Unnatural Mayhem, page 28
Silent, Mr. Mayhem and I moved on to the next two branches. Then the next two. Until we’d created a dome-like structure over the fresh pit, displaced dirt set aside to create an altar for the Holy Ones.
Mr. Mayhem weaved horizontal branches with vertical ones, and Shicheii and I worked alongside him. While we built the sweat lodge, shaped like a dome to represent the womb and remain in harmony with the environment, my grandfather told the traditional story of creation.
“The Diné entered the First World—Ni’hodilhil—a world of darkness. From this Dark World, the Diné began a journey of emergence. The First World had four corners, and over these corners appeared four clouds, all colored. Mourning Dove, what colors were these clouds?”
I took a shot that they’d align with tradition. “Black, white, blue, and yellow?”
“Very good, child.” Cheeks dimpling, he rubbed my outer arms. “The Black Cloud represented the Female Being or Substance. For as a child sleeps while nursing, life slept in the darkness of the Female Being. The White Cloud symbolized the Male Being or Substance.” He returned to the construction, bending, securing, and weaving the willow branches. “If Female Being was darkness, Male Being was…?”
I guessed, “Light?”
“What kind of light?”
“Dawn.”
“Correct. Watching you blossom is so special for me.” Shicheii stopped working long enough to palm the scratches on my face, but he never asked where or how I got them. “Male Being was the Dawn or Light Witch Awakens. The East, where Black Cloud met White Cloud, birthed First Man. And with him came white corn, perfect in shape and size, kernels covering his whole ear. Dohonotini is the name of this first corn seed, and it’s also the name of the place where Black Cloud and White Cloud first met.”
While he weaved another horizontal branch with a vertical, I mimicked his movements. “The First World was not spacious. It looked more like a floating island in mist or water. On the First World grew one tree—a lone conifer—later brought to the present world for firewood. Man, however, did not exist in present form.”
To simplify the story, Mr. Mayhem said, “Because they had no physical form, we called them Mist People. Soon, they would become man and woman, beasts, birds, and reptiles.”
“Thank you, Cheveyo. That’s an important clarification. On the western side of the First World—a place that would later become the Land of Sunset—Blue Cloud stood across from Yellow Cloud. The spot where they first came together birthed First Woman, and with her came yellow corn, white shell, turquoise, and the yucca. If First Woman stood in the West, First Man stood where?”
Easy one. “In the East.”
“Very good, child. First Man burned a crystal for fire. This crystal belonged to the male and symbolized the mind of clear seeing.”
“The ability to see the forest for the trees,” Mr. Mayhem clarified, “along with foresight.”
To thank him, Shicheii gave him a quick dip of the chin. “If First Man was the Life Giver, First Woman was…?”
Stunned, I guessed, “Death?”
“Darkness and Death. Correct.” He winked at me. “While First Man burned his crystal, First Woman burned turquoise. And because one stood in the East, the other in the West, they could see each other’s light in the distance. When Black Cloud and White Cloud rose higher in the sky, First Man set out to find the turquoise light. The first three times, he failed in his pursuit. Then he broke a forked branch from his tree and looked through the V-like space, narrowing in on the turquoise fire. The fourth time he set out, he discovered smoke billowing from a home.”
Mr. Mayhem slung the first blanket over the top of the dome. “The home of the First Woman.”
The entire local murder acted entranced by my grandfather’s sultry voice, or by this story. Aside from Poe, an unspoken connection bonded me to them, like we’d survived the war together and emerged as one family unit.
“While First Man was searching for First Woman,” Shicheii said, snapping my attention away from the crows, “she too was searching for his light. And like First Man, her first three attempts ended in failure. The fourth time she set out, she spotted smoke coming from the home of First Man, and she noticed the crystal fire burned brighter and stronger than her turquoise. When the two finally met, they engaged in a pleasant conversation, explaining their journey to find one another. Until First Man said, ‘Why do you not come with your fire and we will live together?’ First Woman agreed. Unlike the custom today, she went to him.”
Not sure what that meant, but I let it slide. My grandfather was old school.
Shicheii slung a quilted blanket down one side of the sweat lodge, and I grabbed another from the pile. “Around this time, another male being arrived. Great-Coyote-Who-Was-Formed-in-the-Water told the couple he hatched from an egg and knew all that was under the water and all that was in the skies. Because of his knowledge, First Man placed Great-Coyote-Who-Was-Formed-in-the-Water ahead of himself in all things.”
Draping an animal hide over the dome, he continued the story, and my gaze traveled back to the crows. Mr. Mayhem caught me admiring them and winked. Yeah, yeah, if he thought my newfound attraction for corvids meant I’d forgive Poe, he had another thing coming.
“While these three beings planned the future, another being came to them. He wore a hairy coat, lined with white fur that fell to his knees, and belted at the waist. His name was First Angry or Coyote, and he told them, ‘You believe you were the first persons. You are mistaken. I was already alive.’ Four other beings came together as the Wasp People because of their yellow coloring. Wasp People knew the secret of shooting evil and could harm others. Powerful people.”
“In case you’ve lost count, Cat,”—Mr. Mayhem added more blankets and hides to the roof—“the Wasp People made eight beings in total.”
“Thank you, Cheveyo. Soon, four more beings arrived. These small beings wore red shirts and had little black eyes. They were the red or spider ants, and they could sting. Nonetheless, they were great people. After them came a crowd of beings. Dark colored with thick lips and dark, protruding eyes—black ants, who also knew the secrets of shooting evil, but they also killed each other. A multitude of little creatures arrived. Peaceful and harmless, they emitted a foul odor. And so, they were called wolazhini nichu nigi.”
Mr. Mayhem stoked the fire. “Wolazhini nichu nigi means, ‘that which emits an odor.’”
My gaze bounced between my two teachers, trying to absorb and retain this important life lesson. But then, a flash of red caught in my peripheral, and I whirled toward the forest. What was that? Tingles shimmied down my spine. Did the Natural World have an animal with red eyes?
“Cheveyo is correct, Mourning Dove,” my grandfather said, diverting my attention back to constructing the sweat lodge. “After the Wasps and the different Ant People arrived, along came the beetles, dragonflies, Bat People, the Spider Man and Spider Woman, and the Salt Man and Salt Woman. None had a definitive form. I mention them to show how crowded the First World became. The People quarreled and fought with each other. And because of the strife in the First World, First Man, First Woman, the Great-Coyote-Who-Was-Formed-in-the-Water, and the Coyote called First Angry, followed by all the others, climbed up from the World of Darkness and Dampness to the Second or Blue World.”
While Mr. Mayhem dipped inside the lodge to build the altar, Shicheii explained how the Blue World housed blue birds, blue hawks, blue jays, blue herons, and all the blue-feathered beings.
“The powerful Swallow People also lived there,” he said, “and these People made the Second World unpleasant for those who came from the First World. Fighting and killing ensued. And soon, The First Four found an opening in the World of Blue Haze. The bluebird was the first to reach the Third or Yellow World before the First Four and the others climbed through. A great river crossed the land from North to South, called the Female River. Another river crossed it from East to West. Mourning Dove, keeping harmony and balance in mind, what was the name of this river?”
Another easy one. “The Male River.”
“Very good, honey. The Male River flowed through the Female River at tqo alna’osdli, the Crossing of the waters.” Shicheii told me about the six mountains in the Third World, explaining each in detail. “No sun in this land, only the two rivers and six mountains. And these were not in their present form. Rather, their substance was more like First Man, First Woman, and the others.”
I helped him lug seven lava rocks—the shape and size of human heads—to the firepit. During this, he explained how a Turquoise Hermaphrodite lived in the East beyond one mountain.
“Known as Turquoise Boy,” he said. “Near him grew the Male Reed. Farther in the East lived the Mirage or Agate People, along with twelve beings called the Naaskiddi. Beyond their home lived four others—Holy Man, Holy Woman, Holy Boy, and Holy Girl.”
A spark lit the blaze in my mind, my skin tingling with excitement. “I remember them, Shicheii.”
“Of course you do, honey.” A quick flash of his perfect teeth before veering back into teaching mode. “In the West lived White Shell Hermaphrodite or Girl, and with her was the big Female Reed, which grew at the water’s edge without a tassel.”
Did reeds normally have tassels? I didn’t dare ask while my grandfather continued the story, telling me about all the other People in the Third World, including light and dark squirrels, chipmunks, mice, rats, Turkey People, Deer People, Cat People, Spider People, lizards, and snakes.
“Beaver People lived along the rivers with frogs and turtles and all the Underwater People. All the People looked similar. With no definite form, they gained names through characteristics. At this time, the plan was to plant. First Man called the People together and brought forth the white corn. First Woman brought yellow corn. They each laid the perfect ears side by side and asked one of the many People to come and help. Turkey answered the call and danced back and forth four times across the ears, then shook his feathers, dropping four kernels of corn—one gray, one blue, one black, one red. Big Snake also dropped four seeds—the pumpkin, watermelon, cantaloupe, and muskmelon.”
After detailing the troubles and hardships of the Third World, he added the final blanket to the door of the sweat lodge and explained how a great flood forced the People into the Fourth World through a tunnel in the Male Reed created by the woodpecker.
“After all the People had emerged from the lower worlds”—Shicheii faced me, the jish pouch dangling from his neck, deep brown eyes tunneling into mine, telling me to pay attention— “First Man and First Woman dressed the Mountain Lion in yellow, black, white, and grayish corn, and placed him on one side. They dressed the Wolf with white tail feathers and placed him on the other side.”
With my spine melting from his all-consuming spiritual presence, my complete focus was on this story—my story, my ancestors’ story, an important story for all our People.
“They divided the People into two groups. The first group chose whichever chief they wished. But, although they thought they chose the Mountain Lion, they really chose the Wolf. Mountain Lion stayed as chief for the other group. Those with the Mountain Lion chief became Earth Surface People, who planted seeds and harvested corn. Followers of the Wolf chief became animals and birds and all the creatures that fly and crawl, run and swim.”
Mr. Mayhem ducked out of the sweat lodge. “Ready when you are, Jacy Lee.”
“Thank you, Cheveyo.” Shicheii framed my face in his palms. “I’ve shared the story of creation to ground you in who you are, sweet Mourning Dove, who you were always meant to be. Do you have questions before we start?”
I had many but only asked one. “What’s the purpose of this sweat?”
“All will be revealed inside. Why don’t you go change, and Cheveyo and I will meet you inside.”
The last time they urged me into a sweat lodge, they shattered all I’d ever known. What’d they want to tell me now?
Chapter Thirty-Five
“When you know who you are—
when your mission is clear, and you burn with the inner fire of unbreakable will—
no cold can touch your heart,
no deluge can dampen your purpose.
You know that you are alive.”
—Chief Seattle
10 a.m.
Once Shawnee darted inside the cabin, Jacy Lee passed Mayhem a towel, and he stripped down. “Did you identify the claw marks?”
“There’s too much animal activity to pinpoint the fatal wound. Did you harm the man in the photo?”
“No.”
Jacy Lee patted his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Cheveyo. Thank you for spending time with my granddaughter. It means a lot to both of us. She looks up to you.”
“I appreciate the opportunity to help shape her.” He hesitated, wavering on whether to tell him about his conversation with Shawnee on the trail. In the end, he remained intentionally vague. “You should know she stands at a crossroad.”
Jacy Lee knotted the towel around his waist. “I know. I’m hoping this sweat will bring her clarity.”
“With you as her guide, I know it will.” After dropping boughs of cedar from the fire to the lodge—a Sacred Path for the Holy Ones to travel into the temple that honors the elements of earth, fire, water, and air—he lifted the blanketed door, holding it open for his elder. “After you, my friend.”
“Thank you, Cheveyo.”
Mayhem joined him in prayer at the altar, then left to turn the Grandfathers in the fire, ensuring they’d retain enough heat for the duration of the sweat. While maneuvering one of the lava rocks onto the pitchfork, Shawnee approached in the robe from Thorn Hill.
In her hand, she waved a white feather. “Spirit Crow gave me an offering for the Holy Ones.”
“How sweet. Is she still inside?”
“Well, she seemed kinda sad, so I brought her out to the porch. Poe’s with her.”
The news of her sadness gut-punched him. “Thank you, Cat. I’m sure he’s filling her head with all kinds of stories.”
“Ha! You know it.” She swayed from side to side, showing off the robe. “Thanks for snagging this for me, by the way. It’s so comfy.”
“As I explained once before, the room charges include the robes.”
“Okay.” Dropping her jaw, she exaggerated a wink. “If that’s how you want to play it, that’s cool.”
Shaking his head, he chuckled. “Oh, Cautious Cat, you amuse me.”
“Thanks.” She ducked under the door. “I think.”
Pitchfork in hand, Mayhem laid the first Grandfather in the pit, then left for the second. As firekeeper, his job was to lower the lodge door each time anyone left or entered. In total, he carried in seven Grandfathers, symbolized by lava rocks—one for each of the seven directions—with Jacy Lee blessing each one with herbs and prayer as they arrived.
With all the Grandfathers in place, he lowered the blanket and sat cross-legged next to Jacy Lee on the left, tucking the towel between his bare thighs. Tradition dictated for men and women to use separate sweat lodges, but in unique circumstances like this, males sat on the left, females on the right.
Glorious aromas of sage, cedar, and pollen filled the air above the glowing pit of Grandfathers as Jacy Lee held the eagle feather—a talking stick—and sang the opening prayer, with Mayhem beating the ox-skin drum. On the sly, he passed Shawnee a rattle, and her lips parted to speak. He wagged his head in an emphatic no. Only the person with the eagle feather spoke. All others listened with their full heart and soul open, responsive, and without judgment.
After Jacy Lee prayed, he passed the eagle feather to his left.
“Grandfather, Mysterious One,” Mayhem said, reciting an ancient sweat lodge prayer, “we search for you along this Great Red Road you have set us on. Sky Father, Tunkashila, we thank you for this world. We thank you for our existence. We ask only for your blessing and for your instruction. Grandfather, Sacred One, put our feet on the Holy Path that leads to you. And give us the strength and the will to lead ourselves and our children past the darkness we have entered. Teach us to heal ourselves, to heal each other, and to heal the world. Let us begin this very day, this very hour, the Great Healing to come. Let us walk the Red Road in peace.”
He passed the eagle feather to Shawnee.
“I… uh…” She stumbled over her words. “I’ve never done this part.”
Silenced, neither he nor Jacy Lee could offer verbal encouragement or guidance. Instead, Mayhem patted his bare chest, instructing her to speak from the heart.
“I pray for the Grandfathers,” she said, “for the Grandmothers, for the Creator, and all the Holy Ones. Shower your blessings on our heads, on the soil where animals trod, on trees for the feathered ones, and in water for those with fins. For the four-legged, two-legged, winged, and scaled, wrap us all in your loving arms as we walk the Great Red Road. In the name of all my relations, I pray.”
When she passed the eagle feather to Jacy Lee, his eyes welled with tears. “Absolutely beautiful, Mourning Dove. I am so proud of you.”
With a silent nod, Mayhem agreed before leaving the lodge to carry in seven more Grandfathers for the second round. Hotter this time, fourteen scalding hot lava rocks glowed in the center. After Jacy Lee blessed the Grandfathers, Shawnee held out the offering from Spirit Crow.
“Not yet, child. Remember, if the heat gets to be too much, say, ‘In the name of all my relations’ and we’ll let you out to catch your breath.”
In silence, she agreed.
After the second round of song and prayer, Mayhem pitchforked seven more lava rocks from the outside fire, lowered the blanket behind him, added the Grandfathers to the pit, and resumed the cross-legged position. The heat overwhelmed Shawnee this time, and she lay on her side, her lips puckering for cool air. And yet, she never once asked for release.
