Chapter Twenty Seven
According to the Native People, the Sacred Space is the space between exhalation and inhalation. To Walk in Balance is to have Heaven and Earth in Harmony.
Cherokee Prayer Blessing
Lena stood in the middle of the first floor space of the 19th century building. Her heart was light and filled with the promise her future held. Slowly, she began to turn, arms wide, as if to embrace the building and make it her own.
Completing her turn, Lena walked into Sonny’s arms. Smiling with joy, she lifted her face to his and savored his lips as they met hers. She had never been so happy.
Lena rested her head on Sonny’s chest, enjoying the thump, thump, thump of his heart. His hand moved to caress her, his soul rising as he enjoyed the feel of her silky hair entwined within his fingers.
Lena sighed as she recalled the events of the week before.
Where did I find the courage to walk into that apartment? she asked herself with wonder. From love, she resolved. Of course – from love.
The walk up the path to the front door had seemed endless. Upon reaching the front stoop, Lena took yet another deep breath. Turning the
doorknob slowly, she opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit interior of Boy Ladd’s living room.
Sonny sat at the far end. Gazing through a shade-dappled window,
he appeared to be contemplating the scene before him. As Lena slowly approached him, she became aware that Sonny, in fact, was unaware of his surroundings.
Gray from lack of sleep, his skin shown pale under a layer of perspiration, his eyes were red, the lids swollen. She could feel the despair spilling from his soul, and the air in the room was heavy with his grief.
Walking slowly, Lena approached him, no longer in a quandary as to what to say or do. Gently, she moved to stand before him. Kneeling, she gathered him into her arms and whispered, “You are my heart.”
“Is this it then, Lena?” Sonny questioned.
Filled with joy, and the fulfillment of his love and longing for this glorious woman, Sonny would have given her the Taj Mahal if he could.
“Sonny, it is perfect! I can see exactly how it will be laid out, I can hear the music, see the people. It’s just how I envisioned it!
Lena turned to the real estate agent waiting patiently at the entrance to the building.
Gayle was a slender woman in her early 70s. Smokey, almost black eyes peered wisely at the world under a cap of dark, brown hair. Standing at about the same height as Lena, she joked in a rich, Texan
accent, “It’s good to be able to look eye to eye with someone over 12!”
“Gayle, this is it. Thank you so much for finding this lovely building.”
“You’re welcome. I knew the minute I saw it come up in the MLS that is was perfect for what you told me you needed.” Smiling, she offered her hand to Sonny and then Lena.
“What are you going to call it, then?” Gayle queried, happy with her
client’s enthusiasm and her success in finding just the right building. Lena returned her smile and answered:
“Cedar Woman.”
Sonny stood at the entrance of the restaurant, allowing himself the pleasure of savoring the space before him.
Spacious and airy, its buff-colored walls soaring to a high ceiling painted in the same amber-like color, the room was warm and inviting. Glowing with golden light, beckoning one to come in, to relax, to enjoy, the entire space promised good food, good times and good memories.
Walking to a small station where the hostess would greet arriving guests, and escort them into the dining room, Sonny placed his left elbow upon its polished surface and continued to contemplate the spacious area.
Lining the north wall, six top, fan back booths of polished cherry,
upholstered in a Native American print of gold, plum, turquoise and tangerine chevrons, sat upon a slightly raised platform. Matching tabletops of solid cherry completed the six-person banquettes.
Each seating area was lit by a small imitation rush light, set upon a shelf, which ran the length of the room, the exquisite bowls carved from catlinite, or pipestone, highly prized by Native Americans for carving peace pipes. Considered a sacred stone, it often represented the blood of the earth or the blood of The People. Illuminated by a small, flickering bulb, the reddish-amber reflective stone gave a feeling of warm candle light.
Hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room were three four- uplight ring chandeliers, repeating the catlinite bowls in a slightly larger size.
Filling the generous space beneath the fixtures, were four top and
two top cherry tables with matching ladder back chairs, each table dressed with a single daisy placed in a cream-colored, ceramic bud vase.
A selection of condiments: mustard, catsup and Tabasco sauce, awaited hungry patrons who would soon honor Cedar Woman’s table.
The flooring was of gleaming cork in two shades. The main expanse was the color of honey. Marking the four corners of the main dining area was the Lakota Sioux holy symbol for the earth and four
winds that blow, a simple square with a line radiating from each corner,
symbolizing the blowing winds. Represented in rich sienna, the symbols helped to define the main seating area of the floor space.
Lena chose cork flooring for several reasons: it was environmentally friendly. The cork oak tree did not die when its bark was harvested every nine years. Indeed, some oaks lived well past 200
years, still producing useable bark. The springy surface was much kinder
on legs and backs, and Lena felt she owed this to her employees. In addition, the flooring was noise resistant, antiallergenic and very durable. Of course, there was the beauty of it.
Cha, it is beautiful, Sonny exclaimed to himself, A truly breath- taking display, he mused, his eyes roaming the main floor with its polished cherry, glowing catlinite lighting, and gleaming cork flooring.
Leaving the station, and turning to his right, Sonny gave his attention to the opposite wall of the first floor space.
On the south wall was an arena big enough for a small band or a single Native American Dancer. Beside the dancing area was a large can
cega. Traditionally called “The Drum,” it would provide music for the
dancers: the heartbeat of The People, The Drum would be attended by several men who would strike a beat, and sing traditional songs in unison.
Dressed in regalia representing their tribe, and stepping to the beat of The Drum in celebration of the ways of The People, the dancer’s performance, mingled with the beat of the drum, was a breath-taking spectacle, Sonny reflected.
Here, on Friday nights, Native American and local bands would play. Friendly competition involving patrons voting for their favorite group would add spice to the evening.
Saturday evenings would see Native American dancers performing. Boy Ladd would narrate as Jingle, Grass, Fancy Shawl, Traditional, Hoop, and other dancers performed their art.
Moving to the back wall of the first floor dining area, and regarding
what appeared to be a Lakota tepee of buckskin, Sonny admired Lena’s whimsical solution to a first floor workstation. Hidden within this authentic display was a small kitchen with two grills, two griddles, a deep fryer and one refrigerator. Indian Tacos, various soups and buffalo burgers, to name a few. would be prepared in this creative area.
Returning to the front of the building, and skirting the arena to the staircase at the western end of the southern wall, Sonny ascended the
stairs slowly, as if to savor what he knew awaited him on the second level, the fine dining area of Cedar Woman.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, Sonny allowed himself the pleasure of feasting his eyes upon the second story dining room.
Laughing to himself, he remembered Lena calling it “sumptuously simple,” enjoying the oxymoron once again.
She’s absolutely right, he said to himself, sighing deeply and
enjoy
ing the view before him. She nailed it. It is simple, yet everything is here to assure a guest’s comfort.
Inviting and warm, the room was serene and uncomplicated with its subdued, shimmering lighting and elegant settings.
The same four top and two top cherry wood tables and chairs were featured here – echoing catlinite light fixtures and luminous cork flooring
filled the space with glowing amber light.
Linen tablecloths in a deep shade of sienna covered each table. Instead of daisies, bundles of fresh herbs nestled within small hand- thrown pots in a delicate shade of ocher. For tonight, however, a small bouquet of wildflowers would accompany the fragrant sprays.
Paintings by such talented Native American artists as Steven Yazzie, of the Navajo, whose art “explores the beauty and chaos of the natural world colliding with man’s ideals”105 and excellent examples of Ledger Art,106 lined the walls of the simple and graceful dining area.
It was a room to fill all of the senses. Soft music by Native American musicians such as Sonorous, a Jazz band led by Matt Yazzie, (brother to artists Steven Yazzie, and Michael Little), and Brent Blount107, an elementary school teacher, whose performances on the Tenor Sax, Clarinet, Blues and Jazz Guitar, and Native American Flute, played in the background. Beautiful art lined the walls, silky linens covered each table, echoed in napkins and upholstery. The aromatic scents of freshly prepared foods would soon drift through the entire restaurant, and guests would feast on delicious meals inspired by Native American cuisine.
Here diners would enjoy bison filets in fragrant onion gravy, braised buffalo shanks in honey poblano sauce, and elk meatloaf served with roasted root vegetables, as well as quail stuffed with fragrant herbs,
partnered with goat cheese risotto. Oysters and mussels in a delectable
broth, salmon served with wild rice and steamed vegetables, walleye partnered with sautéed mushrooms in a delicate wine sauce, trout
105 Steven Yazzie http://www.stevenyazzie.com
106 Plains Indian art, drawn on paper – circa 1860 - 1900
107 http://www.brentblount.com/
simmered in a delicious fish broth with fresh greens and scallions, sweet potato hash, and salads of mixed greens, cranberries and toasted walnuts were included on the menu as well. Sage bread, berry pudding, Lena’s own Aztec Chocolate Cheesecake, and of course, the Three Sisters: corn, beans and squash, comprised the menu as well.
Although the heretofore-dry city of Westerville passed a law allowing the sale of alcohol in restaurants in 2006, Lena decided to not include alcohol on the menu, as she was too aware of the effects of
alcohol on her people. However, patrons could bring one bottle of wine
for every two guests, and no cork fee would be charged.
The fully equipped kitchen was large and immaculate, with its wood-fired oven and gas stoves, as well as a separate griddle and grill, complete with utensils and cookware, for the preparation of allergen-free foods.
Sonny turned to ascend to the third floor, but hesitated. No sounds had emanated from the room, but although he considered himself a courageous man, he was hesitant to climb the stairs and enter the room...alone.
Looking around nervously, his admiration for what Lena had done to the space drew his mind away from the tragedy of that fateful night in the mid 1800s.
It seemed proper that the level where two children died so many decades before, should be turned over to the education of the young.
The third floor, once the scene of a terrible fire, was allocated for the use of teachers and individuals who wished to instruct students in
such areas as Native American and American Literature, pottery throwing, Music Appreciation, music lessons, and voice and dance
lessons. The only specification was that the lessons be given gratis; no student would pay or be turned away.
Stacked against the spacious room’s south wall were folding chairs
and tables, easels, and shelves which would soon be filled with the various items the instructors would use in their classes.
Pottery wheels lined the north wall, while the east wall boasted a wall-mounted barre and mirrors for those who would be taking dance lessons.
She is such a giving soul to allow this space to be used for free. But
that’s Lena Young Bear. Her soul is as big as the universe, Sonny pondered, as he admired the roomy, airy space.
All seemed to be ready for the night ahead. Nodding with satisfaction, Sonny descended the stairs to the main floor. There was still a lot to do. Soon the restaurant would fill with guests celebrating this
very important night.
Chapter Twenty Eight
I think over again my small adventures,
My fears, those small ones that seemed so big, For all the vital things I had to get and reach. And yet, there is only one great thing,
The only thing:
To live to see the great day that dawns, And the light that fills the world.
Inuit
Slowly, slowly, Grandfather Sun began his decent. Gliding, floating, he dipped toward the horizon as amber, rose and turquoise filled the sky. The twitter of birds increased as sparrow and crow, dove and robin gathered in preparation for slumber. Wakan Tanka stretched His fingers across the sky, pushing back the day, heralding the twilight in preparation of a new dawn.
July 18, 2010
8:30 p.m.
Sonny waited for Lena’s arrival beside the arena, decorated in celebration of the day. Guests milled around, admiring the restaurant, helping themselves to hors d’oeuvres of roasted potato wedges with a sun dried tomato dipping sauce, and broiled oysters on the half shell with a toasted bread crumb and Manchego cheese topping. Small rounds of fry bread dressed with tomatoes, onions, garlic and olives, salmon roe served on a bed of wild rice, diced turkey, bell peppers and a salsa aioli in lettuce cups, and small blue corn pancakes topped with sour cream and strawberries were only a sampling of the evenings fare. The aroma of delicious foods wafted in from the kitchen on the second floor, and the soft light of dusk shone in the large, polished windows.
Brent Blount sat to one side of the arena, the lilt of his flute filling the air with sweet, fluid notes.
Handsome in their traditional Buckskin Dancer regalia, Sonny and
Logan stood on the opposite side. They laughed often, greeting guests as they walked by, relaxed and filled with anticipation of this happiest of days.
Julie, Mary and Peter, waited patiently as servers, dressed in ribbon
shirts or ribbon dresses, passed among the crowd, offering flutes of champagne, Lena’s one concession to alcohol in the restaurant.
Jingle and Traditional, Hoop and Grass Dancers, waited patiently as The Drum prepared for the evening’s festivities. Later, the dancers would compete, counting Lena, Sonny, and Logan in their numbers. There was to be a series of Team competitions for this special occasion, where Jingle, and Traditional dancers, for instance, would line up, and dancing in unison, would first dance in line and then form intricate patterns, as in a marching band. The team, who performed the most complex moves, while staying in unison, and in formation with their teammates while dancing their style, would win the contest.
All was in readiness. Expectation mounted as people awaited the arrival of Lena Cedar Woman.
Lena chose to dress for the occasion in her new office on the third floor. Attaching a multi-colored parrot drop, the fan-shaped ornament vibrant in colors of green, yellow, red and blue to her hair, she turned as she heard a light tapping on her door.
“Come in,” she smiled, guessing who was about to enter.
Peter walked in. The effects of his brain injury were almost completely diminished. Indeed, most observers would not be able to tell that Peter had suffered from the traumatic event of 22 years before. He hesitated, and smiled.
“Little Bird,” you are so beautiful!”
Cedar Woman Page 21