“Leave the letters on the table,” he said in a low voice.
David turned around to face him. “Don’t hurt her. If you don’t want to answer her, tell me by tomorrow so I can write her before someone else sweeps her off of her feet, please,” David insisted. He almost regretted coming over here and talking to his friend. Frank didn’t say another word, so David tossed the letter back on the table full of junk and walked towards the house.
“You know what Frank? You need to realize that there are people here that want to help you and you are pushing them away. If you keep pushing everyone away, one day we are going to leave and never come back,” he called out over his shoulder.
Then, not wanting to hear Frank’s response, he hurried up and walked out, closing the door behind him.
“Who says I want anybody’s help? Maybe I wished you would all get lost and never come back,” Frank mumbled when he was sure David was out of earshot.
After a few minutes, he turned his chair around and reached towards the table, grabbing the letters. He picked them up and began the letter that David had labeled one. As he read, he rolled his eyes. David was telling this woman how he was an injured war vet, who suffered from depression and anxiety who needed someone with a lot of patience, and a big heart.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she told him to get lost,” he chuckled as he finished the letter, folded it back up and found number two. He was shocked to see that nothing he had said scared her. In fact, she thanked him for his honesty and explained that she not only believed in herbal remedies, but she learned everything there was about them from her mother.
She said that no matter where she went in life, she was going to have to plant her secrets in the backyard, and she hoped if he chose her that this wouldn’t be a problem. She talked about losing her father and her mother pushing her away. She told him that she just wanted a new start in a new area and Arkansas sounds like a good place to start.
As he finished the second letter, he folded it and put it back in the envelope. He sat back and closed his eyes. Would he be able to allow someone into his home, into his life, and possibly into his life? He didn’t know if he had it in him.
Rebecca waited for her next letter from Frank. Normally, she would have gotten one by now, but it was only two days past the time she had counted it would have taken him to receive hers and write her back. “Relax honey. Maybe he had a busy week at work and was unable to write you,” her mother tried to comfort.
“He doesn’t work. He’s an injured war vet,” she replied back to her mother. Suddenly her mother stiffened. Maybe you don’t want to find love this way,” her mother started. She stared at her in horror. “Mom, you and I spoke about this! You were okay with everything, don’t you dare back out on me now,” she said, her voice rising with frustration.
“Baby, I’m not backing out on anything. I was just simply saying that maybe if he doesn’t write you, that’s a sign,” her mother stopped. They weren’t a family that constantly spoke about religion, yet they did believe. The Navajo believed in the Almighty, a spiritual force that is a source of life.
There wasn’t one God, a man in the sky, but they believed that it was formless and existed in the universe. The sun was viewed as a power of the Almighty, so if you see a Navajo praying towards the sun, they weren’t praying to the sun, but praying to the Almighty.
The sun was just a symbol for that. There were many gods that worked together to create and continue keeping the universe functioning. She wondered if this would cause an issue between her and the man who chose to accept her.
“Here Rebecca, a letter came for you today,” her mother said as she handed Rebecca a letter. Rebecca took the letter and stopped. The handwriting on the letter looked different. She hurried to her room and grabbed one of her other letters she had saved from him, and held it up to this one.
Sure enough, the handwriting was completely different. Curiosity got the best of her and she opened the letter up and began to read. Frank had been completely honest. He told her how sorry he was, that he had not been the one who originally wrote her. He explained how it was his best friend who was trying to help him out.
He continued to tell her that he had brought him the letters and he really liked what she’d said in them. He really wanted to get to know her. He explained that he had never tried herbal medicines, but if it could help with depression and anxiety, he was willing to try it. He also went on to saying that his housekeeping skills weren’t the best since he had come home from the war. He’d been injured, and they had to remove part of his shoulder and clavicle because he was shot and then got an infection due to poor medical care.
When she finished reading the letter that Frank thought for sure was a deal breaker, she felt closer to him than ever. She wrote him back and asked him if she could please go there and be with him. She explained that she hadn’t really felt anything special for him during the first set of letters, but once she received this last one, she felt something special, like a connection.
She assured him that if he didn’t like her, all he had to do was say the word and she’d leave immediately. It was a huge jump for her, and after she mailed it off, she was so worried that she had gone too fast, and would scare him off.
For weeks, she was worried that he would get scared, and she’d never hear from him again.
He loved the letter. It brought hope into his hopeless world. He responded that he’d love to have to come to his home. He warned her again about how he lived. He explained that he did smoke cigars, although he wanted to stop, and he only had two of every dish, so he wouldn’t ever have piles of dishes if he didn’t feel like, or was hurting too badly to do dishes. He hardly had any food at his home and didn’t have a garden. He had a few friends and neighbors who daily brought him food.
She didn’t care about any of this and promised when she arrived she’d help with the housekeeping chores, and see what she could do about getting some food into the house.
His next step was to set it up for her to come to Arkansas. After she had the train ticket, she sent him one last message telling him that she had the ticket and was on her way. Instead of sending a letter, like they normally did, she sent a telegram so that he’d receive it quicker.
She was going to leave in three days, and she would be traveling for two and a half days total. One day from Kansas to Texas, then she would wait overnight for the next train. From Texas, she would spend another full day on the train heading to Arkansas.
Suddenly, panic sank in as he looked around the house. She was going to step one foot into this house and turn around, running to head back to Kansas. “I’ll be lucky if she gets a full foot inside this house,” he said aloud to himself.
That afternoon, he walked into the bathroom and stopped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. “She’s going to hit the hills running if she sees me looking like this,” he said as he dipped his hands into the basin that he’d filled with water, so he could shave what had grown on his face.
He’d never let his facial hair get so out of control. He would normally stay smooth shaved, but once in a while he’d grow out a mustache. “This is ridiculous,” he said as he lathered the soap onto his face. It took him a few tries using the razor to get all of the hair off his face.
When he was finished, he looked up into the mirror and forced a smile. It looked fake, so he stopped. He looked a lot younger than when he had first walked into the bathroom, but he could still see the dark circles under his eyes and the age he had put on since he first left for the war.
It had been nine years since he had first left to go into the war. Normal people don’t look as old as he did after only nine years. Most people don’t have to see the things that he saw during those four years. Every friend that he had gone in with was gone. Many he watched die before his own eyes.
Some died from wounds, but more died from infections or other illnesses. None of his friends had been kidnaped and held hostage as he had, thankfully. He
was walking back to the chair when it happened again. Suddenly, he was now back in that cave, at least he thought it was a cave.
He was on his knees, with his hands behind his back. His ankles were tied, but not to his hands. Still, he couldn’t go anywhere. There were men surrounding him, shouting to him. He gave up days ago trying to figure out what they were saying. He thought to himself that they must think that he understood them and he was just faking not knowing. His fingers throbbed badly.
The day prior they had broken all of his fingers. Not just once, but every knuckle had been broken by, who he assumed, was the leader of this tribe. As he broke each knuckle, he would shout at him and wave a long knife in his face. Frank just shook his head and repeated, “I only speak English. I don’t understand. Please speak English.”
This would irritate the Navajo and he’d just grab the next finger. Now, the same leader held the same knife up to him and was screaming things at him that of course he couldn’t understand.
He learned to force himself to go somewhere else in his mind. He was on the beach, relaxing in the sun…no, the shade. He was too hot to try to imagine himself lying in the sun. This man wouldn’t allow him to go elsewhere in his mind though.
Pain flooded through his body another man came up behind Frank, lifting his head up, forcing him to look at the leader, while the leader pulled his fist back and began punching his face over and over until he blacked out.
“So, you’re sure this is what you want to do? Are you ready to travel all the way to Arkansas and live with a stranger? Have you told him yet that you’re Navajo,” Rebecca’s mother asked, as she stood watching her daughter pack her suitcase two days before she was scheduled to leave?
“Mom, we’ve talked about this. Yes, I am sure this is what I want. If it doesn’t work, we’ve both agreed to stay friends and he’ll help me come back. If it does work, he’ll send for you to come to the wedding. As for the telling him if I’m Navajo, I don’t see why that is such an important thing that I share with him.
“Haven’t you always taught me that someone needs to love you for who you truly are, and if not, they aren’t worth your time,” she quoted her mother’s very words.
How could she tell her daughter that this situation is a bit different?
“The thing is Rebecca, you said he’s an injured war vet... correct,” her mother began.
When Rebecca told her yes, she continued.
“Well, has he told you how he was hurt? I mean, by whom,” she asked Rebecca.
“He was shot. Furthermore, no he didn’t get the name of the man who shot him,” Rebecca tried joking with her mother, hoping to lighten the mood. However, it didn’t work.
Her mother’s eyebrows furrowed and she continued. “In the Civil War, where he was wounded, sometimes the Navajo were the ones who hurt the American soldiers,” she paused, to let that sink into Rebecca’s head, hoping she’d understand.
“Okay,” Rebecca started stubbornly, “I still don’t see what that has to do with me,” she continued.
Her mom just shook her head. “All I’m trying to say is that maybe you should have let him know, so if he was injured by a Navajo Indian and has a fear or hatred of them, he won’t take it out on you when you arrive.”
Rebecca now understood where her mother was coming from and sat thinking about this for a moment.
Finally, she spoke. “Well, you’d think if he did have such a big problem with the Navajo, he’d have mentioned that to make sure that I am not Navajo, right.”
Her mother could hear the uncertainty in her daughter’s voice now and immediately felt bad. She shouldn’t have ruined her excitement. “I’m sure he’s going to love you just the way you are. I’m just doing what every mother does and worry nonstop about you. You’ll be fine, you’ll see,” she said, walking over to Rebecca and holding her tight.
“I love you, baby. Remember, if anything happens and he’s unable to bring you back you let me know immediately and I will get you home.” t
They hugged, and then she helped Rebecca finish packing.
They spent their final days sitting together talking, and sharing her final recipes with her daughter. She made her up a few special medicines to give to him when she got there. On the last day before she left, her mother gave her the greatest gift of all, her very own medicine bag.
Usually, a woman who practices medicine keeps her very first bag until she passes away, and then it’s passed onto her daughter. She felt in her heart that now was the time to pass it on. She was going to need it now, more than ever.
The day finally came.
In Arkansas, Frank had gotten David to help him come and do a quick clean of his house. Even though Rebecca had told him not to worry about it and that she would clean when she got there, he didn’t want their relationship to start by her being his slave.
He wanted the house to be clean and there to be some food in the house. Frank had plenty of money. Since he was wounded in the war, his home was paid for, his medical was paid, and he had money being put into his bank every month. He didn’t worry about money. He worried about his mental health. He honestly didn’t know if he was ready to start a relationship.
David was worried that if this didn’t work, he’d lose his friend forever because of blame.
As the men cleaned the house, the woman in Kansas hugged tightly at the train station. Rebecca was both nervous and scared. Outwardly, she showed excitement and those were her true feelings, but would they stay the same when she arrived in Arkansas?
At that moment it was as if Arkansas was a foreign country to her, so far away and filled with the unknown.
After the first day traveling by train, Rebecca had never been more nervous. She arrived in Texas in the middle of the night, got her luggage off of the train, and waited with her medicine bag on her lap until early the next morning when the next train arrived.
She rode the next train all day before finally arriving at layover that kept her stuck in Mississippi for six hours, before finally bringing her to her destination. She was sure by the time that she arrived in Arkansas at eleven o’clock at night, Frank would be nowhere in sight, and she wouldn’t blame him.
To her surprise he was there, waiting for her. He was inside of his buggy stretched out relaxing. When he heard the train breaks screeching to a stop, he sat straight up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he realized that his hopefully soon to be bride had arrived, he jumped up.
He sat up and rushed out to the exit of the train station where she would be leaving. He didn’t recognize her right away, but then again she wasn’t anything that he was expecting. He watched the people getting off the train, which was only three men, a Navajo Indian woman, and then a white couple.
There must be some mistake, where was Rebecca? he thought.
“Hello? You must be Frank, correct,” he heard a female voice. How had he missed her? When he turned around, he was shocked to see the Navajo woman staring at him. Now he knew there had to be some mistake. He would never have been able to get along with a Navajo woman.
There’s no way this was the woman who had written all of those amazing letters to him. There would really be no way he could live with this woman. He tried to hide his feelings and put a smile on his face, but suddenly he was angry at David and wished she would go and live with him and let him go back to his dark smoke-filled house.
“I’m not what you expected? I’m sorry, if you’d rather, I can stay here and take the next train that is going to take me back to Kansas.” She had seen the look on his face. What look did she see that made her say that to him; fear, shock, or horror?
He was feeling all of those, but she didn’t think that her looks were that obvious. “No, don’t you be silly. Come on Rebecca, my buggy is over here this way.” He guided her to his buggy. She came with him, but she now carried with her more than luggage. She carried with her worry and pain, knowing that he didn’t like something about her. She could read it all over his face.
As they rode back to the house, she attempted to make conversation. “I have brought some of that herbal medicine that I told you about. In fact, my mother made up a very special remedy right before I left and put it in my bag. I’d love it if you’d let me make you some tea when we get to the house,” she offered.
He made a grunting noise, showing that he had listened to her and approved.
She looked out at the Arkansas land while they rode for just over an hour. “Is there something wrong,” she began.
He cut her off. “No, I’m just tired. I know you had a delay that kept you quite a few more hours than expected. That wasn’t your fault. I’ve just been sitting up there for hours, and I’m exhausted. I bet you are exhausted as well,” he assumed.
“I did sleep quite a bit on the train,” she said back to him to assure him she wasn’t exhausted. She was hoping that he’d be willing to stay up for a little bit and talk to her. She was sure if he went straight to bed and left her alone, she’d never be able to sleep. She was sure something was wrong, but just didn’t know what.
Suddenly, he heard the voices again, those horrible screaming Navajo voices. He learned to hear the difference when they were talking, joking, laughing, and most importantly angry. When they were angry, it meant that soon they would be coming into the room where they kept him at and torturing him some more.
He didn’t think he could handle any more. A few days before he had his fingers broken, and just the day before he had been beaten down so violently that he hadn’t yet stood on his own. In fact, there was no reason to even attempt to stand any more.
The Navajo Medicine Woman & the Civil War Vet Page 2
