“Tay, come and help me with the new arrivals,” Sister Kathleen called.
Leaving the album upon the table, I glanced at the doctor. “I will give your words much thought, Doctor—”
“Please, call me Simon.”
“Simon.” His name seemed strange and unfamiliar to my lips. Still, a small shiver of excitement captured my heart when I said the doctor's name.
“After turning on my heel, I gave Simon a quick glance over my shoulder.
He smiled and hurried out of the room.
“Yes, Sister Kathleen,” I said in a breathless voice when I joined her on the front porch.
The teacher gave me a searching look. “Are you well, Tay?” she asked her pale hand touching my forehead. “You are not feverish, are you?”
“No. I am well,” I assured her, glancing down at my feet. It would not do for me to let Sister Kathleen know of my uncertainty. I was not ready to give words to my fears. I loved Jacob Five-Wounds, but when Doctor Simon Joseph spoke to me today, my heart fluttered like a small sparrow's wings. What was happening to me? Why did I feel like a whirlwind held me firmly in its grasp?
“I need for you to help me calm the young ones. Can you do this?” Sister Kathleen asked. “I know this may bring back bad memories for you. If—”
“No. I can do this,” I replied, and stiffened my spine. “The young children will be frightened. It is better that I am here to help you.”
“I am proud of you. I told you that, Tay?” she asked, her hand clasping my chin.
I felt a lump rise in my throat and I swallowed hard as I met her gaze. “Yes, many times Sister Kathleen.” I had felt her eyes upon me and known her approval.
She cleared her throat and I watched her bright blue eyes cloud with tears.
With a start, I realized I felt love for this white woman. A love that was as strong and as true as the love I had felt for my grandmother and my aunt's. Sister Kathleen had found a place in my heart.
As we walked to the incoming wagons, I felt a knot in my chest. Was Simon, right? Could I be a teacher and help these children? Or was it Jacob who spoke the truth-- we could not live as Indians if we wished to survive.
My worries were soon forgotten as a cloud of dust and dirt covered us. A second team of horses pulled up beside the first. The sound of crying children filled my ears and the stench of sweat and horse filled my nose. Suddenly, I understood why Sister Enid had insisted all the children were bathed!
It was as if Sister Kathleen read my thoughts.
“Not everything about Sister Enid was evil,” she said. “When she first arrived at the school, she raised the standards of cleanliness and made certain the children were fed. It was only during the past four years she became cruel.”
I did not reply. I could not imagine Sister Enid being different than the hateful woman I had known.
Perhaps Sister Kathleen was right, even Sister Enid could not have been born evil.
“Have everyone line up here,” Mary Billy said, rushing from the bathing area. She held an apron in her hands as she rushed toward us, her boots kicking up dirt as she ran. “Sister Bernadette knocked over a tub of water and there was mud everywhere. No. No. Not over there, Tay. Stay over here. If the children get muddy, Sister Louisa will throw a fit.
I felt a smile curve my lips and tried not to laugh. The image of Sister Louise acting in such an undignified manner brought a bark of laughter from my lips.
Sister Kathleen also was struck by the humor and she began to laugh.
Soon, Sister Kathleen and I were leaning against each other for support. Our stomachs hurting from our continued laughter.
Mary Billy stood next to us stomping her foot. “What type of example are you setting for the children?” she asked.
“A very poor one,” I managed to say.
Mary Billy cracked a smile, then helped the children climb from the wagon.
When I turned my attention back to them, I saw their faces were covered with wide grins. The youngest of the Kiowa girls clutched my hand and stopped crying.
“Do not be afraid,” I told her. “I will take care of you.”
Sister Kathleen smiled as she greeted each girl. Most did not respond, they simply stood, staring at her flaming red hair.
Mary Billy herded her charges to the front of the line and prepared them for their bath.
It was quite different from the day I arrived, I thought looking all about me. The teachers were singing a Sunday school hymn as they bathed the girls.
After they were given new clothes the children would be taken inside and fed. I knew a hearty soup was simmering on the kitchen stove.
It wasn't home. Still, the children would not go hungry or be mistreated. Jacob was right, with time life had become better for us.
Later that evening, as I walked beneath the star-filled skies, I thought of the reservation. Of the hardships such a life would bring. It had been so many moons since my feet had felt the soft leather moccasins, my skin the buttery warmth of elk skin dress. I longed to listen to the music of the gourd dance. The heavy beating of a drum, and the soft sounds of a wooden flute.
I could almost smell the fragrance of acorn soup and deer roasting over a fire. I wanted to go home.
Where was home?
My home, my future, I suddenly discovered was a choice I, alone, had to make.
I could speak to Sister Kathleen, but she could not tell me what to do. Doctor Simon Joseph thought my future was on the reservation. But my heart, my heart told me my life was with Jacob Five-Wounds.
“Jacob,” I whispered.
Suddenly, he was there.
“Tay why do you sit alone in the darkness?” He asked sitting beside me on the soft grass.
“I have many thoughts. I must sort through them. I need to make sense of. . . the future.”
Jacob pulled a blade of grass from the ground and feathered it across my wrist.
“Ah, Tay. I watch you thinking. I see how your dark eyes cloud with worry. I listen to your voice as you calm the cries of sick children. What is it your heart cries for, Tay? Does it cry for freedom? Or for love?”
“I do not know Jacob. Simon speaks of a reservation. Sister Kathleen tells me I will always have a home in the school.”
Jacob rose to his feet and reached for my hand with one graceful movement, he brought me to my feet.
“Do you love him?” Jacob asked.
“Who?” I questioned, though I knew he spoke of Simon the doctor.
“Are you in love with Doctor Joseph? His voice gruff with emotion.
“No,” I replied, and I knew I spoke the truth. “I care for him just as I care for Sister Kathleen. But I do not love Simon.”
Jacob relaxed and moved a step closer to me. “I felt his warm breath feather across my cheek.
“Do you love me as much as I love you?”
“Yes, Jacob. I love you. I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you. From the moment you climbed on the fence and asked for your baseball.”
“I loved you before then, my strong-willed girl. I knew I would have you for my wife when I watched you stand up to Sister Louisa.”
“Your wife?” I asked, bemused by the word as it rolled from my lips.
“Yes. A warrior needs a wife, Tay. If I cannot have you, my life will be empty. I would choose no other woman as my wife.”
I looked into his eyes and knew his words were true.
“The army---”
“What path should we walk, Tay? Do you wish for our children to live among the whites? Or do you wish to go to the reservation Doctor Joseph speaks of?”
In my mind, I pictured Jacob wearing a buckskin shirt, leggings, and moccasins. His thick raven- black hair wore long with a single eagle feather for adornment.
I could see him mounted atop a brown and white horse, racing down from a hilltop, his hair tangled by and angry wind. A broad smile parting his lips as he spied the wiki-up.
He was coming home-- coming home to me.
A nation is not conquered,
Until the hearts of the women are on the ground.
Then it is finished,
No matter how brave its warriors
Or how strong its weapons.
-- Cheyenne proverb