15 
LORD OF THE DANCE

Saturday Night

Excitement was in the air as spectators hurried toward the main arena. Dancers were lined up at the entrance to the park awaiting the start of the Grand Entry, which consisted of the formal opening of the powwow.

Among the spectators were Justine and Darrius, holding hands and anticipating the start of the first of many performances that night. She held Darrius’s hand and smiled at him. She didn’t see the expression on his face that she had hoped to. As he looked at the dancers ready to walk into the arena, his expression had changed to that of being sullen. She thought maybe he was remembering what had happened to him years ago as he danced the famous trickster dance. Her objective that evening was to take his mind as much away from that as she possibly could. To help accomplish that, she wore more native attire, including the squash-blossom hairstyle that she thought looked silly on her. She wore it anyway, along with fringed jeans and the Koshari T-shirt. She looked down at the shirt, thinking maybe wearing another shirt might have been better, but he said he liked it.

She clutched his hand tighter. “I’m so excited about tonight. This is the real deal, one of the main things I came here for.” She reconsidered her words. “Actually, now that I’ve met you, the dance is the second-most important thing to me.”

“Glad a mere mortal like me can have that kind of an effect on a goddess. I’m glad you’re here. Grand Entry starts soon, and I want us to have a great spot. We should get as close to the front as possible. There are a lot of people here tonight.”

“Why so close, though?” Justine asked, curious.

“So you can see everything. Also, having you at the front will make it easy for me to find you.”

She quickly turned to him. “Aren’t you going to be next to me?”

“Yes, but I have to help Derrick put on his paint for the dance. It won’t take too long, and then I’ll return to your side again. You’re safe here.”

“Well…if you say so.”

“I do. You’ll see some very interesting things tonight, and you’ll be so close to them that you’ll see them in your dreams. The traditional first song will start soon.”

“Good. Can’t wait to hear it.”

“Every dancer and contributor enters the arena by this song.”

“Even the Koshari?”

“Derrick will walk out, too, but not in the Koshari costume. Believe me, you will see plenty of that outfit soon.”

Justine stood in amazement as the dancers walked into the middle of the arena. However, as the dancers walked in, Darrius’s face seemed to express that he missed the dance, that it was something he was raised to do and understand in all of its intricate details. She felt sorry for him, wanted to find a way to help him, lighten his mood, but there was nothing she could do. If Darrius wanted to get over this, he would have to find a way, but she would always be willing to give him support.

She smiled and leaned into him. “Who will be the honoree this year?”

“You know about that?”

“Sure, I have studied the culture a bit before coming here. That’s why I was so anxious to get the assignment, to learn more. I’m sure I will get a wealth of information tonight—to add to what I already know.”

Darrius kissed her cheek. “There’s plenty to see and learn here this evening. If there’s anything you have questions about, just let me know. There are a lot of intricate moves and steps you may not be aware of; some are not mentioned in many of the reference books unless written by dancers. Basically, the powwow has turned into a competition to see who is best, who is the most creative, the most outstanding. Let’s watch the Grand Entry. Each group of dancers enter the arena to the song. First the flag bearers enter and then the head dancers, veterans. But I’ll explain it all when we see them. There’s also contest and honor songs, like what you asked about a minute ago. Every year someone from around here has something to celebrate. This year Demario and Caitlyn are celebrating their marriage this October.”

“Marriage, huh. Ever thought about marriage yourself?”

“Lately.” He smiled and then turned to the dancers marching into the arena.

Justine smiled a secret smile herself, and then returned to the onslaught of dancers marching to distant drums.

* * *

Before the ceremonial dancing started, Darrius bought two more corn tamales with deer meat, sodas and bottled water.

He bit into his tortilla and wrapped his arm back around Justine’s shoulder. “I know you’re getting used to the taste of buffalo meat, but I figured you could use something different.”

“I actually like it now. The taste was a little gamey at first, but it’s good. Deer is good, too.”

“Buffalo used to be our main meat.”

“I know, from years ago.”

“Our meat is all of us from the Paleo-Indians to the present. We are all one family.”

Justine pointed into the crowd. “Look, the Northern Traditional Men Dancers. I was hoping they’d be here.”

“And they are, of course.”

Both watched as more dancers entered. They wore native outfits from beaded moccasins to beaded belts. What impressed Justine most were their headdresses, breechcloths and eagle-feathered fans.

After the Northern Traditional dancers came the Southern Straight, representing warriors on the lookout for enemies. They made Justine a little wary, causing her to shy away when a dancer came too close.

Darrius held her hand. “Don’t be scared. They won’t hurt you; I won’t let them.”

“I know I’m a little skittish, but their movements are so garish and rough, like the Famine dancer. He really scared me, but it was his purpose and I understand that.”

“And like his was, this is only for show, darling. The dance lets people know what a real war party was like for Paleo-Indians.”

Justine watched in a mix of wariness and amazement. Dancers wore mock animal skins, trailers, turbans and other traditional garb.

After the Southern Traditional dancers joined the others at the edge of the arena, the Grass Dancers began their march into the arena. Darrius introduced them. “What’s coming out now is, I think, the oldest of the powwow dances—the Men Grass Dancers.”

“What’s their story? I do know it is one of the oldest dances, and I think that is what Derrick was doing the other day—it looks familiar.”

“He does do the grass dance. It’s essentially religious, and there are several accounts of its beginnings long ago. One account describes warriors in search of a place to practice their thanksgiving rituals and worship. The dancers move in the formation, swaying back and forth. Just watch, it actually describes itself—if one looks hard enough. We worship nature and are thankful for our home—the Earth.”

Justine watched the graceful movements of the dancers as they offered their thanks to Mother Earth. A sense of calmness came over her as she listened to the sacred music accompanying the dance.

* * *

After the last women’s Fancy Shawl dance ended an hour later, Darrius kissed her cheek. “Derrick is due up soon for the kachina dances. I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“Not this time. I’ll be in the men’s dressing tent. You wouldn’t want to be in there with a bunch of sweaty men, would you?”

“I’ve seen the time when I would have said yes. Now the only man I want to see nude is you.”

“And so you shall, but not now. I promise you’ll be okay, and I’ll be right back at your side.” He stroked her chin, and then he walked off in the direction of the teepees.

Justine watched him walk off until he totally disappeared. She missed him already. And then she returned to the dancers, watching the women’s Jingle Dress dance.

The night was hot and humid, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how all the dancers made it through the night wearing such heavy costumes. The Jingle Dress dancers were no exception, coming out in full regalia with bells and thimbles. She had read about the tradition of the Jingle Dance and knew it originated as a kind of medicine for curing a variety of ailments in the old days. The dancers twisted their feet in unison to the right and left while moving sideways.

Darrius hadn’t returned after nearly half an hour, but she stayed where she was. She could see the heat in the air, could smell smoke from food stands and watched the differing dances with acrobatics. It gave the appearance of a large, outdoor cookout. She rubbed her eyes to get a clear view of the arena, and was ready to see the antics of the kachina dances. The ‘traditional’ kachina dances didn’t normally take place at powwows, more so inside kivas and on mesas, but as Darrius said earlier, the kachina dances were involved this time for added enjoyment and also to teach lessons not normally learned at traditional powwows. It had been Derrick and a few others’ decision to include the kachinas this time; it made for a more spectacular event, and Justine felt honored to be able to experience it. During her brief stay, she had gotten a few good shots. All in all, everything she had experienced had been worth the trip.

She stood on the sidelines of the arena watching the nominations for the contest songs. Once the nominations, which were based on creativity, beat and timing, were announced, the traditional dancing was soon over. Everyone returned to the arena before the start of the famous kachina dance. From what she had read and learned from Darrius, it was a serious ceremony, but had its share of levity—at the hands of the Koshari.

Darrius returned with cups of tea for the both of them. “Glad you stayed put. The dance is about to start.”

“I told you I would go nowhere without you, but why hot tea on a hot night like this?”

He stared at her blankly for a moment, and then remembered what he was supposed to say to her. “This is the real Teepee Dreams tea that I didn’t give you the other night. It’s to get you in the mood for after the dance.”

“Why? What’s going on after the dance?”

“Us, as soon as we leave the park.”

“Care to show me a little bit before the ceremony?”

“Can’t. We should concentrate on the dance or we’ll miss something.”

“I think snuggling against you is worth missing a few things.”

“Not tonight. Not yet, anyway.”

She sensed his apprehension, but kissed his cheek anyway. “Umm, you taste great. I’m always in the mood for you!”

He pulled back, confusing her more. “Are you okay, Darrius?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Just seem a little distant all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine, just excited about the dancing. Want food, bathroom, or anything before it starts?”

“No, I’m fine. I sneaked off to the bathroom during the Shawl Dance.”

“Good girl.”

Justine watched him for a few seconds longer as he stared into the large crowd. She wondered if he was fearful that his brother’s dance would end in tragedy, as his did. Then she thought for a moment. Derrick has danced many times before. What would make Darrius nervous about this all of a sudden? Discarding the idea as a figment of her imagination, she, too, stared out at the crowd.

The lights flickered off and on and Darrius took her hand. “Ready to see my brother do what he does best?”

“More than ready.”

The announcer stood in the middle of the arena dressed as the Crow Mother kachina. Justine listened carefully as he explained the ceremony, what would be happening and who would be represented. In the background, she saw some of the arena.

Darrius whispered in her ear. “What you see now is considered the Guard Kachinas.”

“I know. Remember, I told you I’ve done some reading about kachinas?”

“Oh?

“Darrius, I know you remember me telling you that.”

“Just kidding. Wanted to test your knowledge. Then since you’re so smart, tell me who you see.”

“I see the Broad-Faced kachina—”

“What does he do?”

Why was he questioning her? To test her?

She took a deep breath. “Well, if you insist on my telling you. He has something to do with being on all mesas during the bean dance, and he’s a guard. He keeps a close eye on the Palolokong dances.”

“That’s some of it.”

“Any more questions?”

“Yeah, who are the others in the center now?”

Barely able to take her eyes from him due to his rapid-fire questions, she stared into the circle and pointed. “Well, I think I see Warrior Woman.”

“Right. H’e-e’-e, is the native name. Who else?”

“Can’t I just watch the ceremony?”

“Sure, but name two more for me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t want to be left alone, Darrius. I just want to enjoy the ceremony, maybe have you tell me a few things I don’t know. I see Toho, Ahote and Ewiro. Hey, doesn’t Ewiro guard the clowns?”

“You’re right. You do know a lot about my customs and beliefs.”

“Comes from growing up with native children. I’ve seen their kachina dolls before, but when I was a child, I never could fully understand the lessons the doll represented, no matter how much the native children explained them to me. Can I watch the ceremony now? They’re really getting into it.”

“I suppose.”

“Good. Wrap your arms around me and tell me everything.”

He did as asked, but he held her loosely, as if he had left his feelings for her inside Derrick’s teepee. No matter how she tried getting closer to him, he kept his distance. It almost brought her to tears. This from a man who talked of marriage only an hour or two before. This from a man she made love to on a horse, of all things.

During a break in the kachina dances, she caught a glimpse of frantic antics from another kachina. Darrius whispered in her ear, “Here’s your boy.”

Her eyes lit as the Koshari pranced into the arena, immediately followed by Ewiro. “Wow, it really is him!”

Koshari danced his way into the arena sporting the rhythmic style and agility of an African tribal dancer and the ease and depth of a ribbon dancer. Justine stood there in Darrius’s arms, amazed that she was actually seeing her favorite kachina perform. She had no idea Derrick had so much soul in his movements. He was fascinating to watch as he chased several of the guard kachinas around the area. “I…I had no idea he could move like that. He’s awesome.”

“He’s incredible at what he does; the best dancer I’ve ever seen.”

Only the Koshari could rid her mind of Darrius and his sudden distance. Koshari was a feast to the eyes, something she had always wanted to see since seeing her first Koshari clown as a child. Now she was witness to him, seeing him in the flesh, dancing like a wild man—an erotic wild man. His moves were so smooth, almost sexual, that she nearly felt ashamed to watch him in the company of Darrius—almost. He was lyrical in movement. The man painted in white and black stripes with tassel hat mesmerized her beyond reason.

Koshari was on the other side of the arena in front of a group of fans who were egging him on. Apparently, they knew his antics and wanted him to display the actions of a very un-Hopi-like individual. He brought a lesson, that of being the last person to be like, and thus avoid being shunned from the group. He was a glutton, an antagonist, a…clown who exemplified all rude behavior; the lesson was exaggerated in dance. He did it so well.

Justine watched him as he doused the guards and onlookers with buckets of water. His fruit tossing made a slimy mess of many people, and Justine was amused enough to actually want to be part of the action. He was the most amazing character she’d ever seen.

The way his body moved heightened his physical strength, and from as far away as the opposite side of the arena she could see his muscles. His bulging thigh muscles under the breechcloth excited her. His nude, striped torso rippled with each heavy bucket of water he tossed. The way he ran, stretching his long, lean, well-toned legs almost made her own legs weak. If only she could see Darrius like that. Being a twin to this fabulous dancer and witness to his sexual strength, she knew he could dance just as provocative and be just as stimulating.

Darrius was clearly enthralled by his brother’s dance. His expression said he was itching to do the same. She held his hand tighter, kissing it. The kiss made him antsy for some reason, and he continued to avoid her.

Justine returned her attention to the amazing dancer. Koshari had proceeded to paw at the audience, traipsing around the left side of the arena in a frantic search for a victim. He stopped in front of a young woman, pulled her into the crowd and dowsed her with the remaining bucket of water. The poor young woman just stood there, not knowing what to do with her wet clothing as Koshari danced around her, tossing more fruit, making a mess of his unwilling participant. Suddenly, Koshari decided to show his true prowess by lifting the young woman above his head, stunning the audience. The crowd oohed and aahed, and at the same time Darrius’s hand gripped hers tighter, nervous. Apparently, once Derrick hoisted the woman it brought on visions of what had happened that night eight years back. Justine looked up at Darrius; his eyes were fixed on the action.

“Are you thinking about what happened when you did that?” Apparently, the accident was very much on his mind, and she wanted to make him feel at ease. It didn’t work. His jaw tightened, his muscles clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on the field.

“Darrius? Are you okay?”

“I’m…yeah. He hasn’t done that in years.”

“I thought it was part of his act.”

“Not usually.”

“Don’t worry. He’s doing a great job.”

That produced a smile. “He sure is, isn’t he?”

They watched Derrick totally embarrassing the young woman as he slowly lowered her to the ground. As he did, Justine noticed the rippling muscles in his back accentuated by the black and white paint and how his muscled arms constricted, showing off pure power! His bare feet stood sturdy on the lumpy dirt, his legs straining even though he tossed her body around as though she were a rag doll.

In the midst of the frolicking, his tasseled hat fell to the ground; again, Darrius’s grip on her tightened. She knew why. The night the girl died, his hat had fallen, too.

He quickly retrieved the hat, replaced it, returned the girl safely to the audience and continued his prancing.

Derrick moved closer to her side, teasing the audience, egging them on as they dared him. There was nothing the guard kachinas could do to stop him because he was, at that point, sheer energy. Justine could feel the heat in her shirt and panties just watching him. Why would he have to be Derrick?

Justine cringed when Koshari moved closer to her side of the arena. She did not want to be pulled into the action, no matter what she may have thought just minutes ago.

Her back was pressed against Darrius’s chest, inching away, yet he failed to hide her. He pushed her forward. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked Koshari?”

“I—do, but he’s coming closer. He’s a little too up close and personal.”

“So what?”

Not a typical response from her lover. “What? What are you saying?”

“He’s not going to hurt you, Justine. Get up close; take a good look at the legend you have wanted to see since childhood. You did say that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but—”

Koshari was now before her, smelling of watermelon, sticky from heat and a combination of sticky-sweet delights. His eyes focused on her, his chest heaving.

Ahote, a hunter kachina, came to her rescue, but Koshari pushed him aside as if tossing a bag of feathers away. That’s how strong and how determined Koshari was to obtain his ultimate kill. His ultimate thrill.

Justine pushed her shivering body against Darrius’s for whatever protection she could get. Just as she thought she saw a way out around Darrius, Koshari grabbed her arm, pulling her mercilessly into the crowd and into his muscled, fruit-tainted lair.

She reached back for Darrius to save her, but all he did was stand there smiling, his hands thrust deeply into his pockets. It was as if he wanted her to be tossed into the air and humiliated. Though the dancer was Derrick and not Darrius, couldn’t the same thing happen to his brother—to any dancer? She was in the clutches of a purposeful maniac. It was his job to be insane, crazy, intimidating, silly. Then why did she like the Koshari so much? Because, despite his aggressive and unscrupulous behavior, he excited her.

Something about a wild and aggressive man had always tempted her, and this time he was hidden behind a façade, something she would like to look at hard to see his distinct features. She did not plan to get close enough to Derrick to see anything. Wouldn’t that make Darrius jealous? Sure. The way he was acting, standing there on the sidelines laughing as his apparent girlfriend getting humiliated; he needed to be jealous. Jerk!

But was it really important enough to have her body twisted and conforming to the body of another just to make Darius jealous? Again, sure! The only thing, she’d have to get rid of her nervousness and let this man, this brother of her lover, touch and caress her body much the same way a lover would, only on an exhibitionism-type scale. Would her nerves allow it? She was soon to find out, because Derrick’s strong arms were lifting her to the stars as others laughed.

Before she realized anything, she was face to face with the stars, up so high in the man’s arms that the ground was a world away. Fear was her first reaction, but then she remembered what she wanted to do—make Darrius jealous, and prove to him that she could relax in the arms of another man. The trick was how to do it. Her heart rate soared and she could hear the laughter of the audience; she assumed Darrius’s laugh was mixed in somewhere. The silver bracelet resting partially against her and partially dangling felt like it weighed a ton, as did her precious squash necklace. She couldn’t do it, she was too scared and had decided to give in to Darrius—let him win, in a way.

Her body seemed to relax, suddenly just as limp as a rag doll. Her mind had relaxed due to over stimulation. There was too much going on and shutdown was the only recourse.

With her eyes now staring at the sky, her body felt relaxed, and the ground seemed so far away. Koshari slowly lowered her to his midsection, and she felt the power of his erection practically bursting through the covered jockstrap. At that moment, not a thought was given to the scores of people watching them.

There was utter attraction between them heightened by Derrick squeezing and manipulating her to his pleasure. She could hear the audience cheering for this barbarian, this utter heathen, and her loins were now ablaze.

With his knee now between her thighs, she could feel him pressing hard, felt that tremendously muscular thigh edging itself closer to her sex. His body rocked hers back and forth, causing sensations to rush through her that she didn’t want to have with Derrick. What on earth was he doing to her? Was he even conscious of what he was doing to her in front of so many people? Surely, his mind had been stolen by the dance. By that moment in time, however, her mind’s eye saw him as Darrius.

Nothing mattered now, she was in this hooligan’s arms and there was nothing she could do about it. She continued to relax against him, knowing he would never hurt her.

The very shirt made in his image was now soaked with sweat, both his and hers, and traces of watermelon were pressed firmly against them both. The outline of her erect nipples poked through the fabric for any and all to see. Only one set of eyes truly saw—the Koshari’s! It was both embarrassing and exhilarating.

Not caring who saw what at this point, the Koshari’s hands touched and rubbed her breasts, making the hardened buds reach to him. Fingers of one hand moved towards her heated core. His thigh inched closer as well, feeling her fire, thirsting for it—wanting to mate with the thick, liquid center and have it drip all over him. He didn’t care who she was, or who she belonged to now. Darrius was but a mere obstacle in the way of attaining pure sexual relief.

Their eyes met again, and only then did she have the common sense to look squarely into the face of the giver. Eyes circled with black paint looked, for some reason, lighter in hue than Derrick’s darker eye color. Was it her imagination, or was she seeing who she really wanted manipulating her? Mind tricks. She glanced to the audience and saw Darrius looking amused.

Casting her attention back to Koshari, she saw tiny laugh lines most unnoticed on Derrick. His full mouth encircled with heavy black paint, but with rosy, full lips aching for the touch of other human skin—hers. His jet hair flowed down his back and across his shoulders in tangled, wet masses, yet illuminated by the arena spotlights. In the thick of dust, heat, wetness and paint, this Koshari managed to look like the epitome of sexual exertion. Justine loved it; she was no longer afraid of being so close to the action.

Those perfect rosy male lips brushed against her cheek as he bent over her, moving in a frenzied dance of copulation, and her limp body followed his rugged, full-body strokes up and down.

He was truly her Darrius. At first, she thought her mind had gone—seeing a man in her arms who was supposed to be in the audience. That explained why he had acted so strange next to her, not wanting to kiss her. Now, the right man definitely wanted to; his jig was up.

The heat of his lips against her cheek and lips fumed her. His sweat-tainted fragrance fueled her, making her thighs part wider for his access. They both wanted it, and in front of everyone. That was the very sad part. She wasn’t into exhibitionism, but with this particular clown, she would do anything to please him—even be made a fool of.

* * *

Koshari stood erect, looked at the crowd and saw their flushed faces. They were all waiting for the next act, the live sex show. But it wasn’t that kind of party, and he was overcome with embarrassment. He lowered Justine to her feet and stared at her. Their bodies were still touching, still emitting a combination of heat, seduction and everything associated with sexuality. His thick manhood tented the garment. His well-contoured chest heaved up and down, expanding muscles and the painted black flowers around his nipples. He asked in a hushed voice, “Are you still afraid, Justine?”

“No,” she replied, her voice low.

“Tell me why?”

“Because I know you.”

“Then who am I?”

“Only one man has lips like yours. Only one man has a speck of blue in one of his light brown eyes. Yes, I noticed that just a minute ago, but you had me fooled for a while. How would I have explained enjoying your brother’s exotic caresses so much? Surely, you saw how my body responded to his; how I relaxed and let him do pretty much anything he wanted to me, and in front of this crowd. I couldn’t have delivered a believable explanation to you, but thankfully I no longer have to.”

“When did you really find out it was me?”

“When I relaxed and went with the flow. Darrius, only one man has a touch like yours. You can seduce me anywhere, any time, day or night.”

“And I plan to, my love. Every chance I get.”

The crowd began to clap and cheer, trying their best to bring Darrius and Justine out of their reverie. It didn’t work. Darrius continued to hold her close, almost whispering. “I didn’t embarrass you too much in the beginning, did I?”

“Sure you did, and I was scared. All I could think of was that poor woman who died during your dance. Did you think of her, too?”

“Only for a few minutes, but when I took you into my arms, nothing else mattered but doing this the right way, and with the right woman.”

“Am I the right woman, Darrius?”

“You know better than to ask me that.”

A smile crept across her paint-smeared face. “What an idiot you are to fool me like this, Darrius. But the worst part was that I kissed your brother thinking he was you.”

“So long as he didn’t like it.”

“He did.”

“Figures. He’s always been a sly fox. Come, let’s join everyone before the natives get even more restless. Oh, but one thing first! I have to complete my mission or I will never be considered a true Koshari dancer.”

“What would that be?” she asked.

He picked up a large bucket of water. “This, but I’ll be glad to dry you off when we get home.”

“Darrius, you better not dare.” She tried to run but he caught her by the shirttail and dowsed her. For good measure, he tossed bits of melon at her. “Now you’re a real victim of the Koshari.”

Darrius returned her to the sideline, back to his brother/partner in crime, and then ran after the squirrel kachina to complete the ceremony.