by Ginny Dye
“One more year of study.” Carrie craned her head back so she could watch the clouds swirling in the stiff breeze. She watched as one solid mass danced away into a multitude of shapes. Her eyes suddenly sharpened as they gazed farther. “Look!”
Susan’s eyes followed hers toward the thick mass of dark gray clouds gathering on the horizon. “Miles said it was coming. He was right.”
Carrie shook her head. “I didn’t think it was possible this morning.”
“I thought you were the one who told me Miles is always right when he forecasts snow.”
“I did say that, but it’s been a very long time since we had snow in early November.” Carrie sighed. “I love a snowy winter on the plantation, but Philadelphia in the snow is miserable because it just turns into soot-covered mounds that clog the streets.”
“Well,” Susan said, “you still have two months on the plantation. How about we enjoy the time we have?”
“Yes, Rose,” Carrie said, smiling. “Do you realize how much you sound like her?”
“Do you realize how lucky you are to have two people who can talk sense into you?” Susan retorted. She urged Silver Wings into a gentle canter. “I don’t know about you, but I would love some hot tea about now. Let’s get home.”
Carrie laughed when Granite sprang forward to canter beside his new girlfriend without any urging. At least he wouldn’t be lonely while Carrie was gone.
The thought was sobering.
*****
Carrie smiled when she found Chooli sitting in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace with Ajei snuggled into her shoulder. Franklin’s new cabin was still being prepared for his family so Carrie had insisted they stay in the house until it was ready. They would be settling into their new home the next day. There had been little chance for conversation with the shy young woman, but Carrie intended to change that.
“Hello, Chooli.”
Chooli looked up with a gentle smile. “Hello, Carrie. Hello, Susan.”
Annie appeared at the door with a tray full of hot tea and ham biscuits. “I saw you girls comin’. Those coats you two took weren’t enough to keep you warm. I figured you be ready for something hot since you didn’t heed Miles’ warnin’ about the snow comin’ tonight,” she said sternly.
“And you did?” Carrie protested. “It was a perfect fall morning when we left.”
“I’ve done learned Miles knows what he be talkin’ about,” Annie retorted.
“Or maybe you’re just so sweet on him you’ll believe anything he says,” Susan teased.
Annie put the tray down and planted her fists on her hips. She glared at Susan, before turning to Carrie. “Ain’t you gonna put her in her place?”
Carrie grinned. “Because you have a problem with the truth, Annie? Isn’t it about time you admitted you have fallen for Miles?”
“I don’t know what you be talkin’ about,” Annie sputtered.
Carrie looked at her silently.
Several moments passed before Annie removed her hands from her hips. “Well, I reckon maybe he ain’t so bad.”
Carrie remained quiet.
A slight smile creased Annie’s face. “You don’t think I be too old for such nonsense?”
Carrie smiled. “Sarah used to tell me you’re never too old for love. I think you should do us all a favor and put Miles out of his misery. It hurts me to see how hard he tries to get your attention. Will you please let him know you are interested?”
Annie glared at her again. “Miss Carrie, at my age, I ain’t got no time to be interested.”
Chooli giggled. It was the first time any of them had heard her laugh.
Annie whirled around and looked at her. “You got somethin’ to add to this, Chooli?”
Carrie knew that if any of the rest of them had spoken to Chooli that way, the young woman would probably have melted into a puddle.
Chooli merely smiled at Annie. “My grandmother taught me love has no age. Navajo women are very strong. When they find what they want, they go after it.”
“Like you went after Franklin?” Annie guessed.
Chooli smiled demurely. “Franklin and I love.” She lowered her head briefly before she looked up again with a glint in her eyes. “I was not just his housekeeper for long.”
The room erupted in laughter. Carrie was delighted when she saw life leap into Chooli’s eyes. She could only imagine how lonely it must have been for the Navajo woman with no other females in her life.
Annie turned back toward the kitchen. “I got me a lot of work to do.”
“But you’re going to put Miles out of his misery?” Carrie pressed. “My old friend is smitten with you. Please don’t make him suffer any longer.”
Annie paused but didn’t turn around. “I might just take something to eat out to the barn,” she replied before disappearing into the kitchen.
Carrie was satisfied. She sank down into the last of the three chairs pulled in front of the fire. “I’m so glad to find you here, Chooli. I would like very much to get to know you better. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
Chooli shook her head. “I don’t mind.”
The few minutes of talk and laughter seemed to have erased the shuttered look from her eyes. She was never anything but gracious, but Chooli had kept a very definite distance from everyone in the house. Carrie suspected the shyness was nothing more than a protective layer for a young lady who had left behind everyone she knew and everything she loved. “I know nothing about the Navajo. Will you tell me more about your people?”
The expression of love and loss that filled Chooli’s eyes almost broke Carrie’s heart. “I’m sorry I asked,” she said apologetically. “I don’t want to cause you more pain.”
Chooli brushed away the tears from her eyes and forced a brave smile. “It’s all right, Carrie. I miss my family, and I miss my people.” She snuggled Ajei closer to her. “I will tell you because I promised my mother I would never forget where I come from. I can tell all of you here are good people. What is happening to my people is wrong.”
“I want to know,” Carrie said softly.
“So do I,” Susan added.
The three women sat silently for a few minutes, the only sound the crackling of wood in the fireplace.
The cozy warmth embraced them and seemed to infuse Chooli with courage. “My people are Navajo,” she began, “but we are also called Diné. It means ‘the people.’ Our homeland lies between the four sacred mountains.”
“In New Mexico?” Carrie asked. “Hold on,” she commanded. “I want to get something.” She hurried over to the library bookshelves and reached for a large rolled document. Moments later she had it spread out on the floor in front of the fire. “Will you show me where you are from?”
Chooli stared at the map. “What is that?”
“It’s a map,” Carrie explained. “It shows what our country looks like.” She pointed to the large free-standing sphere in the corner of the room. “That is a globe. It shows the whole world.”
Chooli, still holding Ajei firmly to her shoulder, slipped down onto the floor to kneel in front of the map. She traced the drawings with her forefinger reverently.
Carrie knelt beside her and pointed. “This is Virginia. It is where you are now.” She ran her finger west on the map. “This is New Mexico. Where the reservation is.” She understood when Chooli’s black eyes became even darker. “Where is your homeland?” she asked in order to distract her.
It worked. Chooli looked at where Carrie’s finger was on the map, and then traced it farther west. “Here,” she said. “This is where the four sacred mountains are.”
Felicia had come in during their discussion. She watched as Chooli showed them where she was from. “I know about your people,” she said. “At least a little,” she added. “Your homeland is in parts of the Arizona, New Mexico and Utah Territories.”
Carrie stared at the girl, but she was not surprised. She interpreted the look on Chooli’s face. “Felic
ia knows more than all of us combined about what is going on in this country.”
“And in the world,” Felicia said smugly.
“That’s true,” Carrie answered with a laugh. “Why else do you think we keep you around?” she teased. “You keep us from being ignorant about current affairs.”
Felicia turned to Chooli. “I know so little about the Navajo, though. Why did you have to leave your homeland?”
Chooli gazed at her. “You know where my homeland is, so you have read more. What do your papers tell you about my people?”
Felicia looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know if it’s true.”
“It probably is not,” Chooli replied, “but I believe I would like to know what is written. Then I tell you the real story. Truth is good.”
Felicia nodded. “It was good when people learned the truth about how my mama and daddy died.”
“They are dead?” Chooli’s eyes were soft with sympathy.
“Moses and Rose aren’t my real parents. They took me in as part of their family when my mama and daddy died. They were killed during a riot in Memphis two years ago,” Felicia said, her voice quavering slightly. “Because they were black.”
Chooli locked eyes with the girl. “And my people are being killed because they are Navajo. I’m very sorry for you.”
“And I’m sorry for you,” Felicia said. She reached out and grabbed Chooli’s hand. “Why are they killing your people?”
“Because they want what we have.” Chooli’s eyes sparked with anger. “And because the white man believes he can take anything he wants.” The anger faded into anguished grief. “My people had much. Many sheep and horses. We had homes. We grew our food for animals and people. Then the white man came. My people did not want to give away their land, so many fought the white man. Then they came and stole away many of our women and children to be slaves in their fancy houses.”
“Slaves?” Felicia gasped. “My mama and daddy used to be slaves. So did Moses and Rose. And Annie. And all the workers you see on the plantation.”
“I am sorry,” Chooli said gently. “I know that pain. My two brothers and my sister were stolen during the march. I have not seen them since they were taken.”
Carrie watched and listened as Felicia and Chooli bonded over similar experiences.
“What march are you talking about?” Felicia asked.
Chooli shook her head. “I’ll tell soon. First, I want you to know about my homeland. There is no more beautiful place in the world. My heart will always be there. We fought off many who wanted to take it away from us. They finally won. They had many more guns and soldiers. We signed a treaty, but it did not protect us, because they wanted what we had.”
“Kit Carson,” Felicia said sadly.
“Kit Carson?” Chooli asked in a puzzled voice.
“I read about it,” Felicia revealed. “They put things in the papers here about the Indian Wars out West. The army was having a very hard time keeping your people from fighting so they decided to send the Navajo to a reservation.”
“Bosque Redondo,” Chooli hissed.
“Yes. They had the place, but they couldn’t get your people to go there. So they sent in a soldier who is well known for fighting Indians.”
“Kit Carson?” Chooli gazed at Felicia intently.
“Yes,” Felicia agreed. “While we were fighting the war here, Kit Carson was fighting a war against your people.” She shook her head. “What I read sounded terrible. It was like what General Sherman did in Georgia during our war. He sent his troops through your homeland to do as much destruction as they could. He burned your crops, destroyed your villages and homes, and killed your livestock so your people would starve.”
“It worked,” Chooli said in a flat voice. “My people were starving. I watched people die during the cold winter because there was no food. Our homes had been burnt so we were hiding in the caves in the mountains above the valleys, but the old and the young were not strong enough to survive.” Her voice faltered. “We finally had no choice. This Kit Carson told us we would be safe and have food at Bosque Redondo. We walked over three hundred miles to get there.”
Carrie gasped. “Three hundred miles? You walked three hundred miles?”
“We walked,” Chooli repeated. “Many died along the way. My brothers and sister were stolen during an attack. I remained safe only because I had gone to get water down in a gully. They did not see me. We kept walking because we believed we were going to a place we would be safe. We knew it would not be a better place, because no place is better than the homeland given to us by the Holy People, but we believed them when they said we would be safe.”
“Like the Cherokee and the other tribes,” Susan said, pain radiating in her voice.
Carrie looked at her. “Who?” She hated her ignorance, but what she had heard so far convinced her she would never be ignorant again. She understood that when people didn’t care enough to know the truth, terrible things could happen.
“The Cherokee Indians lived mostly in North Carolina and Georgia,” Susan explained. “There were already whites that wanted them gone, but then they discovered gold on their land in northern Georgia. The whites who were still supporting them turned against them because they wanted the gold. The government ultimately decided it was time for the Cherokee to be removed.”
Carrie felt sick. “What happened?”
“President Andrew Jackson happened,” Susan replied. “Cherokees saved his life during the Battle of Horseshoe Bend in 1814. Jackson repaid them by authorizing the Indian Removal Act sixteen years later. He believed the only way to deal with the Indians in our country was to get rid of them.”
“They were here first!” Carrie cried.
“Yes,” Susan agreed, “but that doesn’t seem to have had much impact on our way of thinking. The Indians didn’t open their arms to us when we wanted to take their land, so we decided the problem had to be dealt with.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
Carrie gazed at Susan. Until now, she hadn’t realized her friend was so knowledgeable.
Susan read her thoughts. “I had a Cherokee woman when I was growing up who was like a grandmother to me,” she explained. “Her name was Nina—it is Cherokee for ‘strong.’ She told me the stories before she died. The Georgia courts supported the Cherokee claim to the land, and affirmed Cherokee sovereignty. President Jackson arrogantly decided he was above the law and ordered the removal anyway.” Her eyes sparkled with anger. “They were forced out of their home by soldiers, rounded up in the summer of 1838, and loaded onto boats that traveled several rivers into Indian Territory. Many were held in prison camps while they awaited their fate.” She took a deep breath. “About four thousand died from hunger, exposure and disease. The ones who lived are on the reservation in Oklahoma.”
Carrie thought about what she was hearing. “Did Nina keep from being taken?”
“No,” Susan said bitterly. “She watched her husband and children die on the trail. Just before they reached the reservation, she managed to escape. Somehow she made her way back east to the only home she knew.” She shook her head. “She would never tell me those stories—they were too painful.
“She almost died getting back to Georgia, and when she finally made it, she discovered her home had been destroyed. So she headed north, and eventually came to work for my family in Pennsylvania.” Susan smiled slightly. “Nina had hated the flatlands of the Midwest. She said what was left of her soul would have died without the mountains. We didn’t have mountains like she had in Georgia, but it was enough for her. Even though she could never return to her home, it was enough for her to know she had fought for her freedom, rather than simply going where she was told.”
Chooli had been listening carefully. “I am not glad others suffered, but I am glad to know I do not stand alone.”
Susan smiled sadly. “You are definitely not alone, Chooli. Many tribes have been forced off their land and onto reservations. They have been driven to the Okla
homa Indian Territory from Georgia, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, Wisconsin, Illinois, and many other places.” She glanced at Carrie and answered the question in her eyes. “I don’t think any of us has the freedom to be ignorant in our country. I love America, but there are many wrong things happening. I can’t do anything about them if I don’t know about it. My relationship with Nina certainly started my desire to understand, but everything I have learned only makes me hungry to know more.”
“What is Bosque Redondo like, Chooli?” Felicia asked.
Chooli looked at Felicia sadly. “It is horrible. More than nine thousand of my people were forced there. We did not all come at once, though. There have been many walks. Many groups of my people were ripped from their homeland when they realized they could no longer survive. They were not told where they were going or why they were being taken from their homes. They did not know how long it would take to get where they were going. They just started walking.”
“That’s horrible!” Felicia cried.
“I had a friend on my march,” Chooli continued. “She was with child. Her husband was killed during the raids by your Kit Carson. She tried so hard to keep up with everyone, but she could not. She was very tired and weak as she got closer to her time. Her parents begged the soldiers to stop long enough for her to have her baby.” Her voice grew harsh. “The soldiers refused. They said that my friend would not survive anyway. Sooner or later she was going to die.” Chooli’s voice thickened as she continued. “Takoda begged her parents to keep going without her. Somehow she convinced them she would be all right…”
“What happened?” Felicia asked fearfully.
“Her family was not far down the trail when they heard the bang. The soldiers shot her,” Chooli said flatly. “They said it was better than letting the animals kill her.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. The crackling flames were now competing with the stiff wind blowing outside. No one noticed the first snowflakes of the season fall. The fire danced off the walls and mirrors as they all thought of the horror of that girl’s death.
“I’m so sorry,” Carrie murmured. She knew her words were not enough to soothe the pain in Chooli’s eyes.
