A Kachina Dance Read online

  How beautifully they move in the blazing light, the eagle feathers flying. As though someone sleeps near us, we scarcely mutter a sound as the chanting deepens. The sun’s heat strengthens. The hours pass. The Mudheads follow the primal steps of the ancient ones. The singing, the drumming, the rhythm, the people…we are all one now. All hypnotized together as time proceeds.

  I turn slightly to look at Jay and see that he is mouthing some of the chant. He catches my eye and smiles. I feel a shiver, he’s so darn disarming. I must have given him a Cheshire grin because the next thing I know he has his arm around me. Oh yeah, my body is waking up!

  The July heat is a vicious heat. A strangling heat. A blistering heat. Around noon the dancers leave the plaza to rest. Bundles of corn stalks with gifts tied to them for the local families suddenly appear; to the children a hand carved Kachina to remember their heritage and to teach the story of the Kachina is given.

  The sun burns down. Two clowns, dressed as Hano, come to entertain, eating watermelon and spitting their seeds out to make the children laugh. Our little ledge, now under the sun, is sweltering; there is no mercy. We decide to leave, making room for late comers.

  “I should have remembered to bring sunscreen,” I say looking at my red arms. “Sunburn or not, that was incredible. Thank you so much for making me a part of it. Will they dance all day?”

  “Yes. The women have been cooking all night so there will be a lot of celebrating. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I haven’t been to a home dance in years. It was good for me to be here, too.” He gives me his slight smile and takes my hand. “The Kachina brings harmony of good thought and deed, harmony for the earth. The Hopi ceremonies are for the reverence and peace of the whole world.”

  I give him a wide grin. “Didn’t you say yesterday on your tour, Hopi meant ‘The Peaceful People’?”

  “Hmm, ‘Peaceful Little Ones’.”

  “Yes, harmony and peace are what I’m feeling. I read somewhere that in the Hopi dictionary the word Hopi means ‘one who is civilized, mannered, peaceful, polite and adheres to the Hopi way.’ Or something close to that.”

  “At one time the word Hopi was synonymous with peace and the Pueblo peoples. We’ve always respected all things and are in accord with all things, which is our way.”

  “Maybe that’s why I wasn’t looked on as an interloper today. Although I’m sure being with you had more to do with it.”

  “We are really a very hospitable people if you respect our ways. I had nothing to do with it. You abided by what was expected. Now, where should we eat? Or maybe I should ask what do you want to do next and then I’ll know where I can take you to eat?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to work this afternoon? Oh, super…in that case…I’d love to visit Hopi artists that sell their work. I was hoping to buy some carved Kachinas, maybe some baskets, and some pottery for myself. The buyer in the museum shop asked me to pick up some samples of things that she thought might sell in NYC. Does that sound OK? I was going to do this on my own except I was going to go to shops. Since you know artists, you could take me to the best people. Oh, and last but not least, I want to see your paintings. Please don’t frown; we don’t have to do any of it, except see your paintings.”

  “Kate, you sound like you’re still running on New York time. How about trying Hopi time?”

  “Do I sound that wound up? Why don’t we just go to eat, you pick the place, and we can talk.”

  So we head to the main highway and find a little luncheonette on the side of the road that serves Hopi tacos and tostadas. I order eggs, toast and coffee. Jay settles on piki bread with noqkwivi, a lamb stew with hominy, and coffee.

  “I just realized how much coffee Native Americans drink. It’s a scorcher today and everybody in here is drinking hot coffee. If you go to any other part of Arizona, as soon as you go into a restaurant, the waitress comes along and offers you iced tea.”

  He gives that slight smile of his.

  “It’s good to see you smile, you seem to be a serious person. I’m usually out with babbling idiots. I just have to go back to what we spoke of earlier when leaving the home dance. I think to be seen with you accorded me approval at the ceremony today. It showed respect for you.”

  “Me? I hold no prominent place in the community.” He looks at me with a mystified look.

  “You know as well as I do that stature isn’t about elected positions.”

  He shakes his head and takes a swallow of coffee. “Let’s change the subject. Tell me about you. Anyone you’re engaged to? Married to? Divorced from?”

  “No, no, and no” I smile. “I’ve been so busy building a career I haven’t taken time for romance. Now that I’m 31, I’m starting to get worried. I’d like to have a husband and a family…there I said it.”

  “What does an attractive woman like you with a glamorous job in New York have to worry about?”

  “Please ask my mother. She’ll give you a list. My biological clock is ticking, she’d be sure to tell you. Now, I’d like to change the subject. What ideas do you have for this afternoon?”

  “I had thought we could ride up into the mountains and I could show you sites you wouldn’t see in the tour books.”

  “Oh, that sounds perfect. I was going to ask you to take me to the mountains but then…”

  “What?” He cocks his head.

  “Well, you know, I thought I was just being too pushy… New York pushy.” I laugh.

  “Ok, so that’s settled.”

  “But what about seeing your paintings?”

  “Let’s save that for tomorrow.” He grins and I feel all tingly.

  “Tomorrow? You mean you won’t be working tomorrow? We’ll have another day together?”

  “Yeah, I have a friend covering for me this weekend. As far as the week, I’ll have to work till 5:00. But I can take you to see artists then, if that’s what you want.”

  I must look totally surprised because I am. No guy had ever rearranged his schedule to suit my needs…and this was a guy who made me coffee at dawn to drink while the sun was just starting to blush. I’m sure my mouth must have dropped open.

  “I’m a little overwhelmed at your reshuffling your life to accommodate me; this is something that doesn’t happen to me. If you like being with me that’s great but if its Hopi hospitality, I’d rather be on my own.”

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” His words are as direct as his eyes.

  We leave the café and spend the afternoon high in the mountains. Like the day before it is another day of long, lingering conversation that ranged from philosophy to our favorite music. We stop for some gas, Jay buys some cold beers and chips and we drive to a secluded ridge to watch a breathtaking sunset over the desert.

  “What happened with your divorce?” I ask as we settle under a shady tree.

  “I found my wife cheating on me.”

  “Ouch, how painful.”

  “It wasn’t much of a marriage. See, when I left Manhattan my mother was dying of cancer. She had this wish to see me married before she died. Can you see where this is going?” He gave me that slight smile. “I started seeing this woman I had dated in high school. She had just been jilted by her boyfriend.”

  I make a groaning sound. “Please don’t tell me you married her and then she got back together with her old boyfriend.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Oh, Jay, for a smart guy, that was pretty dumb. Ugh, how could you not see the folly? Did you love her?”

  “No, not really. I was still wet behind the ears. I hadn’t dated much. I wanted to please my mother. It was her dying wish. You see I was the only son that stayed on the rez; my other two brothers left home lookin’ for work and never came back. What can I say?”

  “Just one more question…well, maybe two. Do you have children? And is she from here?”

  “No children and yes, she was Hopi.”

  “The Hopi society is based on matriarchal clans, am I right?”

  “I thoug
ht there were no more questions.” He gives his little smile.

  “Well, OK, I lied. Just one or two more, ple-e-e-e-ase.”

  “Yeah, when a man marries, the children from the union are members of the wife’s clan.”

  “So it’s important that you marry a Hopi woman, right?”

  “Kate, why are you asking me these questions?”

  “No more questions.” I take a deep breath, stand, and walk a few feet. Jay calls to me. “Kate, where are you going?” I continue walking but answer, “I need a time out.” I tell myself this is crazy why do I feel like crying? I’m acting like a moron. I’ve just met the guy 2 days ago. Now I’m upset because I know I’ll never be able to marry him. This is lunacy! Kate, you’re not a schoolgirl or a starry-eyed dreamer. Yet something is pulling me towards him. I turn and look at him sitting against the tree and see how pensively he watches me. I smile and know I should walk back and say something funny or light but I feel like I’m on the verge of tears. “Kate, what’s going on?”

  I turn and shrug my shoulders unable to speak. There’s a lump in my throat. Don’t cry, oh, please don’t cry. He’ll really think you’re nuts but the tears start down my cheeks. I hear footsteps behind me. Oh, shit! Now, what? Wipe the cheeks, hurry. Think of something funny real fast. He’s closin’ in. I feel his hands stop me and he turns me around.

  “What’s spookin’ you, Kate?” He wipes my tears with his fingers.

  “I don’t know, I guess I was asking too many questions. I just got too close.” I can’t look at him yet.

  “Were my answers wrong?” He is playing with my hair. I can feel his warm breathe. I want him to hold me but he waits.

  “Ur…I don’t know…um…no, they weren’t wrong, I guess. But little by little you’re sneaking into my heart,” I say knowing I’m probably blushing. “It’s making me very emotional as you can see.”

  He catches my eye. For the second time in 2 days, Jay looks at me with surprise.

  “I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said this but that’s how you’re affecting me.”

  He pulls me close to him and whispers, “Don’t be sorry.” This is the first time we kiss. Now I don’t usually say, “Wow” when I’ve been kissed but I did that day. The chemistry was perfect. Did I mention, I had never met someone who seemed to touch my soul and this was even before I saw his paintings?

  Chapter 3

  It’s about 9:00 Sunday morning when I reach for my cell phone and call him, knowing he is to pick me up around noon. From his hello I realize I’ve awaken him. When I say I’ve just awakened and am thinking about him, I realize he is smiling. He says he has to clean his place before he picks me up and I have to laugh because it’s such a guy thing. Oh, yesterday I found out he’s 35, a perfect age for me.

  I breakfast in the motel café and try to stay calm. I tell myself slow down; I am here on a two week vacation. I mustn’t start acting like a fool. I’m not the Hopi girl he’ll ever marry. Have a good time but don’t leave your heart. Yet, as soon as I hear his bike and see him from the window all my resolve melts. How could he look so damn cool while I am tied up in knots?

  His apartment/studio is below the 600’ foot Mesa in Polacca, once a potter’s community and now a thriving suburb. As I expected, a true artist pad to be, it is a place where you spend more for art materials then you do for personal luxuries, like food. There is no TV, computer, microwave, AC, not even a fan. But there is an easel, paint in tubes and quart jars, rolls of canvas, brushes in all sizes, and drawing materials that are neatly stacked in a corner, for my benefit I’m sure. Leaning against the bed are six of his paintings that take my breath away.

  I walk to them directly. The sunlight coming through the window is excellent for viewing. I sit on the floor and look at each one slowly. Jay says something but I shhh him away, I want total quiet to concentrate. Twenty minutes or more pass before I speak.

  “Jay, I am saying this as a professional who has seen a lot of good art work, these paintings belong in a gallery, they are exquisite. Now, I am saying this as Kate, if I could paint, this is how I would have captured the feelings of the canyons, the colors, the abstractions, the texture…brilliant! I am blown away.”

  Jay had by this time poured two cups of coffee and seated himself beside me on the floor. He smiles his half smile. “Nobody’s ever reacted like that to my work.”

  “Let me bring slides of your paintings back to Manhattan and I’m sure you’ll get reactions like mine.”

  “Well, these six are actually going to an exhibition in Santa Fe next week. So I’m hoping I can sell them in that market.”

  “You’ll only have to worry about selling five because I’d like to buy this one. It captures the spirit of yesterday and will always remind me of you. You can keep it in the show and mail it to me later. I’ll give you a check now.”

  “I don’t want a check.”

  “OK, I can give you cash, I’ll just have to go to a bank and cash travelers checks.”

  “No, I don’t want money. If you want the painting, it’s yours.”

  “That isn’t fair to you. We’ve only met. You deserve the money.”

  “Why do you think money is so important? I’m pleased you enjoy my work and it gives me pleasure to give you one. If it reminds you of me, I’m gratified. It is my gift to you.” A tiny smile was barely discernible.

  I want to argue more but he begins kissing me and well, one thing leads to another and soon we are making love. Now, I’m not a girl who’s slept with a lot of guys, in fact, I could count them on one hand but Jay is amazing. “Your ex must have been crazy to leave you for somebody else.” That comment seems to score points for me.

  Later he takes me back to the motel. I ask if he wants to come in and he surprises me by saying yes. He stays the night and we make more fantastic love. I was right about his hands; they are remarkable. It seems they have extraordinary powers once they touch my body. I keep telling myself I can’t fall in love; he needs a Hopi woman for his children. Besides, we live in two very different worlds. But I know the damage has been done.

  ***

  It’s nice waking up with someone I still cared about in the morning, another first for me. As we eat breakfast in the cafe, Jay asks softly, “Do you usually moan so much when you make love?”

  I gasp, totally surprised. I must be as red as the tomato juice I’m drinking because my cheeks are burning. I see his little smile. “Uh, no…I don’t know if I ever…ur… have before. Was this a problem?” I suddenly feel very shy and I look down at the blue pancakes I’m eating. Oh, they’re made from Hopi corn.

  I think to myself, did anyone else hear me? Was I distracting? Did he find it too…go ahead and say it…slutty? I frown, thinking of all the negatives. He’s so serious, I don’t know what to think.

  “No problem.” He takes my hand. “What are you planning today?”

  “Well, I was supposed to check out of here this morning and head to Sedona. I guess I’ll just make plans to stay the week.” I look up at him teasingly. “That is, if you don’t mind having a moaner around.”

  “No, check out. I want you to stay with me. If you don’t have a lot to pack, we can do it all before I have to be back for the first tour.”

  “Are you sure?” No guy ever asked me to live with him...even if it was for only a week or two.

  “I’m sure, are you?”

  “Oh, yes…I can pack in ten minutes. I’ll follow you over in the rental car. I’d like to keep that for things I want to do while you’re working.”

  So, that’s what we do. Before Jay leaves for work, he kisses me deeply and says, “I don’t want to leave you.” The look on his face says so much. He kisses me again.

  “Is this a problem?”

  “Could be, little moaner. You’re making me fall in love with you.”

  “Oh, no! Don’t blame this on me. You started the whole thing. Why are you so darn incredible? This is crazy, we’ve only known each other a few days…�
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  He kisses me again so I can’t finish, grabs his keys, gives me that smile and closes the door. I lean on the door with a sigh. He’s so calm, so composed, and so sexy.

  I run to the window and watch him ride away on his bike and smile. Could this be real? More importantly could this be happening to me? Things like this only happen to other people or in the movies. I stand around feeling totally bewildered. Did he just say he was falling in love with me? I feel my heart pounding in my chest. He did say it, right? Suddenly I do a victory dance around the apartment singing; “I’ve got a boyfriend, shah-nah-nah” to a Motown beat a couple of times.

  After the seventh grade mentality passes, I caution myself to realize this can only be a summer romance, a two week love affair, nothing beyond. Kate, I tell myself, live these two weeks to the ultimate and relish every second he enfolds you in his arms. When you leave, pack your suitcase full of passionate memories not bitter regrets. Yeah, right, like this is going to happen. I’ll be crying all the way back to New York.

  I unpack and take a quick survey of the studio. It’s even worse than I had suspected. The only food, I use the term loosely, is a can of coffee, a few bottles of soda, and a jar of peanut butter. Now it’s off to the store. I manage to buy enough to do some damage. There are the cleaning supplies, groceries…lots of fresh fruits and vegetables…some matching glasses, some pretty plates, a coffee machine, a frying pan, a fan…and yes, a microwave…it was on sale. If you want a woman you have to take her accessories, end of story!

  The shopping takes me most of the afternoon but I do manage to do some cleaning. Why do guys think bathrooms are self-cleaning? I had a brother, they’re all the same. You’d think someone who could see the beauty in nature and capture it on canvas could see mold on the shower tile. Ya think?

  By the time I scrubbed the bathroom, there was only time to put my dainty toes into the shower and wash quickly and dress. Supper is going to be a salad and an omelet cooked on the hot plate. I can’t spring for a stove today!