White Heart, Lakota Spirit

by Ginger Simpson

  She smiled, but her misty eyes revealed a sadness Fawn had never seen before. “Have I told you how glad I am to have you in my life? I no longer have a mother to turn to, so I’m relying on you. My child and I need you.”

  * * * *

  Leaving Fawn to finish the final touches on the shirt, Green Eyes went to prepare dinner for her husband. Fawn put her sewing aside and stretched her hands over her head to ease the cramp in the small of her back. Male voices sounded outside. She scurried and hid the shirt then retrieved the stick used as a spit. Her thoughts were jumbled. How should she tell him about the baby? Should she wait? What if Green Eyes was wrong and there was no baby? Fawn pushed her muddled thoughts aside and speared a rabbit she had earlier cleaned.

  Little Elk slogged in, bringing a trail of snow with him. He removed his heavy parka and turned. Tiredness ringed his eyes with darkness, but his smile melted her heart. “Did you have a good day, my woman?”

  She lowered the spit to the two supporting sticks on either side of the fire. “Besides cleaning your dinner?”

  Taking his parka from him, she shook the remaining snow free and hung the heavy coat on the drying rack. “I also visited with Green Eyes. She has taught me so much about your people and their customs…as well as making me perfect my sewing skills.”

  “My nose can tell you have already mastered your cooking skills.” He sat and watched her turn the browning rabbit.

  Droplets of grease fell into the flames, splattered and sent fiery fingers into the air. She gasped and jumped back. “A person could get burned that way.”

  He chucked. “I am happy you move so fast. I much prefer my women with hair.”

  Fawn pulled her lips into a pout. “Here I nearly singe myself, and you make jokes. I may just shave my head to get even.”

  * * * *

  Little Elk finished the last bite of dinner and leaned back with a contented look on his face. “If your cooking gets any better, I will be the fattest brave in the village.” He picked his teeth with a thin piece of willow bark.

  Fawn gathered up the remaining bones. “I’ll bury these in the snow tomorrow. There is nothing that could make me go out into the cold tonight.”

  Glancing at Little Elk, she pondered whether this would be a good time to bring up having a child. She cleared away the last remnants of dinner, wiped her hands and sat next to him. She clasped her hands together to quell their trembling. “Uh…Little Elk, how do you feel about having children?”

  He stopped picking his teeth and stared into space. “Every man wants a son of whom he can be proud. I am no different. I watch my friends with their children and hope someday I will be a father.” He turned to look at her, his brow arched. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious, I suppose.” Her palms dampened.

  “Do you wish for a child?”

  Not wanting to make eye contact, she stared into her lap. “Until recently, I hadn’t given it much thought.”

  “Then why do you bring up the subject?”

  “Well…” She played with her braid. “You know I haven’t been feeling well lately, and…” She gazed up at him.

  He stared at her with eyes wide as a new moon. “A-are you…?”

  She grinned. “Possibly. Green Eyes reminded me that I haven’t been to the women’s hut in quite a while. If we have figured right, and the illness is truly what plagues an expectant mother, then by summer you will be a father.”

  He lunged from his seat and knelt before her. “I hope you do carry a child.” He took her hands in his. “Having a son would make me very happy.”

  “What if it’s a daughter?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, it will definitely be a son.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A break in the weather came three days before Christmas. Fawn donned her parka and ventured out, determined to find the perfect pine to decorate. Green Eyes met her at the edge of the compound, and they struggled to maintain their footing while slogging through the mounds of slush. Green Eyes giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Fawn asked.

  “I was thinking back to my first Christmas here. I did this very same thing, only I was heavy with child. I was so young then, I had no idea that the pains doubling me over were only the beginning of giving birth.” She tightened her fur wrapper. “I was so frightened when the water sac burst. I felt certain I was dying.”

  Fawn gasped. “What water sac?”

  “Oh, I am so sorry, Fawn. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I forget you are even younger than I was when Little Cloud was born. I should have given you the opportunity to ask questions instead of assuming you understood what happens when you carry a child.”

  “I wouldn’t even know what to ask. Like I said, Mama and I didn’t speak of womanly things. My brother was older, so I don’t even have experience with younger children. I’ve seen expectant women before…been around them at church socials and on the wagon train, but having a child was the furthest thing from my mind. I’m scared.”

  “Do not fear. I will tell you everything you need to know. With Rain Woman, Singing Sparrow and me by your side, everything will be fine. You need only concentrate on having a big, healthy son.”

  Fawn stomped her foot and almost lost her balance on the icy ground. “Why does everyone keep insisting I have a son? First Little Elk, and now you. What if I want to have a girl?”

  Green Eyes steadied her. “Do not be troubled. Men always want a son they can teach to hunt and fish. Having a man child is even more important to a Lakota father. Their people…our people have scattered to the four winds, fearing treaties and reservations, and following the dwindling buffalo herds to survive.” She stopped and smiled. “It is not so true in our tribe, but at the Sun Dance during the summer, I noticed far more women than men. Warriors die defending or trying to feed their families. Men want sons to carry on the bloodline, but if you have a daughter, I am certain Little Elk will pound his chest with just as much pride.”

  Fawn pulled her wrapper up over her nose. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you, and you’ve made me feel much better. But, can we get back to the reason we are out here in the freezing cold?” She hugged herself and scanned the area. “There are so many trees, but all are too big.”

  Green Eyes pointed. “Over there, how about that one?”

  “Oh perfect.” She stood back and admired a small pine sheltered by two larger ones. “This will be our Christmas tree.”

  * * * *

  Fawn shook the small sapling, ridding it of excess snow and possible critters before taking the tree inside. She propped the pine against the interior wall then removed her buffalo skin wrapper.

  For days, she’d strung red berries on sinew and had fashioned a small star from leftover deer hide. Green Eyes had been anxious to help decorate but Rain Woman summoned her to help tend a sick family. Left alone, Fawn gathered her garnishing items together and hummed Silent Night. But her holiday spirit faded when nothing worked to prop up the little pine. Exhausted and disappointed, she sagged down on her sleeping mat and cried.

  * * * *

  She woke to someone shaking her. “Fawn, wake up. Are you all right?”

  Her heavy lidded eyes focused on Little Elk. She rose on her elbow and squinted into the waning firelight. “I must have fallen asleep.” Her mouth gaped into a huge yawn.

  He sat back on his heels. “When I saw no light inside, I got worried. No fire on such a cold day is not a good sign.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “I guess looking for a tree was more tiring than I expected.” She yawned again. “But, I found one.” She pointed to the small evergreen leaning against the wall.

  “So I see.” He caressed her cheek then stood. “Let me stoke the fire. The chill is beginning to creep inside.”

  While he added logs and stirred
the embers to life, Fawn got to her feet and picked up a cooking pot. “I’m sorry I don’t have dinner ready. I’ll fix something right away.”

  “Do not apologize for resting. Remember, you carry my son. I will eat whatever you prepare.”

  Recalling the conversation with Green Eyes, Fawn smiled sweetly. Let him wish for a son. What harm could come of it? She filled the pot with water then turned to him. “After we eat, could you help me find something to support the tree? I wanted to have it decorated when you came home, but I couldn’t figure out how to keep it upright. My father always nailed a cross to the bottom, but….”

  Little Elk picked up the tiny tree and inspected its bottom. Wordlessly, he walked to the stack of firewood and selected a flat-sided log. While Fawn prepared dinner, Little Elk used his hunting knife and pared a hole in the center of the wood. She wondered why until he inserted the base of her Christmas tree into the hole and set it on the floor. He stood back and gestured, his chest puffed with pride. “There, your tree stands alone.”

  “Oh, how smart you are. Would you like to help me decorate later?”

  His brow creased for a moment then he laughed. “Why not? I have decorated my face, my horse, and the lodge walls, but this will be the first time I have decorated a tree.”

  * * * *

  The adorned, yet forlorn-looking pine stood across the room. The leather star, far too heavy, hung midway down the tiny sapling. The red berries strung across the branches were pretty, but without popcorn, the tree lacked the festive look Fawn had grown used to.

  Tomorrow was Christmas, and she fought memories of past holidays spent with her family. The aroma of Mama’s roasting turkey was so vivid Fawn licked her lips and imagined the scrumptious taste. Maybe Little Elk would have luck on his hunt and find a large hen for their dinner.

  Even if she didn’t have a turkey, she did have a gift for Little Elk. The surprise she expected to see on his face warmed her as she folded his shirt into a tiny bundle and tied it with sinew. Using small pieces of greenery, she added a festive touch then put the parcel under the tree.

  Little Elk returned from his hunt with three rabbits. The look on her face must have reflected her disappointment as his shoulders sagged when he saw her. “I am sorry, but this is the best I could do. Turkeys are scarce.”

  She accepted the limp carcasses from him. “I’m the one who should apologize for the way I’ve acted. Christmas is really for children. Maybe it’s time I grew up and stopped acting like a silly little girl.”

  He inched closer and put an arm around her shoulders. “There is nothing silly or childish about wanting to hold onto memories. We will celebrate your special day for as long as you wish.”

  She widened her eyes and clapped. “Then I want to celebrate today. I cannot wait another minute.” She pointed at the sad-looking pine. “Your gift is under the tree. I made it myself, and I hope you like it.”

  Confusion clouded his eyes. “I am not familiar with this custom. Do I open it now?”

  She nodded.

  Little Elk stooped and picked up the deerskin packet. He moved to his usual sitting place, and supported by his woven backrest, unwrapped the package. Fawn set next to him, holding her breath.

  He unfolded his new shirt and held it up. His eyes sparkled. “This is beautiful. I will be happy to wear this and tell everyone my woman made it.”

  His smile was worth all the time she’d spent. “I’m so happy you’re pleased. Now—”

  Before she finished, he held up his hand. “Wait.” He laid his new shirt on his sleeping mat and ducked outside.

  Perplexed by his hasty disappearance, she twiddled her thumbs. He reappeared in a few minutes, carrying a cradleboard like others she’d seen on the backs of Sioux mothers. “Here is my gift to you,” he said, his breathing rapid. “Usually the women in the tribe give these to new mothers, but I had Singing Sparrow help me make the only thing I could think you might need someday soon.”

  Fawn’s eyes glazed with tears at such a thoughtful gift. She fingered the intricate woodcarvings and the expertly tied rawhide knots. Her chest warmed with love for the handsome brave standing in front of her. She gazed up at him. “Merry Christmas, Little Elk,” she said before the lump in her throat choked off her voice completely.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As Green Eyes predicted, Fawn was truly with child. The morning sickness was gone, there had been no visits to the women’s hut, and her stomach protruded ever so slightly as her baby grew. Too hurried to heat the water, she washed her face with cold. She had chores to finish and people who expected her.

  She still tracked the months on the dirt floor of the lodge. January and February had come and gone, and the winter snow ceased with the beginning of March. Splotches of white dotted the ground here and there, but the deep drifts had melted away. The warmer weather caused fervor among the tribe, and the trek back to the prairie was already scheduled. She welcomed the sunlight peaking through the smoke opening but wasn’t sure she appreciated the idea of moving again.

  Confinement during the cold months had given her time to make more friends. Along with learning about Sioux customs, she also listened to continuing talks of war. She caressed her belly and sighed. No one wanted to bring a child into a world laced with prejudice and hatred, but her child would be viewed that way by her own race. Would the Lakota even accept her child? Her only salvation from worrying was listening to Rain Woman’s captivating tales of legend and lore, so with her chores finished, Fawn crossed the compound toward the old woman’s lodge.

  Today, the women gathered there to celebrate the first moon time of a young Lakota woman. Fawn was excited to join in the tribal celebration held in the girl’s honor. The festivities began with the saga of Buffalo Calf Woman. Rain Woman loved to share stories, and her aged eyes sparkled as the women moved closer to listen. Fawn inched to the front and sat. She didn’t want to miss a word.

  The wizened old grandmother, already seated, waited for a hush to fall. The room turned silent. “Two warriors hunted buffalo in the sacred Black Hills,” she began. “They saw something coming toward them that turned out to be a white buffalo calf. As it came closer, it transformed into a beautiful, young Indian maiden. Bad thoughts filled the mind of one of the warriors, so the young girl told him to step forward. When He did, a black cloud formed over his body. When the dark mist dissipated, the warrior was left with no flesh and blood—only bones.”

  Rain Woman signed as she spoke, and when she drew an imaginary circle in the air, Fawn assumed it symbolized a cloud. She still had so much to learn.

  “Frightened,” the old woman’s voice drew her attention back, “the other warrior dropped to his knees and began to pray. Seeing this, the young Indian women told him to rise, return to his people and tell them that in four days she would bring forth a sacred bundle and present it to them. The warrior returned to his tribe and gathered together all the people. As they sat in the circle, the warrior delivered the message as he’d been told.”

  Mesmerized by the story, Fawn pulled her knees up and hugged them. Rain Woman flashed a toothless grin at her before continuing. “Just as the Indian maiden had promised, on the fourth day a white cloud floated down from the sky, and off stepped a white buffalo calf. Before the people’s eyes, the calf again transformed into the beautiful young woman the warrior had described. In her hand she carried the bundle. She walked into the circle of people and began to sing a sacred song.” Rain Woman’s bleary gaze drifted to Fawn’s face. “Do you enjoy my story?”

  She bobbed a nod. “Oh yes, please continue.”

  The withered one took a breath. “After another four days, the young woman had taught the people the meaning of the bundle and the seven sacred ceremonies: purification, naming, healing, adoption, marriage, vision quest, and the sun dance. Departing in the same manner in which she arrived, she left behin
d the sacred bundle containing the White Buffalo Calf pipe, but she vowed one day to return for it. She told the people to look for the birth of a white buffalo calf. It would signify her return to once again restore harmony to the Earth.”

  Fawn understood most of what was said. Her Lakota vocabulary increased every day. The story was a testimony to her new people, and she knew why Green Eyes had developed such an attraction for the withered old grandmother. Although Rain Woman’s bones sounded brittle when she moved and her mouth lacked a full set of teeth, her energy matched that of a child when she shared a tale.

  While others chattered about the story, Fawn’s mind strayed. Her memories of the prairie were not good ones. The death of her family and the recollections of Black Crow’s evil face overshadowed any thoughts of return. It wasn’t until the tribe moved to the mountains that she accepted her fate and learned that the Sioux were really no different from other people—just a different culture and way of life.

  Rain Woman stuck her face in front of Fawn’s. “I said, of what do you dream?” She smelled of mint.

  Fawn’s cheeks heated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Your mind is in another place, yes?”

  Fawn nodded. “I was thinking about our move to the prairie.”

  “I see worry in your face.”

  “I am frightened. Learning to live with the people has taken time, and I feel accepted and happy. Now I carry a child that will be considered a half-breed and hated by my own people. I don’t want my life to change again. I like it the way it is right now.”

  The old woman stroked her wrinkled chin. “It is true. People of your skin have great hatred in their hearts for the Lakota... for all Indian people. There is nothing we can do to change that. Maybe your child will grow up learning that we are all children of the creator and someday make others see things through more accepting eyes.”