Читать книгу Payacita - Jeanne Follett - Страница 7

Chapter Two

The Fort

Upon arriving at Mr. Gibbs’ general store, Mother announced sternly, “Payacita, you can jump out now and stretch your legs. But don’t go and bother anyone if you can help it.”

Shamason knew that her daughter could get into some kind of trouble if she wasn’t reminded to pay close attention to where she went and what she would do.

Eager to view the fort’s stores and people, Payacita hopped out of the back of the wagon, and passing by her sister Ninleh, she intentionally flipped her long, braided hair into the air.

“Mother, Payacita just pulled my hair!” exclaimed Ninleh.

“Payacita, Payacita,” Shamson turned around, and hanging the reins up alongside of the buckboard, she began to speak. But Payacita had already disappeared down the sidewalk of the old dirt street. Shamson mumbled to herself, “I should just keep her with me while I trade. I’ll catch up to her later.”

Finally hopping down, she wiped her brow with an old handkerchief that she kept in her pocket. Then she dusted off her long broom shirt and shoes. The other daughters could also be seen doing the same thing. After all, being at the fort meant for all of them the pleasure of visiting with others who were arriving there to bring pleasure to all of them. They could hardly contain their excitement.

The girls were given the task of corralling the sheep down into the holding pens at the end of the fort. Ninleh was directed to count out loud to the livestock trader the number of sheep that would pass into the area and to ask for a fair price for them. Then the girls were asked to return to the wagon where their mother was waiting. While they were there, they would help her unload the rest of the wagon for Mr. Gibbs.

Meanwhile, Payacita was seen running through the fort by several individuals. She ran by the telegraph office, stopping briefly to stick her head into the window, letting out a loud whistle, scaring the telegraph worker to death. She skipped past the infirmary, blowing kisses to the patients that she saw sitting outside on its raised platform deck. Then she found herself stopping to look back toward the gate’s entrance. There she had seen a small puppy staked out near its opening and wondered, wondered who it belonged to and why it had been left alone. She decided to walk over there for a short visit.

Payacita was like a small whirlwind. She moved so quickly through the fort at times it seemed her small feet could hardly keep up with her. This was partly because she was so excited, thinking of the puppy she was about to visit, and partly because she was just a young child, full of energy, inquisitive about the adventurous world that surrounded her.

You see, these were new times in an old world. Before Fort Wingate became a central trading center on what’s known as the “Old Camino Real”, the native tribes were forced to trade among each other or with passing wagons that were new settlers who had chosen to go forth to conquer the Wild West. The “people of the Diné, Navajo,” were pleased to exchange their goods for other things that could make their lives easier. But being a noble culture of surviving nomadic often meant that the work was very hard. The sheep and goats that they raised were essential for their existence. Without them, they could lose the art of the great mysteries that inspired them to weave and the gift of being able to tell stories in the designs of the rugs and blankets.

These woven items were renowned for their beauty, created, in part, by the ancestors. As the seasons changed, travels to different watering holes would bring them closer to other clans. There was the clan of the “bear”, those who were of the “stars and wind”, and always the “sun and earth mother” clan. And never were the “medicine beings” forgotten. These were the beings that taught of spirit and of the medicines of “spirit beings.” “Spirit beings” live in each and every one of us. This is the magic of the “blue butterfly dreams,” at least to Payacita and the belief of her mother.

Many early mornings would arrive, and the young girl would crawl into her mother’s bed and lay next to her, telling her of the beautiful blue butterfly that would visit her in the night. But always Payacita was left questioning its flight. The reason she oftentimes would make up endings to the dreams was because, in the dreams, the butterfly never was seen landing. It simply flew around and around, circling Payacita as she walked, or played in what appeared to be an open area. Seeing this in her dream, she knew that it was somewhere close to home, not far from her or her family; and yet it was nowhere that she could yet recognize. This often would bring tears to her early morning awakenings. Which is why she would crawl into her mother’s place of dreams.

There her mother would again say the same old thing, “Wait, my child. I believe that someday the blue butterfly will show you many things. Don’t cry now. Maybe you’ll find answers in the next dream.”

Somehow Payacita always found comfort in this. Only her mother’s love made her feel a sense of being complete. The new world was challenging. Payacita knew in her heart that there was a place where life would end as it had begun; a place filled with hope. She continued to believe in herself and to believe that in all life around her, there is purpose and meaning.

Payacita stopped briefly to look inside the barber’s shop window. She found it silly that the soldiers were so shorthaired. As she turned to leave the barber’s front window, she noticed outside its front door opening on the boardwalk that there was a giant red-and-white like pole. She was tempted to approach it and take a swing around it. As she geared up her run toward the pole, a man just at that moment began to ascend up the stairway from the street. She accidentally caught with the topside of her shoulder his sleeve.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry, little soldier?”

“Whoa,” she said as she abruptly caught herself flying around the pole in full swing then stopping, holding on still with her little hands, balancing on the roadside steps on her tip toes. “Little, little, soldier,” she exclaimed, raising her voice. “Do I look like a little soldier? Do you see yellow stripes on my soft, clothed sleeves? Do you see yellow painted stripes running down the sides of my nizhoni, beautiful new skirt that my grandmother, the Shanasani, has made for me? You see”—she pulled her skirt forwarded in a swing—“that I am wearing here today? No, I think not. I am the daughter of a brave warrior. His father was a great medicine man.”

“It’s just a term of endearment when I call you li’l soldier!” stated the man.

“A what?” spoke up Payacita, dragging out the sound of the A. “Hmm, this is something to think about,” she slowly stated to him as she now in a slower pace moved toward the soldier, swaying her whole body, with her hands on her hips. She went on to ask, “What does this mean?”

The soldier then replied, “Why, term of endearment,” pausing for a moment, not sure he really wanted to engage this conversation any further. Oh well, he thought, I have a few minutes yet. What would it hurt to take time to talk to this mischievous child? “It means I like you!”

“You like me, you don’t even know me!” said Payacita now, looking up, square into the soldier’s eyes, at the same time grabbing on to his shining US military-issued belt buckle. Then she pulled herself upward so she could continue to speak. By now she had also made her way onto the top of his boots with her tiny feet, and the soldier was now looking downward at her.

“My, you have such beautiful brown-button-colored eyes. Do you know they twinkle when you speak?” commented the soldier.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they? My father says that they are the same as the beauty of the brown cubs that are born in the spring.”

Somehow, with a daring tone in her voice, that might differ with the soldier’s belief.

“I believe he is right.” But he didn’t accept the dare in her voice; he took time to think. At that moment he knew that she was a handful at best.

Payacita, her energy once again rising, also had taken a moment to think.

“Well, Mister, what is it that you said, a term of endearment?”

“Term of endearment,” the soldier repeated. “It means I like you!”

“You like me,” Payacita said. “You don’t even know me,” she declared with a huff in her voice.

“No, I don’t know you, but when I saw your twinkling eyes and that smile on your face, and you were in such a hurry, you reminded me of my puppy I have tied up at the other side of the fort.” The soldier pointed toward the gates. “I staked him out so that he wouldn’t run away. He is so cute I can’t help but like him. Why shouldn’t I like you?”

“You mean to say I look like a dog, Commissary Master?” Payacita, raising her voice, exclaimed.

“Why, no, I don’t mean you look like a dog, and how did you know that I was the commissary master?” Now he was looking down at her, raising his bushy eyebrows.

Payacita said, “Because I saw you at the storefront when we came through the gate, and you were handing out what looked to me like something good to eat. How do I remind you of that puppy?” she insisted on knowing.

“Well, he’s a swell lil’ guy, lil’ soldier. He thinks for himself, has a lot of energy, and likes to play. It seems to me that you’re the same kind of little girl, rushing down this sidewalk, in such a hurry with that big smile on your face.”

By now Payacita was putting together her own thoughts about this man and his puppy. After all, she was on the way down to see that pup, anyways.

“Mister,” she was hesitating to say, “why is it that you have that puppy staked, especially if you say you have that term of endearment for him?”

The soldier responded, “Because like you, he’s full of energy, and if I am working and he goes off and gets into some trouble, I’d have to get rid of him probably. I sure would miss him!”

“You would?” asked Payacita.

“Why, sure, I would. I brought him here all the way from Albuquerque!”

Payacita had longed for a puppy of her own for some time now. The dogs that were back at home were used to help work: rounding up the sheep and watching over them when needed. Her father had told her that perhaps in the spring he would bring her one, the father being hopeful that a puppy would keep Payacita out of trouble. Many times she was known to be found at quite a distance from the hogan. Sometimes she would be seen far out in the canyons, and at the red rock cliffs you could hear her singing to the ravens, or just seeing how far she could throw a stick into the cliffs. “Perhaps a dog could alarm us if she ever did get into trouble,” the father would tell Bah, Payacita’s mom.

The commissary master was a tall, lanky man. His hair was kept tucked under his blue military hat, but it was a little longer in the back. As the years would pass, what Payacita would remember was the color of his hair; it was red. Also that he talked with a funny accent. It turned out he was Irish. But most of all, she would remember he made her feel special.

Payacita became quiet. Her mind began to drift off from what the soldier was speaking. She was daydreaming about having her own puppy. She then remembered her mother saying, “Be careful who you speak to at the fort because there are good spirit beings and bad.” So she decided to ask him his name.

“Commissary Master, what is your name?”

“My name is Sidney,” with a chuckle he said.

“Sidney, what kind of a name is that?”

“It’s an old family name. I am named after my father. His was the same.”

“Sure is a funny name,” she whispered to herself.

Sidney said, “I told you my name. Now what is yours?”

“My name is Payacita,” she said, looking him square in the eye, waiting for him to laugh.

“What does that mean?” he wanted to know.

He thought it was a beautiful name.

“It means, little clown.”

“Well, that suits you. You are a little clown.”

She went on to explain that it was just a nickname, that one day she and her sisters were at the old mission school; and what was to become in later times known as the Franciscan friars, came out to see them, and all she could do was laugh and roll around on the ground at them. The shoes with straps on them were funny for her to see. Also, it was almost unbearable to see men dressed in dressed like outfits, with ropes tied around their waists.

Payacita became more comfortable about talking to the stranger. Now they knew each other’s names. She began talking about her grandmother, the Shininsani, the family dogs and sheep, about the night sky and how she loved to lay out under the stars and count them. Whenever she saw a falling star, she loved to pretend that the ravens were making their way from the heavens special for her to see.

Sidney knew that she wanted his attention, but it was time to move on to do other things. He was trying to think of a way in which they could go their own ways without hurting her sweet feelings. He then remembered that the conversation started with her letting him know that she had seen him coming out of the commissary store.

“Payacita, I have to get going now, but how about an apple that I happened to just have here in my bag?” He opened up his pouch and pulled out a beautiful green apple.

Handing it to her, he said, “Enjoy the apple. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

Payacita opened up her small hand, and he placed it gently into it.

She looked at it and said, “What is that?”

“It is a piece of fruit, and it grows on trees.” Smiling down at her, he said, “Go ahead and take a bite. You’ll like it!”

Payacita bit into the apple. Immediately the juice from the bite dripped down her chin.

“That’s good, Sidney, but something is caught in my tooth!” She then began to pick at her teeth.

“It’s the seed of the apple that makes it grow!” Hum, he mumbled, wondering why she had never had an apple before, just a thought. At that moment he said goodbye, reached out to shake her hand, and hers his.

“See you later, Commissary Master,” she said, speaking while she chewed the apple. As she began to run down the boardwalk, she suddenly remembered the puppy. She turned quickly back to see Sidney, yelling at him, “Can I go and play with your puppy?”

He pulled back his hat, thought for a moment while scratching his head, and responded, “Yes, you may, but don’t get into any trouble together!”

Before he knew it, he could hear her off in the distance, running and saying, “We won’t.”

Turning around to walk toward the post office, her voice faded, and he simply gave her a wave and continued on.

Payacita skipped her way along the different side roads and boardwalks through the fort. On occasion she would take another bite of the apple. With each bite, she grew closer and closer to the puppy. Soon the pup was in her site. She stopped for a moment upon seeing him and put her hands out with a sigh. Could this be the puppy of her dreams? Probably not, but nonetheless, she was happy to be able to go with permission to visit him.

With each bite of the apple she grew slowly closer and closer. Soon the puppy saw her. The puppy began to wag his tail. As she approached him, she lowered herself slowly down to him. He was so excited to see her—someone to give him attention—as she knelt down to him, he accidentally pushed her down on her bottom. She laughed, and he licked her face and ears. She hugged the pup, and looking into his eyes, she saw that he had one blue eye and one brown one. She knew that her Shininsani had said that if you ever see an animal with different-colored eyes that they are to be respected because they are medicine beings.

She continued playing on the ground for a while with the puppy. Then she told the puppy that it was a special medicine being and that they had to find Sidney and let him know. So Payacita untied the pup, and together they ran through the fort. The Payacita and the pup skipped, hopped, and fell over each other. As the pup would tug at her broom skirt, she would only laugh harder.

Anyway, they were back at the other end of the fort, where the commissary master had left her earlier. By then, they had worked up quite a thirst.

Payacita looked at the puppy and said, “We better get a drink of water before we see Sidney. My mouth is so dry I won’t be able to talk to him. Looks like you’re pretty thirsty too.”

Payacita looked around. Across the street in front of the infirmary was a water travah. They let some horses with riders pass and then hurried across the street. Payacita looked at the latell that hung above it. She dipped it in the water and first gave a drink to the puppy. Then she put the latell up to her mouth, and as she began to drink, a strong hold of someone’s hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, kicking the small pup into the middle of the dirt road that quietly sat at her feet. When the pup hit the ground, it rolled and made a horrible cry. Payacita was stunned. Never had she experienced such a thing. She remembered that the elders used to sit around at times and speak of these kinds of encounters with the white men.

The man went on to yell at her, “Injuns don’t drink out of the white man’s watering tanks. Go somewhere else!”

Payacita began to cry. She was scared and pulled her arm, now being held tightly by the stranger, away and began running and crying over to the pup. The pup was hurt and just laid there. By now other people from the fort were gathering around the watering tank. They were laughing, some spitting at her and the pup. Well, little to her surprise, at the same time all this started to happen, Sidney had just walked out of the post office; and to his horror, there laid on the street his pup, and he saw Payacita kneeling over him. Before Payacita knew it, Sidney had reached the man. He proceeded to pick him straight up into the air and dump him upside down into the tank. He was so angry his face turned as red as his hair, some would say. After almost drowning him, he pulled him upward and then hammered the top of his head with the ladle.

Then he yelled at him, “If I ever catch you near that little girl or puppy again, I am going to kill you, do you understand?” By now Payacita had the puppy lying on her lap and was sitting in the middle of the street, rocking him, telling him it’ll be okay. Being so afraid, she was shaking. Sidney looked at her and hurried to their side. “Oh Payacita, are you all right?” he asked, picking her and the pup up off the ground and holding them both in his arms. “It’s okay, you’ll both be fine. He won’t ever hurt you or the pup again, I promise.”

Payacita hugged the pup and kissed its head. “My mother is over at Mr. Gibbs’. I guess I’d better go back there. She’s probably waiting. I am sorry, Sidney. Do you think that he will be better soon?”

“Yes, Payacita. The next time you come back to the fort, come and see me. You and the puppy can play all you want. I am sorry this happened to you both.”

Brushing the dirt off of her bottom, she looked at Sidney, and he wiped her eyes with his old handkerchief. She then was off and running, going back to her mother who kept her safe. She said nothing of this to her. The visit to the fort was not as fun as she thought it would be.