The Sparrow

by Kristy McCaffrey

  Nathan felt his chest tighten. He wanted to be her first and last lover. He wanted to always gaze into those eyes, a deeper blue than the pools that they now stood beside, a complement to the late-morning sky above. The warmth of the color permeated the surroundings, spilling into every aspect of his being.

  “Neither am I,” he murmured.

  “But you’ve been with other women,” she replied, glancing away. “You do know how this is supposed to work.”

  The Indian boys swam in one of the pools off to the right. Nathan thought a plunge would be refreshing. He wondered if he could get Emma alone for the kind he had in mind.

  “If it’s any consolation, Em,” he said, leaning close to her ear and moving behind her, “I’ve never been with anyone like you. It’s never been like this with anyone else.” He let his hand slide along her waist and trail along her backside as he moved away from her.

  He made his way to the left of the pools, searching for an area that would offer coverage from their companions. He didn’t look to see if she followed, but felt her presence. He found a smaller pool at a lower elevation, surrounded by willow trees and smelling of honeysuckle. He dropped the knapsack and, assured of privacy, began to disrobe.

  A look of worry crossed Emma’s face. “I don’t know. Those boys aren’t too far away. What if they come over here?”

  Nathan came toward her, shirtless.

  A look of shock crossed her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

  “I…” Flustered, she couldn’t seem to speak.

  He came before her and brought a hand to her face, caressing her cheek. “Just let it go, Em. Whatever it is that hangs over you.” His lips lightly kissed hers. “Be here with me, right now.” He kissed her more deeply, enjoying her mouth. “We’ll figure this out, how to be close to one another.”

  Her body conveyed her hesitation. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. He’d been sharp with her this morning during their previous lovemaking attempt. Such intimacy was new to him, and he’d rebelled. But he was coming to realize this was a unique aspect of being with her. He wasn’t sure how any of this was going to play out—his relationship with her, his burgeoning feelings of permanence that pressed on him when he was with her—but he did know that he wanted to imprint on her some of the magic he felt when he was with her. Maybe that would make her want to stay with him when all of this was over.

  He sank to his knees and pulled her shirt from her trousers. He slid the pants from her hips and kissed her flat abdomen. Her arms encircled his head and she buried her hands into his hair. Leaning down, she found his mouth with hers and sank to the ground with him, tasting him with an urgency that gave him hope. She needed him as much as he needed her. He removed her shirt and camisole and enjoyed the beauty of her curves, the softness of her physical self. He touched and caressed and kissed every inch of her. Lying on the grassy ground beside her, he had full access to her and took great care to keep his own burning desire at bay. Only when she seemed quite frantic, pressing her body to his, did he cover her completely and join with her. Then, he stopped. His face inches from hers, he looked into her eyes.

  As awareness came to her, she started to giggle. “What?” she asked, but at the same time she wrapped her legs tighter around him.

  An exasperated laugh escaped him as a wave began to build. With effort he held it back. “I just don’t want to forget this moment.”

  Seriousness settled over her. “I’ll never forget anything with you, Nathan,” she whispered and kissed him.

  Soon words were impossible as he brought her to the brink, then held tight as she found her release. Only then did he allow his own. Much later, after they’d lain together in a languid sleepiness, did they finally immerse themselves into the pool of turquoise water. Emma laid her head back into his shoulder and Nathan knew he’d found Paradise, a place that existed only with her.

  * * *

  They continued their trek with the young Indian boys by mid-afternoon. Emma knew the way would be trying, but despite her knowledge of the path it was harder than she thought. After leaving the breathtaking waterfall where she and Nathan had made love, they climbed to the right of the cascading water, moving slowly in short switchbacks along the semi-vertical rock cliff. A rope ladder aided their progress, but Emma knew if she fell it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Nathan insisted she go ahead of him, she supposed so that he might catch her if she lost her grip, but it seemed unlikely that he’d be able to stop a fall should she slip. So she gave her full concentration to making it to the top of the plateau, relieved when they finally crested the cliff.

  Another mile or so and they came upon another magnificent waterfall and the same aquamarine pools of water. Again the boys stopped, but she and Nathan only had enough time to catch their breath and splash water onto their faces before the posse continued. They hiked to the right side of the creek and in no time came upon a third waterfall, but didn’t stop. The boys urged them on for another mile.

  As dusk settled over the narrow valley—the sun had ceased to be visible several hours prior—they came at last to a plateau filled with mud-covered shelters and many Indians milling about.

  Emma thought they must be at the village of the Havasupai.

  Men, women, and children approached, talking and waving to the boys, staring curiously at her and Nathan, speaking in a foreign tongue. They were a short people, much like the Hopis, with round faces, flat noses, and dark skin. Emma smiled and nodded as the people stared. Two men approached, and one of the boys spoke for a moment then turned their attention to Nathan.

  “I am Waluthma.” The taller one held a hand out to Nathan, who shook it. “But the haygu like to call me Supai Charley.” He smiled. Emma liked his affable nature immediately.

  “I’m Nathan. This is Emma. Pleased to meet you.”

  “This is our chief, Navahu.” He indicated the man standing beside him. “Thank you for saving young Lemuel.”

  “Emma saved him,” Nathan replied.

  Navahu looked at her and nodded.

  “Have you come from the river?” Supai Charley asked.

  “Yes,” Nathan replied.

  “Are you a prospector?”

  “No.”

  Charley spoke to Navahu, who nodded again. “Then you may stay,” he said. “We are the Havsuw ʼBaaj, the Blue Creek people.”

  “The Havasupai?” Emma asked.

  Supai Charley bowed his head.

  They were offered one of the mud huts. Emma quickly dug out a tin of coffee from Nathan’s knapsack and handed it to the woman who offered the accommodations. She had straight black hair cut at the shoulders with bangs across the forehead. She wore a long skirt and tunic, deerskin footwear, and carried a large conical basket on her back. When the woman looked confused by the gift, Emma opened the can and inhaled. When she indicated for the woman to do the same, the Indian smiled as she recognized the contents. She gratefully accepted the gift.

  That evening they were invited to eat—corn and squash stew—and sit by a campfire with many Havasupai crowded around. Emma imagined it must be exciting to meet strangers from lands so far from their own. Supai Charley introduced them to Navahu’s wife, Ilwi, relating that her name meant “snake”. Emma liked her, but was dismayed when she sensed the woman’s future demise at the hands of a flood. She pushed aside the vision, resentful of the knowledge, and chose not to speak of it. People ought to be allowed to live their lives without death always casting its dark shadow.

  Shame on you, Death. If I could, I’d put you in your place.

  Charley also made introductions to two men whom Emma sensed were similar in status but had a strong demarcation between their spirits. The first was Taap, a spiritual gthye’ or shaman, and the second was Baa Naa Gj’alg, which thankfully Charley gave an alternative name of Rock Jones. He was also a shaman, but dealt with weather spirits rather than with issues of healing. Emma didn’t like him and was almost embarrassed by the aversion she
felt toward him. Her rational mind whispered that he didn’t deserve such a drastic assessment, so she put the dislike aside.

  Navahu pointed at the bracelet on her wrist. “Moga?” he asked.

  Confused, Emma looked to Charley, sitting beside her. “Your trinket. Is it ka-hopi?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Hopi. Do you know Masito?”

  Everyone around the fire nodded in agreement.

  “We have recently been with him and his family,” Emma said. “Do you know about his nephew Loloma?” She wasn’t certain if she should broach the subject but did anyway.

  Charley spoke with Taap and Navahu. Emma didn’t understand but the sounds soothed her. If she could but change her hearing, however slight, she thought she might be able to understand them. It was a silly notion. Nathan sat to her left and she leaned on him a bit, glad he was with her.

  “Yes, we know of Loloma,” Charley replied. “Why do you ask?”

  Emma hesitated then plunged ahead. While she might not trust Rock Jones, she had no reason to doubt Taap, Navahu, or Supai Charley.

  “Masito, Na’i, and Pakwa asked me to try and heal him,” she said. “I wasn’t very successful.”

  Charley translated then asked, “Are you a healer?”

  “Not quite,” she replied. “Did Taap try to heal him?” She was genuinely curious about whether the Havasupai shaman experienced what she had.

  More conversing ensued in the Havasupai language, with even Ilwi participating. Finally, Charley answered. “Taap could not help. There was a struggle. The boy has left his body and could not be found.”

  Emma felt a keen disappointment.

  Talk turned to the river, and Emma and Nathan’s journey. Nathan related their story to the people around the fire through Charley. He also asked about Diamond, but they had only had fleeting contact with the man, and nothing useful could be learned. They spoke for a good long while until Emma could hardly stay awake. Goodnights were said, in languages neither party understood, and Nathan’s strong arm guided her to their shelter. She soon fell asleep upon the blankets they’d brought and Nathan’s steady physical presence beside her.

  * * *

  Emma awoke abruptly. She lay for several minutes trying to understand her dream. Then, she rose and left Nathan’s slumbering form as a light blue sky emerged from an inky darkness. Although early, Emma knew she would forget the dream if she didn’t act quickly.

  She wandered around camp until she found a Havasupai woman awake, stacking husks of corn outside a mud hut.

  “Supai Charley?” Emma asked.

  The woman smiled and pointed toward a different hut. Emma was forced to lean inside the front entrance to wake up the man. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she whispered, trying not to disturb Charley’s wife. “But I must speak to Taap right now. It’s very important.”

  Charley nodded. He pulled on his buckskin boots, then led her across the village to another stick and brush dwelling. Taap emerged, his dark hair mussed from sleep, and sat cross-legged on the ground with Charley and Emma.

  As Emma related her dream, Charley translated to Taap.

  “There was a white man from the east,” she began. “He was kind and loving and generous, and glowed as if light shone from within him and out into the world. Then there was a black man from the west. He was dark, violent, and controlling. They argued for some time, mostly about the state of the people here. About the state of their souls.” She paused then took a deep breath before launching into the next part. She began to sing, in words she didn’t understand, the meaning of which she didn’t know. But she sang the foreign phrases clearly. When she finished the song, she sang it again, doing so four times in all. Why she should do this, she didn’t know, but she understood that four times was required.

  When she completed the songs, she waited for Taap to comment. For surely, it meant something.

  Taap spoke to Charley who looked at Emma. “You have been invited.”

  “To what?” she asked.

  “To speak with the ancestors.”

  “How can I do that?”

  Taap spoke and watched her with open curiosity.

  Charley replied, “Taap can help you. Tonight.”

  From Taap’s gaze, Emma wondered if she’d done something wrong. “Am I in trouble for having a dream like this?”

  Charley grinned. “No. But women do not have this dreaming. And for certain not haygu, not a white woman.”

  * * * *

  That evening Emma sat with Taap, Charley, and Nathan around a fire. The rest of the tribe gave them privacy, after a sumptuous meal of baked squash, corn, and beans followed by delicious peaches. Emma had savored every bite. She had then been presented with a beautiful white buckskin hide. Charley explained that the others were aware of her “calling” dream, and apparently decided it indicated something special about her. Humbled, she thanked everyone and Nathan had placed the gift in their mud hut. It would be a luxury to sleep upon.

  Emma had wondered if Nathan's presence would be an issue, but luckily Taap agreed. Charley began to drum and instinctively Emma closed her eyes. Taap began to chant, and soon the vibrations caused by both men moved around and through Emma.

  She felt her awareness slide away from their location and then she was rushing down a long, dark tunnel. Downward she went, continuing for what seemed an endless amount of time. She emerged in a large cavern, Taap beside her. Silently, she acknowledged his presence.

  “Call your guides to you,” he said.

  She understood him—the language barrier removed.

  She thought of the giant sparrow but was uncertain. “I’m not sure I have a guide,” she said.

  “We all have helping spirits. I will call for you.”

  A sparrow came, larger than normal, and Emma knew it to be a female.

  Smiling, Emma greeted her. “Hello.”

  Hello, Emma.

  “Where are we?” she asked Taap.

  “This is the Lower World. There are four levels here. There is also an upper world, with four levels also, but we won’t go there this time. Here is where we can sometimes meet the ancestors, but they must come to us.”

  They began to walk. It wasn’t so much darkness that made it difficult to see as a constantly changing reality, coming into focus and then out again, undulating in waves.

  “Here you may create with your thoughts,” Taap said. “Perception is based on focus, but you must also be initiated before you may enter certain realms.”

  A rumble grabbed Emma’s attention and a current passed through her. A bad one.

  “What was that?” she whispered.

  “There is one who lives here, a keeper of a lower realm. I do not go there unless I must.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Our friends the Moga call him Masau’u. He is the ruler of their world. He is a God of Fire and Death and Rebirth.”

  “Is he your ruler?”

  Taap shrugged his shoulders. “No. But we do respect that he is here. Sometimes one must go to him to retrieve a person’s soul. Great care must be taken when a shaman does this. He must be protected. It is very dangerous.”

  “Why? What could happen?”

  “The soul may become lost, and never find its way home.”

  Emma thought of her experience with Loloma, and wondered if this is what had occurred when she’d tried to find him. It would seem she was fortunate to have returned to her body.

  They soon came upon an Indian, short in stature and looking to be in his thirties. He conversed with Taap in what Emma guessed was the Havasupai language, then he turned his gaze to her.

  “You are the Emma-kele,” he said.

  She looked questioningly at Taap. “Kele is a word the Moga use for sparrow.”

  She nodded her understanding.

  “You are strong and curious,” the other Indian continued. “This is good.”

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “You may call me Coyote. I have come to instr
uct you about the power of prayer. You must practice it to become proficient in your connection to all that is around us, above and below.”

  “I’ve prayed,” she said, though uncertain in the statement.

  “Many like you, the haygu, pray as if it is an exercise in the mind. It is not.” He pointed to her heart. “It begins here. A prayer is the ability to breathe with the Creator. It is the language of the inside out. There are no words, only feelings to guide you. You must trust, or you will go no further in your training.”

  “My training?”

  “You step in and out of our realms like a child sticking his toe in the water. Time to get wet, Emma-kele.”

  And then, he was gone.

  Taap guided her to another cavern. Her giant sparrow guardian accompanied them. Inside, she saw many people bound and stuck in the ground.

  “What is this place?” She shrank back.

  “It is a region where souls are trapped. It is not the only one.”

  “Can’t you free them?” Emma recoiled from the distressing emotions and wanted the sensation to stop.

  “Sometimes. But sometimes not. It depends why they are here. Sometimes they come on their own. Sometimes they are tricked and held in place by another.”

  “Why have you brought me here?”

  “Coyote told me to. I will leave you now.”

  “What?! No.” Emma tried to grab his arm but they weren’t physical so nothing happened. “Don’t leave me here.”

  “You have Sparrow. She will stay with you.”

  And then, he was gone as well.

  Emma’s gaze darted around and anxiety engulfed her. A woman’s cry caught her attention; she was embedded in a rock face, half in and half out.

  Try to help her, Sparrow said.

  “I don’t know how,” Emma said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  But you have.

  “When?”

  When Bethany died. A piece of her was captive. You freed it at the moment of her death so that she would be whole when she moved on.

  Emma couldn’t remember any of this. All she remembered was the fear—Bethany’s fear—that had welled up inside her. It had left Emma frantic and frightened. And then Bethany asked her, “Heal me.” Emma had agreed, not understanding what she was about to do. That must've been when it happened.