Gedi Puniku- Cat Eyes

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “I am like wolf in story. I can be fierce and some may not trust me. They see only my fierceness. Yet I can be protector. I am your protector until you safely find your family.”

  He looked at me, perhaps thinking that because I feared bathing with him that I did not trust him. Then he turned and opened his hand.

  “I found this,” he mumbled.

  It was my braid. It must have fallen out of my pocket.

  “Is this part of your soul?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Hair is soul. We do not cut hair or we will lose part of soul. Why you cut away soul?”

  “To protect myself,” I said quietly. “If anyone thought I was a girl they would try to use me.”

  “I not use you,” he said. “I not let others use you. I protect you, like wolf.”

  He handed me my braid, giving me a weary smile.

  “Thank you,” is all I could think of to say.

  Now I lay beside Wawee’ne knowing he knew I was a girl, wondering if it would change the dynamics of our friendship? I didn’t want him to start treating me any differently just because he learned I was not the young boy he thought me to be.

  After a bit, Wawee’ne turned and looked at me.

  “You brave white girl,” he said softly. “You come help with horses even when you fear me. You travel to find father all alone in a country with many dangers in it. You changed my mind about taking scalps of Sioux. I honor your bravery. I will honor you. You need not fear me, Gedi Puniku. I will bring you safe to father.”

  “You have been nothing but kind to me,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm.

  He grabbed my hand and held it tight, but didn’t speak anymore. In the morning, he was still holding my hand.

  I looked shyly at him, as I removed my hand from his. He rose and started getting dressed. After we packed everything, he touched my arm.

  “You let me shoot gun. Now I teach you to shoot arrow,” he smiled.

  He took his bow and handed it to me.

  “A warrior’s bow is much sacred,” he told me. “It is all he has to protect himself and family. It is all he has to provide food. He makes his bow with skill and pride and great care. When a warrior marries he lets his wife carry his bow to ceremony to show his honor of her allowing her to care for what is most important to him. She not only cares for his weapon, but she cares for his heart. She honors him because she knows how sacred his weapon is and how important he is in protecting and caring for her.

  “Now I honor you for your trust in me,” he smiled. “I show my trust in you by allowing you to use my weapon. I have been the only one to touch it since it was made.”

  “I…I don’t feel worthy to touch your bow,” I said in a shaking voice. “What if I accidentally break it?”

  I tried to hand it back.

  “You take. I show you how to use.” he said firmly, putting his hand over my hand, holding the bow, and pushing it toward me. “Come. You shoot at tree. Bigger target than cattails,” he laughed.

  Wawee’ne took out an arrow, placing it against the string of the bow. Then he stood behind me, showing me how to hold the arrow against the string of the bow. He showed me how to hold onto the curve of the bow. He positioned my head, to show me how to look down the shaft of the arrow to my target. He explained how the arrow would fall and at what distance, so I had to account for that, depending on how far away the target was. He showed me how much tension to put on the string of the bow when I pulled the arrow back. All of these things seemed so complicated. Pulling a trigger on a gun was a lot simpler, I thought. It made me admire him for his talent in using his bow.

  The first few times were a dismal failure. The first shot didn’t even get to the tree. The second shot bounced off the side of the tree. Only Wawee’ne would not allow me to give up, until I was hitting the tree in succession. He constantly stood behind me correcting my mistakes, lifting my elbow, firming my grip on the bow, placing my fingers correctly on the feathers of the arrow, tilting my head. Each time his hands touched me to correct my stance, or position, a strange thrill went through me.

  He was gentle and patient. He did not tease or ridicule me when I made mistakes. He always praised me when I was successful in my performance. His mouth, close to my ear, instructing me, felt comforting and reassuring. I liked the feel of his breath against my neck. I liked the feel of his hand on mine, as he showed me how to hold the bow, or place the arrow. I never wanted to stop the lesson, but eventually, it was time to move on.

  I turned to hand him his weapon, and almost bumped into him, he was standing so close. He reached out to steady me, looking into my eyes.

  “Cat eyes,” he whispered. “Gedi Puniku. I love your cat eyes,” he whispered.

  Then he abruptly took the weapon and arrows from me and placed his quiver on his back and his bow over his arm. I watched as he effortlessly swung up on the back of his horse. He sat looking down at me. I couldn’t read his expression.

  “We go now,” was all he said, and then turned his horse along the river, and I climbed up on Fire Cracker, with Bandit at my heels, following along. I followed along with him, the same way I had followed along with my family all those years. I wished I could follow along with him forever, but I knew eventually our journey would end.

  He shot a rabbit with his arrow. It happened so quickly, I barely knew he had done it, until he was climbing down from his horse and retrieving the rabbit.

  When we stopped that night, he skinned the rabbit, putting the pelt in one of his pouches. It seemed he never wasted anything, keeping the snake skin and rattle, and now the rabbit pelt.

  Wawee’ne built a fire, put the rabbit on a stick, and stuck it in the ground, slightly leaning over the fire. He would turn it from time to time until the meat was completely cooked. We sat in silence eating the rabbit. We had barely talked to each other all day, and I sensed the mood between us had changed. It was what I had feared would happen. He wasn’t treating me like that young boy any longer.

  When we finished eating, Wawee’ne eyed me. Then he went to put his blankets upon the ground. I followed suit and put my cot-roll down beside him, like I always did. He paused, looking at me. I couldn’t read his eyes, but he seemed to be deep in thought. Then he shrugged and started removing his clothes for his bath. When he was completely undressed he gave me a fleeting glance.

  I didn’t want anything to change between us just because he had discovered I was a woman. I bolstered up my courage, and began taking my clothes off as well. He seemed surprised, as his eyebrows raised while he watched me disrobe.

  When my clothes had fallen to the ground, he smiled and said, “You are too skinny.”

  Then he reached out his hand and took mine, leading me down to the river to bathe. We entered the water together, but he did not touch me. He merely went about bathing himself, glancing at me from time to time with an unreadable smile on his face. It took me longer to relax, but eventually, I did.

  When we stepped out of the water, we walked beside each other to where our supplies and sleeping accommodations were. He reached down and picked up a small blanket, throwing it at me, and then started drying himself with another blanket. I watched him dry himself as he watched me. Our eyes locked, each wondering what the other was thinking?

  I didn’t know what I was thinking? All I knew was that I suddenly felt completely comfortable with Wawee’ne looking at me, and me looking at him. It seemed natural. It seemed acceptable. I thought about those marriage rules, and knew I would never follow them once I ever got married. I wondered if I ever would get married? It was the first time the thought had crossed my mind.

  Thinking of what Wawee’ne had told me about the Indian marriage ceremony, where a wife carried the weapons of her husband, appealed to me somehow. It would never work in a regular wedding ceremony of my people, I thought with a smile, but it seemed right for Indians, who had different values than us.

  We had finished drying ourselve
s, and I timidly handed the blanket back to Wawee’ne. When he took it from my hands, our fingers touched. He paused at the touch of our fingers, and then stepped closer to me, and pushed my wet curls from my forehead.

  “You have beautiful fire soul. Never cut it away again,” he murmured, as his fingers lingered in my hair. I could feel myself shivering at the feel of his fingers in my hair. Then his hand dropped, and he took my hand, leading me to my cot. He lowered himself on his blankets, and I sat upon my own blankets, not reaching for my clothes, since he did not reach for his.

  We sat opposite each other, not speaking, but merely gazing at each other, unashamed.

  “You are safe,” he whispered, and lowered himself to a prone position, still looking at me.

  I lowered myself as well. His hand reached for mine, and I could feel the strength from his fingers entering my very soul. I craved that kind of strength. He didn’t even have to touch me and I could feel his strength, I thought, as I looked into his dark eyes while he appraised me with them.

  “Sleep well,” he murmured, but didn’t let go of my hand.

  I didn’t want him too. I clung to his hand in fear that he would remove it. As long as his hand was in mine, I felt comforted.

  The next morning, Wawee’ne, still holding my hand, pulled me to my feet, and led me back out into the river again. It was time for the morning bath. This time he stood before me, looking down into my eyes, grasping my other hand in his.

  “I am happy we are together,” he told me. “I am happy you trust me, and do not fear bathing with me. If I had love flute, I would play it for you,” he breathed.

  The words touched me, as I felt his grasp on my hands tighten.

  “I think I would come if you played your love flute, but I could never marry an Indian. Even an Indian as nice as you are.”

  ‘Why,” he asked? “Many trappers marry my people. They care not about color of our skin.”

  “Trappers are looking for wives. I am not looking for a husband. I just want to find my papa.”

  “Only you have found me. I have found you. I like you near me.”

  “I like you near me too. Only once we find my papa, I don’t know what I will decide to do. I will just have to wait and see.”

  “Say maybe,” he begged.

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, not wanting him to hate me or things to change between us, now that I was feeling happy to have him around.

  “Good,” he murmured, and put his arms around me, pulling me against him.

  I could feel his strong body pressing against me as he crushed me to him, placing his hand at the back of my head and laying it on his shoulder. I found myself clinging to him. He was the only strength I had. I didn’t want to lose that feeling.

  Then he released me, and went about bathing himself. I was afraid I would hurt him, if I didn’t agree to marry him, but the very thought frightened me. I wouldn’t know how to act in a whole village full of Shoshoni. I had barely gotten used to knowing how to act around Wawee’ne. Only we were out, alone on the prairie. There was no one out here to judge me or ridicule me for choosing an Indian man to love me. Once we were back in society, where we would be seen together and judged, I didn’t know if I would be able to handle it?

  I thought about how my papa had been chased from town to town because people disapproved of what he was doing. I was tired of being shunned by everyone. I wanted to start my life anew, and forget about that poor girl who watched her mother die, and had to strike out on her own with nothing but money got from her dead mama’s wedding ring. I wanted my life to mean something. I wanted to bring myself up where people would accept me. Marrying a Shoshoni was not going to bring that about, I told myself.

  Nonetheless, I was torn. I was torn between how wonderful Wawee’ne made me feel when I was near him, and not wanting my peers to know that is how I felt when I was near him.

  We went back up the bank and got dressed. We did not speak. I think Wawee’ne knew I needed a lot of time to think about what he offered. I wondered how much time it would take for me to make up my mind? I knew we had a week or so before we reached Wyoming. I hoped that would give me enough time to make up my mind. As we traveled I would get to know Wawee’ne better, and then maybe I would know how I really felt about him, I kept telling myself.

  We continued to follow the river, Wawee’ne shooting game for us to eat, and camping at night, bathing together, making it hard for me to think when Wawee’ne was so near to me, yet still so far away. He did not bring up his offer for the next few days. Only his eyes were always on me, and I knew what he was thinking.

  As we got closer to our destination, I started to fear once we reached the gold fields, I would lose Wawee’ne forever if I did not make up my mind. When I was near him, during our bath, all I wanted to do was put my arms around him, and feel his heart beating against my own, as we stood in the water together. Only he had never pulled me to him again, like he had that one day he told me he wanted to play his love flute for me. Maybe it was up to the woman to show her feelings, once he played the love flute, I thought. Since he had no flute to play for me, the only thing I had to go on was his mentioning he wished to play it for me.

  We were bathing, and I was thinking of these things, when I realized I had wandered out farther than I had expected. My foot started sinking into the sand, and I screamed, believing I had stepped into quicksand.

  Wawee’ne was immediately at my side, grabbing onto me, pulling me to him. I felt the sand release my foot, but the fear I had felt overwhelmed me, and I clung to Wawee’ne’s neck, shivering in my fear.

  “Don’t let go. Don’t let go,” I whimpered, as I clung tightly to his neck.

  “You are safe,” he kept reassuring me, but it wasn’t enough.

  I only felt safe when he was holding me against him, and I wrapped my legs around him, in the water, clinging all the tighter to him, not wanting my feet to touch the sandy bottom again. Wawee’ne walked toward the shore, with me clinging to him, carrying me to the blankets, lowering down against the blankets with me, still clinging to him. His hands soothed over my back and legs, coaxing me to relax. My face was buried in his neck against his long, flowing hair, which he called his soul.

  I filled my lungs with the smell of his hair, loving the scent of it and the feel of it against my cheek. One of his hands was caressing my cheek, and he turned my head to face him.

  “I will never let harm come to you,” he whispered encouragingly, as he looked deeply into my eyes.

  “My soul would wish to be with your soul if you ever died. I will never let that happen while you are with me.”

  “I…I was so afraid I would be pulled down into the sand,” my voice shivered. “It was a horrible feeling. Hold me close, Wawee’ne,” I begged.

  “I have you close,” he almost chuckled, as he looked down at my face.

  Then his head came closer to mine, and I felt his lips brushing my forehead and then my eyes. Soon they were lighting upon my lips, as his wet hair dripped against my face. The feel of his lips on mine sent a soothing thrill through me. I wanted more of that feel and he compiled with my unspoken wishes. His mouth spanned over mine, consuming my lips with his, as though drinking me in. His breath tasted sweet and refreshing to me. I wanted more of the taste of it. I opened my mouth to allow his breath to mingle with mine.

  The gentle touch of his tongue passing over my lower lip, and then exploring deeper, caused me to catch my breath. There was some deep need within me that craved that feel, longing for it to continue with more intensity. I could feel my body shivering with the feel of it, as I pressed myself even tighter against his body, my breasts flattened against his strong, hard chest.

  The feel of Wawee’ne’s lips against mine, seeking, exploring, nibbling, spread beyond the kiss. It raced through my entire body, coupled with the touch of his hand against my back, stroking against my skin, crushing me to him, turning me beneath him, as he lay over me, and continued the kiss.

  The
feel of his hands, caressing me, pulled at my senses in a way I hadn’t been prepared for. My whole being was consumed with the feel and taste and nearness of him, wanting more of that nearness he seemed willing to provide for me.

  I felt his mouth slide away from my lips, traveling over my neck, causing my body to quake as it continued to caress me and kiss me and consume me in other ways. I rose to the softness of that touch, yearned for more of his mouth worshiping my skin.

  The heavens were opening up to me, even when I didn’t think I believed in heaven or God, and I thought about how Wawee’ne had talked about our choices taking us to the road we followed and where it led us. Was this where I wanted my road to lead, I asked myself. Yes, my body Cried! I listened to my body, while the rest of my mind was in a fog. A fog filled only with the consciousness of Wawee’ne’s touch and kisses, praying to discover what they would bring.

  The discovery was beyond my own expectations. It took over every fiber of my being. My soul soared with a new realization of the need I had for Wawee’ne’s touch. I not only wanted his strength, but I wanted his soul to mingle with mine, and I knew it was what he wanted too. Yet I could feel him restraining himself, holding back some part of him he was afraid to release. I knew why. He did not think I loved him. I didn’t know what love was, but if this was anything close to it…

  I took in my breath with a shiver, as my heart raced and my body responded until I was engulfed in a world I did not know existed. A world where Wawee’ne was in charge of my destiny and my fate. I thought about what my mama had said about fate. How it was really God directing you. Was God directing me now, I wondered? Wawee’ne had said his God had directed him to me. Maybe both my mama and Wawee’ne were right. I decided I would allow fate to bring the answers, as I began to drown in the wonder of what it was bringing so far.

  When my breath calmed, and my body felt normal again, Wawee’ne, held me gently against him.