Wind Spirit: An Ella Clah Novel (Ella Clah Novels)

by Aimée Thurlo

  “Are you afraid of me?” she asked, surprised. Even in the darkest times, Clifford had never backed away from danger.

  “No, not of you—for you. A lot of people are going to be scared of you now and that emotion never fails to bring out the worst in people.” He exhaled softly. “People from outside our tribe say the Dineh are superstitious. Yet when their own religions tell them that someone walked on water or parted the sea, they accept it without question. Everyone chooses what to believe and which path to follow. But since you now live among us, regardless of what your personal beliefs are, you have to take into account the fear of those around you. Carrying the medicine pouch will show your willingness to honor our ways.”

  Ella took the beaded velveteen medicine pouch he handed her and set it on the stand by her bed.

  “No,” he said. “Clip it to your hospital gown. You need to start sending out the right message.”

  She did as he asked and Clifford nodded in approval. “I’ll tell Mom that you have the medicine pouch with you now.”

  “Find the hataalii for me,” she asked again.

  “I will.”

  Ella watched Clifford leave. Most of the Navajos she’d met seldom said good-bye, they just turned and left. Smiling, she remembered having to adjust to that again when she’d returned to the Rez after years of living on the outside.

  Ella glanced down skeptically at the pouch she’d pinned to her hospital gown. She didn’t personally find it useful, but it was a necessary compromise. It was a different world here in Diné bikéyah—Navajo country—and danger could come from sources one never encountered on the outside.

  THREE

  The morning sun filtered through the pale green curtains in Ella’s hospital room, nudging her awake. Her body ached today, more so than yesterday, but it was time for her to leave. She’d been given a new lease on life, and she wasn’t going to waste it lying around here counting ceiling tiles.

  Tossing the sheet and thin blanket aside, Ella climbed out of the tall, narrow bed and walked over to the small closet. Her mother had taken her dirty clothes earlier and Justine had left some clean ones for her during visiting hours last night.

  Ella closed the bathroom door, then washed up and dressed quickly. When she came out several minutes later, she saw Big Ed Atcitty, the chief of police, in her room. “Whoa, Shorty,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her though she was a head taller than he was. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Morning, Chief. I’m getting out of here. I’ve wasted enough time.”

  He gave her a long, speculative look. “Well, that cinches it. You’re still the same Ella,” he muttered. He glanced down at the pouch she now wore on her belt and nodded in approval. “That’s a good idea.”

  “My brother prepared it for me,” she answered. “He felt it was appropriate and I agreed.” Ella stepped out into the hall and cocked her head toward the nurses station. “Come on. I’m checking myself out.”

  Big Ed was barrel-chested, short, and sturdy like a tree stump, with graying temples and coal black eyes grown wise with time and experience. He exhaled softly, then followed her. “I guess I should argue with you, but experience tells me it won’t do much good.”

  She smiled and kept walking. “I’m going to need a day off, Chief.”

  “Take more if you want. You deserve a rest.”

  “A day will probably do. I’m going to be tracking down a Singer—John Tso. I think I can find him fairly quickly with my brother’s and mother’s help. They’ve already put the word out to his relatives. Someone must have seen him by now.”

  “I’ve met the man. Well respected, but older than dirt and damned independent, if I remember correctly. If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know.” Big Ed paused, then added, “By the way, I think you’re right to put him at the top of your list of priorities. You’re not currently working a major case, so this is your opportunity to get a proper Sing done. You’ll never regain the respect or the trust of the Dineh until you undo what’s hanging over you now.”

  Ella stopped by the nurses station so they would know where she was going, and checked herself out. Her physician, who’d been making his rounds, expressed some concern that the lack of oxygen might have left some neurological damage, but was forced to concede that all the tests they’d run so far had come back within normal parameters.

  “I need to see my daughter and get back to my life,” Ella explained, hoping to make him understand, but determined not to let anyone talk her out of leaving.

  After agreeing to watch for headaches and some other symptoms, Ella signed the discharge papers and walked outside, allowing Big Ed to hold the door open for her. Stopping at the curb, it suddenly hit her that she didn’t have her unit here.

  “Can I hitch a ride with you, Chief?”

  “Of course. Why do you think I hung around?”

  They were under way five minutes later. Big Ed kept his eyes on the road, but it was quickly clear to Ella that he had other matters on his mind. “By the way, the place where you . . . had your accident,” he said, finding the right words at last, “is expected to attract skinwalkers once again, for obvious reasons. Your brother and a handful of other hataaliis are planning to go out there and do another Sing so our people will know it’s safe to return and continue sealing off those mines. But even after the Sing is done I doubt we’ll ever see another large crowd gathered there again.”

  “That’s just as well. Between the contamination and the undocumented mines, that area is an accident waiting to happen.” Ella sat back enjoying the warmth of the morning sun as it played on her face. It was good to be alive.

  “A lot of people who go through what you did yesterday never look at their lives in the same way again. Take plenty of time to get your bearings, Shorty. You owe it to yourself.”

  Ella took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m okay, Chief, really, though I expect I’ll be smothering my daughter with love for the next few days. Of course, knowing her, she’ll only take it for a short time, then throw her teddy bear at me and tell me to leave her alone. She’s an independent little thing.”

  When Big Ed laughed, his entire body shook and laughed with him. Yet, despite his wide girth, the man had the stamina of an athlete. Every spring Big Ed insisted on qualifying with the officers on the obstacle course and track. He’d never failed yet, proving that, as it was with most things on the Rez, appearances could be deceiving.

  As Big Ed parked behind her patrol unit in the driveway of her mother’s house, Ella saw her nearly six-year-old daughter Dawn playing with Two, the family mutt. When the little girl smiled and waved, a burst of unmitigated joy filled Ella. She’d never been happier to be home.

  As soon as Big Ed pulled to a stop, Ella got out. Dawn ran up and launched herself into Ella’s arms, an increasingly rare show of affection that Ella had truly missed.

  “Shimasání said you were sick,” Dawn said as they were sharing a big hug. “But I knew you’d come home today.”

  Ella hugged Dawn tightly one more time before letting her go. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, sweetie.” The connection between them was strong. Dawn, like Rose, always seemed to know when she was in trouble.

  A second later Rose came out the front door. Standing on the porch, she gazed at Ella with tear-filled eyes. “You’re home!” Rose opened her arms wide and Ella knew then that no taboo would ever break the bond between them. Yet, as she drew near, Ella couldn’t help but notice the medicine pouch pinned to the side of her mother’s long skirt.

  Ella stopped short of hugging her. “Are you sure it’s okay with you, Mom?”

  Rose answered by taking Ella into her arms. “The pouch is there to honor who we are as a people.”

  Big Ed, who’d remained in his car, called out to Ella, “If you need more than one day off, Shorty, be sure to take it. Unless the case load suddenly picks up, we’ll manage without you.”

  As her boss drove off, Rose
looked at her daughter. “Did you ask for time off?”

  “Yeah,” Ella said with a tiny smile. “There’s a first time for everything! But, Mom, under the circumstances, I figured I needed to go find the Singer as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Rose said, then led the way back inside. “I’ve been trying to get some word on his whereabouts and I imagine we’ll hear soon. Come inside. Your friend the doctor stopped by your hospital room, discovered you’d already left, and called me,” she said, referring to Carolyn, “so I kept breakfast warming for you in the oven.”

  Rose went to the kitchen, the heart of their household, and for the first time since she’d left for work yesterday, Ella relaxed. Her mother brought her a platter of scrambled eggs with green chile, flour tortillas, and sausage links while she sipped freshly brewed coffee.

  Breakfast was great and she ate greedily. Once her stomach was full, her spirit felt renewed and she was filled with energy. She looked around the kitchen appreciating the earth tones that covered the walls and the richness of the brick floors. She was home and things were going to be all right.

  Hearing a car drive up, Rose started to leave the stove where she was fixing mutton stew for tonight’s dinner but Ella, having finished her meal, stood up. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of it.”

  Out on the porch, Ella saw Jennifer Clani, Dawn’s baby-sitter, getting out of her car. Jennifer usually arrived at seven A.M., except on Mondays and Thursdays. She’d chosen those days off because they coincided with classes she took at the college. “It’s Boots,” she called back to Rose. “I guess she was running late today.” Ella looked at her watch, which had a badly scratched crystal now, but still worked.

  Rose came out of the kitchen, drying her hands. “I’m surprised she’s here,” Rose said softly. “Her grandmother, my dearest friend, is a staunch traditionalist. When she heard the stories about what happened yesterday, she didn’t want Boots to come until you had your Sing done, so I really wasn’t expecting her to show up. But maybe your brother has finally managed to convince people that you were never truly dead.”

  They both greeted Jennifer Clani warmly and went inside the house with her. Dawn was in her room now, watching a children’s nature program on the small television set her father had bought for her.

  “I didn’t expect you,” Rose said, “but I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Your son came by to visit us,” Jennifer said, looking at Rose. “He spoke to our family, said prayers, and gave us some special things for our medicine pouches. He also told Grandmother that he’d already done a blessing over you, your granddaughter, and your grandson, and that you all have medicine pouches of your own now. Since we’re all protected, I saw no need for me to stay away.”

  Ella looked at Rose, surprised to hear that her brother had done a special blessing over her mom and the children.

  Rose looked back at Ella and nodded. “It was the right thing to do,” she said. “My daughter-in-law insisted, and for once, I agreed with her.”

  Ella said nothing, though she was starting to feel like Typhoid Mary.

  Jennifer Clani looked at Ella speculatively and warned, “But not everyone will feel like my family does—particularly if they watched the morning news on TV. Do you remember the camera crew that was there yesterday?”

  Ella nodded. “Don’t tell me they got everything on tape and decided to actually put it on the air.”

  Jennifer nodded. “It was pretty impressive,” she said, and shuddered. “One minute you were beneath the sheet, and the next you were sitting up. It made my grandmother jump right out of her chair.”

  Ella stared at Boots in surprise. “You saw it too?” Seeing Boots nod, she added, “I’m amazed you still came.”

  Boots smiled. “Our tribe’s medical examiner was interviewed, too, and she said that if you’d really been dead and deprived of oxygen for as long as it took them to dig you out, you’d have permanent brain damage and probably wouldn’t be able to even move. Between that, and your brother’s assurances that you weren’t really dead in the first place . . .” she said with a shrug. “For me, it was enough.”

  Jennifer paused before continuing. “But others have different opinions and explanations for what happened.” Jennifer looked at Ella hesitantly. “You will have a Sing done like your brother said, won’t you?”

  Ella suddenly realized that Jennifer had come despite the fears and doubts she still harbored, and that act of loyalty touched her deeply. “Yes, I will, just as soon as I can find the hataalii and make the request. In fact, I’m planning to start searching for him myself today.”

  “They say he often goes to the area where the Mancos River flows into the San Juan. That’s said to be a holy place, and that’s where he likes to get the white sand he uses for his sand paintings.”

  “Then I’ll drive up there this morning,” Ella answered. Jennifer had done her part by showing up, she’d do hers.

  As Jennifer walked up the hall to Dawn’s room and Rose went back into the kitchen, Ella picked up Dawn’s toys from the living-room carpet, grateful to do this very ordinary chore.

  Once finished, her thoughts turned naturally to John Tso and the search she’d begin shortly. She was actually looking forward to the road trip. It would give her time to sort out her thoughts.

  Although she’d never be able to prove what she’d experienced hadn’t been brought on by her own terror, one thing was clear. If death signaled the end of life, then the path that led to death wasn’t an unpleasant one. Death didn’t need to be feared. And if there was a life beyond death—and everything in her was telling her there was—then that gave everything a whole new perspective, one she’d never considered before.

  Hearing the phone ring and her mother answering, Ella focused on the present. It was time to concentrate on her life here and the work she had to do.

  Rose returned to the living room a moment later. “The manager of the trading post at Beclabito said he saw hastiin sání just yesterday.”

  “Then I’ll start there since it’s closer, then go where Boots suggested,” Ella said, standing.

  “I’ll fix you a thermos of cocoa and a snack to take with you,” Rose said. “I wish you could stay home today, but I know it’s important that you get this Sing done quickly.” She sighed. “The basic problem—what’s going to compound people’s fears—is our family legacy, you know.”

  “No one will ever forget the stories about that particular ancestor of ours, will they?” Ella observed.

  “When I was younger, Mist Eagle seemed like the epitome of foolishness and evil, but now that I’m older and have seen more of life, I don’t judge her quite as harshly,” Rose said. “She was just a woman in love.”

  Hearing soft footsteps, Ella turned her head and saw Jennifer Clani at the end of the hall. “I don’t know the details behind your family legacy, but I do know that’s the reason some of the traditionalists are afraid of your family. Does the legacy have something to do with the gift of intuition that runs through the women in your clan?”

  Ella wasn’t surprised that Lena Clani, Rose’s old friend, had never given Boots the details. Her mother’s friends were fiercely loyal to her. That was a quality Rose often inspired in others.

  “Come sit with us,” Rose said. “You have a right to hear the story.” As Jennifer sat down, Rose continued softly. “It started generations ago, before the Dineh had a reservation, even before the war with the white man. Mist Eagle, a woman of our clan, fell in love with Fire Hawk, a man who was also from our clan. Respecting the taboo, Fire Hawk married another, but Mist Eagle’s love for him continued to grow. One night when Fire Hawk’s wife went out, Mist Eagle went into his hogan and seduced him. Before long, it was clear that she was pregnant.”

  “Did he leave his wife?” Jennifer asked, a touch of horror in her voice.

  Ella heard it and understood. The People considered a physical relationship with someone of their own clan to be incest. “Fire
Hawk committed suicide rather than face the shame,” Ella said.

  “What happened to Mist Eagle?” Boots asked.

  “She gave birth to a girl, but she and her daughter were shunned,” Rose said. “Alone, Mist Eagle learned about herbs and about healing. Skinwalkers sought her out and were the only ones who would speak to her, so Mist Eagle learned what they could teach her, though she never became like them.

  “Then, one day, she helped an old man who had gone out alone into the desert to die. When he returned to his village healed, word about her abilities spread. People started going to her secretly for help, but they were still afraid of her. It was said that Mist Eagle could kill as easily as heal. But the truth was that she never turned to evil.”

  “That’s not a bad legacy,” Jennifer said, puzzled.

  “It’s not the end of the story,” Rose said in a heavy voice. “Mist Eagle taught her daughter everything she knew. At first the girl used her knowledge and power only for good, but eventually the darkness that surrounded her birth overwhelmed her and she turned to evil.”

  “But for the legacy to have continued, Mist Eagle’s daughter must have had a daughter of her own, right?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yes, a girl, by her father’s brother, a man who was much older than she. As the generations passed, each child was encouraged to develop whatever special ability he or she possessed, and make their gift as individual as they were. Yet the roots of evil remained and a few of our ancestors did end up using their gift to harm others. But most of Mist Eagle’s direct descendants have chosen to help the tribe.”

  “It’s all mostly legend, you realize that, don’t you?” Ella asked softly, looking at Boots. “I mean, so much time has passed that it’s really impossible for anyone to verify any of this. Stories can grow all by themselves if the speaker has a strong imagination.”

  “There’s probably a lot of truth to it, too,” Boots answered. “Our people have relied on word-of-mouth teachings for generations. It’s our way.”

  “Certainly there’s some truth to the story, but my intuition at least is not so much a gift as it is training. I’ve been taught to be especially observant and that’s given me an edge, like a person who’s gifted in music and studies to become proficient with a certain instrument.”