen.
“The doctor blames the headmistress for the illness in the school,” Mary Billy said. “He says she did not see to the care of her charges. She allowed the conditions to become overcrowded. The food lacked nutrition.” Mary’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Dr. Joseph said Sister Enid did not obey the government's rules.”
I felt my heart jump into my throat. Sister Enid would not allow anyone speak to her in such a manner. “What did Sister Enid say?”
Mary Billy gave me an odd look. “She said nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Doctor Joseph is a member of the United States Army. Tay, this means Sister Enid must answer to him. Did you not know this?”
My hands trembled causing me to drop towels I held back in the basket. “No, I did not know. . .never thought. . .” The realization that Sister Enid was accountable to someone filled my soul with hope. Perhaps Kathleen would return to the school. Before I could voice my thoughts, Mary Billy spoke.
“Doctor Joseph oversees the running of the Indian boarding schools. He is one of the first Indians to be educated in the university. He is a surgeon. Doctor Joseph holds a highly respected position in the United States Army.”
“This is a good?” I asked. “For an Indian to attend the university?”
“To many people, yes. Dr. Joseph is well educated and accepted in the white world,” she replied.
“All Jacob talks of is the white world.” I heard the bitterness in my voice. “I have seen the way the whites live. I do not wish for my children to be taken from me and sent to schools. Jacob talks of the army and Dr. Joseph speaks of the university. What of our future Mary? I believe we are women, is there no place for us?”
Mary nodded her head. “I have many of the same thoughts. Soon we leave the school. Sister Enid knows we cannot make a life for ourselves in the city. Sister Louisa says we can work as wash women in a laundry or clean rooms in a hotel. But you and I know this is not true. If we go into the white world we will starve or worse.”
“Do you wish to live in the white world?” I asked suddenly desperate for another choice. I did not wish for the school to be all the future held for me.
“No,” Mary Billy replied.” I wish to go back home. My grandmother has a Hogan and she raises sheep. Grandfather makes silver necklaces and he sells them, along with my mother's woven rugs, to a trading post. This is what I wish what I would do in two years’ time.”
“Why are you here.?” I asked not understanding how she could leave her family.
“Grandfather was told by the government that I must attend this school. At first, he refused. Then the Army soldiers came and killed many of our sheep. The Navajo were told that if children did not attend the school by summer’s end the Army soldiers would return. Father was afraid that if more sheep were killed we would all starve. So, my father brought us here. He instructed me to study hard. It would be good he said for my brother and I to understand English. When we returned home, we would be better able to trade with the white man.”
I glanced at the infirmary door and sighed. Perhaps I had been too quick to judge Jacob Five-Wounds. He, too, was looking to the future, his thoughts were of his family and a way to provide for the needs of a wife.
“Sometimes, Mary Billy, I am filled with such anger. Anger for what has happened to me, and for what has been taken from me. I am afraid I have hurt Jacob.”
“Talk to him, Tay. He will understand,” she told me. “Jacob Five-Wounds really cares for you.”
I looked at my friend through troubled eyes. How could I make Jacob understand my fears? Especially, when I did not understand those fears myself.
If my warriors are to fight they are too few; if they are to die they are too many.
--Hendrik
Mohawk