Tilly and the Crazy Eights

by Monique Gray Smith

  Sarah, too, had never been in a healing circle. Sure, she smudged at home, but that was private. After all, she was a private person. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

  That evening, as she unpacked, she asked Annie, “So what d’ya think, Annie? You gonna go tonight?”

  Annie, who now was sitting in the lounge chair, had her feet up on the ottoman and her book Monkey Beach in hand. She looked across the room, made eye contact with Sarah, and then looked away, lifting her book to read. “It isn’t really something I’m comfortable with.”

  After a few moments, Annie removed her glasses and placed them atop her head. “How about you, Sarah? Are you going to go?”

  Sarah moved across the room and tucked her nighty under the hotel pillow. “Naw. It’s not really my thing.” The sisters looked at each other and then Annie turned back to her book and Sarah continued unpacking. When she finished zipping up her suitcase, Sarah walked over to where her sister was reading, sat in the chair opposite, and then lifted each foot onto the ottoman. She had to push Annie’s feet over, which produced a furrowed brow stare.

  “What? You don’t need the whole foot stool.”

  “It’s not a foot stool, it’s an ottoman.” As soon as the words escaped Annie’s mouth she wanted to take them back. But, to her surprise, Sarah simply moved her upper body from side to side as she mocked Annie and repeated sarcastically, “It’s an ottoman.”

  Annie couldn’t contain herself. She started to laugh. Sarah began to laugh, too. When Annie caught her breath she said, “That’s not really what I sound like.” Sarah looked across at her sister, tilted her chin downwards and lifted her eyebrows. Both women sank a bit deeper into their chairs. The relaxation was welcome tonight.

  With her eyes closed, Sarah quietly said, “I’ve been thinkin’ Annie, an’ I’m gonna go tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “I’m going to join you then.” Annie sat up a bit in her chair, removed the book from her lap and set it on the table.

  “Why?” asked Sarah, eyes still closed.

  Annie didn’t really know why.

  Sarah kept speaking, “You don’t have to, you know. I can take care of me and you can take care of you. ’Member, we already had this talk.”

  Annie swallowed. The tulips. That conversation. Residential school secrets. Unable to protect and keep safe. She swallowed again. Her mouth dry. Heart thumping. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the chair.

  “You okay, Annie?”

  No response.

  Sarah reached across and placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “Annie, you okay?”

  With effort, Annie moved her head up and down.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Sarah said. “I won’t go. I’m tired anyway. We can stay in an’ play cards.”

  “No.” Annie inhaled.“No. I think I want to go.”

  “You think?”

  Annie nodded and then began to share. “I’m embarrassed to tell you this, Sarah, but I’ve never been in a talking circle.” She proceeded to tell her that she didn’t know what to do and was afraid to make a mistake. Or worse, be judged by the other elders for not knowing what to do. “When I moved away to Toronto, these things, these ceremonies weren’t happening. Everyone was too busy trying not to be Indian.”

  Sarah grinned at her sister and started laughing.

  “Really, Sarah? I open up and share with you and this is what you do? You laugh in my face? No wonder I went away all those years ago and never came back.”

  “No! No wait, Annie, let me explain.” Annie shrugged Sarah’s hand off her arm.

  “I’m laughing cuz I ain’t ever been in no talkin’ circle either.”

  44

  The Circle

  IT WAS 6:55 P.M. when Poncho entered the lobby where everyone had already gathered.

  Chuck took a step to greet him and asked, “Rose?”

  Poncho shook his head once and cast his eyes downwards. Chuck reached up and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave a squeeze.

  Bea led everyone back to their room where nine chairs formed a tight circle in the cramped space of the hotel room. In the middle, on the hotel coffee table, Mabel had created an altar. She’d placed an eagle feather, a smudge bowl, a blade of sweetgrass, a bowl of water, and a pouch of tobacco. There was also a plate of food with a tea bag and pinch of tobacco on it. The window and front door were wide open, and the air conditioning was on. They needed to ensure adequate airflow so that the smoke from the smudge didn’t set off the fire alarm. When everyone had taken a seat, Chuck reached over to remove the empty chair.

  Poncho asked, “Can we leave it?”

  Chuck turned to Poncho, who kept talking. “My Momma always said there was room at the table for one more. Maybe tonight we could follow that ’n leave the chair in the circle.” He paused and took a breath. “For my Rose.”

  “Sure, Poncho,” Chuck replied, smiling at his friend before turning to address the group. “Thank you, everyone, for coming this evening, I thought it would be good to go over a few of the protocols of being in circle. Even though we are all elders, doesn’t mean we all know our culture or ceremonies. Thanks to...” Chuck took a breath and was about to go on about Residential schools, the Indian act, and so much more, but Bea placed a hand on his knee and gave a slight shake of her head.

  “Not the time or place?”

  Bea shook her head again.

  Chuck looked around the circle and continued, “Bea, Mabel, and I talked earlier and would like to suggest we smudge first, then we’ll send the feather around to the left. Follow your heart. When you have the feather, you can share whatever you want or you can choose to pass. Remember that whoever has the feather is the only person to talk at that time.” He paused for a moment, giving time for everyone to consider what he had said.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Nods up and down.

  Bea stood, and the others followed her lead. She lit the blade of sweetgrass and turned to the person on her left, Tilly. Bea fanned the sweetgrass with the eagle feather and when the smoke was wafting, she held it out for Tilly to smudge herself. After Tilly was finished, Bea made her way around the circle. When she reached Annie, the last in the circle, Bea held the blade of sweetgrass and feather for her to take. Annie’s hands remained by her side as she looked at Bea, unsure of what to do.

  Bea softly looked at Annie. “It’s okay. Just do as I did for you.”

  Annie reached up and took the braid of sweetgrass and eagle feather into her hands. She fanned the sweetgrass and held it out for Bea to smudge herself.

  “All my relations,” Bea said, indicating to Annie that the smudging was complete; however, Annie continued to look at Bea, uncertain of what to do next.

  “Place the sweetgrass in the bowl and the feather facing upwards. It will continue to act as a messenger between us and the Ancestors. When the circle is over, we will turn the feather over and place it back in the feather holder.”

  Annie followed Bea’s guidance and then stepped back into the circle. Mabel reached for the hands of those who stood beside her. “Left hand facing up, extending back to the wisdom, teachings, and guidance from our Ancestors. Right hand facing down, passing forward the wisdom of our Ancestors and the wisdom we’ve gained during our life.”

  Nervous giggles erupted from Lucy and Sarah as they attempted to sort out their hands. As serenity descended on the group, Mabel offered a prayer.

  At one point in her prayer, Mabel shared, “We offer thanksgiving to the Ancestors to the left of us, the Ancestors to the right of us, the Ancestors behind us and those in front of us. Thank you for blanketing us with your love, guidance, and protection. To you, our Ancestors, who gave up so much so that we can stand here as we do today, we humbly offer thanksgiving.
”

  Tilly had heard Mabel pray many, many times, but she’d never heard her speak of Ancestors being all around or for blanketing with love, guidance, and protection. She felt it. Their presence. Their warmth. Their love. Their adoration. Their support. Not only Grandma Tilly, but the presence of others as well. And in that moment Tilly realized she wasn’t alone. She was never alone.

  It was one thing to understand it in her mind. But in her heart, being able to feel the love woven into the blanket wrapped around her and knowing she was never alone caused tears of gratitude to flow down Tilly’s cheeks.

  Mabel stood and retrieved her drum from its bag. Out of habit, she ran her hand around the front of it, but in this New Mexico heat it didn’t need to be warmed. She started with the beat of the Women’s Warrior song, the same song Tilly had sung just the day before overlooking the red rocks of Sedona. This time all the women sang.

  “Hey, hey, hey

  Yuhi oh oh ho

  Yuhi oh oh ho

  Hey, hey, yuhi oh…”

  45

  One Less Thorn

  LATER THAT EVENING, after the talking circle had ended, Tilly was sitting on her hotel balcony soaking up the warmth of the New Mexico evening when she heard music playing below. Putting down her journal she stood to see where the music was coming from. To her surprise, she saw Poncho and Rose dancing on the garden terrace, moving together like one. Not a single misstep. Almost as if Rose could anticipate Poncho’s every move.

  The next morning, Tilly was out on the hotel patio enjoying her morning coffee when Rose meandered out. Tilly invited Rose to join her and decided to tell Rose about seeing her and Poncho dancing the night before. “It was so beautiful to see the way the two of you moved together. Like one.”

  “Well, that’s what happens when you been dancin’ together as long as we have,” Rose said. She was sensitive to growing old, never sharing any personal information that might reveal her age.

  “How’ve you made it work, Rose? You know, dancing together for so many years?”

  “Oh, the dancin’. ” She stared at Tilly for a few moments. “That’s the easy part.”

  Under the intimidating glare of Rose, Tilly squirmed.

  “I think I know what you’re asking, Tilly,” Rose said. “It’s about how we make it as a couple. Right?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Tilly was unaware that she was turning her wedding band around and around.

  “You guess? Well, you need to get clear if that’s what you’re askin’ me, because if it is then you need to be ready for what I have to say.” Rose looked at her over her glasses. “You might not like what I have to say.”

  Tilly hesitated and then moved her head up and down in slow motion.“That’s what I’m asking, Rose.”

  Rose’s gaze turned down to the cup she held between her palms. “First thing you need to know is that it ain’t always easy. And it ain’t always hard.” Rose looked up to see if Tilly was listening. “And sometimes it’s downright boring.”

  “How do you make it work though? You know, when it’s hard?” Tilly lifted her eyebrows and continued. “Or when it’s boring?”

  “I know this is gonna sound, what’s that word?” Rose squinted her eyes and looked up to the left, searching her mind for the word. “Cliché. That’s it.” She looked at Tilly. “Bet you’re surprised a crusty old lady like me knows that word.”

  Tilly shook her head. “No.” If Tilly had learned anything on this trip so far it was to never underestimate anyone. Especially not an elder!

  Rose continued, “Anyway, you have to take it one day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time. I’m sure if you were to ask my husband he’d even say that to live with me you have to sometimes take it one minute at a time.” Both women giggled. The comfort that surrounded their conversation increased. “Poncho ’n me, we’ve had our share of hard times, Tilly. Hard years, actually. But for some reason that no one seems to understand—not even me—he loves me.”

  Tilly was surprised by the depth of Rose’s honesty and vulnerability. She waited as Rose considered what to say next.

  “Quite a few years ago, we separated for a while. Well, we didn’t officially separate, but he asked me to move outta our bedroom. That was more hurtful than if he’d kicked me out. And not for the reason you might think, Tilly. Yes, it was the place where we had our special relations.”

  “Special relations?” Tilly looked at Rose for a moment. The sides of Rose’s mouth turned upwards, her cheeks flushed.

  “Oh. Got it.” Tilly looked down at the table. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” A bit curt, but she carried on, “It was hard to move out of the bedroom cuz that’s where we did our best talkin’. What do you young people call it?”

  Tilly shook her head. She had no idea what Rose was referring to.

  “I think my daughter calls it ‘pillow talk’. Anyway, we could talk about anythin’ lyin’ there facin’ each other, holdin’ hands. So, when he asked me to move out of our room, I knew how much I’d hurt him.”

  “Can I ask what you did that hurt him?” Tilly knew she was taking a huge risk asking this, especially of Rose.

  “You can ask, but doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you.”

  Ouch. Both women sat in the residue of Rose’s snarky remark.

  “Sorry, Tilly.” Rose was mad at herself for her response. When was she going to learn? “Lucy’s always telling me I need to be kinder,” she said and looked at Tilly. “I’m trying.”

  “It’s okay, Rose.”

  Rose looked straight ahead, avoiding Tilly’s gaze and proceeded to tell her that she’d had a relationship outside of her marriage. “I never felt like I deserved to be loved, not the way Poncho loved me. So, I hurt him. I hurt him in ways that almost ruined him. And me. And, us. Somehow, though, over time he found it in his heart to forgive me.”

  Rose proceeded to share with Tilly that Poncho had asked her to go to a healing program. He thought it would be helpful if she began to deal with the negative messages and hurt that happened at Residential school. At first, she had refused, but eventually she gave in. “I hated it there, I made the staff’s job real hard.”

  Tilly could only imagine.

  “I learned, though, that I didn’t know how to love. I thought I did, but I didn’t. How could I? I went to that school when I was four and never came home till I was twelve. Not once. Not even for holidays. And the things that were done to me when I was there,” Rose’s voice trailed off. She sat quiet and motionless for a bit. “Only person who really knows what happened there is Lucy. And since we’re bein’ truthful, I don’t even know why she’s still my friend. I’m not as good a friend to her as she is to me.” Rose paused for a moment. “But you see, Tilly, that’s what happens when you been hurt real bad and you don’t know what to do with all the hate in your heart. You have to share it somehow cuz it’s just too much to carry. So me, I share it by bein’ mean. I’ve been nasty to pretty much everyone.” Rose took a sip of her coffee, swallowed hard, and added, “Even my kids, Tilly. Thank goodness they had Poncho to balance things out, but you know where it changed?”

  Tilly shook her head from side to side.

  “With my grandbabies.” Rose couldn’t help herself, the thought of those precious little ones and even the teenagers and their moodiness made her smile. “Those grandbabies they changed my life.” Rose cleared her throat. “They’re teachin’ me how to love.”

  Tilly’s eyes stung as they filled with tears. No matter how many times she listened to former students share their stories, it was always the same. Heart-wrenching.

  “I know it all sounds corny. Especially coming from me.” Rose raised her eyebrows while looking at Tilly. “I know people think I’m a bitch, but I’ve softened over the years.”

  Tilly couldn’t help herself, a smile crossed her face.

  Rose
playfully swatted at her arm and Tilly coiled back.

  “Really, I have.”

  Tilly half smiled at her. “Mm-hmm.”

  They sat finishing their coffees. Rose wondered if she dared continue. Things had just gotten to a sweet place with Tilly, why go wreckin’ it? But it wasn’t in Rose’s nature to not say what needed to be said.

  “I’m gonna give it to you straight, Tilly.”

  Tilly thought, Oh no, here it comes. The wrath of Rose.

  Rose twisted in her chair so she faced Tilly. “I hurt Poncho real bad and almost lost the most loving and kind man that the world knows. God knows I don’t deserve a man like him.” She lifted her forefinger, leaned forward, and pointed at Tilly. “But listen to me when I tell you, don’t do what I did. It took years for Poncho to trust me again. And even longer for me to trust myself.” Rose sat back in her chair, crossed her legs, and swung the top one back and forth. The truth of what had just been said danced in and around the two women.

  Eventually, Rose looked at Tilly and shook her head slowly. “Some days, I still don’t think I’ve forgiven myself for hurting him like I did.” Rose inhaled deeply, as if seeking solace in the ancient Albuquerque air.

  Tilly crossed her arms, thinking of Mick and how judgmental he was about people who had extramarital affairs. He most certainly would not approve of the time she had spent with Rob, especially if he knew the feelings she had for him.

  Rose looked down and motioned her head to Tilly’s hand. “I see you playin’ with your weddin’ band and how you been mopin’ about. Don’t make the same mistake I did, Tilly. Not all men will invite you back to the pillow. Not all men are like my Poncho.”

  As if Rose read Tilly’s mind, she added, “I’ve learned that just because you do a bad thing, doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But I don’t want you carryin’ the same burden, so,” she paused and waited for Tilly to look at her. “Be. Careful.”