Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  God has given us

  The stars in the sky

  The moon glistening on snow

  Brings a tear to the eye

  I don’t treasure things

  Like so many do

  But when I think of Jesus

  Christmas comes true

  Melody’s voice strengthened over the dying notes of the song. “Quatie used to tell me by keeping our thoughts on Jesus at Christmas, God would always give a Christmas miracle. Like the time we had a Christmas rose. But it was Quatie who gave me the only Christmas miracle I ever wanted.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Do you feel up to sharing your miracle?”

  She glanced at Rebecca, who put an arm across Melody’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “You can do it, Melody. I’m so proud of you. You brought so many memories of Quatie back with your words.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  December 23, 2010 – Melody, age 11

  After rounding the corner with the shopping cart, I checked over my shoulder to see what had happened to Quatie Raincrow. It never failed. Wherever we went, people always stopped Quatie and wanted to talk to her.

  I sighed and leaned against the shelving unit to wait. When I had complained about never being able to go to the grocery store, or anywhere else, without having someone stop her, Quatie told me people in need didn’t choose the timing. When someone needed spiritual counseling, she had to provide. God had given her the gift of a seer, so it was her responsibility to her community to share her gift.

  “Atsila.” Quatie summoned me with a wave of her arm. “We’re gonna have ta finish the shopping later.”

  I pushed off the shelf and grabbed the still empty cart. We hadn’t put the first item in it yet.

  “Elder Lowrey is ill and asked to see me. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to take you home first, so you’ll have to go with.”

  Dwayne Kanuna took the cart from me and led the way out of the store. “The doc said to hurry. If you’ll come with me, I’ll bring you back after you’re done and you won’t have to move your car.”

  I trailed after Dwayne and Quatie as they entered Elder Lowrey’s house. I had been here once before with Daddy. It seemed strange to be here without him.

  Quatie faced me. “You’ll have to wait here for me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  She disappeared into the hall, following Dwayne. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. I didn’t even have a book to read while I waited.

  After looking at all the pictures on the wall, I flopped on the couch. As I waited, the temperature plummeted. It had to be colder inside than out. Crazy. I drew my arms tighter against my body and huddled inside my jacket.

  I sat bolt upright at the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. I hadn’t known anyone else was here. An old man wearing a wolf headdress rounded the corner and went down the hall.

  My heart pumped as I stared. I had seen him before. Years ago. I searched my memory.

  Oh yeah. I had almost forgotten. On Grandfather Mountain with Daddy the day I saved the fawn. He must be Elder Lowrey’s friend. Weird that he wore the same clothes as he did then.

  Before long, he came back out followed by Elder Lowrey. If Elder Lowrey was sick, shouldn’t he still be in bed? Neither man looked in my direction, but Elder Lowrey’s skin looked different. He glowed, almost like he was lit from the inside.

  As they reached the front door, Quatie Raincrow came out. But when I glanced back toward the men, they were gone.

  “What did you see, child?”

  I stood. “Elder Lowrey. Where did he go?” My insides felt weird because the men had simply disappeared.

  Quatie sighed. “I’ll explain, Atsila, but after we’re home. Now is not the time for explanation.”

  Dwayne shuffled into the room and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive you back to the store.” He sniffed. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  He died? But—

  Quatie embraced me in a one-armed hug. “Let’s get home.”

  I didn’t understand, but Quatie wouldn’t talk in front of Dwayne, so I choked back my questions.

  When Dwayne dropped us off at the store, we went straight to Quatie’s car and drove home. We’d have to come back to get the groceries for our Christmas meal, but I wanted to know what had happened more than anything.

  Quatie pulled into the drive and stopped the car. “You go in and put the kettle on. We’re going to need some tea. I’ll be in shortly.”

  The porch door banged as the water came to a boil. Quatie came in and put a teaspoon of leaves in the pot and poured the steaming water in.

  As many questions as I wanted to ask, I knew better. Quatie wouldn’t say a word until she was ready, and I had to wait.

  I carried the tea tray into the family room where I set it down, then lit the fire. Even though I had questions, I didn’t get nervous until Quatie sat next to me on the couch instead of sitting in her chair. Things must be a lot more serious than I had thought.

  She raised her cup and took a sip of the hot tea. “Elder Lowrey went to be with the Grandfathers today while I was with him.” She took another tiny sip. “This may be difficult to understand, but you saw his spirit leaving.”

  Other than the glow, he’d looked the same as he did before. My mind raced. It didn’t make sense. I could see ghosts?

  She peered over her glasses. “What else did you see?”

  “A man wearing ceremonial wolf clan skins and headdress. I’ve seen him before.”

  “When?” Quatie rapped the question out.

  “Hiking on Grandfather Mountain with Daddy. He stood behind Elder Lowrey.”

  Quatie’s glasses slid down her nose and she pushed them back into place. “Death has tracked Elder Lowrey for quite some time.” She settled against the couch back. “I had wondered ...” Her words broke off when she pressed her fingers against her lips.

  The warmth from the cup seeped into my hands. “Does seeing Elder Lowrey’s ghost make me weird?”

  She patted my leg. “No, Atsila. You have been blessed with a gift from God and the Grandfathers. Just like your gift of song.” Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed deeply. “God gives us gifts for a purpose. With your voice, you are meant to bless many. Having sight is to help you.”

  But how did seeing dead people help me? Confusion was the only thing the gift had brought me so far.

  “Do you remember what you told me about seeing your mama walking beside the creek before she died?”

  I nodded. “I saw a man wearing robes walking beside her ... but she swore no one was there.”

  Quatie took a sip of tea. “Death comes to us in many ways, but he will always come to take the spirit onward.”

  I shivered. “So the man in the wolf skins and the man walking beside Mama was ... Death?” No wonder Mama denied walking with a man. My throat tightened. If I hadn’t said anything about the man would she still be alive?

  “Drink some tea.”

  My hand shook too much. “But—”

  “When Death comes there is no stopping him. You are not to blame.”

  I wished I could believe that.

  “Today, you saw spirits to help prepare for the future. I can’t say more’n that.”

  The tea, drinkable now, calmed some of my inner turmoil. At least Quatie didn’t think Mama’s death was my fault or that something was wrong with me. But I still had more questions jumbled like a big ball of yarn in my mind. But one question flashed in bright neon letters, separate from all the others.

  She smiled. “You won’t know about your father until you ask.”

  Quatie always knew. The day had uncovered so many memories.

  “My daddy is dead, isn’t he? He’ll never come back.” Tears filled my eyes. Deep down I knew ... but I had never said it before.

  “I’m sorry, Melody.”

  A tear escaped and ran down my cheek. The fire cracked and a piece of wood pinged off the glass scr
een. It had been almost three years since Daddy had walked out the door, leaving me behind, so why did it feel like my heart had been ripped in two again? “How could he leave me?”

  Quatie put her arm across my shoulders. “I don’t think your daddy meant to leave you ... not for long.”

  I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Why did he go?”

  “When two people are connected at the soul like your father loved your mother and one passes away, the departed soul can call to the one left behind.”

  My breath came in short bursts. “But why would Mama take Daddy away from me? Why didn’t she call me, too?”

  “Shhh.” Quatie hugged me to her and rocked. “Your mama knew you had a bigger purpose here on Earth. She didn’t want to take your daddy from you. She only wanted him to accompany her to the land of the dead’s door.”

  I sat up and wiped the tears from my eyes. “How do you know? Is she here?” I jumped up from the couch and searched the room. “Mama? Mama, where are you? Please don’t hide from me.”

  Everything looked exactly the same. Nothing out of place ... not even a shimmer to show where a departed soul might be hiding. “Why can’t I see her?”

  “She’s not here, Atsila.”

  The hope filling my heart died.

  “Come back and sit down.”

  After staring at the fire for a long moment, I shuffled back to the couch and plopped down. “I wanted to see her, so much.”

  “She comes to me in dreams to check on you.”

  I had to swallow the rest of my tea before I could talk again. “Why doesn’t she visit me in my dreams?”

  Quatie’s eyes watered. “She doesn’t want you to live in the past. She wants for you to look forward and fulfill your destiny.”

  Swirling the dregs in my cup, I stared at the bottom, mesmerized. “I still don’t understand why she called Daddy.”

  “Your mama was afraid of following Kanati’s trail alone. When they reached the mouth to the underworld, your daddy meant to turn back, but the Grandfathers took him with her through the veil.”

  I understood. A little. Poor Mama. She’d died in the way she had feared her entire life, so she was probably afraid what else might happen.

  “I miss them so much it hurts.”

  Quatie gathered me in a hug. “I know, Atsila. Let me share some wisdom from Chief Dan George. ‘May the stars carry your sadness away, may the flowers fill your heart with beauty, may hope forever wipe away your tears, and, above all, may silence make you strong.’”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  December 24, 2010 – Melody, age 11

  The storm clouds gathered as I hurried home from the woods. A white plume escaped my lips with every breath. If it got any colder, I swore my breath would freeze into ice chunks. Nosesicles had formed and I couldn’t feel my feet as my boots crunched across the ground.

  A trickle of sweat rolled down my back. It never failed—my nose was so cold it felt like it might snap off if I touched it, but with my heavy coat on, gathering the branches made me hot. As I left the shelter of the trees and brush, the wind cut sharply across the yard.

  I gave the mud chucker at the bottom of the porch a workout so my boots wouldn’t leave tracks. When I went inside, my nose thawed and started running. I set the branches on the hearth, peeled off my coat, and grinned.

  I loved decorating Quatie’s mantle with boughs for Christmas. And this year I found holly berries to help make things more festive. After yesterday’s emotional storm, I hadn’t thought I’d get the Christmas spirit, but I wanted to celebrate more than ever. I stood in the middle of the room and gazed at my creation. My best effort yet. Quatie Raincrow would love the red touch of the holly berries.

  Now for the final decoration. I pulled the crystal bowl out of the cupboard and set it in the center of the mantle, then filled it with pine cones. Last year I had wanted to paint the pine cones silver and gold. But Quatie said their natural beauty was good enough for her.

  She had left early that morning, saying she didn’t know how long she’d be. Humming carols, I fussed with a few of the branches. The wind moaned as it crossed over the chimney. Only one log left in the andiron. We’d definitely need more.

  I grabbed my coat and put my gloves back on. We wouldn’t want to bring in wood on Christmas Day.

  Quatie came home as I brought the last load of logs up on the porch.

  “Thank you, Melody.” She climbed the steps. “We’ll need those logs ’cause we’re gonna have a very white Christmas.”

  She always knew. Better than the weather forecasters. “But the weather report says it’s supposed to be clear tomorrow with a chance of snow on Sunday.”

  Quatie snorted. “They’d be able to predict the weather better if they’d stick their head out the winda once in a while.” She leaned against the porch rail and peered at the sky. “Look at those clouds. They’re full of snow and they’re not gonna hold off just because it’s Christmas.”

  The wind whipped through and I shivered.

  “Let’s get inside. It’s been a long, cold day.” She put her arm across my shoulders and opened the screen door.

  I put the final logs in the andiron while Quatie changed her coat for her Christmas apron. The apron was the one festive article of clothing she wore. It always made me smile to see her put it on. It was the first gift I had given to Quatie Raincrow.

  I had wanted to buy her something special but hadn’t had money. She’d found me pouting in my room and told me she’d much rather have something I make for her because then she was sure it came from my heart. I still hadn’t known what to make. The weekend came and Quatie Raincrow had taken me into town to the recreation center where they had a craft room.

  When I saw the stack of aprons waiting to be decorated, I’d known exactly what I wanted to give her for Christmas. She loved to cook. It had taken me all day to get it exactly how I wanted it. After I carefully folded it, I slipped it in a bag with some tissue paper to wrap it in later. I remembered how nervous I’d been waiting for her to open it. What if she didn’t like it?

  But when she’d opened it, she’d told me it was perfect and she’d wear it every year on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and had.

  Quatie hummed in the kitchen to the scrape and clunk of pots and pans on the stove. “Why don’t you get a fire started?”

  I grinned. The logs were on top of the special pine cone fire starters we’d made to help give us that Christmassy smell. I grabbed the fireplace matches, pulled the screen away from the opening, and shook out a couple of rolled newspaper spills from the holder. After the first spill caught fire, I held it to the tinder under the logs.

  The cones flared an orangish-red at the tips. I rested the edge of the spill on the grate, lit the next, and started the fire on the other end. I rocked back on my heels and waited until the log caught. The heat made my face toasty as I put the screen back into place.

  “You did a right nice job on the mantle this year, Atsila. Those berries are the perfect touch.”

  The warmth of pride spread through me. Quatie never went overboard in her praise, but she always made me feel good about myself.

  “Do you know what you’re wearing for your solo tonight?”

  I nodded. “My red sweater, black skirt, and tights.”

  She straightened the Christmas throw across the couch back. “And what will you sing this evening?”

  Heat crept into my cheeks. “‘O Holy Night.’” Mama used to sing it to me on Christmas Eve before tucking me into bed. She said it was her favorite hymn to remind her about the true meaning of Christmas. I’d never sung it in church before, so was a little nervous about it.

  “A beautiful choice. The Grandfathers will be pleased.” Quatie closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re gonna do a fine job. Don’t worry so much, Melody.”

  The knots in my stomach relaxed a little. Quatie always knew.

  We spent the evening before the service singing carols, as we usuall
y did on Christmas Eve. After the service, we hurried home just ahead of the storm. I stomped my feet on the porch before opening the door trying to get the circulation running in them. My shoes were no match for the cold. I needed my boots.

  “Go get into your PJs and stoke up the fire while I make our hot cocoa.”

  I stoked the fire first to take the chill off the family room. Then slipped into my pajamas and huddled into my robe. I snickered as I grabbed the Santa cap I had from our school program. I pulled Quatie’s gift from the shelf in my closet. Clutching it gently to my chest, I didn’t have to wonder whether she’d like it this year ... she would.

  I hid her present behind the couch and, stifling giggles, put the Santa cap on the fawn on the hearth. Then I sat on the edge of the sofa and waited.

  Quatie shuffled in carrying the cocoa tray. She wore her full-length, maroon plaid robe and a pair of knitted slippers. She set the tray on the coffee table and straightened. When she glanced at the fireplace, one eyebrow rose. “Now that’s the first time I ever saw a fawn in a Santa cap.”

  I couldn’t hold the giggles back any longer.

  “It won’t hurt anything, I guess.” She frowned. “Did you ask the fawn whether he wanted to wear your cap?”

  “He said it would make him festive. And he’s always wanted to be a reindeer.”

  Quatie shook her head. “Child, I surely don’t know where you get your imagination from. In all my years I never once thought that putting a hat on a deer would make it a reindeer.”

  She handed me my cup of cocoa then settled in her chair with hers.

  I reached over the side of the sofa and closed my fingers over her gift. “Are you ready for your present?” I didn’t wait for her response as I jumped up from the sofa and held the package out.

  Back on the sofa, I took a sip of the cocoa and enjoyed the warmth as it slid down my throat. Quatie Raincrow never ripped the paper off. She carefully peeled the tape back until she could open the gift without tearing any of the paper. Then she’d keep the paper and reuse it somehow.