“Are you happy?” asks her mother.
“Deliriously so,” Justine says without hesitation.
“No more doubts?”
Slipping on her dress, Justine laughs. “I’ve learned that life can’t be predicted, nor fully planned, so I have to let go of trying to guide the future. Like you, Mom, I’ve learned to like surprises.”
Lucrezia raises a sculptured eyebrow, laying the brush on the table. She knows her daughter well. “Will Egypt let their notorious codex thief back into the country?”
Justine tilts her head and grins. “Amir’s father has smoothed things out. Being married to an Egyptian makes a great difference, you know. As for doubts, Mom, these last months with the children and Amir have quieted the small doubts I had.” She didn’t say, for now anyway. Justine shakes her head as though to free her thoughts and reaches for her broad-brimmed matching hat, situating it askance on her caramel-colored hair. The two women await the arrival of Giovanna who will pass summary judgment on her readiness to be a bride.
Directly in Justine’s line of sight sits the D. H. Lawrence cabin, the rooms scattered now with small, linen-topped tables. A crackling fire struggles to take the early spring chill off the four rooms that once housed Lawrence and Frieda, then dozens of writers in the 60s and 70s. The scent of piñon perfumes the air. O’Keeffe’s Red Poppy poster no longer hangs in redemption of the aged kitchen, now refurbished for today’s festivities. In the open field just over the eastern fence, near the Lawrence pine, a white tent stands ready for the evening events—dancing, singing, sharing, toasting. Nearby, a sizeable pit releases ribbons of steam from a roasting pig.
A perfect day for a wedding.
Fifteen miles away, Justine’s father, Morgan, prepares to escort Amir from the couple’s home off Blueberry Hill to the ranch for the 4:00 ceremony. Morgan rented a tux in Albuquerque for Amir, which the young man at first resisted, later relenting. “My God, Morgan, we are getting married in an Indian ceremony on the side of a hill and I must wear a tux!” But he is good-natured about it. Certain revolutions take longer than others. Amir, admittedly stunning in his black tux, knows what battles are worth fighting. The months of healing and learning to be a father to the twins has taught him important lessons in patience. Working alongside local Taos and Hispanics on the acequia water system—originally an Arab invention, imported to New Mexico through Spain—he has found peace, even if he still sometimes experiences restlessness.
Back at the ranch, Justine watches as friends from the Taos Valley, Santa Clara Pueblo, and Santa Fe file by the big house, then Brett’s tiny cabin. They curiously cross in front of the buffalo painting on the south side of Lawrence’s cabin, now more vivid since Taya touched up the fading colors.
Chairs on the cabin lawn are arranged to face inward from the four directions, all focused toward the center where the ceremony will take place. As guests arrive, they are cleansed and purified by the smoke from cones of smoldering sage whisked on friends and family by Sharon and Lucinda. They are then seated by direction: on the North, the elders; on the South, married couples and children; to the East, the young men and warriors. And, this is where the practice varies: to the West, the single women, instead of the traditional warriors. Family members sit in a small inner circle.
Several minutes before 4:00, Lucinda’s daughter and her husband begin to play haunting tribal melodies on long wooden flutes. Mystical ancient tones float through the air, touching each person like a gentle tuning fork, evoking memories of long ago ceremonies. A veil of silence floats down over the crowd.
From the side of the cabin, Judy Lynn’s niece, a lovely child of six wearing a wreathe crown of marigolds and daisies, leads the procession. Her small hands clutch a miniature white satin pillow with two rings tied on top. Next comes Justine, holding her father’s arm. Amir’s sister, Samira, Taya, and Giovanna, all maids of honor, walk behind. Justine stares at the celebrated Lawrence pine, the ceremonial circle, then catches Amir’s adoring eyes. He stands with best men Bill Haller, Mike Sandoval, and Pablo Williams. Beside the men stands Lucinda in traditional tribal dress, flowing soft leather with fringed sleeves, small turquoise stones beaded across the white bodice. Her long black hair is held back by small braids at the temples. Cheyenne and Judy Lynn sit in the inner circle, eight month old Isabella on one lap and Ibrahim on the other. The twins catch one another’s fingers and giggle.
Justine and Amir face each other, then slowly turn toward Lucinda who initiates the ceremony. “Let us begin.” She turns to the bride. “Justine, what do you provide for this union of marriage?”
Lucrezia steps forward and hands the Bride’s basket, lined in cedar, to her daughter. Corn, peaches, strawberries, squash, beef jerky, and freshly baked bread protrude from under a red cloth covering.
“I provide these things to my husband and home,” Justine says, gazing at Amir. “They are a symbol that I will care for you and love you always.”
“Amir,” says Lucinda, turning. “What do you provide for this union of marriage?”
Samira comes forward and hands the Groom’s basket to her brother.
Amir nods to his sister and says, “I provide these things to my wife. They are a symbol that I will provide, love, and protect our family always.”
“You may exchange baskets,” directs Lucinda. Justine and Amir set their baskets in front of the other and join hands.
“I offer you this special blessing,” says Lucinda:
Above you are the stars, below you are the stones.
As time does pass, remember;
Like a star should your love be constant.
Like a stone should your love be firm.
Be close, yet not too close.
Possess one another, yet be understanding.
Have patience with the other, for storms will come, but they will go quickly. Be free in giving of affection and warmth.
Make love often, and be sensuous to one another.
Have no fear, and let not the ways of words of the unenlightened give you unease. For the Great Spirit is with you, now and always.”
Then Lucinda quietly steps back as an evocative siren of flutes again fills the air. The guests stand or sit in stillness. After several moments, Lucinda nods and continues, “Please repeat after me--.”
“I, Justine, take you, Amir, as my husband. I do solemnly avow my love for you. I will comfort you, keep you, love you, defend you in sickness or in health, in riches or poverty, in sorrow or joy, seeking only to be with you until death parts us. All these things I pledge upon my honor.”
Justine continues. “This poem is one of my favorites from D. H. Lawrence, my great-grandfather.” She recites words from Mystery:
Now I am all one bowl of kisses,
Such as the tall, slim votaresses of Egypt.
I lift to you my bowl of kisses, and through
The temple’s blue recesses cry out to you
In wild caresses . . . .
And still before the altar I exult the bowl brimful,
And cry to you to stoop and drink, most high.
Oh drink me up that I may be within your cup like
A mystery, like wine that is still in ecstasy.
A tear of gratitude moves down Justine’s cheek, as Lucrezia and Samira step forward, each holding one edge of a blue wedding blanket, ready to wrap it around the bride and groom, an action that is not to be. Baby Isabella chooses this moment to slip off Cheyenne’s lap and take wobbly first steps toward her mother, burying her face in Justine’s full organdy skirt, swaying to and froe. “She’s walking!” exclaims Justine, picking up her daughter. Seeming not to want to be undone, Ibrahim wiggles and squeals, plops on the ground, gets up and plops again. Amir laughs, reaches over and sweeps his son into his arms. With Ibrahim in hand, he continues. “I, Amir, take you, Justine, as my wife. I do solemnly avow my love for you—and you,” he says ruffling Ibrahim’s hair as he finishes his vow.
Samira glances at Lucrezia, grins, and fold
s the wedding blanket, laying it over her arm.
Lucinda, laughing, says, “Shall we?” She pauses. “Circles have no beginning and no end, and so in the long and sacred tradition of marriage, rings have come to symbolize eternal love and endless union of body, of mind, and of the spirit.”
Handing Ibrahim back to Judy Lynn, Amir unties the rings from the small satin pillow, kisses Judy Lynn’s niece on the cheek, and hands one ring to Justine. He continues, “This ring is a symbol of my love and faithfulness. And with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you, Justine, and pledge to you my love and life.” He places the ring on Justine’s hand.
She smiles wide, repeats Amir’s words, and positions the simple gold band on his third finger.
Then Lucinda concludes, “Father Sky and Mother Earth, creator and nurturer of all life, we give heartfelt thanks for the moment that brought Justine and Amir together in the Holy State of Marriage. Now as you both have consented together in matrimony and have pledged your faith to each other by the giving and the receiving of rings before your family and community, according to the powers invested in me by my own people and the state of New Mexico, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Lucinda grins and whispers to Amir, “You may kiss the bride now.”
Later, at the reception. “How about your work, Justine?” asks an Elder from Santa Clara standing before her in the reception line.
“The project is in good hands, my friend. The excavation of Hupobi is nearly complete, but the small fetish I saw hasn’t turned up. Sometimes I think I was dreaming, in spite of the photo I took!”
“Best to leave it to Mother Earth,” says the Elder, patting her hand.
Justine nods knowingly and returns the pat.
“When are you leaving?” asks Cheyenne, next in line, holding Isabella, fast asleep on her shoulder.
“At the beginning of June. We’ll fly to Florence to see my parents, then on to Cairo. Amir is eager to return. His parents were not well enough to come to the wedding—and, of course, much remains to be done to fulfill the revolution . . . .”
“And you, Justine? Are you eager to return?” asks her father as he hands her a glass of champagne.
FACTUAL EPILOGUE
•The Muslim Brotherhood candidate for the Peace and Freedom Party, Mohamed Morsi, is elected President of Egypt in June, 2012. He is overthrown in a military coup in July, 2013 led by Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, who is elected President, May, 2014.
•Kateri Tekakwitha is made a Saint by Pope Benedict in December, 2012. Giovanna Paponetti, and representatives from Indian pueblos throughout North America, attend the ceremonies.
•Scott Ortman’s Winds from the North, the text explaining the rationale for the sudden departure of the peoples of Mesa Verde is published in 2012.
•The D.H. Lawrence Ranch, Taos, is reopened in the spring of 2012.
•The Northern New Mexican Midwifery Center closed in the summer of 2014, reopening as the Womens’ Health Clinic in January, 2015.
THE END OF THE JUSTINE TRILOGY AUTHOR NOTES
HISTORICAL, CULTURAL, AND RELIGIOUS CONTEXT OF THE ADVENTURES OF JUSTINE JENNER
While the exploits of Justine and Amir are fictional, these exploits are situated in truth: the struggles and fate of Egypt and the Lawrence Ranch; the successful return of Blue Lake and Sacred Mountain to the Tiwa; the canonization of Kateri Tekakwitha by Pope Benedict; the exploration of Hupobi led by Pablo Williams; the theories and understandings of the migration of Mesa Verde peoples held by the Tewa Pueblo peoples of Santa Clara and Scott Ortman; the history of D. H. Lawrence and Mable Dodge Luhan; the tunnels under Taos; the joint acequia project between the Taos Pueblo and the Taos Community; the remarkable relationship between the Northern New Mexico Birth Center and Holy Cross Hospital; and, the ravens, intelligent and strategic beings who recognize people, choose to eat with wolves, and are monogamous. The following individuals granted permission to be presented in this novel as actual characters: Giovanna Paponetti; Bill Haller; Paul (Pablo) Williams; Melissa Serfling, owner of Red Cat Melissiana; Kosta Papamanolis; and Scott Ortman. Other characters are amalgamations of Taosenos who have generously given of their time and knowledge.
Justine Jenner’s Maternal Lineage:
•Lucrezia Cellini Jenner, mother; Morgan Jenner, father
•Laurence Bashour Cellini (formerly Laurence Hassouna), grand-mother; Anwar Bashour, grand-father; Benvenuto Cellini, step-grandfather who adopted Lucrezia after the death of her father
•Isabella Hassouna, great-grandmother; Ahmed Hassouna, great-grandfather of record; D. H. Lawrence, great-grandfather
D. H. Lawrence Language Choices:
Lawrence wrote more that 5000 letters, many of which were written during the period 1926-1930, right up to the time of his death. The created letters in this novel seek to be faithful to his voice, pre-occupations, his history, and language choices. For instance, he tended to use “sympathies” for what today might be expressed as “empathy.” Lawrence felt that the deepest forms of human knowing were “instinctual” and “intuitive.” “Phallic consciousness” meant the source of human emotion. He also used language that is ethnically and racially inappropriate, although not rare in his days, such as Mabel’s “red man.”
The Tiwa-Tewa Pueblo Indian distinction
The Tiwa are groups of related Tanoan pueblo peoples in New Mexico. They traditionally speak a Tiwa language, and are divided into the two Northern Tiwa groups, in Taos and Picuris, and the Southern Tiwa in Isleta and Sandia, around Albuquerque. The Taos group is frequently referred to as the Red Willow people.
The Tewa (or Tano) are a linguistic group of Pueblo Indians who speak the Tewa language, one of the five Tanoan languages, and share the Pueblo culture Tiwa. Their homelands are on or near the Rio Grande in New Mexico north of Santa Fe. The six Tewa-speaking pueblos are Nambe, Pojoaque, San Ildefonso, San Juan, Santa Clara, and Tesuque.
Chapter 17: The mountain lion story was inspired by a true story written by Kay Like. The 1923 Lawrence scene is adapted from his poem “Mountain Lion.”
Chapter 29: D. H. Lawrence and his wife, Frieda, sailed for England on the SS Resolute on September 10, 1925, never to return. In his imagination and in his letters, the Kiowa Ranch, now known as the D. H. Lawrence Ranch, remained his home for the rest of his life.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I WISH TO ACKNOWLEDGE and extent gratitude to the following generous individuals and groups: Bill and Jan Haller, Giovanna Paponetti, Paul Williams, Jeff Boyer, Linda Yardley, Dolly and Fred Peralta, Liz Cunningham, Skip Miller, Art Bachrach, Tessie Naranjo, Porter Swentzell, David Fernandez, David Farmer, Scott Ortman, Robin Collier, Roberta Myers, Ouray Myers, Mary Lane Leslie, Jan Mellor, Janice Razo, Gal Tabib, Nita Murphy, Heather Nelson, Melissa Serfling, C.J. Johnson, Norm Ferguson, and Anne Marie Petrokubi. The staffs of The Mable Dodge Luhan House, Taos Public Library, The Southwest Research Center, New Mexico Historical Museum, and the caretakers of the D. H. Lawrence Ranch have been remarkably giving of their time. Continuing support has been forthcoming from my California colleagues: Emily Nelson, Ida Egli, Kosta P’manolis, Judith Fisher, Peggy Berryhill, Alice Combs, Mary Gardner, and Julie Morita. And scores of Taosenas and members of the Mendonoma Coast communities.
A special thanks to my son, Tod Green, for his ingenious knowledge of social media, and to my invaluable editors: Ida Egli, Morgan Lambert, Judith Fisher, and Caitlin Alexander. I thank my publisher, Mark Bernstein, West Hills Press, for his support and faith in the Justine Trilogy.
Linda Lambert
Santa Rosa, California
www.lindalambert.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LINDA LAMBERT, Ed.D., is a full time author of novels and texts on leadership and professor emeritus, California State University, East Bay. During Dr. Lambert’s career, she has been a social worker, teacher, principal, director of county and district adult learning programs, as well as a university professor, state department envoy to Egypt, and international co
nsultant. Her international consultancies have taken her to Egypt, Lebanon, Morocco, England, Thailand, Mexico, Canada, and Malaysia. Lambert is the author of dozens of articles and lead author of The Constructivist Leader (1995, 2002), Who Will Save Our Schools (1997), Women’s Ways of Leading (2009), and Liberating Leadership (2015); she is the author of Building Leadership Capacity in Schools (1998) and Leadership Capacity for Lasting School Improvement (2003). The first novel in The Justine Trilogy, The Cairo Codex (2013) has been widely acclaimed. It was the winner of the Silver Nautilus Award, the Bronze IPPY Award, and a finalist in U.S.A. Best Books. The second novel in the trilogy, The Italian Letters was released in 2014. She lives with her husband, Morgan, a retired school superintendent, in Santa Rosa, California.
A Rapture of Ravens: Awakening in Taos: A Novel (The Justine Trilogy) Page 31