Gardens in the Dunes Read Online Free PDF Page A

woman’s feet. She watched Sister Salt’s feet. They were careful to drag their feet lightly along the ground to keep themselves in touch with Mother Earth. They were moving from right to left because that was the path followed by the sun. Wovoka wanted them to dance because dancing moves the dead. Only by dancing could they hope to bring the Messiah, the Christ, who would bring with him all their beloved family members and friends who had moved on to the spirit world after the hunger and the sadness got to be too much for them. The invaders made the Earth get old and want to die.
    Indigo wondered what the ancestors looked like—Mama’s sisters and brothers, Grandma Fleet’s teenage husband, and Mama’s little baby that died. Around and around they went, singing about the snow: “The snowlies there,” they sang, “the snow lies there. The Milky Way lies there, the Milky Way lies there.” Indigo looked up at the stars that were the road of the dead to the spirit world. She thought she could detect faint movement on the path of stars.
    The dancers stopped to rest after the first song. Indigo and Sister Salt sat down with their backs against the windbreak, where the fire kept off the night’s chill. Warm water and handfuls of piñons were passed from dancer to dancer; Sister Salt looked at her but did not speak. When Indigo opened her mouth to ask about Mama and Grandma Fleet, Sister Salt shook her head.
    More wood was fed to the fire as the dancers joined for the second song. The Paiute woman told Indigo the words to the second song, but Indigo was not sure if she heard the words correctly. Why sing, “The black rock, the black rock,” when they were dancing on white river sand? Why sing, “The rock is broken, the rock is broken”? Indigo was tired now, and the singing voices were so loud she couldn’t be sure what the Paiute woman said. Later on she would ask Sister Salt about everything that happened. Indigo kept singing with the others; she was cozy and warm with Sister Salt on one side and the Paiute woman on the other. “The black rock, the black rock, the black rock is broken”; she sang it and saw it with her eyes closed. “The black rock is broken and from it pours clear fresh water that runs in little streams everywhere.”
    When Indigo opened her eyes again, she was covered with the quilt, alone in the lean-to; dozens of dancers circled the fire; the flames leaped high, crackling and popping loudly. “The wind stirs the willows,” they sang, “the wind stirs the grasses.” She wanted to see the Christ and his family arrive; they were coming from far away and would arrive just before dawn. She was so comfortable she wanted to sleep a little more. When she woke again, Indigo heard Mama’s voice and Grandma Fleet’s voice; Sister Salt was talking too, but when she opened her eyes, she saw strange figures wrapped in white. Then she remembered the dancers and the white clay paint.
    â€œMama! We couldn’t find you!” Indigo called out.
    â€œShe’s awake.” Indigo heard Sister Salt’s voice. A dancer in a white robe approached. Mama didn’t look like herself with the strange white paint on her face and her hands, but Indigo had never seen her look so happy. She knelt down and held Indigo’s face between her hands.
    â€œYou should see yourself,” she said. “Grandma Fleet and I thought we’dnever find you girls.” They had to get ready because the Christ would arrive soon. Grandma Fleet had to urinate so they all went to the tamarisks to relieve themselves. Indigo pulled the shawl close to herself against the cold. The wind was increasing; clouds moved rapidly across the sky, so the light of the moon was partially obscured. As they returned to the circle the dancers were taking their places; everyone was whispering in excited voices, “He’s here! He’s