Frank Manypersons started the first of two Combing Songs while Ella began brushing Celia's hair. Then, at the conclusion of the brushing and the requisite singing, Frank began the White Clay Song, the Dleesh bighiin. Quietly, Logan whispered translations of some of the words:
"The white clay of old age. With the white clay, she nears you." By the time he had finished the first repetition, Eden was singing with him.
The music changed, and Logan whispered, "Now the child of White Shell Woman, with the white clay she nears you. In the center of the White Shell House, with the white clay she nears you. On the even white shell floor covering, with the white clay she nears you. On the smooth floor covering of soft fabrics, with the white clay she nears you."
With each repeating refrain, Eden sang the words in Navajo as Logan translated them into English. Again there was a change in the music, and Logan continued to translate the words he had long known by heart: "Her white shell shoes, with the white clay she nears you." As Frank sang this, Ella painted Celia on the soles of first her left foot, then her right. "Her white shell leggings, with the white clay she nears you." Then Ella painted Celia's left and right knees.
The ceremony continued as, with each instruction from the singers, Celia was symbolically "painted" with the white clay that represented Changing Woman's transformation into White Shell Woman. Logan quietly continued to translate as Eden sang with the group the refrain, “With the white clay she nears you." Beneath a rumple in the sheepskin on which they sat, he clasped her hand tightly, feeling closer to her than he had ever imagined, feeling she was a part of him.
When Celia had been properly painted, the blessing of the dleesh was opened to everyone and many of the watchers stood in line to receive the small white mark on their foreheads, presented in a blessing manner and painted on by the kinaalda. When the line of watchers had been blessed, Frank Manypersons came to the dleesh and rubbed his hands in it, then smeared his cheeks and hair. Finally Celia walked around the hogan, painting all the people who had not stood in line. Logan felt himself touched almost to tears as he watched Eden raise her face to receive the dleesh blessing.
It was midmorning by now, and with the final solemn ceremony completed, the watchers tumbled outside in a jubilant air of fun and teasing to mold Celia for the final time. A pile of soft blankets was stacked a couple of feet deep, each blanket borrowed from someone special to the kinaalda, then Celia lay down on the stack facedown while her grandmother completed her final formal task, careful pressing Celia's shape into the blankets: first her left foot then her right foot, her left leg then her right leg, and so on to the top of her head. When they came to this part, Celia made a funny face that caused everyone to laugh before she held her breath and let her grandmother press her face into the blankets.
Frank made a final statement, which Logan translated, "This will help her grow to have a nice shape and be pleasant to look upon," and everyone laughed and made remarks that were only slightly rude about Celia's pretty figure and how she would likely grow plumper with age and the birth of children. Some of the comments Logan translated; others, he chose not to repeat. Still others were said in English for Eden's benefit, and he noted that she laughed in delight even when her cheeks colored warmly.
After the molding, Celia returned all the borrowed blankets and other borrowed objects used in the ceremony, and then everyone went to the firepit for the final distribution of the finished 'alkaan. Even with so many to feed, the cake was large enough to provide generous portions for everyone.
"This is delicious," Eden mumbled around bits of the tender corn cake. "I've eaten cornbread all my life, but I've never imagined it sweet like a cake—and with raisins, too."
"You are enjoying it, then?"
"It's splendid! I'm enjoying all of this, Logan."
"I know you are," he answered, and felt again the sharp pain that would come with their separation. He had been right to see how difficult their parting would be, but wrong to compare it to an amputation. No, giving up Eden would be more like trying to cut out his own heart.
"Is it possible I could have a recipe for this?" she asked as they finished their 'alkaan. "I'd like something I could bake in an oven rather than in an earthen pit, and something designed to feed a crowd somewhat smaller than the Sixth Army, since I rarely have this many people over."
He smiled. "I think Rosa can probably arrange that for you."
"I'd like that."
"I'd like it, too," he answered, knowing that taking her the recipe would give him one more excuse to see Eden before they parted forever. As he watched her saying goodbye to his relatives whom she now counted as friends, he felt again how very painful that parting would be.
"It was wonderful," Eden bubbled, so alive with energy, she barely remembered how little she'd slept.
* * * * *
They were on their way back to Rainbow Rock and Logan found himself dreading each mile of the trip, since each mile took Eden closer to home and their time together closer to an end. “I want each of my daughters to have a kinaalda when the time comes," Logan said, trying again to remind both himself and Eden of the unbridgeable gulf that separated them.
"Then I envy your daughters," Eden answered—her eyes bright, her voice filled with meaning.
The knot that rose in Logan's throat would be difficult, he feared, to swallow down. "Do you mean that?" he forced out.
"Yes, I do," she answered fervently. "So many of our young teens, both boys and girls, fall into a pit of despair where they feel no one cares for them and life has no purpose or meaning. Imagine how it would feel to a girl of that age to have more than a hundred friends and relatives gather to honor her and to sing her into adulthood." She paused and touched his arm as she said, "Logan, I think a kinaalda, or something like it, would solve many of the problems of our younger generation, at least among our girls. With a ceremony like this to mark her coming of age, every young woman would know how many people love her and want the best for her."
"That's one of the blessings of being Dineh," Logan answered, though the words threatened to catch in his throat. "A child who grows up in a traditional Dineh family always knows there are many family, friends, and clan members who love and care for him. Whatever may happen in his life on and off the rez, he will always know he is loved."
Eden paused, picturing an abandoned little boy who had needed the acceptance of his extended family and friends. "That's a treasure," Eden whispered. Then, remembering her own often difficult teen years, she added, "I haven't ever known that kind of caring."
In that instant, Logan wanted more than anything to be the one who could give that love to Eden. If only...
But there was no point in wishing. No matter what he might wish for, he still had the promises he had made to his generations.
Silently he drove on until he came to Eden's home where he made as little ceremony as he could of their good-byes, promising he would bring her the recipe she wanted sometime tomorrow. Extending the time he spent with Eden at this point would only extend the heartache for them both. If only... he thought again as he drove away, but this time the thought reshaped itself into another form: If only I can bear to live without her.
* * * * *
"So that's it? You're just going to drive back to Phoenix and pretend it never happened?'' Sarah looked as aghast as Eden felt.
"I don't see that I have much choice." Eden sighed. "He told me from the beginning that there'd be no future in our relationship, that we'd only have a little time to enjoy each other's company."
"That's ridiculous." Sarah's dander was up, her normally pale complexion reddening as she spoke. "Can't the man see how right you are for each other?"
Eden's voice was resigned as she asked, "Are we, Sarah? I wonder."
"No. Don't tell me you're falling for all that talk about what he's promised his children—children, might I add, who won't even be born unless he finds a mother for them."
"I know. I said the same thin
g myself, at first. It wasn't until I went with him to Celia's kinaalda that I really began to understand. The Navajo people have a network of strong traditions that have held them together over the centuries, in spite of the other warring tribes and the Mexican government and the American government, in spite of the Kit Carsons and the wars of conquest and the plagues and—"
"Okay, okay. I don't need a history lesson, for Pete's sake. And you don't need to give up so easily."
Eden couldn't help but smile at the determination she saw in Sarah's face. Over the years, she and her very best friend had always strengthened one another in times of weak resolve, and here Sarah was, willing to fill that role in her life yet again. "You're true blue, you know that?"
"Through and through," Sarah answered, repeating the refrain they had spoken to each other often throughout the years, first as girls and later as grown women. "And I'm not going to see you throw away the best chance you've ever had at being as happy as I am."
"I appreciate the thought, girl, but—"
"But nothing! Get in there and fight, Eden!" Sarah looked ready to fight dragons, if that's what it took. "You want this man, so go get him!"
"I would, if it were that easy," Eden answered solemnly. "But it's Logan himself I'd have to fight if I decided to go into this battle."
"Don't you love him enough to fight even him, if that's what it takes?"
Eden had asked herself that question many times through the long night that had passed since Logan had left her at her door, hurrying away from her as if pursued by those very dragons. She had answered it, too, in the peace of her own heart. By now she knew that if there was some way, any way, to bring Logan around without destroying him...
"Of course I love him, more than even I knew until I had to face giving him up. But fighting this out of him would destroy a large part of what I love most. Don't you see, Sarah? He is what he is partly because of his traditions, and if I force him to give up a part of his loyalty to those traditions, it will crush a large part of the life and passion right out of him. I could have him that way, I think, but he wouldn't be the man I love now, and he'd never be completely happy. I love him too much to see him lose that happiness."
Sarah mumbled something quite unladylike.
"Sarah!"
"I can't help it, Eden. I care too much about you to watch you suffer like this. And I like Logan, too. I can't help thinking that no matter how much he'd lose by giving up his promise, he'll lose even more if he lets you out of his life."
"Oh, Sarah, I wish it were that easy."
"There's got to be a way." Sarah began pacing, her face tensed in concentration.
"Please, Sarah. Quit now, before you think of some cockamamie idea that's only going to prolong the agony and make everything worse for both of us. Please?"
Sarah paused, staring long at her friend with that picture of fixed concentration on her face, then reluctantly, she capitulated. "Okay, but if something occurs to me—"
"I'll be the first to know," Eden finished for her.
Sarah grinned. "You've got it, sis."
They hugged, Eden holding on desperately, as if she feared letting go. When they finally separated, both were blinking back tears.
"So you're all loaded up and ready to go?"
Eden nodded. "Um-hm. I'll see Logan one more time this afternoon when he comes to give me his aunt's recipe for the corn cake, and then I'll toss my purse in the car and take off for Phoenix."
"Well, one thing you've gotta say." Sarah smiled through her tears. "It's been the most interesting visit you've made back home in a while."
Eden laughed in spite of herself. "There's no kidding about that," she answered. "I'll never forget it. Never, as long as I live. No matter how much I may wish I could."
Sarah grabbed her again for one last good hug. "I just pray that you don't regret it for as long as you live."
"Me too, honey. Me too."
The sun set early this late in the autumn, and it was edging toward its rest by the time Logan's truck pulled up in front of Eden's childhood home. Already she had sent the bed she'd slept in and the dresser where she'd kept her few things off to the local thrift shop, loaded the last of her mother's keepsakes into her little car and finished the final cleanup. For the last couple of hours she'd had nothing to do but wait, and fight back tears. As she watched Logan striding up her walk, she feared she'd simply break down the moment she opened the door. She reached it just as he did, opening it while he still had his hand raised to knock. "Hi," she said.
He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it and stepped forward instead, wrapping Eden in an enveloping embrace that said everything he couldn't quite bring himself to say aloud. For several long moments he held her, just held her, as if this simple act could will away the distances and traditions that separated them and bring them the union they desired. Then slowly he let her go. "I..." He tried again. "Eden, I..."
Eden took pity on him. "I know. I'll miss you, too."
He nodded and reached into his shirt pocket. "Here. Aunt Rosa's recipe for a small corn cake you can bake in your oven."
Eden's lip trembled in spite of her effort to smile. "Thank you. Thank her for me, too, please."
"I will."
"Logan, I just want to say that..."
"Shh, love." He touched a finger to her lips. "Shh, don't say it."
"But I feel I have to. I want you to know that I underst—''
He caught her by the upper arms and kissed her hard, kissing her into silence. Finally he let her go again. "There's nothing to say," he whispered. "We both know how this part has to go. We've both known all along."
"I just didn't know how difficult it would be," she said.
"I didn't, either." For a moment he looked away and there were tears in his eyes when he looked back. "I love you, Eden. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. I love you, and it's breaking my heart to let you go."
"Oh, Logan, do we have to do this? Isn't there a way—"
This time he touched his finger to her lips to stop the words. "Please, love. Please don't say anymore. If I could think of a way of making this right, you know I would. I can't, and I'm sorry. It isn't fair. Loving you isn't fair." He drew away from her. "It isn't fair," he said again, and then he turned and sprinted for his truck.
Not caring if the whole neighborhood heard her, Eden shouted after him, "Logan! Logan Redhorse, I love you, too!"
As he drove into the deepening night, she slumped onto her porch step, quietly sobbing.
* * * * *
The yellow dawn was just catching up with Chris McAllister as he turned his pickup truck toward Many Farms, praying that he'd find a way to help his suffering friend. It had been nearly a month since Logan had driven away from the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Chris had watched him carefully since then, afraid for Logan. He'd never seen his friend so despondent.
Eden was no better. For more than a week now, Sarah had been calling her friend every day, and every day she ended up hanging up the phone and turning to Chris, begging him to find a way to help. "We've got to do something," she had said just this morning after a near-sleepless night of worry. "I've never seen Eden like this. She wasn't even this bad when her mother died."
"I don't know what I can do, but I'll try," he had promised the wife he adored. "I love them both too, you know."
"I know," Sarah had said, and had held him as if she never wanted to let go. Since he was the kind of person he was, Chris turned his eyes heavenward, acknowledging the silver lining to this cloud. Because of the misery of their friends, he and Sarah had been reminded once again of how blessed they were to have each other.
He pulled into the dooryard of the goat project and spoke to the boy who came out. "Yah-ta-hey."
"Yah-tah-hey," the boy answered, raising his chin.
"I'm looking for Logan Redhorse."
"He ain't here."
"Know where he is?"
The boy gave him a long
, assessing look. "Who's askin'?"
"I'm Chris McAllister. Logan and I are buddies."
"Yeah, I know. He's told me about you. I'm Philbert." The boy stuck out his hand, and Chris could tell that whatever Logan had said about him had worked. He'd plainly passed muster with Phil. “Logan took a walk out in them hills early this morning. He's been gone quite awhile now." Though Phil didn't say it, Chris could tell he was worried, too.
"Think I'll hike out and see if I can find him."
The boy nodded. "Shouldn't be too tough," he said. "He's wearin' them big hikin' boots with the waffle soles."
"Got it." Chris tipped his hat to the boy. In the sandy soil of the foothills near the mouth of Canyon de Chelly, Logan's boots would leave a fairly distinctive track. Chris located and then followed that track, not knowing what he'd say when he found his buddy, but praying that he'd find the words to turn all this sorrow into joy.
* * * * *
Logan sat in the warmth of the yellow morning, his back against sun-warmed sandstone, his eyes closed against the glare of the autumn light, his mind awhirl with all the questions he dared not ask aloud. He had done the right thing, hadn't he? He hardly braved contemplating the possibility that he might have been wrong. This much pain surely had to have a purpose. But if Eden was so wrong for him, why did she seem so right? And why had he been led to her, and so completely drawn to her, if only to send her away? Was he being asked to test his resolve? If that had been the cosmic purpose behind these past few weeks, he hardly wanted to know about it. It was all too big, too painful, too unfair.
He didn't notice the sounds of another climber until a stone rolled on the path just in front of him and he jerked into alertness, snapping his eyes open. "Who's—? Oh, Chris. Yah-ta-hey, buddy. Whatcha doin' way out here?"
"Following you, Kemo-sabe. Thought I'd come check up on an old buddy of mine whom I still love like a brother even though he’s behaving like an idiot. I've heard he's had some hard times lately." Chris brushed off a clean spot on the sandstone and dropped into a squatting position such as Navajo men often took.
A Rainbow in Paradise Page 14