Gardens in the Dunes

by Leslie Marmon Silko

  But they were no sooner in the shade of the giant oaks along the park drive when Mr. Hyslop oddly complained of the sunlight and closed the coach curtain next to himself, then excused himself and leaned in front of Hattie to reach the curtain next to her. The instant the curtains were closed, Mr. Hyslop suddenly embraced Hattie. He pinned her against the seat with his chest and shoulders, while one hand sought to pull her around to face him and the other hand fumbled, then grabbed her right breast with the cloth of her dress. Too startled to scream, Hattie struggled and twisted away while she gave him a good kick in his ankle. Her dress was askew and her hair pulled loose from the pins. She retreated to the far corner of the carriage seat with her heart pounding and angrily opened the curtain next to her. She stared out at the activity in the park though she scarcely saw anything, she was so shaken. Hattie waited for Mr. Hyslop’s litany of apologies to begin momentarily, but she was further shakened after he remained silent and strangely aloof. Hattie felt the blood rush to her cheeks when she realized that Mr. Hyslop was angry with her for disappointing his expectations!

  She immediately signaled the driver to stop and left Hyslop without another word. Tears filled her eyes as she hurried home through the park in the rainy mist. She rearranged her hair as best she could and glanced around to see if any of the picnickers or people strolling with their dogs had witnessed her hasty exit from the carriage; but no one seemed to have noticed. While her confidence in her entire life and her very being were changed forever, ordinary life went on without cease.

  Lucille opened the front door, took one look at Hattie, and knew immediately what had happened. “Oh honey! He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  Hattie shook her head, but tears filled her eyes as Lucille embraced her gently.

  “Please don’t tell Mother,” Hattie whispered. “I’m only shaken up.” After she fell ill, Lucille had to tell Mrs. Abbott, and Hattie admitted Mr. Hyslop’s crime.

  The door latch seemed stuck, or maybe she misunderstood how this one worked. There were so many different sorts of door latches at the school, and now here—press down, lift up, twist left, twist right. Indigo put her face close to the glass door and peered inside. At first the objects she saw made no sense to her; then she noticed identical red clay pots with strange skeletons and dried remains of plants all lined up in rows on the floor. She could not see clearly, but there were vines of green leaves and hanging pods of white flowers that formed a canopy above everything in the glass house.

  She wasted no more effort on the door latch because all the slanting windows were open, just wide enough that if Indigo lay on her back and made herself as flat as possible, she could get in. As she rolled in, she noticed the warmth and dampness with the wonderful odor of rich earth; there was an odd animal smell as well. The light inside surprised her with its brightness despite the canopy of vines. The smooth gray branches snaked across and enclosed the ceiling entirely and had begun to push outside through the open vent windows in the ceiling. She saw a flash of motion out of the corner of her eye and turned; it was the little hairy man, jumping from side to side of a big cage. The polished brass cage filled the entire east end of the glass house; near the cage, draped with long wisteria blossoms, Indigo noticed a bench carved out of white stone.

  “Hello,” she said softly as she approached the cage. “I know you want to get out.” She recognized the latch on the cage door was a close relative of the brass latches on the school’s closets. Out he came, chattering his gratitude. He wrapped his long curling tail around the bars of the cage to steady himself as they studied each other closely. He had shining golden eyes and he seemed to understand the language of the Sand Lizard people when she spoke to him.

  “I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

  The monkey blinked its eyes and rubbed its hand on its thigh; it looked down inside the cage and Indigo saw the crockery bowls, one full of water, the other with the remains of chopped vegetables and fruit sprinkled with shelled nuts. The monkey looked over its shoulder at Indigo eating from his bowl, then gleefully bounded up the outside of the cage and disappeared into the wisteria. While she ate, she listened to the rustle of the branches and leaves overhead; then a twig of blossoms dropped on the stone floor next to her. She glanced up but saw nothing. Behind her another twig of pendulous blossoms fell, then another and another; as Indigo reached down to pick up a twig, she felt something thud against her back. This time when she looked up she saw bright eyes in the leaves and she laughed. Her mouth and face felt odd; the sounds she made seemed strange because she had not laughed out loud for a long time. Her laughter delighted the little monkey, who raced through the vine canopy throwing down the fragrant blossoms until the gray stone floor was nearly covered.

  They played hide-and-seek among the long rows of benches—most were empty, but a number of them were lined with clay pots of shriveled stalks and leaves. They took turns; the monkey hid first. After she found him, she ran as fast as she could and crawled under one of the wicker chairs by the table, where she lay motionless until she felt his little hands pat her on the back. She got up and sat on the wicker settee to rest; the monkey climbed up and sat beside her. She looked around at the glass house and wished Sister Salt could be here to see it for herself; otherwise she might not believe it when Indigo told her.

  Indigo laid her head against the arm of the settee and the monkey laid his head against the other arm of the settee. She knew she had to find a place to hide before she fell asleep. Just then the monkey jumped up and stood on the back of the wicker settee; he looked at the door and rubbed his hands together anxiously. Indigo jumped to her feet and ran to the farthest end of the glass house and looked around desperately for cover. She heard the footsteps and then the sound of the door latch, and she had no choice but to crawl over the dead plants in their clay pots and lie facedown as flat as she could make herself so the rows of clay pots and shade might conceal her.

  Hattie was unpacking a box of books in her study when she heard Edward call her name. She hurried to the stairs, where Edward met her with a perplexed expression. Had she fastened the latch on the monkey’s cage yesterday? Hattie was irritated that Edward thought she had not properly secured the cage door, but she knew the monkey meant a great deal to him.

  He had been out there just now and found the monkey loose in the wisteria, scattering leaves and vines inside the greenhouse. Edward held an empty crockery bowl; the monkey was out of water.

  “Oh no!” Hattie put her hand to her cheek. “That can’t be! I filled the bowl with water myself!” She hurried down the stairs and out to the conservatory.

  Wilting wisteria blossoms and leaves were strewn all over the floor, and over the benches and old clay pots as well. No harm; the wisteria thrived on severe pruning, and the monkey had only done a bit of thinning. The monkey sat on the top of the cage with his head in the wisteria leaves and refused to come down. Hattie stepped inside the cage and was surprised to see no bits of fruit or vegetable peelings on the cage bottom, where the monkey fastidiously tossed all refuse.

  Edward brought a handful of peanuts and waved it invitingly at the monkey, but the little creature refused to come to him.

  “Linnaeus! Come down! Come! Linnaeus!” Edward stood on a rattan chair to reach the handful of peanuts higher but the monkey scampered away into the thick green canopy.

  “This isn’t like him at all!” Edward continued. “I don’t understand it.” Hattie turned to Edward.

  “I know what it might be,” she said, and she began to walk slowly and look under the benches. “Linnaeus has found a new friend.” Edward smiled and nodded his head. Of course, he should have guessed from the start; the little Indian had opened the cage to take the monkey’s food and water.

  Edward did not want to crawl under the benches among the clay pots to reach the Indian child. He left Hattie to watch that the Indian child did not escape while he sent the cook in the buggy to alert the boarding school superintendent. Although the child ha
d remained motionless since Hattie first spotted her, Hattie could hear the child’s fast shallow breathing.

  “Please don’t be afraid,” Hattie said softly. “Nobody will harm you. Please come out. I won’t let them hurt you.” The monkey climbed down the bars of the cage and crept along under the benches until he was next to the child. Hattie smiled.

  “I understand, Linnaeus; she is your friend.”

  Edward returned after a time with a short length of rope.

  “No need for that,” Hattie said. “Linnaeus came down of his own accord. He’s under there with the child.” Edward squatted with the rope in his hands and peered intently under the bench into the mess of pots and debris, and Hattie realized the rope was intended for the child.

  “Please, Edward, she hasn’t moved. She can’t get away. Let’s wait until the school authorities come.” Hattie took his arm and nodded her head in the direction of a white marble bench strewn with ripped-up wisteria leaves and blossoms. Edward let the rope drop to the floor before he joined her. She appeared upset with him, so he apologized at once. He never meant to imply she neglected the monkey. She wasn’t so sensitive as that, Hattie replied; she was concerned about the Indian child. The rope really was beyond the limit!

  The rope had been only a precaution—for the child’s own good, so that she did not escape and flee into the desert, Edward persisted. Riverside people were familiar with runaways from the Indian school; Hattie had no experience with Indians—certainly not these wild Indians.

  Edward took his watch from its pocket. What was taking so long? The boarding school was only two miles down the road. Edward went up to the house to see what had become of the cook and the message to the school authorities.

  After Edward shut the door behind him, Hattie sat very still and waited; after a time, she watched the child lift her head to look around. The monkey came out from under the bench first, followed by the child, on her hands and knees, who then stood up. They both ignored Hattie as they marched up the middle aisle of the glass house to the monkey’s cage, only a few feet from the marble bench.

  She watched the monkey and child sit side by side on the monkey’s straw mat, where they took turns rolling the monkey’s toy ball to each other. Both the child and the animal seemed to know their holiday together would soon end. A terrible wave of sadness and hopelessness welled up in Hattie, more overwhelming than anything she had felt during the thesis scandal, and her eyes filled with tears. She might not know much about “wild Indians” but she did know they were human beings.

  An unaccustomed anger sprang up inside her at that instant, and Hattie became determined the child would not be bound and dragged away like a criminal. She was still angry at the tone of voice Edward had used with her earlier, despite his apology. His tone revealed something disturbing about his impression of her—something she could not yet identify.

  Edward returned with an expression of frustration on his face. The school superintendent was away until the following week, and only the janitors and gardeners were on the premises. Any remaining students had been sent home for the summer or placed with local families to work until school started again. The dormitories were closed. The monkey and the child watched Edward’s every motion as he explained the Riverside sheriff would take the child until the superintendent returned next week.

  Hattie was incredulous that the school personnel so quickly called off their search for the missing child, even if it was the end of the school term. Edward reminded her the school personnel were government employees. Besides, the Indian students ran away constantly. Hattie was not persuaded. The child was too young to simply abandon! It was outrageous! It was criminal. Anything might happen to a child, especially a girl! Hattie noticed Edward’s surprise at the vehemence of her words, but she did not feel ashamed, she felt fierce. The Indian child meant nothing but trouble to the school authorities; they didn’t care if she was lost or died—that meant one less Indian they had to feed.

  “At least she can stay here with us until the school superintendent returns next week,” Hattie said in a more controlled voice.

  Edward was too surprised by Hattie’s display of emotion to argue, although he expressed concern the child might flee before the school authorities returned. Staff personnel at the school had warned him about the girl. She was from one of those renegade bands of desert Indians. She was a wild one.

  “Does she speak any English?” Hattie asked. Edward shrugged.

  “I wonder how old she is. What would you say?”

  This time Edward smiled and shook his head. “You’d be a better judge than I.” They both were looking at the child, who sat solemnly on the monkey’s mat watching them; the monkey sat quietly beside her.

  “We can’t leave her here,” Hattie said,

  The child could stay in one of the spare bedrooms until the authorities came for her. Edward was so relieved that Hattie was no longer upset, he failed to mention the Indian boys he hired from the school always slept on pallets in the tack room.

  Edward was annoyed at the sullen expression on the cook’s face when he asked her to prepare the spare room for the child. She muttered under her breath about being murdered in her sleep, and Edward recalled the cook used to fear that the Indian boys would leap up from their weeding and shoveling to ravish her.

  After Edward left, the monkey came out of the cage and approached Hattie confidently. It hopped up on the end of the marble bench and sat down beside her to examine the lace inset in the arm of her dress. Hattie sat very still while the monkey carefully fingered the delicate threads of the lace.

  “Linnaeus, you are a darling creature!” she said as she gently stroked the fur on his back. “I wonder, does your friend over there speak any English?” Hattie watched the girl’s facial expression for any shift that might indicate she understood Hattie’s remarks, but saw none. The sun was overhead now and the heat inside the greenhouse was quite noticeable; the glass panels badly needed a fresh coat of whitewash. Hattie stood up with the monkey in her arms and walked over to the door of the cage. The child’s dark eyes fixed on her every move. Hattie smiled and knelt down; the monkey went over to the child and took her hand as if to lead her to Hattie, but the child stayed put.

  Edward returned with a volume of linguistic surveys of various desert Indian tribes. He stood with Hattie at the door of the cage and began to attempt to pronounce words in Shoshone and Paiute to see if the child responded. All this time she had not moved from her place on the monkey’s pallet inside the cage. Edward went through the Agua Caliente and Cocopa words and was just beginning to struggle with words in Mojave when a big smile spread across the girl’s face and she laughed out loud. The monkey chattered excitedly and climbed to the cage top. The girl stood up and looked down at them confidently.

  “I talk English,” Indigo said. “I talk it way better than you talk Indian.”

  All morning Indigo had listened closely whenever the man and woman spoke, and she realized she understood English better than ever; there were only a few big words now she didn’t recognize. The monkey made it clear the woman was a friend of his. The appearance of the length of rope had alarmed Indigo, but the woman’s words caused the man to drop the rope; the woman’s words gave Indigo the confidence to speak.

  “Yes, you speak English very well,” Hattie said, amused at the child’s sudden boldness. Edward looked at the child and then at the photographs of the Indians of various tribes in the book. He tried to determine which tribe the child came from, but the school stripped the children of all evidence of their particular tribes.

  Indigo had intended to stay only three or four nights until the people least expected an escape. But the monkey did not want her to begin the journey yet; it was too hot and she would die along the way. The monkey sensed the approach of the desert heat. Hadn’t they taught her any better than that? Yes, she told the monkey; Grandma Fleet always said it was best to wait for cool weather to travel.

  Every morning she was u
p and washed and dressed as Hattie taught her; then she hurried down the stairs and out to the glass house to open Linnaeus’s cage. They walked in silence through the terraces and gardens in the vivid yellow light after the dawn. The air was warm and would get warmer as the sun rose. They washed in the water lily pool below the fountain and strolled down the steps to the back of the property to pick ripe oranges for breakfast. The monkey had strong fingers and was able to peel his orange and consume it before Indigo had eaten half of her orange. The monkey went into the branches and found ripe oranges heavy with juice. The monkey carried his oranges in the crook of each arm; he and Indigo ate them later in the afternoon. Indigo used the skirts of her dress to carry oranges for herself and for Hattie and Mr. Palmer.

  Hattie permitted Indigo to pull the bedcovers off to make a bed on the floor after Indigo told her that she was terrified she would fall. At the school they had tied her in her bed to stop her from sleeping on the floor, and that night Indigo had screamed until she was soaked with sweat. Indigo dreamed the red garden and the white garden were growing in the dunes and Mama and Grandma Fleet and Sister Salt were all there with her. They were all so happy with her because she brought back so many interesting seeds.

  Every morning Indigo and the monkey brought the oranges to the breakfast table, where the monkey offered an orange to Hattie, who bowed to the monkey as she accepted it; then the monkey went to Edward, who also bowed formally to the monkey as he accepted an orange. Hattie loved the child’s vivid imagination and the make-believe with the monkey; Edward was impressed as well with the rapport the child developed with the creature, and although he was a bit stiff with his formal bow to a monkey, even the monkey joined in the laughter they shared on this occasion.