Shaxoa's Gift

by Gladden, DelSheree

  I cried on her shoulder, wishing it was Uriah’s arms around me instead of hers.

  “Daniel, you must leave,” Quaile said. Her eyes and voice made it plain that she was quickly reaching her limit of patience with him.

  “But, I want to stay with her. I can’t be away from her,” he said. His agonized denial strained my resolve even more.

  “What about your parents, young man?” Quaile’s accusing voice made him wince. “You will have a hard time explaining why you’re in New Mexico if your parents find out that you left camp without permission for the weekend.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to get back? Take a bus?” Daniel asked.

  The combative tone of his voice made Quaile’s jaw tighten. She refused to listen to people when they didn’t speak to her with full respect. I expected her to berate Daniel as she would any other, but instead her wrinkled face softened.

  “There are no buses here,” Quaile said. “Someone will have to drive you.” Quaile glanced around the room hopefully.

  “I’ll take him back,” my brother, Cole, said.

  I wanted to run to Cole and hug him fiercely. He looked at me with sympathy, an apology on his face. He had gone with Uriah to track Daniel down. I could tell that he felt partially responsible for the pain and confusion I felt. I managed a weak smile at him through my tears. He’d only done what he had to so he and Uriah could save my life. I could never lay blame at anyone’s feet except my father’s.

  Daniel wasn’t nearly as pleased as I was about Cole’s offer. Scowling, Daniel folded his arms across his chest. Watching him, I wondered at the gods’ choice. He was so unlike Uriah. Uriah was strong and serious, thoughtful and considerate. Whenever we were together I knew every ounce of his attention was on me, making sure I was happy and loved.

  I knew it was unfair to say that Daniel was none of those things, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t give myself any more reasons to love him. If I was going to be able to stay true to my love for Uriah, I knew I couldn’t allow myself even the smallest amount of affection for Daniel. Perhaps that would never make sense to anyone but me, but I couldn’t bear giving Uriah up.

  “Daniel, the camp counselors will notice you’re gone if I don’t get you back soon. We should go,” Cole said. He put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, pulling him toward the door.

  “Why don’t you take the car this time,” my mother, Sarah Brant, said dryly. She tossed the keys to him without letting go of me. “Those motorcycles weren’t supposed to leave the garage and you knew it.” The look on her face said that she did not appreciate Cole’s choice in vehicles when he left with Uriah two days earlier. My mother had thrown a fit when my father bought the motorcycles a few weeks ago and forbade him to ever use them.

  Cole shrugged casually under my mother’s gaze, but when she looked away he cringed, knowing that he would hear more about the topic when he got back. Grabbing Daniel’s shoulder a little tighter, Cole pushed him toward the door. “Let’s get going, Daniel.”

  “But,” Daniel started.

  “It is time for you to go,” Quaile said stiffly.

  I watched Quaile carefully from my mother’s side. I couldn’t understand why she was suddenly pushing Daniel away. She had been the one to deny Uriah and I the right to marry on tribal lands. She’d claimed that we weren’t Twin Souls, that we would each meet our true Twin Souls in the future and be torn apart. When we refused to accept her answer, saying that we would simply leave San Juan Pueblo to be married, she had begged us not to ignore her advice.

  Now she was ushering away the man she had said I would find ultimate happiness with. Quaile had slipped away right before Uriah left me, and only returned after he was gone. Had she spoken with him? Was there something she wasn’t telling me? There was so much that had happened that no one had had the chance to explain to me. What happened on Uriah’s journey to find Daniel? As soon as Daniel and the bond were safely away from me, I was determined to get some answers.

  Quaile pushed Daniel and Cole further away. “Get him back safely, Cole.”

  “I will,” Cole said. He was clearly eager to leave.

  “I’ll be back soon, Claire,” Daniel said.

  His voice was filled with longing. His words pierced me like a double edged sword. My mind was screaming at me to go with him, to stay by his side for the rest of my life, but my heart pleaded with me to run away from him as fast as I could. Burying my head in my mother’s shoulder, I hid my face and the tears that were streaming down my cheeks. I kept my head down until I heard the soft click of the hardwood door shutting.

  With Daniel finally gone, a confusing tidal wave of emotions rushed through me, buckling my knees. My mother caught me before I could collapse completely and hurriedly set me in an old arm chair. “Oh, Mom, what’s happening to me?” I asked. My tears had disappeared, but a new set were on the verge of bursting out.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything will be okay,” she said. She stroked my hair gently as she attempted to soothe me.

  “But how? How will this ever be okay?” I asked. “Uriah is gone forever and I don’t know what to do without him. Daniel, he’s…I love him so much, but I…I…” My sobbing renewed, shaking my frame. Only the growing distance between myself and Daniel slowly began to lessen the consuming desire to have him, but only minimally.

  My mother’s lips parted, about to say something, but Quaile interrupted her. “Uriah is not gone forever, child,” she said. The tone of her voice seemed conflicted, and her words captured my hope.

  “He’s coming back?” I asked. “When?”

  “I don’t know.” Quaile hated being wrong, and hated even more not knowing the answer in the first place. “He told me to tell you that he still loves you and that he is not giving up yet.”

  Relief surged into my heart, almost strong enough to wash away the feelings of the Twin Soul bond that were threatening to tear me in two. I knew Uriah wouldn’t have walked away so easily, but why hadn’t he told me himself? Why would he leave me in agony only to send Quaile back in with a message a few minutes later?

  Uriah was never sneaky or dishonest, but I could feel that something was missing from Quaile’s explanation. She had disappeared first, perhaps waiting to speak with Uriah before he could leave me behind for good. What was she not telling me?

  “Where did he go?”

  “His search is his own. I suppose he will return when he’s found what he’s looking for,” Quaile said. Her words snapped off her tongue, quick and sharp.

  Hardly an answer at all, I knew she was keeping something back. “Where did he go, Quaile?” I asked, my voice high and tight. “What are you hiding from me?”

  “Do not take that tone of voice with me, Claire,” Quaile said. The words matched her usual temperament, but the uncertainty in her eyes did not belong. Sighing, her head dipped down. She looked years older than the last time I had seen her. “He loves you, Claire. I know little besides that.”

  The dejected tone of her voice was nearly enough to convince me that she truly didn’t know where Uriah had gone, but I couldn’t bring myself to trust her. This whole string of events had begun with her denying Uriah and I the right to marry. If she hadn’t denied us, my father would never have drugged my tea, trapping my soul and making the race to find Daniel so important.

  No, I couldn’t trust her to tell me the truth about Uriah.

  “Claire,” Quaile said, indecision making her falter, “if Uriah is what you truly want, you must hold onto him. You must do it alone.”

  Her head turned to gaze at the front door. She looked back at me and reached up to place what I think was supposed to be a comforting hand on my shoulder. Her frown turned into a pain-filled grimace and her body jerked suddenly. Quickly, she tore her hand away and stepped back. “I have business with the Elders.” Without a backward glance, she was gone.

  Her reaction to touching me, and her abrupt departure, left me staring at the plain wood door. If Uriah is what I truly want? O
f course he was, I told myself firmly. I’d already told her that. More than what she said, her reaction to me bothered me even more. Right away I thought of Uriah’s painful reaction to touching me, but that didn’t make sense. She’d touched me plenty of times before, a hand shake or pat on the shoulder, but she had never reacted like that before. There must have been some other reason.

  I wanted to ask her about it, but what I needed was an explanation of what was happening. Why did she offer me advice, only to run away right after without explaining anything to me? I had no answer to soothe my simmering frustration. I would never understand Quaile, but I did wish that I could trust her.

  “I don’t believe her,” I said. “She knows where Uriah is and what he’s doing. Why won’t she tell me?”

  “I can’t even begin to understand that woman,” my mother said.

  Despite not being born into the Native American Tewa tribe, my mother had still always held a great deal of respect for the Elders and the traditions of the tribe. To hear her refer to Quaile as “that woman” surprised me. Something had definitely happened to put Quaile at odds with those who had always considered her a sage advisor.

  “What happened while I was asleep?” I asked.

  My mother’s step faltered, but she wrapped an arm lovingly around my shoulders as she sat down next to me. Holding nothing back, she told me of how my father had gone to the Shaxoa, the tribal witch, and poisoned my tea with the herbs she had given him. She told me how Quaile told them there was an antidote, but only my Twin Soul could administer it.

  Quaile had given Uriah hope that he might keep the bond from forming, only to betray him later when she revealed that Daniel’s blood had to be mixed into the antidote. The thought of having Daniel’s blood inside of me was disturbing, but nowhere near as sickening as hearing of what Quaile had done to Uriah. I had been right to mistrust her words.

  Hugging me when her tale was done, my mother whispered once again that everything would be alright. I was grateful for her honesty, but there was still so much I didn’t understand. “Where is Dad?” I asked. Thoughts of where I hoped he was, somewhere painful and terrifying, floated through my mind.

  My mother bristled at my words. “I sent him home,” she said. “He’ll be dealt with, don’t worry.” Letting her anger fall away, she smoothed my hair. “Uriah’s mother said that you are welcome to stay here as long as you want. Or I can send your father to his sister’s if you want to come home right away.”

  I knew it must have been hard for her to offer to let me stay away. My mother was my best friend aside from Uriah, but given the choice, I couldn’t go home, not when I needed every reminder of Uriah I could get to stave off the overpowering urges of the Twin Soul bond.

  “I think I’ll stay here for now, Mom,” I said. My words came out as a whisper.

  Her lip trembled only slightly, but her words said she understood. “Alright, Claire, whatever you need. I’m here for you. I always will be.”

  “Thanks, Mom. There’s just so much I still don’t understand. I feel so lost without Uriah.” I wondered where he was, what he was thinking, even as I struggled not to think about Daniel at all. In the past year, the only time I ever had to wonder what Uriah was thinking was when we were apart. Uriah’s expressive face revealed every thought and emotion. Not knowing what he was doing brought fresh tears to my eyes. I pushed them away quickly. Crying wasn’t going to help me.

  “Are you hungry, honey?” my mother asked.

  I knew she was trying to distract me, and I appreciated the effort. My mouth felt dry and sticky, but my body craved nothing but Uriah, though a large part of my mind was still screaming for Daniel. “Food sounds great, Mom,” I lied.

  Rubbing my arm briskly before standing up, my mom waited for me to follow. Slowly I stood, taking a deep breath. The worn wooden floorboards creaked softly as we crossed the living room. I looked toward the kitchen and saw the familiar row of pictures lining the low wall cabinet near the kitchen door.

  I saw my own face dotted among the many family photos and felt Uriah’s lack of presence even stronger. One photo in particular halted my steps. Uriah and I were posed between his parents. Uriah’s father, Notah, had his big arm around my shoulder and wore a pleasant smile. He had always treated me like I was already part of his little family. I stared at the picture. It looked perfect, exactly how life was meant to be. The doubt that held me in its grasp had me wondering whether I would ever see my happy ending.

  I looked away from the photo, turning back to the living room and staring into the fire. The warmth from the fireplace should have been much too hot for the late summer afternoon, but I let it wrap around me. It was a poor substitute for my sweet Uriah’s arms. My mom, who had stopped beside me, put her arm around my shoulder and gently urged me to continue toward the kitchen.

  Sliding into a chair at the smooth, butcher block table, I ran my fingers along the edge of the wood. Uriah and I had spent so many afternoons sitting at that table. Every inch held memories of Uriah helping me with homework, us feeding each other homemade snacks that didn’t always work out quite right, and so many other beautiful hours spent together.

  “Here you are, Claire,” Sophia said, setting a steaming bowl on the table in front of me. The thick soup smelled delicious, but I could only dip the spoon in and out without ever bringing it to my lips. It took several minutes before I realized that my mother had left the room. Glancing around, I met Sophia’s eyes without meaning to.

  Since waking, not one person had been able to look at me without their face frowning with pity and sadness. Sophia’s eyes were steady and serious. Holding my gaze, Sophia sat down at the table across from me. For a long while, she said nothing. The silence should have been uncomfortable, but Sophia seemed to radiate strength and confidence. I sat quietly, praying I could soak up even a portion of her ability to face a challenge with such poise.

  “You’re stronger than you think you are, Claire,” Sophia finally said.

  My eyebrows rose, questioning her assessment. “I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m about to collapse into a miserable puddle of sludge.”

  Sophia smirked. “You look like you’re about to collapse into a puddle of sludge.”

  I leaned forward, letting my hair fall over my shoulders to hide my face. Sophia’s sure hand touched my chin and lifted my head up so I was facing her again. “He’ll be back, Claire. And when he comes back, he’ll find an even stronger Claire than he left behind.”

  “But what if he doesn’t come back,” I asked. Salty tears escaped from the corners of my eyes.

  Sophia’s smile was warm and comforting. “Do you really believe Uriah would abandon you?”

  “No,” I said, “I don’t.”

  But he almost did, didn’t he? What had made him change his mind?

  “Then don’t worry about it again,” Sophia said. Sitting up straight, she reverted to her usual no-nonsense manner. “Now, Uriah’s mother still needs help around the house. I have other patients that need tending to, and if you’re going to be staying here, I expect you to do your share.”

  “Of course,” I said quickly. “I’ll do whatever she needs me to.”

  Uriah’s mother, Lina, was still mending after being attacked by a starving mountain lion a few days earlier. The damage would leave behind massive scars, but only a few days later I had no doubt she was probably already speaking of the incident as if it were no big deal. Only a few hours after the attack, when I had seen her, she was more concerned about me and Uriah than herself.

  I suspected that her casual attitude was mainly for Uriah’s sake. He had been across the ranch when the deranged cat found and attacked Lina. He blamed himself for what happened to her, and with the stress he was already under trying to run the ranch without his father, Lina would do anything to lighten her son’s burdens.

  “You know,” Sophia said, “most people around here think that because I left the pueblo to become a nurse, I’ve turned my back on my
Tewa heritage, but they’re wrong.”

  I was embarrassed to admit that I had thought of Sophia in exactly that way. The way she argued with every word our tribal shaman, Quaile, said and turned her nose up at talk of legends and myths, I would never have guessed that she cared at all about her Native American heritage. In fact, I’d often wondered why she even came back to the pueblo. She could make a much better living in Albuquerque than in San Juan.

  “I have studied what little writings there are left about our tribe. I love the stories and myths I grew up hearing, and I believe in many of them, including Twin Souls,” Sophia said.

  I couldn’t resist interrupting. “Then why do you argue with Quaile so much and put down the legends people tell? I thought you hated all of those things.”

  Sophia didn’t even flinch at the accusations. She had probably faced the same questions many times before. “No, I don’t hate any of it. I’m proud to be Tewa, but I guess I see things a little differently than other people do. When I hear stories about Twin Souls, I don’t hear a story about how love conquers all, I hear a warning about letting your life be controlled by what someone else has told you must be.”

  Sophia’s hands reached out for mine and I immediately took them. “I believed that Twin Souls were real even before this mess your father created, but I never believed that finding your Twin Soul would bring you any greater happiness than simply falling in love with the person you chose yourself. Love has to be earned in either case, and I believe you and Uriah have earned the right to be together regardless of what anyone else might say.”

  “But these feelings are so strong, Sophia. Half of me wants to run after Daniel and the other half is begging for Uriah to walk back through the door. My head and heart feel like they’re waging war with each other, and I don’t know which one will win,” I said. “If I slip even for a second, I can feel Uriah starting to fade from my mind. I don’t know how to fight against something like that.”

  “Yes, you do, Claire. You've been fighting since the poisoned tea touched your lips. Keep Uriah close to your heart and he’ll never slip away,” she said. Releasing my hands, Sophia stood and turned back to the stove. “Eat your food, Claire. It will make you feel much better.”