The Fourth World

by Laurence Moroney

  *

  They landed on a shelf of a rocky mesa, overlooking a road that bent round sharply to the north towards the town that Bob had mentioned. From this position, they could only be spotted by someone who happened to be driving along that patch of road as they landed.

  “We don’t get much traffic here,” said Bob “so it’s easy to hide.”

  After covering the ships with sand-colored tarps, they climbed off the shelf, and stepped down through sandy rocks to level ground.

  “Wait here,” said Bob. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Nizhoni was breathing heavily and holding her abdomen now. It seemed that she was waiting for Bob to leave before doing so.

  “What is it?” said Fintan. “And why are you hiding it from Bob?”

  She looked at him with a gaze that said ‘Can’t you guess?’ before giving up and just saying “Girl stuff.”

  It took a moment before Fintan realized what she meant.

  “Oh,” he said, embarrassed. “Sorry”

  “It’s ok,” she said. “No, it’s not ok. This hurts.”

  Fintan shrugged. “Sorry,” he repeated.

  “Is that all you can say?” snapped Nizhoni. “Better to just say nothing, ok?”

  Fintan nodded. “Ok.” He started to apologize for it again, but stopped and said nothing.

  “Hey,” said Fintan, “I know a joke about this; maybe it will cheer you up?”

  “It better be good,” said Nizhoni.

  “What’s the difference between a girl with, you know, what you have, and a hungry attack dog?” said Fintan.

  She shrugged.

  “Lipstick,” said Fintan, laughing.

  Nizhoni punched him, hard, on the arm.

  “Ow,” said Fintan. “That hurts”

  “Good.”

  “Maybe it’s not a joke at all. Maybe it’s the truth.”

  She hit him again. Not so hard this time. She smiled a little.

  “Good thing I didn’t tell you the other joke about why girls get that,” said Fintan. “Because they deserve it!”

  At that moment Bob rounded the corner as Nizhoni grabbed a branch and swung it at Fintan’s head.

  He leaned out the window of his truck. “Am I interrupting something?”

  *

  The ride was bumpy and dusty, but filled with cheer. “We’re heading to a town called Shiprock,” said Bob. “Nizhoni’s family lives just outside it.”

  “What’s it like?” asked Fintan.

  “Depends on what you’re looking for,” said Bob. “If you are into bright lights and pretty buildings, you’ll have to look somewhere else. But, if you’re looking for a place where people build a community and really look out for each other, it’s hard to find a more beautiful place on Earth.”

  To the south a tall, dim tower stood on the horizon.

  “That’s the Shiprock itself, but it’s an ugly name given to it by the Spanish. We prefer to call it Tse Bit’a’i.” said Bob.

  “We’ve realized that we want to use our own names for things now,” said Nizhoni. “It’s important for us to keep our own culture.”

  Fintan nodded. “I can appreciate that” he said. “In Ireland, except for some small areas, we’ve pretty much become that same as the English. It’s a shame.”

  “You’re Irish?” said Bob. “I didn’t know that. I knew an Irish man once. Good man.”

  He turned to Nizhoni. “He had a clan too, can you believe that?”

  “So, Fintan,” said Bob. “Do you have a clan?”

  “Funny you should ask that,” said Fintan. “My mother’s maiden name is O’Carroll, and she’s big into the family clan. They meet once a year to trace ancestry and all that. They claim to be from the Laigin clan.”

  Bob was silent for a while.

  “I guess that means you aren’t a Bilagaana after all,” he said.

  “I’ve heard that word a couple of times now,” said Fintan. “What does it mean?”

  “Literally,” said Nizhoni. “It means someone without a clan. It’s usually derogatory.”

  “Oh thanks,” said Fintan.

  “Sorry,” said Bob “but we’re used to calling white people by that term. Maybe when you know us better you’ll understand. No offense intended.”

  “I think I understand a little,” said Fintan. “There’s a derogatory word in my language too. We can sometimes call someone a Sasanach.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Nizhoni.

  “It’s pretty bad,” said Fintan. “And you’re a girl and all that. Don’t want to hurt your delicate ears.”

  She punched him again, and Fintan could see Bob smiling in the rear view mirror.

  “So?” said Bob. “What’s a Sasanach? I like the sound of it, and know some people who are not very nice that it might suit.”

  Fintan smiled. “It means English man.”

  Bob laughed, long and hard.

  *

  They finally arrived at Nizhoni’s house. Bob pulled the truck up the dirt drive, and Fintan saw an old and run-down one-story house.

  Nizhoni read Fintan’s expression.

  “It’s not much to look at,” she said. “But it’s full of love.”

  “And that’s what truly matters,” said Fintan.

  Bob stopped the truck and wrestled the door open. He stepped around the side to let Nizhoni out. By then, the front door of the house had opened, and a man came out, followed by a woman and a younger girl.

  “Father!” cried Nizhoni and ran to embrace him. He held her for a long time, closly. “Mother!” said Nizhoni as she hugged her mother too.

  “Nanabah!” cried Nizhoni, hugging the younger girl. She looked just like Nizhoni, except smaller.

  Fintan got out, and walked around the car to stand beside Bob, as a respectable distance to allow the family to enjoy their reunion.

  Nizhoni’s father was the first to spot him. Like Nizhoni his hair and eyes were dark, and he looked almost Asian. His long hair had steely grey in it, his eyes were wrinkled, and his skin looked tough and weathered.

  “Who is that?” he said in a gravelly voice.

  “Nizhoni’s boyfriend,” said Bob, smirking. “Reilly, Fintan of the Laigin clan.”

  “What?” said Nizhoni’s father. “I send my little girl to school and she comes home with a boyfriend. Hold him while I go get my gun.”

  Bob’s powerful arms wrapped themselves around Fintan while Nizhoni’s father went into the house. He came back out holding something covered with a cloth.

  “Dad!” said Nizhoni. “Stop!”

  Fintan wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go. Bob’s grip held him like a rock.

  Her father approached him. “You know what I like to do to outsiders,” he said to Bob. “Particularly white men who come here with my daughter.”

  Fintan had visions of being scalped by the red-skinned warriors of old cowboy movies.

  The man looked Fintan in the eye and removed the cloth.

  “I like to welcome them to my humble home,” he said, and handed Fintan a cold drink. Nizhoni rolled her eyes.

  “You must be thirsty from a long journey,” he said with a slight smile.

  Chapter 23: Nizhoni’s Kinaalda

  A light lunch welcomed them inside Nizhoni’s house. Like the house itself, it was modest, and everything was homemade, from the taco-like fry bread, to stews made of dried corn and chili.

  “Sorry,” said Nizhoni. “I forgot to tell you that my father is a bit of a joker.”

  Her father laughed and clapped Fintan on the shoulder. “For a white boy, you are already pale,” he said through a mouth full of food. “But you got even paler. I figured you were ready to chew Standing Bear’s arm off to get away!”

  “And Dad,” said Nizhoni. “He’s not my boyfriend, ok!”

  The only answer from her father was a laugh.

  “Sir,” said Fintan. “She’s right, and I’m sorry to impose. Nizhoni and I have become good friends, and I was
n’t going back home for Christmas, so she asked me to come here instead of being alone.”

  Nizhoni’s father looked at her. She met his gaze, unblinking. “So you do remember what I taught you?” he said. “Good.”

  He turned back to Fintan. “Sir, eh? I like the sound of that. Reilly, Fintan of the Laigin clan, while in this house you are a friend of my family and you may call me Sir.”

  Nizhoni and her sister rolled their eyes and looked down into their food. Nizhoni’s mother discretely went to the kitchen to get some more food. Bob kept eating, seemingly oblivious.

  She returned with some more fried bread and chilli. She offered some to Fintan and smiled, genuinely happy when he took some. “You can call me Mrs Benally,” she said. “And my husband Mister Benally. Don’t worry about what he says.”

  Nizhoni raised her eyebrows at her father to say ‘now we know who the boss is’. Bob kept eating.

  “It’s nearly Christmas,” she said “and while we don’t really celebrate it, we do like to buy little gifts for each other. We were waiting for Nizhoni to come back, so would you mind if we went down to the trading post later?”

  “I’d love to!” said Fintan. “And I almost forgot!”

  He left the table and reached into his bag. “There’s something small I brought from Ireland that I’d love to share with you, as a thank you for opening your house to me.”

  Fintan took out the box. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s only small.”

  Nizhoni’s mother took it gratefully and unwrapped it.

  “Chocolate!” cried Nanabah. It was the first thing Fintan had heard her say.

  “Chocolate?” said Nizhoni. She looked at the package in her mother’s hands. “Chocolate!” she repeated.

  Mr Benally smiled. “I live in a house full of girls.”

  “Oh,” said Nizhoni. “I’ve been so excited I almost forgot!”. She took her mother into the kitchen to tell her something. Nanabah followed. Inside there was some whooping and cheering.

  “Ah,” Mister Benally said to Bob. “I guess that means it is time for her Kinaalda.”

  *

  Bob left them after lunch and they drove a rickety station wagon to the local trading post. Fintan was doing his best to unlearn everything about his old life as he tried to look at life through their eyes. His mother had always taught him that they were better than most of the people around them, and that his family was the one that most others looked up to. She’d be upset by him associating with such obviously poor people, but Fintan realized that he’d grown up quickly in the last few months. Now he was looking at them with different values, and he was impressed.

  Nanabah didn’t say much with her mouth, but her eyes danced as she and Nizhoni glanced around the jewelry in the trading store. Occasionally they’d glance over at Mrs Benally who was looking at dresses with the store clerk.

  Fintan looked in his wallet. He had some money from the school stipend, and other than the Christmas party, he hadn’t spent a lot. He was more worried about what he could pick up for them than by how much it would cost.

  For Mister Benally, Fintan figured that a leather wallet would suit. Nizhoni’s mother would get a small glass charm that would look pretty in the house. Nanabah would get a simple blue bracelet that looked like it would suit her. For Bob he found a nice pen, and he still had plenty of money left over.

  And then he blanked out a little. His heart fluttered and he laughed at himself. He blushed a little, even though nobody was looking.

  Nizhoni and her sister had moved on to looking at shoes, so he creeped into the jewelry section. And then he saw it, a simple chain with a carved eagle’s feather. It was stained in the four colors of the Navajo that were so precious to her. It was perfect.

  Discretely he paid for it, and tucked it into his pocket.

  *

  “The Kinaalda,” said Mister Benally “is a pretty sacred ceremony to the Diné. We celebrate it when the girl comes of age. It’s special.” He paused a little, smiling. “My little girl is going to become a woman.”

  The ceremony started after they returned from the trading post. Nizhoni and her mother withdrew to the family hogan, which was in the yard behind the house. When they emerged, Nizhoni looked radiant. She was wearing a traditional, woven dress in the four colors of turquoise, white, yellow and black. It was wrapped around her waist with a thick black woven belt. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and around her neck was an array of necklaces of silver and turquoise.

  Other family members, various aunts, uncles and cousins as well as family members started to show up. They all went into the hogan, but Fintan stayed outside, part shy, part unsure if he would be welcome or not.

  A few moments later Nanabah’s chubby face peeked out of the flap covering the entrance into the hogan. “Come on in,” she said. “We don’t smell.”

  She smiled that same smile that Nizhoni had when she was playing with him.

  He gently moved the flap aside and entered the hogan. It was pretty big, holding maybe twenty people with room to spare. Inside it reminded him a little of a miniature circus top, having eight walls and a high, angular roof. It was lit and heated by a fire in the center. A hole in the roof above served as a chimney.

  Nizhoni was sitting on a mat near the center, and an old man was chanting over her. Her mother was waiting eagerly beside her. Bob was a little to Fintan’s left, and he gestured to Fintan to come and sit with him. Fintan joined him, sitting cross legged, and watching the ceremony.

  “Nizhoni’s grandfather is a medicine man,” said Bob. “It’s a great honor for her to have him perform her Kinaalda.”

  The old man stepped away from Nizhoni and muttered something to her mother. Smiling, Mrs Benally kneeled in front of her and started massaging her shoulders and head. She started softly and then got steadily harder with her massaging.

  “She’s molding her,” said Bob. “It is what will shape her into a beautiful and strong woman.”

  Soon it was Nizhoni’s turn. She left the hogan and stood outside while everyone lined up to be molded by her. Fintan wasn’t sure whether he should join or not, but Bob urged him on, pushing him into the line near the back. He felt a little awkward as the other family members looked at him and smiled at his uneasiness.

  He watched as Nizhoni spent a lot of time with each person, rubbing her hands over their shoulders, their head, their face. It was beautiful to see her interact with them. Some of them spoke the Navajo language to her, and she answered in kind.

  “They are pointing out their ailments,” said Bob. “And she’s paying special attention to them so that the blessings that she has received are shared and they may be healed.”

  Finally it was Fintan’s turn. He blushed. A few of the family members laughed good-heartedly.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Nizhoni answered. “I know your heart. I have seen your dreams.” Her hands were on his arms pressing him hard. She moved up his shoulders to his neck and squeezed so hard that he gasped.

  “You have the seeds of greatness within you,” she said. “You will grow to be a wonderful man. I am blessed to share even a little time with you.”

  Tears were welling in Fintan’s eyes now. It was hard to see her.

  Her hands were on his head now, moving over his head, through his hair, pressing hard.

  “Don’t ever surrender your dreams, Fintan,” she said. “They are what make you special.”

  *

  After Nizhoni’s blessing, Fintan was stunned --her words and touch were so powerful. He needed a moment to catch his breath and clear the tears from his eyes.

  “There aren’t many people that my daughter would speak to like that,” said Mister Benally. “You both may be young, but I believe that you are wise beyond your years.”

  “There is a bond between them,” said Bob. “Something more than just friends or boy and girl. Something special.”

 
Fintan looked at both men. The tears returned to his eyes once more, this time running down his cheeks.

  Mister Benally crouched down beside him, looking him in the eye. “Whatever the pain,” he said. “You are part of our family now. You no longer have to be alone in your pain.”

  Fintan nodded.

  “Clear your tears my friend,” said Bob. “It’s almost time to run.”

  At that moment there was a scream, a blood curdling cry, and Nizhoni began running away from the hogan, eastwards. Everyone cried and ran with her, both young and old, but all followed her, none overtaking.

  Bob grabbed Fintan’s arm and pulled him along. Fintan, at first half running, and half being dragged by the giant man, shook himself free and followed her. It felt good to run.

  *

  Having finished the run, Mister Benally went into his house and returned with several shovels. He handed one to Bob, and another to Fintan.

  “Now,” he said. “We dig.”

  They spend some time digging in the hard ground. It might be desert, but it got cold in the winter and the ground was icy. Bob carved out a perimeter using the length of a shovel, and instructed Fintan to dig about as deep as his elbow.

  It was hard work, but it gave them a chance to talk as they dug. Nizhoni’s relatives looked approvingly as the sweat stains on Fintan’s shirt as he worked.

  “They like you,” said Bob.

  Then, out of the blue, Mister Benally said. “Did you know that my daughter was once abducted by aliens?”

  *

  Fintan was stunned. He knew from Nizhoni that the Navajo knew about the city, and figured that they knew about the aliens there, but, from the tone in Mister Benally’s voice it seemed that he didn’t know anything about them. He looked to Bob, but couldn’t read the older man’s gaze.

  “I can tell from the expression on your face,” said Mister Benally “that you know something about it.”

  “And so do you,” he said to Bob.

  Bob said nothing. Mister Benally looked back to Fintan.

  “I long suspected that your school is somehow connected with this. Why else would they take so many Navajo into it? “

  He looked long and hard into Fintan’s eyes. Fintan didn’t know what to say.

  “I’ll take your silence as guilt,” he said evenly.

  “No,” said Bob, putting his hand on his friends shoulder. “He didn’t know.”

  Mister Benally looked back to Bob.

  “I’m sorry,” said Bob “that I didn’t tell you sooner.”