“I could start teaching you,” Halona replied. “There’s a lot to learn in the short time you’ll be here.”
“That’s okay,” Bailey answered. “I’ll learn as much as I can, and then maybe I could take more lessons at home. Do you want to do it, too, Beth?”
“Sure!” Elizabeth shrugged. “Sounds like fun.”
“When can we start?” Bailey asked.
Halona peeked down the short hallway and into the shop. “Well, it looks like we don’t have any customers yet, so how about now?”
“All right!” Bailey raced into the studio and took a seat at the table.
“Before you get too comfortable, put on a smock,” Halona said.
“Yeah!” Aiyana said. “Pottery making can get pretty messy.”
“Elizabeth, do you have a tie so you can keep your hair out of the way while you work?” Halona asked.
Elizabeth pulled an elastic band from around her wrist. “I always keep these handy.” She quickly smoothed her long, medium-blond waves into a ponytail.
“You’d hate to have to do that after you’ve started, or you’d have wet clay stuck in your hair.” Aiyana laughed and finger-brushed her own dark curls back and secured them in a scrunchy. “Believe me, I know!”
“See?” Bailey tucked her chin-length, silky-black hair behind her ears. “We’re learning things already!”
Elan appeared at the door and peered in. “What’s up?”
“We’re going to take pottery lessons from your mom.” Bailey spoke as proudly as if she’d just gotten an Olympic gold medal.
“This I’ve got to see.” Elan flipped a chair backward and straddled it, his tan arms resting on the back. His black hair hung loose today, and he flashed a grin at Elizabeth, causing her to blush. Bailey had to admit her cousin really did look good in his blue jeans and brown T-shirt. He chuckled. “Let the show begin.”
“First, we need to lay out this canvas so your clay doesn’t stick to the table.” Halona whooshed the fabric out over the table like a clean sheet over a bed. “And now you each need a chunk of clay.”
Halona retrieved a block of gray clay and removed the plastic wrapping that surrounded it. She sliced a hunk off for Bailey and one for Elizabeth, plopping them down in front of the girls with a dull thud.
“Now, roll and press the clay to change its shape from a rectangle into a ball,” Halona instructed. “This will also help soften it and make it easier to work with.”
Bailey pressed and rolled the clay. “This is so much stiffer than the modeling clay I used to play with when I was little.”
“No kidding.” Elizabeth stood to put her full weight on her glob of clay. “We’re going to get strong doing this!”
“Yes, it takes strong arms and hands to be a potter.” Halona watched the girls’ progress, giving tips as they worked to soften the clay.
“This makes me think of where the Bible talks about God being the Potter and us being the clay.” Elizabeth rolled her clay on the table. “I wonder if I’m ever as stubborn as this clay is.”
“My mom says I have a strong will.” Bailey worked her clay. “It can be bad, like if I’m stubborn and want to do things my way instead of God’s way. Or it can be good, like when I’m strong enough to say no to a group of kids who want me to do something I shouldn’t.”
Elizabeth nodded, and Bailey continued. “Like once some of my friends thought it would be funny to place an order at a fast food drive-through window and then run the other way before the workers had time to see us. I told them it wasn’t funny to play jokes like that and we could get into trouble. It’s like stealing people’s time, and you can’t give that back. Then I just walked away.”
“What’d they do?” Elizabeth turned her clay over.
“Most of them went ahead and did it anyway, but one other girl walked away with me. She seemed glad to have someone to help her stay out of trouble.”
“You did the right thing. I guess the main thing is that we’re soft and moldable so God can make us into who He wants us to be.” Elizabeth flipped her ponytail back, and then shoved the heel of her hand deeper into the clay.
Bailey stood back and looked at her clump of clay with a smile.
“What?” Elizabeth asked.
“I was just thinking. What if my pot said, ‘I don’t want to be a bowl? I want to be a vase.’ And it wouldn’t let me make it into what it was meant to be?” Bailey laughed at her own idea. “I guess sometimes I say that to God.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I’m sure we have lots of learning to do about being moldable clay for God to use and about making actual pots from clay. I want to be a useful vessel for God, not just a hunk of unmanageable clay!”
The girls kept working their clay until, finally, their rectangular pieces were smooth, round balls.
“Good,” Halona said. “Now push your fingers into the middle of the ball to make a nice indentation. This will be the start of your bowl.”
The bell on the front door dinged, announcing Earth Works’ first customer of the day. “I must tend to the customers. Elan, you stay here and help the girls.”
“No problem.” Elan stood and laced his fingers, then stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles. A smile played on his lips as he pulled a narrow strip of leather from his pants pocket and tied his hair back. “I’ll teach ‘em how it’s done.”
Aiyana rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease.”
Under Elan’s direction, Bailey and Elizabeth molded their clay balls into dishes, dipping their fingers in a small bowl of water to smooth the rough spots.
“That’s neat that your family makes their own dyes,” Bailey said. “And it’s earth friendly, too.”
“Native Americans have always been earth friendly,” Elan replied. “The rest of the nation could learn a lot from our ways.”
Beth smoothed the side of her pot. “Seems like you have a lot of cool traditions you still practice.”
“Yes, we do,” Elan said. “But we also have some that have fallen by the wayside.”
“Like what?” Bailey asked.
“Well, for instance, we used to have a rite of passage for boys when they turned thirteen.”
“Rite of passage?” Bailey gave him a look. “What’s that?”
“It’s when you’re declared an official adult of the tribe.” Elan thought for a moment. “It means you’re not a little kid anymore, and you have adult responsibilities.”
“I’ve heard of other cultures that do that, too,” Elizabeth said.
“Do you have to get a job and not go to school anymore?” Bailey asked.
“No, not like that,” Elan said. “The boys had to prove themselves.”
“Prove what?” Bailey looked at Elan like he was slightly crazy.
“Prove that you’re ready for manhood.”
“How?” Bailey asked.
“The boys used to have to climb the rock face by the Puye Cliff dwellings by hand—no ropes or tools allowed.”
“That sounds dangerous!” Beth said.
“That’s part of the reason they don’t do it anymore.” Elan’s face dropped a bit, and Bailey sensed his disappointment. “It’s a sheer cliff, straight up and down, with only a few hand-and toeholds for men to pull themselves up with. The whole tribe would come to watch and cheer on the boys. Now they just have a special ceremony for us and perform a rite of passage dance to say you’ve become a man.”
“Did anyone ever fall from the cliff?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows lowered over her hazel green eyes.
“Sometimes,” Elan said. “But then that gave them the chance to show their bravery through injury. It still proved their manhood. No one ever died.”
“Did you already have your rite of passage ceremony?” Bailey dipped her fingers in the water and back to her clay.
“Yeah, they did it a few months ago.”
“So you’re officially a man now?” Beth asked, color rising to her cheeks.
“I guess,” Elan said. “I don’t
feel any different.”
“Well, I’d say you’re a man whether you feel like it or not.” Bailey looked up from her project. “You had your rite of passage, and you already have a job.”
“Yeah.” Elizabeth nodded, her color returning to normal. “You even help take care of your mom and sister. You definitely have adult responsibilities.”
“I wish the boys at school could see it that way.” Elan’svoice was soft and low.
“What difference does it make?” Bailey said. “What they think doesn’t decide who you are.”
Elan paused and seemed to think about what Bailey said. “I still wish I’d had the chance to prove myself on that cliff. That would settle it once and for all.”
“Unless you fell and cracked your head open,” Bailey said. “Then you’d be sorry you took the chance.”
“I’d show them I could take it like a man.” Elan sat up tall and puffed out his chest. “Maybe one day I still will.”
“Now you’re talking crazy.” Aiyana was much further ahead in shaping her bowl than Bailey and Elizabeth were.
“What’s so crazy about it?” Elan asked his sister. “Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of boys have scaled the Puye Cliff dwellings. People used to live in them!”
Aiyana eyed him smartly. “Yeah, but they’re closed to the public now because it’s too dangerous.”
“They’re closed to the public because people were damaging the old cliff dwellings,” Elan corrected. “They want to preserve them for history.”
“And because it’s too dangerous,” Aiyana countered. “Mama says people were afraid they’d get taken to court if someone climbed up there and fell.”
“Sounds like there were several reasons to close the cliff dwellings to the public,” Elizabeth put in. “I’m sure you’re both right.”
Bailey breathed a sigh of relief that Elizabeth was stepping into the brother and sister squabble. She knew her friend was a great peacemaker, a quality she hoped she’d learn someday. But for now, she usually found herself inwardly cringing on the sidelines when people argued.
“Maybe you can take us to see the Puye Cliff dwellings sometime,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve never seen ancient rock houses before.”
“Sure, we can go there. But they have most of it fenced off now, so we can’t get as close as we used to.” Elan checked Elizabeth’s bowl. “This is looking pretty good. But you don’t want to make that side too thick,” he warned. “It will crack in the kiln if it’s thicker than the rest, because it won’t dry evenly.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Okay, thanks.”
“So what do we do next now that we have our bowls shaped?” Bailey asked.
Aiyana jumped in before Elan could answer. “We take them outside and set them in the sun until they’re bone dry.”
“Do we get to paint them?” Bailey asked.
“Eventually,” Aiyana replied. “After they’re dry we’ll glaze them. That’s what the paint’s called.”
“How long does it take them to dry outside?” Elizabeth asked.
“Usually a day or two.” Aiyana looked at the bright sun beaming through the window. “When it’s this warm outside, probably only a day.”
The door dinged again, and Elan stood. “I’d better go help Mother with the customers.”
“Thanks for helping us get this far.” Bailey waved as he left.
After the boy had left the room, Elizabeth asked, “What do you think about what Elan said?”
“What do you mean?” Aiyana tilted her head.
“Do you really think he’d try scaling the Puye Cliff dwellings?” Elizabeth’s eyes were clouded with concern.
“No.” Aiyana sounded sure of her answer. “He’s talked of doing that plenty of times before. He’d never do it. It’s way too dangerous.”
Bailey picked up her bowl and followed Aiyana toward the back door.
“Do you think we should say anything to your mom about it just in case?” Elizabeth scooped her dish up and went with them.
“No, I’m sure he’s just talking big.” Aiyana held the door for the girls. “We’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Elizabeth didn’t look so sure. “I hope you’re right.”
Desert Wanderings
Back at the Tses’ house that afternoon, Bailey flopped onto the bed and opened her laptop. Elizabeth sprawled out next to her. They sent the photos of the ancient pot from Elizabeth’s phone to the other Camp Club Girls. It wasn’t long before Bailey’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hi, Bailey. It’s Kate.”
“Hi, Kate. Did you get the pictures?”
“Yes! You were right. That is a gorgeous pot. I love all the colors in the sunset!”
“Me, too. Hang on a second. I’ll put you on speakerphone so Beth can hear, too.” Bailey pushed the speaker button.
“Hi, Kate! It’s Elizabeth.”
“Hi, Beth.”
“Anyway, back to the subject,” Bailey said. “The sunset’s my favorite part, too.”
“I’m going to print the pictures out so I can research them. Biscuit!”
Elizabeth giggled when she heard Biscuit panting over the line. “Hi, Biscuit!”
“He’s going nuts!” Kate laughed. “Get down, boy. Anyway, I’m hoping I’ll spot a clue somewhere in the picture that you didn’t pick up on.”
“That would be great,” Bailey said. “Let us know if you find anything.”
“Okay. Will do.”
“Okay. Bye.” Bailey flipped her phone closed.
A knock on the bedroom door made Bailey sit up. “Come in!”
“Hey!” Elan said. “‘S up?”
“Not much. We just got off the phone with one of our friends from camp,” Elizabeth said. “What about you?”
“I wondered if you wanted to go see the Puye Cliff dwellings.” Elan held a floppy, off-white canvas hat, and his eyes flashed with excitement.
“Sure!” Bailey was off the bed in a flash. “Is your mom driving us?”
“No. It’s not far. We’ll walk.”
“Really?” Bailey looked doubtful. “They’re that close?”
“Well, it’s a good hike, but I’ve done it plenty of times.” Elan sounded so sure. But still, a little worry sat at the edge of Bailey’s mind.
“Let us get some water bottles first,” Bailey said. “I don’t know much about hiking, but I know you should always take plenty of water.”
The girls grabbed water bottles from the fridge and handed one to Elan, who put on the wide-brimmed hat he’d been holding. They tucked their cell phones in their pockets and were ready to go.
“Here,” Elan said, handing them each a fanny pack. “We usually wear these when we hike so we don’t have to carry water bottles. I also put a little bag of trail mix in each one in case we get hungry.”
“Thanks.” Bailey strapped hers on and slipped her water bottle into the mesh side pouch.
Bailey’s mom was reading the newspaper in the kitchen. “Mom, we’re going to hike with Elan to the Puye Cliff dwellings,” Bailey said. “He says they’re not far.”
“Okay, be home for supper.”
“We will. We have our phones if you need us.” Bailey patted the pocket holding her phone.
“Have fun!” Mrs. Chang called.
The screen door slammed behind them as they started out. Every time she went outside, Bailey marveled that her cousin’s house was so far in the middle of nowhere. A few other homes spotted the barren landscape, but Bailey noticed there weren’t any stores like she was so used to in Peoria, Illinois.
Elan led the way through the dry terrain. “We have to walk this direction awhile, then you’ll see the cliff dwellings.” A lizard sunning itself on a rock scurried to safety under a creosote bush.
“Is this a desert?” Bailey asked.
“Not really. But it’s typical of the southwest with its dry, hard dirt and gravel and tall, dry grass. Lots of scrubby bushes and big rocks, too. We have some cacti like prickly pear,
but not the tall saguaros with arms you see in some deserts. Southern New Mexico has part of the Chihuahuan Desert in it, but Santa Fe’s in the northern part of the state.”
“We won’t run across any snakes, will we?” Elizabeth asked.
“Probably not.” Elan kept walking. “But you never can tell.”
Bailey saw Beth’s wide hazel green eyes scanning the desert for any sign of movement.
“If a rattlesnake was around, we’d know before we got too close,” Elan said. “That’s what the rattler is for—to warn people and tell them to get away.”
Bailey saw the worry in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Beth. Elan grew up out here. He’ll take good care of us.”
Elizabeth nodded but kept scanning the area.
“Are we near the cliff dwellings yet?” Bailey asked.
“A little farther,” Elan said. “Up around those big rocks, then a little bit past that.”
Bailey stopped and sipped her water. The sun was beating down without mercy. Only scraggly bushes and tall desert plants grew here with an occasional desert willow tree, which didn’t provide much shade.
“We should have put on sunscreen,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll be burnt to a crisp.”
Elan said, “Here. Why don’t you wear my hat? At least that will shade your face.” He whipped off his hat and tossed it to Elizabeth.
Beth looked at the floppy hat and laughed. “This will be a new look for me.” She shoved it on and struck a pose. “How do I look?”
Bailey laughed. “Like a cross between a fashion model and a desert rat.”
“I think you look great!” Elan said. “At least you won’t look like a lobster when we get back.”
“Not my face anyway.” Elizabeth held her arms out and inspected them as they walked. “My arms, maybe. We’ll have to try to take cover under some of the trees or tall rock formations.”
“What time is it?” Elan asked.
Bailey checked her cell phone. “Three thirty-five.”
“At least we’re not in the most damaging rays. They’re usually the worst between ten and two o’clock.”
“Good point,” Elizabeth said. “But then again I’ve heard the hottest part of the day is usually around five or six o’clock, just before the sun goes down.”
Bailey and the Santa Fe Secret Page 3