Walks the Fire

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  Hands reached out to take Hears Not, and Jesse sank down onto the prairie, unaware of the buffalo robe that was thrown across her to put out the flames that had consumed the back of her dress.

  And now Jesse lived in a new world. She heard her own cries echoing down the long dark tunnel of pain. It engulfed her and carried her along until she felt she was drowning in it. Then, just as she did drown, she mercifully fainted. But in the agony there was something else—quiet voices and tender hands, singing, and the sound of rattles, and then pain again as something foul smelling was smeared on her burned shoulders.

  Over and over she heard the voice of Medicine Hawk chanting the song of the sun:

  Wanka tan han he ya u we lo

  Wanka tan han he ya u we lo

  Mita wi cohan topa wan la

  Ka nu we he ya u we lo

  Anpe wi kin he ya u we lo

  A ye ye ye yo

  She lay in agony for days, and while she struggled to come out of the tunnel of her pain, Old One lovingly tended her. Medicine Hawk came to invoke his gods to heal the brave woman who had saved a child. The women in the village took care of Two Mothers. And Rides the Wind hunted with savage energy, killing buffalo for a new tepee. Returning late each day to the camp, he crouched by Jesse’s writhing form and watched as Old One tended the wounds. He brought fresh water to Jesse’s lips and held her head up as she drank. And he prayed to his God to heal this woman.

  When the day came at last that he knew she would live, Rides the Wind rode out at dawn to thank his God. Raising his arms to the sky, he shouted his joy and sang the words she had first read to him from the holy book. He called for the village herald to announce a feast of celebration. When he returned, Jesse was sitting upright, her hands fingering the exquisite beadwork on a pair of moccasins in her lap. She looked up and smiled weakly, explaining “from Rain.”

  Rides the Wind nodded and said, “You danced with death for Hears Not.”

  “I only remember his terrified eyes. Then we were in the fire.” Jesse flinched as she reached out to take the drink he offered her. “Where is Two Mothers… how long?”

  “The sun has set ten times since the fire. Two Mothers is well. Another tepee will be his home until you are able to tend the fire.”

  Rides the Wind abruptly ended the conversation, rising to leave. He was at the tepee’s opening when he heard a low cry. Turning he watched as Jesse felt about the singed frill on her scalp. Her eyes filled with tears as she moaned, “My hair…”

  Rides the Wind walked back across the tepee. Kneeling before her, he cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face so that their eyes met. “It will grow again. Until then, hold your head high, for all to see that Walks the Fire has given much to become one of our people.”

  “Walks the Fire?”

  “You have earned a new name among the people.”

  The words were spoken tenderly, and Jesse’s heart lurched as she watched the powerful form go to the opening of the tepee. He bent to leave and then turned back a moment. The sunlight fell across his face, lighting one bronzed cheek and one dark braid. A gentle breeze stirred the eagle feathers dangling from his hair. But Rides the Wind said nothing, and in one silent movement he was gone.

  Eleven

  … Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee.—Ruth 1:16

  Prairie Flower was the bearer of the news. When she said it, Jesse stared in disbelief. Prairie Flower repeated it, wondering if Jesse had understood.

  Jesse denied it. “He does not care for me. He brought me to the village to feed his child.”

  “He gave you Red Star.”

  Jesse denied its significance. “That was only so that I would not shame him.”

  “He brought many skins for a new tepee. He brought you elk skins for a new dress.”

  Jesse explained. “We needed those things because of the fire. All of the people needed new tepees, new clothing.”

  “He sits with you every evening outside the tepee.”

  “That is so I can read from the Book.”

  Prairie Flower grew impatient “Walks the Fire! I tell you truth. Rides the Wind wishes you to be his wife. You know nothing of Lakota ways. I will tell you!”

  Jesse started to protest, but Prairie Flower interrupted. “No! You listen! When a man wishes to show he wants a woman, he dresses in his finest clothing and comes to her outside her tepee. They sit and talk. He gives gifts to her parents. Not every custom is followed, because you are not a young Lakota woman. But I tell you, Rides the Wind cares for you.

  “After the fire, when Medicine Hawk came—when you were as one dying—you did not see him. I saw him. Rides the Wind did not eat. He did not sleep. He thought only of Walks the Fire. He hunted healing herbs. He hunted the elk for your dress. He took Two Mothers to Yellow Bird’s tepee so that his cries would not disturb your rest He trusted no one but Old One, and himself, and me to care for you.”

  Jesse hid her face by drawing up her legs and bowing her head low so that her forehead rested on her knees.

  Finally, she whispered, so quietly that Prairie Flower almost could not hear the words, “You are my friend, Prairie Flower. If I tell you what is in my heart, will you promise never to tell?”

  Prairie Flower laid a hand on Jesse’s shoulder, pulling it away quickly when her friend flinched in pain. “I will not betray my friend.”

  Taking a deep breath, Jesse lifted her head. “When Rides the Wind comes near to me, my heart sings. But I do not believe that he cares for me. I am clumsy in all of the things a Lakota woman must know. I cannot speak his language without many childish mistakes. And…” Jesse reached up to lay her hand on her short hair, “I am nothing to look at. I am not…”

  Prairie Flower grew angry. “I have told you he cares for you. Can you not see it?”

  Jesse shook her head.

  Prairie Flower spoke the unspeakable. “Then, if you cannot see that he cares for you in what he does, you must see it in what he has not done. You have been in his tepee. Dancing Waters has been gone many moons.”

  “Stop!” Jesse demanded. “Stop it! I… just don’t say any more!” She leaped up and ran out of the tepee—and into Rides the Wind, who was returning from the river where he had gone to draw water.

  Jesse knocked the water skins from both of his hands. Water spilled out and she fumbled an apology then bent stiffly to pick up the skins, wincing with the effort.

  “I will do it, Walks the Fire.” His voice was tender as he bent and took the skins from her.

  Jesse protested, “It is the wife’s job.” She blushed, realizing that she had used a wrong word—the word for wife, instead of the word for woman.

  Rides the Wind interrupted before she could correct herself. “Walks the Fire is not the wife of Rides the Wind.”

  Jesse blushed and remained quiet. A hand reached for hers and Rides the Wind said, “Come, sit.” He helped her sit down just outside the door of the tepee. The village women took note as he went inside and brought out a buffalo robe. Sitting by Jesse, he placed the robe on the ground and began to talk.

  “I will tell you how it is with the Lakota. When a man wishes to take a wife…” he described Lakota courtship. As he talked, Jesse realized that all that Prairie Flower had said seemed to be true. He had, indeed, done nearly everything involved in the courtship ritual.

  Still, she told herself, there is a perfectly good explanation for everything he has done.

  Rides the Wind continued describing the wedding feast. Jesse continued to reason with herself as he spoke. Then she realized the voice had stopped and he had repeated a question.

  “How is it among the whites? How does a man gain a wife?”

  Embarrassed, Jesse described the sparsest of courtships, the simplest wedding. Rides the Wind listened attentively. When she had finished, he said, “There is one thing the Lakota brave who wishes a wife does that I have not described.” Pulling Jesse to her feet, he continued, “One evening,
as he walks with his woman…” He reached out to pick up the buffalo robe. He was aware that the village women were watching carefully.

  “He spreads out his arms…” Rides the Wind spread his arms, opening the buffalo robe to its full length, “and wraps it about his woman…” Rides the Wind turned toward Jesse and reached around her, “… so that they are both inside the buffalo robe.” He looked down at Jesse, trying to read her expression. When he saw nothing in the gray eyes, he abruptly stepped away. “But it is hot today and your wounds have not healed. I have said enough. You see how it is with the Lakota.”

  When Jesse still said nothing, he continued, “You spoke of a celebration with a min-is-ter. It is a word I do not know. What is this min-is-ter?”

  “A man who believes in the Bible and teaches his people about God from the Bible.”

  “What if there is no minister and a man and a woman wish to be married?”

  Jesse grew more uncomfortable. “I suppose they would wait until a minister came.”

  Rides the Wind insisted. “What if a minister did not come?”

  “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  Rides the Wind went inside the tepee and brought out the Bible. “Read what God says about man and wife.”

  They sat down again and Jesse read every passage she could find while he listened.

  “I hear nothing of min-is-ter.”

  She grew defensive. “No—but—God says to obey the way of the people. Among the whites, the way of the people is with a minister.”

  Rides the Wind took the Bible from Jesse’s hands and held it as he said, earnestly, “You live among the Lakota now. Would God say you cannot be a wife without a minister?” He answered his own question. “I think God would say a man and a woman were made to be one. I think God would find a way without a minister.”

  Rides the Wind abruptly tossed the Bible and the buffalo robe inside the tepee, grabbed the water skins, and strode toward the creek.

  Yellow Bird saw and smiled to herself hopefully.

  Old One heard and clucked with regret.

  Prairie Flower saw and sighed in exasperation.

  Jesse watched him walk away with a singing heart. He cares for me… He cares for me… Prairie Flower was right… He cares!

  Several evenings later after the fire burned low, Jesse lay awake, trying to sort her muddled emotions. Two Mothers had returned to their tepee and he slept beside her, his breath sounding a rhythmic whistle. Through the hole at the top of the tepee Jesse could see the stars. A psalm came to mind. “When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers… what is man, that thou art mindful of him?”

  Indeed, Lord, she thought, what am I that you should think of me? Yet you have always been there for me. When little Jacob died, you gave me comfort through Homer. And when I felt that I had lost everything you put me in the tepee of Rides the Wind. Truly, Lord, you have cared for me, but in such unexpected ways! And now, Lord, what am I to do? There is no minister, there will never be. Is there some way?

  Jesse raised up on one elbow to look into the face of the sleeping child. He was different from the child she had yearned for, and yet his existence had, in many ways, given her back her sanity and her faith in a loving God. Surely, Lord, there is a way.

  From across the tepee she sensed the presence of Rides the Wind. His actions had proven that he cared for her. Now, as she lay in his tepee, she realized that she felt at home. Adam and Eve had no minister, Lord. If I read from your Word—if we shared vows—could you not bless us, Lord?

  Quietly she padded across the darkened interior of the tepee toward Rides the Wind. The embers of the fire cast her shadow on the skins of the hide walls. Her foot inadvertently kicked his parfleche. Rides the Wind was instantly on his feet, knife in hand, a cry of warning in his throat. It died there as he gazed into Jesse’s eyes. She smiled stupidly and shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment.

  From across the tepee Two Mothers whimpered a moment, then quieted. Flames blazed up from the fire to light the interior. Still, Rides the Wind gazed at Jesse,

  In a rush she realized that a chance for unspeakable happiness stood before her. Inspired words came to mind,

  And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone;

  I will make him an help meet fit for him… And the Lord God… made… a woman, and brought her unto the man… Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.

  As the words sounded in Jesse’s heart, uncertainty fell away. She whispered to Rides the Wind. “I think that if there is no minister, God would understand. As long as he is part of the celebration. As long as everyone knows that the man and the woman promise for life—to be joined—in his name.”

  Moving closer to him she leaned against his chest. His heartbeat quickened as they stood together. His skin was warm. He put one arm about her waist and stroked her short hair. Reaching down to pick up his own buffalo robe, Rides the Wind wrapped her in it and held her close, whispering, “We will find a way to please God, Walks the Fire.”

  Abruptly he dropped the buffalo robe and backed away. “I cannot stay here longer tonight,” he said. Grabbing his weapons, he fled outside.

  The next morning the entire village woke to see Rides the Wind leading Red Star toward his tepee. The mare’s mane and tail had been braided and about her neck was a garland of sunflowers.

  Prairie Flower ran quickly across the compound, a white bundle clutched in her arms. She jumped in front of the tepee door.

  “Rides the Wind—you wait here!” she ordered as she disappeared inside. Jesse heard the words just as she finished feeding Two Mothers.

  Prairie Flower giggled and announced, “There is a Lakota brave outside with a pony. He means to carry you away, but I have told him he cannot, for you are not ready. You must wear these things.” She hesitated and made an apology. “They were not made for you—as is our custom—but still, they are beautiful.”

  Jesse caught her breath as Prairie Flower unrolled the bundle to reveal her own elaborately decorated wedding dress and leggings. From across the tepee, Old One called, “I was preparing your dress, Walks the Fire, but my son is impatient. He woke me this morning and said there was to be a feast today… for he would take you as his wife.”

  Prairie Flower interjected, “So you see, Walks the Fire, your heart sings when he is near, and his heart answers the song. You did not believe me, but it is true.”

  The women helped Jesse get dressed and led her out the door of the tepee. Rides the Wind lifted her onto Red Star’s back and prepared to lead her through the village. Suddenly, she slid down again and hid her face against his shoulder whispering, “I cannot.”

  He misunderstood. The village had gathered in anticipation, and now he flushed with embarrassment. Jesse pulled him inside the tepee.

  “You do not wish to be my wife?” he asked brusquely.

  “I do! But to be led before the entire village… to have everyone watching…” Jesse wrapped her arms about the broad shoulders. “I have given you my heart. But I cannot tell the village how I feel. It is in here,” she put his open palm over her heart. “It is for you to know. It is not for them.” She stared up at him, her eyes pleading.

  Rides the Wind stepped outside, and she heard him say, “You saw when Walks the Fire came to the village. I brought her on my pony as a warrior brings what he takes from his enemy. I brought her to care for the son of Dancing Waters. I brought her to teach me about the God who created all things. She has done this. She has saved Hears Not. She has earned a place among the people. Today I tell you she is no longer only the woman who tends the fire in the tepee. Mitawicu. I take this woman for wife.”

  There were murmurs of approval.

  Rides the Wind continued, “I will hunt for many days. There will be a feast.”

  He came back inside and reached for Jesse. “Now the people are satisfied. We follow the custom. What can we do to
please God?”

  Jesse reached for the Bible. Turning to Genesis, she read the creation of man and woman. Turning to Ephesians she read the duties of husband and wife.

  Last, she turned to Ruth, reading the beloved passage:

  “Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.”

  When she had finished, Rides the Wind demanded that she repeat it. Three times he asked her to repeat the passage. Then, setting the Bible aside, he took her hands in his own and said, never taking his eyes from hers:

  Where Walks the Fire goes, there will I go. Where Walks the Fire lodges, there will I lodge. Her people shall be my people. Her God shall be my God.

  Looking up, he said, “God who created all things. I thank you for sending Walks the Fire. I take her as my wife. I ask you to be pleased. You make all things. You make her heart sing for me. You make my heart answer back. You give your Son to die for us. We have no min-is-ter, but you know us. We are Lakota. We are husband and wife. We are yours.”

  Thus Rides the Wind and Walks the Fire were joined in holy matrimony. And there was no minister, but God was there. And he was pleased. And the two became one.

  A few days after their wedding celebration, Jesse padded across the tepee to scoop up a whimpering Two Mothers. Returning to Rides the Wind’s bed, she covered herself with his buffalo robe. Two Mothers lay between them, eating noisily until he fell back to sleep. Jesse lay awake, listening to morning. Propped up on one elbow she gazed down at the cinnamon-colored face beside her, stroking the soft cheek. In a rush of emotion she leaned down to kiss the smooth forehead, inhaling the scent of the child.

  “What is this strange touch?”

  With a start Jesse realized that Rides the Wind had awakened. He lay watching her closely. Feeling shy she pulled the buffalo robe up under her chin, answering softly, “My people say ‘kiss.’“