“Diphenhydramine is the best. Trust me, I’m a pharmacy student.” He winked. “For real, it helps with allergies, nausea, hives, movement disorders.”
“Ok, hand it over. Ohhhhh." My stomach flipped, and I put my head down on the dashboard. "I need something to get me through the next visit. How far is it?”
Gabe checked out the directions and the previous nurses notes. We had a 30-minute drive at least, to the village of Old Oraibi.
As Gabe steered us around the road leading up Second Mesa, I closed my eyes. “Sorry I’m not any help with the directions, Gabe. But I think the diphenhydramine is kicking in. My stomach doesn’t feel like it’s on fire anymore.”
“No worries. I got this. Please don’t puke, okay? I can’t handle vomit, the smell or the sight. I’m in the pharmacy field for a reason.”
“Quit talking about vomit Gabe!” I groaned. “At least we have our cell phones if we get lost.”
“And don’t forget we have location services. Even though we don’t exactly have addresses out here, I can ping our destination once we get there and save it to our favorites in case we have to visit again.”
Technology would not be our ally among the mesas. Our cell phone service was spotty on the Hopi Reservation. Gabe pulled over again and rotated the hand drawn map. He found his error. The landmark that confused him was “tall tree.” There weren’t many tall trees out here on the mesas, in my opinion. At least compared to the oaks and maples of Nebraska. The sun was high in the sky when we finally made to Poli Naha’s house.
Poli’s house stood about several yards away from her neighbor. The weathered mud brick home had a tin roof. A large window and door were the only openings on the front of the building. Sprigs of green grew out of red earth in a small herb garden on the side of the house. A peaceful, calm feeling covered me. I closed my eyes and leaned against the car, listening to the wind.
“Chelsea? Hello? Uh, crap. I forgot to tell you, Diphenhydramine is also used for sleep. Are you feeling a little drowsy?”
Lifting an eyelid open, I smiled. “Um not tired.”
“Dude, your eyes are closed again. Crap, you need some caffeine.”
“My feet are tingly.” I rested my head on the window. My skin warmed, and I felt at peace. I felt something cold press into my lips and tasted sparkling soda. My eyes flew open.
“What the hell?” Had I fallen asleep standing? Gabe gave me a sheepish smile.
“Yeah, it should wear off in a few hours. Sorry about that, but at least you’re not puking, right?”
I laughed. “Yeah, there’s that.”
“Che, let’s go, partner,” Gabe called already on his way to the house. I smiled.
“Che is cool, as long as I can call you Mial,” I said, referring to the idealistic duo cinematized in ‘The Motorcycle Diaries’.
“Hey, the way I see it, we are travelers on a mission of adventure. Nothing can stop us.” He winked at me.
“And maybe later we’ll start a revolution on a tropical island,” I said, laughing.
I knocked on the door. A woman a few inches shorter than I peered outside. She had thick, jet black shoulder length hair and golden brown skin. Her high cheekbones and hair looked Native American, but her deep-set eyes were gray-blue like slate. In her denim shorts and t-shirt, she looked young enough to be in high school.
“Who are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked Gabe up and down. She stepped outside the door, crossing her arms. “Solicitation is illegal in the village.”
“My name is Chelsea Shephard, and this is Gabe Lu. We’re interns with the Hopi Wellness Center. I understand someone here requested medication organization assistance?” I said, showing her our ID badges.
She looked at our ID’s and glanced at Gabe. “You don’t look like a Gabe,” she said. “And your ID says Kim, so which is it?”
“You know gringos. They get tripped up at names that are different. Gabe’s easier to use.”
She laughed. “Yeah, no one would pronounce my name correctly when my Mom named me Julia, even here on the rez. So now I go with the gringo way.”
Gabe made Julia laugh about something else, and soon we learned Julia’s mother was of Mexican descent, while her father was Hopi. In my diphen-whatever-it’s-called haze, I found it difficult to concentrate on the conversation, so while Gabe and Julia chatted, my eyes wandered to a green and yellow corn field a hundred yards away. The rows looked sparse compared to Nebraska’s crowded lines of corn. However, from what I had read the Hopi were experienced farmers and their mastery of eking out sustenance in the dusty ground of the high desert was admirable.
Julia invited us inside the house, and waved at Poli, an elderly woman with weathered brown skin and graying black hair. She wore a brown and white checkered dress and a cream-colored sweater. “This is Polikwaptiwa Naha. I’m Julia Kuyesva, her neighbor. I take care of her chores some days.” Julia called over to Poli in Hopi, who nodded and waved at us.
Poli’s grandson was supposed to stop by at lunch to learn how to organize Poli’s meds before he went back to work, but he hadn’t arrived yet.
Gabe and I were getting hungry ourselves, so Gabe began explaining to Julia what the meds were for and when they should be given. Poli’s small frame rocked a chair in one corner of the small living room, and she motioned for me to join her. Red, yellow, and blue masked Kachina dolls and old photos decorated the walls. Poli gave me a big smile and motioned at the stool next to her. I sat on the cushioned stool and returned her smile.
“I’m Chelsea,” I said and took her hand. “Nice to meet you Mrs. Naha.”
Poli nodded and spoke rapidly in Hopi. I listened, fascinated by the language though I had no idea what she said. Her voice flowed like music, punctuated with occasional staccato. She reached for my necklace, speaking with enthusiasm. Julia interrupted Gabe mid-sentence.
“I thought you were a nurse,” she said. She stalked to my stool. “What are you saying to Poli?”
I shook my head. “I don’t speak Hopi, just listening to her talk. But I’m afraid I don’t understand a thing she’s saying.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the pull of sleep calling me again. Maybe nausea was better than the side effects.
“Oh yeah? So you’re not pretending to be the pahana? Why is Poli acting like she’s found a treasure? She’s never been so excited,” Julia said. She grabbed my hand and yanked me from the stool before I could reopen my eyes. I stumbled to the floor.
“Why do you look drugged? Are you casting a spell on her?”
“It’s the medicine I took, car sickness. I don't even know what she’s saying!” I said, stepping out of Julia’s grip, rubbing my knees as I stood up.
Poli still spoke, now to Julia, in a scolding tone. The front door creaked open. A familiar baritone spoke Hopi in greeting.
“What the hell are you doing at my grandmother’s house?”
The fluttering in my stomach was back, no longer causing pain but something else. Anticipation?
“Hey, Kale.” Oh, crap. Figured he’d be friends with Julia. “We were just being asked to leave. There’s been a misunderstanding-“
“A nurse? No one has ever attempted the guise of a nurse- this is a new one.” He walked towards me until we stood within inches of each other. I was taller than most girls, but he towered several inches above me. Black eyebrows raised and his jaw clenched. I struggled to keep my eyes open and focused, but the medicine was refusing to cooperate.
“Are you on drugs?”
Kale was getting on my nerves. He and Julia had not bothered listening to me. Here I was trying to help people, but only succeeding in pissing them off more. My job didn’t warrant this type of behavior. Screw them. Time to leave.
“As a matter of fact, I am!” I shouted. Gabe’s mouth dropped open.
“It’s just Benadryl, I swear,” Gabe said to Kale. But Kale shook his head, pointing towards the door.
Poli spoke rapidly again to Kale. He let o
ut a breath and turned to her, speaking in apologetic tones. “Say goodbye, Chelsea, and make it quick. You have my grandmother fooled, and I don’t want her agitated. Say goodbye quickly, and get out of her house.”
I walked back to Poli, who took both my hands and her eyes clouded with cataracts stared into my own. She squeezed them in reassurance, and again while I didn’t understand her words, her tone exuded encouragement.
Gabe still stood by the medication organizer, dumbstruck by the scene unfolding before him. “Um- do you want me to counsel you all on the rest of Poli’s meds before we leave?”
Kale rolled his eyes. “No, thanks,” he said, ushering us out the front door. He followed, closing the door behind us. I faced him with arms crossed. I deserved an explanation for his attitude.
“How did you find out about my family?” he asked in a low voice. His dark brown eyes looked wary, anxious even.
“Kale, could you please explain what your problem is? I’m a nurse intern, not a diabolical scheming whatever you think I am.”
His eyes hardened. “Drop the innocent facade. I’ll file a complaint with at the HWC. Hell, I’ll file a restraining order against you if you dare show up on this property again. You can kiss that internship goodbye.”
Julia joined us outside, looking smug. Both Kale and Julia’s energies were angry. Kale projected a tight, controlled anger but Julia’s energy zapped out wild and reaching.
Closing my eyes, I concentrated on creating a guard around my aura. I pictured a solid steel shield around my aura, cold and secure. Calming either of the two welcoming committee members wasn’t an option without draining myself further at this point.
“We’re leaving, Kale. When you decide to explain, you know where I’ll be,” I said, shaking my head.
Too bad I couldn’t read minds. Was that even possible? Probably. I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud until Gabe said-
“Probably he’ll know where you’ll be?”
“What, oh, no I thought it would be nice to read minds. I mean what the hell, right?” I asked him, settling into the car. This time, I drove. I needed to do something to distract me from the fluttering in my stomach. Kale and Julia shrank from sight in the rearview mirror, their bodies standing tall before Poli’s home.
“Holy drama, what a train wreck. Dude, I thought you were going throw fire daggers out of your eyeballs the way you were glaring at Kale. That was awesome!” Gabe said. I glanced at Gabe and shook my head.
“More like freakin’ ridiculous. Every time I see this guy he has been a total jerk. He thinks I’m a witch or something.”
Gabe shrugged. “Well, they all were speaking Hopi, but all of them were using the word pahana and looking at you when they said it. Could be Hopi for witch.”
I eyed Gabe. What did he say?
“Or super-bitch.” He laughed out loud.
I punched him in the shoulder. “Thanks, Gabe, super helpful.”
Chapter Ten
Dream on
GABE AND I decided to research the term further. We grabbed lunch from the hospital cafeteria and ate while writing up our visit notes in the nursing trailer. Later, Carmen gave us a tour of the hospital and clinic compound.
After the tour, Gabe and I explored the computer lab next to the apartments. Probably last updated in the 1990’s, the room consisted of two card tables, each with an ancient desktop computer and printer. The room smelled like burning wires. A young brunette sat in front of one of the screens. She smiled and gave us a small wave when we sat down opposite of her, but didn’t remove her ear buds and continued typing.
Gabe took the drivers seat and typed “pahana” into Google. With no idea how to spell the word, we made a lucky guess. The first hits showed things like “Hopi mythology” and “lost white brother” intrigued us, but didn’t have anything to do with a witch. Other hits stated “end of times” and “kachina blue star”. I rolled my eyes.
“Are you sure you heard them correctly? I don’t see what this has to do with me,” I said. “I’m not a brother; I’m a chic. I know nothing of their mythology, and I’m definitely not this banana or whatever it is they think I’m pretending to be.”
We researched a little more, but the search proved fruitless. We gave up and decided to walk around the compound. The property held the hospital, clinic, and housing and filled a couple of square miles, all enclosed by a six-foot high security fence. A full sized basketball court stood between the two groupings of apartments. North of the smaller set where Gabe and I stayed were the doctors pads- larger with slightly better-kept yards.
“Gabe my man, up for a game of hoops before dinner?” Stephen called to us from the court. He wore a white t-shirt and navy blue vinyl shorts. His shirt clung to his chest, damp with perspiration. Bright white teeth contrasted with dark skin as he smiled, dribbling a basketball. “It’s RN’s versus MD’s. MD’s are playing one short, but we’re still kickin’ A. But still I think it’s time to even up!”
Gabe had already changed for the evening, but Gabe casual was still business casual compared with everyone else. He wore khaki pants and a teal polo shirt.
“Sounds good, man. Let me go throw some shorts on,” he said and jogged to his apartment.
While the guys played, I sat on a bench courtside and pulled out my phone. I had a couple of messages from an unidentified number.
Chels- it’s me, call if you need anything okay? out of town for a couple of days.
Hey, we’ll talk when I get back into town. I need to tell you some things.
I shook my head. Fia had probably given Dan my number. She turned out to be quite the soap opera director.
But Dan wasn’t any random person in my life causing trouble. No. He was the trouble I wanted so bad I’d punch a girl to get first in line. The trouble that would also likely break my heart. Again.
Even if Fia hadn’t given him my number, I would have eventually given it to him. What that said about me- whether I was stupid, hormonal, or a little of both- who knew. But my heart needed closure with Dan. He knew more about me than anyone, and if I couldn’t resolve our past than I would never move on.
After watching the MD’s whip the RN’s by 20 points with Gabe’s help, the nurses jokingly called Gabe a traitor. Gabe laughed and told them to include him in the next game, whichever team.
“Pharmacists can play either the RN’s or MD’s, we’re flexible,” Gabe said, making both teams laugh.
We followed the sweaty players to the hospital cafeteria, and I tried not to inhale through my nose. After a tasty turkey and potatoes dinner, Gabe and I turned in for the night.
As I slept, I heard the strum of a guitar and a beautiful tenor voice singing mournfully in my dreams. Soft notes of a haunting love song, one I’d heard off and on as a child and now an adult, during my dreams. In my dream, I slept, and I couldn’t open my eyes to see the face of the musician who sang. But in his voice, I heard love and heartbreak.
Tuesday morning, Gabe was assigned to the clinic pharmacy. After getting a list of my nursing visit assignments, I stopped by for a quick tour of the pharmacy and received a cooler that held an antibiotic for one of my patients. Driving away from the compound, I gave a wave to Martin, the security guard.
On my way to visit patient number one, my thoughts wandered to the animosity that Kale, and now Julia, both strangers, held towards me. Was I not reigning in my abilities, like I thought I could? Maybe the slower pace of life on the rez made people extra sensitive to the vibrations I used? Maybe they had the same ability as me? But that didn’t explain their rude behavior or their accusations, and it didn’t jive with the fact they thought I pretended to be some pahana character. This conflict could interfere with my internship, so I decided to call him and end this conflict to head off any further accusations.
My first solo appointment lived in town, so the house was easy to find. Ray Martinez, a man in his seventies with cellulitis of his foot, needed IV antibiotic therapy for two weeks. His house was sma
ll like Poli’s, made up of mud bricks and concrete. Ray approached the front door in a red plaid shirt and jeans, nodding at me from under his beige cowboy hat. I showed him my ID at the door, and Ray smiled, speaking Hopi, and motioned for me to come in. He pointed to two folding chairs, and he sat at one. He took off his hat, and I hung his IV antibiotic on the IV pole and inserted the tubing into his IV line. When the antibiotic started, I held up my middle and index fingers.
“Two hours,” I said.
I took a seat next to him. There was no television in the sparse little house. Although it didn’t contain much, the room was homey. Small tables against the walls draped in red and blue native wool blankets. Woven plaques of multi-colored grasses hung on the walls, painted in whites, reds, and blues.
As I took in my surroundings, Ray spoke in Hopi slowly in a voice like tires on wet gravel. I nodded politely, hopefully at the right times. Of course, I could have agreed with him that I was a super-bitch like Kale and Julia thought. Or an evil witch. In a way, the one-sided conversation proved therapeutic, as I listened to the drone of his voice my eyes got heavy.
My eyes flew open. How long had I been out? Still sitting next to Ray, my limbs felt heavy. No matter how much I told my legs to stand they stayed still. I glanced at the IV pole. Thank goodness there we still had half a bag left to run. Ray still spoke Hopi, but somehow I understood what he said. Was I dreaming, then? Giving up my attempt at mobility, I listened.
I must be dreaming. A prickle of electricity at the back of my neck told me to open my mind with all of my senses. As Ray told his story, I wished I could go back to ignorance of the language.
“This must be done the next time the moon is on fire. Your kinds’ power is always greatest then, and it is best to try during the moonfire if there is to be hope. But, if the act is not complete by this time, do not fear. There will be other opportunities when the facets of nature align with the moon. But, since this does not happen often, it is important to try. The tree is the marker here in the West. There are other markers, but that is the one you should seek.”
Moonfire Page 9