Child, Maiden, Woman, Crone

by Terry Bramlett

"Natalie, are you all right?"

  Another retch exploded. “I'm going to kill Kokopelli, when I catch him,” she yelled between bouts of throwing up. “Go back to bed, Johnny,” she said. “This will pass."

  She felt better later that afternoon. Johnny went to the drugstore and bought something to help with nausea. Natalie looked at the bottle and her face turned pale.

  "You don't expect me to put that in my body,” she said.

  Johnny looked confused. “Well, yeah,” he said. “It's supposed to help."

  "You want to help me?” Natalie waited for Johnny to nod. “Good, then go to the rock, play the guitar and flute.” Before he would leave, she assured him that she was not angry, but she needed to be alone for a while. Johnny left.

  Natalie stood on the front porch when he returned. Her face glowed and her body held a little more weight than usual. He kissed her. “How are you?"

  "I'm better,” she said. He asked if she had eaten. She shook her head. “No, I don't need food."

  "Okay, I was just asking,” he said.

  She laughed. “I'm sorry. I have to go for now, but I'll be back.” Natalie sighed. “I have to be back by Monday."

  "You've been sick,” he said. “Can't it wait for a few days?"

  "No, I must go."

  Johnny knew better than to argue.

  * * * *

  James and Manuel arrived early on Monday morning, which surprised Johnny since he had not called. “Good morning,” Johnny said. “I was going to call you two."

  The two men stopped at the bottom step of the porch. “Hi, Johnny,” Manuel said. “We got a message that you wanted to see us. Natalie told my wife yesterday at a Blessingway."

  Johnny walked down the steps and leaned against his truck. “She saw Natalie?"

  "Yes,” Manuel said.

  "We would have come in any case,” James said. “I saw your corn yesterday."

  "Damnedest thing I ever saw,” Johnny said. He told them what had happened. “Natalie said her cousin did that."

  James looked away before he spoke. “What was this cousin's name?"

  Johnny scratched his head. “Koko-something."

  "Kokopelli,” James said.

  Manuel looked pained. “James, don't start that."

  "What better proof?” James almost screamed the question. “Corn fields throughout Navajo land grew overnight. Nothing like this has happened in generations. She called Kokopelli a cousin."

  "Other farms experienced the same thing,” Johnny said. “Must be a freak occurrence. I wonder if that corn is safe to eat."

  James looked Johnny in the eyes. “It is safe, and probably the best corn anyone will ever taste. Kokopelli drives the harvest. Where he appears, the corn matures and babies are born."

  "I have a hard time believing that an old god has returned,” Manuel said. “It just doesn't happen."

  James looked into the distance before replying. “You spent too many years away, Manuel. You think like a bilagaana. Don't you remember the Holy People visited that old witch in the mountains a few years ago?” He turned to Johnny. “Your corn field is the only land off the Navajo Nation that received Kokopelli's visit. That's because of Changing Woman."

  Johnny started to speak, but stopped. Natalie walked up the driveway to the house. Her face sparkled in the morning sun, but Johnny noticed roundness to her abdomen that had not been there when she left.

  "Natalie, are you all right? What's happened?"

  She frowned at the questions. “I am in a perfectly natural state, Johnny.” She glanced at her stomach. “What does it look like has happened?"

  Her body remained thin everywhere except her stomach. Johnny thought about the nausea she experienced Saturday morning. But that's not possible, he thought.

  Natalie nodded at Manuel and James. “They know, Johnny,” she said. “Don't you, James?"

  "Kokopelli,” James said, not meeting her eyes. “And you are Asdzaan Nadleehe, Changing Woman."

  Natalie smiled. “Were you with your wives Friday night when Kokopelli visited?” Both men nodded. Manuel appeared uncomfortable, but James displayed respect. She smiled. “Congratulations, you will both be fathers again."

  Natalie walked to Johnny and kissed him on the cheek. He felt the firmness of her belly. “You will have to wait longer than Johnny and I, but our children will grow together."

  "You're pregnant,” Johnny said. “How can you be pregnant?"

  Natalie laughed. “I think you're old enough to understand how I became pregnant."

  "But I've only known you a couple of months,” Johnny said. He thought for a moment. “It's not mine. It can't be. And how did you hide it for so long?"

  Natalie caressed his face but Johnny did not pull away. He didn't care who fathered the child. He loved Natalie.

  "I know you don't understand, my love. Believe me when I say that I carry your son within my womb. He was conceived Friday night.” Natalie held Johnny's stare for a moment, and then turned to James.

  "Would you bring your wives to help? Johnny will be useless."

  James and Manuel nodded and left.

  "I need to rest, Johnny,” she said. “Help me up the steps."

  Johnny guided her to the bedroom. Questions demanded asking, but he fought the urge. She removed her clothes and lay in the bed. For the first time since he'd known her, Johnny saw that Natalie slept. He kissed her cheek and waited on the porch.

  * * * *

  Johnny watched his two-week old son sleeping in the crib. He heard the droning of the news channels in the living room. Natalie watched them every night, now that the boy was born. Johnny watched the boy breathe.

  Natalie insisted he be named Charles, after Pappy. Johnny grinned as he thought of Pappy. He would have loved to have a great-grandchild. He would have burst out of his shirt with pride to have a namesake. Natalie said Pappy knew. Johnny could not doubt her. He frowned as he remembered.

  * * * *

  "So, I am in love with a goddess,” Johnny had said after the birth. “Pappy called you Asdzaan Nadleehe. James concurred. You—no, we—have a child, which you tell me was conceived only three days before its birth. Is that about right? I'm in love with a goddess?"

  Natalie's face showed the strain of the birth and Johnny's question. Young Charles suckled at his mother's breast. Her milk dried up before the next feeding, sending Johnny racing to the nearest grocery story. Finally, Natalie sighed and answered.

  "Are you in love with a goddess? Yeah, I guess I qualify. I am Changing Woman, with an emphasis on the ‘Woman’ part when it comes to you."

  Charles looked around the room as he quit feeding. His dark eyes found Johnny and twinkled. The infant smiled and laughed. Maybe it was gas. Johnny knew it was mirth.

  Johnny shook his head. “I just can't grasp the concept. I did not grow up in Navajo Nation, so I am not privy to the inner workings of traditional beliefs. Never been a devout anything.” He rubbed Charles's stomach and heard the baby coo. “What does a goddess see in an average man?"

  "My love, you are far from average,” she said. “I was drawn by your music.” She smile and put her hand on his. “I stayed because of you."

  Johnny rubbed his face with his hands, breaking contact with her. “I don't know what to believe. It's obvious the Navajo believe you, but this is so far outside my experience."

  "Johnny, how old was I when we first met?"

  He studied Natalie's face. Her eyes, temples, and forehead show the obvious signs of aging. Her hair faded as the summer wound through June and started July. Her breasts did not stand as firm as they had a month earlier. But her smile and voice belied the other features.

  "I thought you were about seventeen,” he said. “I was wrong. You had to be older."

  "I was about ten when I first spoke to you in March,” Natalie said.

  Johnny heard the little girl demand that he play. He remembered her eyes, the same eyes that stared at him now. Johnny wanted to reject the thought, but he co
uld not.

  "So, I am in love with a goddess,” he said.

  Natalie shrugged, embarrassed. “Yeah, you are."

  * * * *

  The phone rang, startling Johnny back to the present. He grabbed the receiver before it woke the baby. “Yeah?"

  "Johnny? It's Peter."

  Charles yawned and let out a small whimper, but went back to sleep. Johnny remembered the phone.

  "Peter?” he asked. “Peter who?"

  For a moment, silence greeted his question. “Your agent, Johnny. Peter Wilson? Remember me?"

  It took a moment, but the words registered. “Peter, I'm sorry,” Johnny said. “I was watching my son, hoping the phone didn't wake him."

  "When did you have a son? What the hell's going on out there in Texas, Johnny?"

  "I'm in Arizona, Peter. New Mexico separates me from Texas."

  "Right, Arizona,” Peter said. “Look, I got the CD you sent. There's some great stuff on there, Johnny. Well, at least good enough to get you a gig."

  "A gig?” Johnny focused on the phone call. “What type of gig?"

  "Duane McAllister heard the CD and wants you to open for him when he tours this fall,” Peter said. “Just you and your guitar for a forty-five-minute set. He wants a soft opening before his band comes out. Then you sit in with his band for a number of tunes. The original act broke a leg, and you'll replace him until winter. It's a start back down the road, Johnny, my boy."

  "Duane McAllister plays arenas,” Johnny said. “An acoustic opening will get lost in that venue."

  "That's the best part, Johnny,” Peter said, punctuated with a laugh. “Duane's getting back to his roots. The tour is small clubs and theaters, which is a perfect comeback for you."

  Johnny saw Charles move. “I have a son, Peter. I've got to take care of him."

  "Bring him along. You can hire a nanny. Or better yet, bring the mother, if you haven't dumped her."

  He ignored the last statement. Two years ago, Peter would have been right. Johnny changed the subject.

  "When do I need to be there?"

  "This Friday, I need you in LA, baby,” Peter said. “If this works out I can get you studio time and maybe a new contract."

  "I'll be there.” Johnny hung up and smiled at Charles. “We're going to Los Angeles.” The baby blew spittle out of his mouth and closed his eyes. Johnny went into the living room.

  "Natalie, guess what?"

  She did not turn, but she clicked off the television. “I've avoided that over the years, watching the news, finding out anything about the outside world. How can people look in their mirrors? They kill each other for no reason.” She shrugged. “But then the ground has always been fertilized with blood."

  Johnny sat beside her on the couch. His excitement about the job waned with her assessment. She smiled, but he saw the sadness behind her eyes. She knows about the gig, he thought.

  "You're leaving,” she said. Natalie spoke with no anger, just a simple declarative.

  "That was Peter on the phone. He's got me a gig. We leave for Los Angeles tomorrow."

  Natalie nodded. “You leave tomorrow. I cannot go with you. I don't exist outside of this sacred land."

  Johnny's heart dropped. When he accepted the gig, he had not thought of her and the boy. “Natalie, please come with me."

  She placed a hand on Johnny's face. “I can't, Johnny. No one outside Navajo land believes in me. I don't exist out there. I don't belong out there. I belong here. Kokopelli was right when he said I was tied to this land, to Dineh. But you must go and you must take Charles with you, because it won't be long before I will not be able to care for him."

  He sat in silence for a moment. “I'm calling Peter. I can't take the gig. I don't want to be without you."

  Natalie smiled. “Don't be obtuse. You are going because if you don't go, if you don't communicate with that audience, then you'll always wonder. After a while, you'll resent me and I will not have that. You must go, so you will know.” She pushed her way into his arms. “Johnny, I'd rather lose you for a little while, rather than risk losing you forever."

  * * * *

  Crone (Late Fall)

  December snow fell on the streets. He walked into the hotel after returning from the show, tired and unhappy. The concerts had gone well, but a feeling of something missing increased with each day he stayed away.

  Natalie waited at home. According to Manuel, she lived there. James and his wife moved in to take care of her. Her voice sounded weaker and more cracked every time he talked with her. His heart broke with each phone call. Johnny sighed in exhaustion.

  The nanny he hired kept Charles in her room, for which he was grateful. Johnny needed the sleep. The tour had finished in Columbus and they had been on the road for weeks without a break. His cell phone rang as he got onto the elevator. He recognized the number and sighed.

  "Hi, Peter."

  "Johnny, you've done a great job, I hear,” Peter said. “Duane wants you to stay with the tour, I think."

  Johnny let out a long breath. He was tired and wanted to be home. His thoughts were constantly on Natalie. Even the audiences could not motivate his performance. He had come on the tour to rediscover his talent. Johnny found that what he wanted did not exist in this world.

  "Johnny, are you still there? This is the opportunity you've been wanting."

  "I'm going home to Arizona,” Johnny said, vocalizing his feelings for the first time. “I'm going home to Natalie."

  "What?” Peter's anger burst through the phone. “After I worked so hard to get you this chance? You don't mean that."

  "I do mean it, Peter,” he said. “I'm going back into retirement as a performer. Duane has said he would be interested in hearing any songs I write."

  Peter kept silent for a moment. “Look, take off a couple of weeks, and then rejoin the tour after the New Year."

  "Peter, I was signed to fill in until December. I've kept my part of the contract. I find that I don't crave the performance as much as I thought I did. I don't want to come back and I do not have to come back.” He hung up the phone and ignored Peter's return calls.

  Johnny stopped at his hotel room door and turned around. He went to the nanny's room and picked up Charles. He needed his son more than he needed sleep. Some things are just more important, he thought.

  * * * *

  The sky threatened snow for the official start of winter. Clouds rolled in from the southwest, and the wind ushered cold air into the valley. Manuel had picked him up from the airport and they drove to his house without conversation. Manuel did not know what to say. Johnny had nothing to say. He thought about Natalie.

  James told him that she looked frail, but he would say nothing else. Johnny understood; James was a traditionalist. Natalie was more than a woman to him; she was a holy relic. The hills and mesas paraded by the window, and after a long while, Manuel turned the old car into Johnny's driveway. Natalie sat in a rocking chair on the front porch.

  "She's been sitting out there waiting for you for days,” Manuel said. Johnny nodded. “I'll get your things. You get the baby."

  "Thanks, Manuel,” Johnny said. “I need to thank James and his wife, too."

  "You already have, Johnny,” Manuel said as he got out of the car.

  Johnny gathered Charles into his arms and made sure that the coat was buttoned as far as it would button. He pulled the hat down over the child's head.

  Natalie sat in the rocking chair wrapped in a shawl. A blanket covered her legs. Her hair blew with the north wind, white strands flying around her face. Wrinkles massed around her eyes and mouth, but both hinted at the young girl buried within age. Her face was gaunt and her fingers protruded from her hands like bony spikes. Johnny smiled.

  "Don't you think you should get inside?"

  "Johnny, I'm so glad you made it home,” she said. She pushed the shawl and blanket from her, letting them fall to the wooden floor. She struggled, but managed to stand on her own. “Bring Charles and let me
see him."

  Johnny complied. Charles giggled and laughed at Natalie. The child recognized his mother, despite her appearance. Natalie wiped away a tear.

  "Take him inside and warm him,” she said. “But come back because time is short. The old sun is setting and I must meet him at the horizon."

  Johnny said hello to James and his wife, placing Charles in their care. When he returned to the porch, Natalie stood, bent and cragged, staring toward the west.

  "I love you, Johnny.” She turned and transformed into the young maiden he met seven months earlier. “I do not wish to leave."

  "Then don't,” Johnny said. “Stay with me through the winter."

  She walked into his arms, kissing him with all of her attention. She pulled back, smiling. “You still don't understand, do you?” Natalie kissed his cheek and walked to the edge of the porch. When she turned, the old woman had returned.

  "This is the way it must be,” she said. “I must go now.” She took a step toward the steps. “Help me down, please."

  Johnny ran to her and let her put her weight, her insubstantial weight, on him. They got to the ground and she smiled.

  Johnny put his arms around Natalie. “I'm going to miss you."

  "I'm going to miss you and Charles,” she said. “Can you stand the pain?"

  "Can you, Natalie?” Johnny squeezed, but not tightly. He didn't want to crush the frail body in his arms. “I can stand it if you can."

  She pushed away. Her eyes glowed with wisdom and years, but they were the same eyes he saw in a small girl. “It's time."

  She turned and walked away. Johnny watched as she became smaller with distance. Her hobble made the walk slow and almost unbearable. Natalie stopped at the top of a hill and raised her arms toward the sun setting behind gray clouds. She collapsed.

  Fear flooded through Johnny as he saw her fall. He took a few steps toward his truck, but remembered that this was her way, not his. He stared toward the mound of clothing and flesh. As the last rays of diffuse light escaped behind the western hill, he thought he saw something crawl over the edge.

  He watched the horizon for hours after darkness covered the hills. The words flowed into his brain. When he could not ignore them, Johnny walked inside and added them to the song.