by Rita Hestand
"Don't you understand that you can't marry me?" she murmured, shaking her head.
"Why not?" He asked.
"I'm already married."
"White man's law." He shook his head. "It does not apply, as ours does not apply to them." He told her. Then after a long silence he sighed. "In the white man's world," he drawled slowly wanting her to understand, "our wedding would be ignored, but in the Indian world, your marriage to John would be ignored. You live in an Indian world now. Look, you cannot go back now. I have told you this, many times. When will you understand, I do not lie?"
"Yes, I know. I even understand what you are saying. It's just I resist accepting it. If I just complied, wouldn't you think me a liar?"
He stared, "We both have much to adjust to. Three wives. A white man? It was hard to believe, but I do believe you now. And I understand why you would not want to live that way. I would not either."
"You understand?" She looked stunned.
"I do."
"I explained it was his religion. It's not like he has no morals, it's just how they believe. If I'd only known about his religion, things would have been different."
"I see that you have been through a lot and faced some difficult times with your white husband. I am sorry for that. And now you must face the Apache way of life. It is hard for you to deal with and understand. But you have no choice in the matter. You are here, and I cannot take you back. The truth is, they would not take you back. You would be left to struggle on your own. You would be scorned. Your people would treat you like trash. And no story you could dream up would satisfy them as long as you are in that dress. I know this probably hurts you, but it is the truth. I have no white man dress to give you. It isn't your fault, it isn't my fault, but it is the truth. And to tell the truth, this is not of my doing. The Comanche took you. Not I. How can I make you understand this? You have survived too long, and it is useless to think they would take you back. We seem to be butting heads. Even your white husband would reject you. You have been with us too long. It is the way of life out here in the west. Had I taken you back the moment I saw you, it wouldn't have helped. It was already too late. When you cannot go backwards, you have to go forward."
She considered his words. "But I am not Indian. Where do I belong?" she cried. "Shouldn't I belong somewhere?"
Her voice held a sadness that tore into his heart, as it echoed some of his own feelings at times. He understood her.
"Tomorrow you will be my wife." He took her by the shoulders and stared into her sad eyes. "An Indian wife. You will belong here, then. In time you will become Apache."
"I will never be Indian."
He stood up. "It will be so. One must always adapt to each change in their life. And Little One, all changes are not bad."
"But I've had so many changes in the past four years." She stared into his understanding eyes. "You have treated me well. And I thank you for it. But I must return to my people. Can't you see that. I don't fit in here?"
"No one fits in at first. A child must learn the ways of his people. A captive too."
When he didn't say anything, she went on. "I will make trouble for your people, just being here?"
"Is it the love of your husband that makes you want to return so badly?" He asked.
She sighed heavily and turned away. "No…" She bowed her head, wishing he would be satisfied with what she'd told him.
"No?" he repeated comically. "No?" He came to sit on the blanket and stare at her. She could see bare flesh where his high leggings stopped and a lot of flesh leading to his breechcloth. She'd never looked at a naked man, but this was the closest thing she'd come to it. And despite everything she knew and believed, he was gorgeous. The muscles in his legs were taut and firm looking, his skin tan and appealing. She couldn't stop staring. He wasn't naked, but her eyes could not seem to look away. He was a strong and handsome man. Maybe a little too handsome.
She was ogling an Indian? Had she lost her mind?
The thing was he didn't talk or act like any Indian she'd met. She saw only the white side of him.
She ached now, thinking of her white husband that she'd never looked upon. He'd never undressed around her, so she saw little to nothing of him. Suddenly, she found that strange. She had never looked upon a man, until now. Married three years to the man and she never looked upon him. What puzzled her further was that she'd never been curious enough to want to. Why?
She'd never even been curious about John. There was something sadly lacking from that marriage, she decided.
So many questions danced in her head. What was normal? Where did she belong? Could she marry this man, this Indian man? What would happen if she did? Could she adapt to her surroundings?
Something inside her stomach knotted and turned over. It was a strange kind of ache, she'd never known, when she looked at Red Elk, for he was not hard to look upon. Was she a sinful woman? John would have told quickly just how sinful she was.
Flashes of John making love to her, ran through her head, as he simply pulled her gown up, so he could enter her. There was nothing to make it easier, no kisses, no words of love. He merely undid his pants and climbed on. Only his getting on and getting off. He never looked at her, admired her. She assumed he found her ugly, as he never remarked about her looks. It made her feel very ugly. Why was she thinking of this as she stared at Red Elk? Her heartbeat quickened.
Perhaps Red Elk simply pitied her.
Strange as it was, she was attracted to Red Elk's good looks, and she knew it. It was difficult to admit to herself. It was even more difficult to understand.
But he was a man and she was a woman! When had she started thinking like this?
Suddenly a though it came to her from nowhere, what was so wrong about looking at each other? Didn't God himself make them different to attract them to each other?
She glanced at him, "I do want you to understand. It is very difficult. Before we marry, I want you to understand."
"Understand what?"
"I married John, I didn't know he was of such a different religion. And strange as it may sound to you, religion can sometimes be a bigger barrier than race. John only courted me a week, then asked my parents for my hand in marriage. I realized how short a courtship that was, and in a way, felt cheated, as my sister always enjoyed the courtship. It was a long time into the marriage before I looked back at that and realized it was too quick. But my parents were eager to marry me off like my sisters. So, I agreed to it."
"Mormon? I must learn more of this religion. I have never met one before."
"I hadn't either, that was my problem. There are not a lot of them here, I would imagine." She answered swiftly. "Don't get the wrong idea. I did care for John, at first. But I knew there was something lacking in our marriage too. I realized it not even a week after we married. But it was too late, we were married. I couldn't turn around and go home."
"How did you know this?"
"Well, it's silly when I think on it. I mean, it shouldn't have made a bit of difference. But when we married, he bought me no ring."
"Ring?"
She saw he didn't understand this. "A ring is a white tradition when you marry. It's like a promise you put on your finger to tell the world you are married and that your love is true."
"A ring?"
"Yes, white couples exchange rings when they are wed. At least most of them do. John wouldn't buy one. He said it was a material thing and not needed as we were legally married. But just from that one gesture of him not conceding, I realized our marriage was not sound from the beginning. And then, at the wedding, he didn't kiss me on the lips."
"This ring, means something."
"It does to me. It symbolizes your love and devotion for one another. Yes, it's like a promise that you are theirs, and they are yours. I grew to realize there was no promise with John. He didn't seem to understand that it was not the ring itself, but what it stood for."
"I see. He didn't buy one for you. And he did not kis
s you?"
"No, he said he didn't put stock in material things. But when he kissed me, it was at the corner of my mouth, as though he could not bring himself to kiss me on the lips. I felt cheated of all the things I had looked forward to. He was telling me that I was a fool to dream of such things."
"I see, and this hurt you?"
"Yes, perhaps it shouldn't have, but it did. It wasn't like I was expecting a diamond or anything, just a plain gold band, to say he cared enough to do it. It disappointed me. I wanted to be a good wife, please understand, but there were too many differences in our beliefs. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good wife to him. I cannot live like they do. I wanted to sew, and he did not approve of that. I loved music, there was no music. I like to laugh and have fun, he was so serious all the time."
"He prays to a different God then?"
"No that's what is so strange. But…their bible is different from the Holy Bible. Much different. And like the Indians, he now has more than just me for a wife. They believe that if a woman's husband dies, then the elders of the church should marry her and take care of her. And it doesn't matter how many they marry, or how many children they have. They all live together in one house. I wasn't raised like that. I was never exposed to that kind of relationship, never. For a year, our marriage was normal in every way. I mean I thought it was. But then later he brought the other women and thought nothing of taking us all. I had no idea he would do such a thing. He just brought them home from church one day and announced he'd married them. I could not be a part of it. I didn't want to be a part of it. I would have escaped him, if he'd given me any chance to."
He studied this information. "So, they believe in not just one, but many, and this bothers you?"
"Yes, it does bother me, I believe God made one woman for every man. And that they make a family together. Bear Foot has more than one wife too, that bothered me. I'm Christian I don't believe in more than one wife at a time. I could not bear sharing John with others. It wasn't that I loved him so much, it was my beliefs and his were at odds. So, I did not sleep with him again. I was like his white slave from then on. For two years I was his slave, not his wife. He treated me with no interest for the next two years. It was such a strain. The love I thought I had for him, disappeared. As though it never was. I know that is cruel and unkind, but I could not feel anything anymore. I tried but I couldn't. I suppose I was a bad wife. That would be another reason you would not want me."
"If all you say is true, why does the white law not apply to him?"
"It applies, if he's truthful about it. I realized that the reason he never told me for so long was that he could be arrested or thrown out of the state for it."
"Had he told you, more would know and have him arrested or thrown out?"
"Yes, so he was silent about it for a year."
"Why did he take these women, did he love them?"
"Love? I'm not sure John knew what love was any more than I did. No, their husband died, and the church expected one of the elders of the church to take them as their wife, so John did."
"And these women, did they like this?"
"They were of the same faith, so they understood, and they seemed to like it. They said it made the workload much easier to have many wives. And the having relations was merely a duty they performed."
"A duty?" Red Elk's eyes widened. "Not a pleasure?"
"No, and they were right about that. With John it was a duty, not a pleasure. It is unlawful, but people usually just run them out of town or arrest them for bigamy."
"Bigamy, what is that?
"More than one wife."
"Oh, I see." Red Elk nodded. "Then they do this against their own laws, knowingly."
"Yes, they do."
"How can they be so religious and do something that is against the law?"
"Their religion tells them it is right."
"Then that is where I differ from them. They are no better than a thief of a killer."
" Their religion tells them it is alright, but the law says otherwise. And I suppose that's why he didn’t tell me about it. He could go to jail or be sent away. For all I know I could've too. Only, I was his first wife, and I was clueless of all of this."
"Ah…" he nodded. "I begin to understand. I did not think white men took more than one wife, either." Then after thinking about it, he smiled crookedly, "The white man's laws does not permit this, but he does it anyway. I can understand you, yes. Especially if you are Christian."
She explained. "I tried at first to understand, but I just couldn't agree with it. I've read part of their bible and it is not like ours. If the Texas law had known of it, they would have taken him to jail. But where his people live, they do not bother them. I don't know why. I guess they control the law there. Eventually John would have moved us north to his country. Another place I did not want to go. Perhaps there are too many of them up there to put in jail."
He studied the ground now, "So a white man can have more than one wife, in this north country?"
"Not legally, no. But they do have them and the law either ignores the fact or allows it. I'm not sure how they get away with it, unless they have Mormon sheriffs."
"In truth Indian law allows more than one wife too, in different tribes. A man might take his wife's sister if her husband dies, so she is taken care of. But I too resist the notion of having more than one wife. Perhaps that is the white side of me. It bothers you that he has other wives, because you are Christian?" He asked glancing at her again. He repeated this several times to get an answer.
She sighed.
"Of course, it bothers me. I will not sleep with a man that takes other women to his bed at the same time…." She sighed shaking her head. "I cannot believe it is right."
"Why?" he asked comically again.
Again, she sighed, "Because I will not share a man I love with other women."
"So, you did not sleep with him any longer?"
"No, of course I didn't. The last two years of our marriage I didn't." she admitted. "And truth be known, I didn't love him anymore because of it. Because he believed this religion was right, I could not live with him, happily. I was young and didn't know what love was. Nor did I know much about his religion. But now that I think I do, I know I didn't love him like I should have. I thought I did at first, he was kind, attentive, good to me. But he lied to me. And I cannot live the way he wants me to live. If he lied about that, what else could he have lied to me about. I didn't trust him any longer. I didn't respect him. He never looked upon me. He never wanted to. It was strange to me that he wanted many wives, but he never wanted to look at them. He thought it dirty and unclean to look at a woman. I didn't understand, and I still don't. I mean marriage is a holy union."
"Look upon you?" Red Elk asked. "You mean, he never saw you… without clothes?"
"No, he never did." She hung her head. "I don't believe the way he believes. It would never work out. I believe that what a man and a woman do when they are married is between the two of them. It is not a sin to look upon each other. But he was different."
"No, it is not a sin… " he agreed. "Was he a good husband?"
"Fair."
"He wasn't mean to you, but he was only a fair husband?"
She sighed with exasperation. "Why do you ask so many questions?"
"To learn!"
She sighed. "Okay to give an example. He was stingy with his money, and he had some, I saw it a time or two. He gave all his money to the church. He never bought me new clothes, not even a sunbonnet. Nothing. He wouldn't even buy me needles and thread. He took the clothes I brought from home and threw them away."
"Why?"
"He said a woman didn't need pretty things."
Red Elk took this information in and studied her words. "Were you a good wife?"
"Until he brought those women home, I was." She said softly. "And don't misunderstand, the women were good women, they just believed differently. I didn't hold it against them so much as him."
"Then why do you run away from me. I have no other wives. I do not mistreat you. And I do not lie to you. Is it because I am a breed, and Indian breed?"
"No, it has nothing to do with that." She saw what he meant, but how could she explain. "I suppose white women are different than Indian women. You want one thing from me, much as he did, a son. I want a husband that wants me, loves me. I feel cheated that I never had what others did when they married. Even John didn't love me. He loved his religion, not me."
"Then if I loved you, you would stay, have my son and be a good wife?" He asked with a smirk.
"Probably," she nodded. "But you must understand, we are different people, we believe differently too, just like John and I did."
"How am I so different? Every tribe is different, this is true. But you don't know anything about our ways. Do you?"
"Well…. I don't know. I'm sure you have your customs and ways of doing things."
"Then it is simple, I love you!" he said comically.
"You don't even know me. And you certainly don't love me." She insisted. "John didn't either."
"How do you know this?"
She shook her head. She could never make this man understand. "John and I never kissed on the lips for one thing," she told him, wondering why she was admitting this to an Indian.
"On the lips, you husband never kissed you on the lips. Never looked at you naked?"
"No, he never did. Never wanted to either. All the things I thought were right about a man and a woman coming together, he said was wrong."
Red Elk seemed to study her words.
"I shouldn't be talking like this to you. You are a man, and you wouldn't understand how a woman feels about things. He didn't either. There was no intimacy. No desire at all. He kissed me on the cheek, always on the cheek. And not often. Even that was only a peck. Affection was not something he displayed. When we made love, he got on and got off and that was the end of it, no kissing, no words that mean something. Nothing. Red Elk, excuse me, but see our differences are showing right now. White people kiss each other on the lips. All the time. It's a sign of affection."