Defiant Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  She recalled Matu’s look at her that day she had returned. She had guessed right, for Matu had held her fate in her hands. Was this what she had felt in the air that day? Was this why she was here now? Is this why they were “friends” now?

  I am Shalee? An Indian? My parents are not my parents? I am from this savage land ... that old chief is my real father? Jenny, a woman I have never seen or known, my mother? His daughter ... my people ... that mark ... Mato Waditaka, my brother? No, my ... what?

  Alisha’s mind reeled and fought the turmoil of knowing all she had ever loved and known had been trickery and deceit. To be told she was not even herself, that she was in truth this Shalee ... not no! no! her brain and heart screamed in unison.

  She looked at Powchutu and shouted so loudly the men outside could hear her voice, but only one of them knew her words. “Liar! Why do you, who calls himself my friend, come here with that man and betray me like this? What did he give you to make you turn on me this way? Why, Powchutu? Why? Are you now Indian and my enemy also? Don’t touch me! Don’t speak your hateful lies to me again! It isn’t true. Lies, all of it, lies!”

  With that, she began to cry bitterly, releasing all the pent-up hate, fury, hurt and betrayal which had filled her heart for so long. He let her cry for a long time. She had paled and trembled so, he had thought at first she was going to faint at this news.

  He knew how difficult it must be to hear your whole life was nothing but lies and illusions. To hear nothing was true, or was as it was believed to be, or no one was who they should be. He had just shattered all her beliefs about herself and those she had loved all her life. Her words and accusations about him hurt and cut him deeply, but he knew she would soon know he was her true friend and spoke only the truth to her.

  As her sobbing slowed and his words sank in and took hold in her mind, she said, “I am not his daughter. I am not his Shalee. I was not born here. My parents did not lie to me or deceive me. You are wrong. All of you are very wrong. I will not be used this way. I will not take the place of someone else. I am Atisha! Alisha, do you hear?”

  She challenged him with her words to prove his. She tried to ignore the hurt and pain in Powchutu’s face. He deserves it for trying to hurt and use me this way, she raged.

  Powchutu said very slowly, “I am truly sorry if my words have hurt you, Alisha. I only know what they have told me. They say the mark is there. He says he is your father. I will show you the mark and let you judge the truth of their words.”

  She studied his face, so full of hurt, and weakened. “They are wrong, Powchutu. They have lied to you. It is only a trick. They are trying to use me in some cruel game. Help me, Powchutu. Help me! I have no one if you turn from me,” she cried in anguish.

  He pulled her into his arms and let her cry again. He spoke encouraging words to her to calm her. “Alisha, take the looking glass and see if the mark is there for yourself. Then, if it is, we will decide what to do.”

  She looked up at him and nodded agreement to his logical suggestion. He asked the chief for a mirror, then handed it to her. She hesitantly accepted it with a trembling hand, suddenly afraid of what she might find. Why would they try to bluff her with something she could easily disprove?

  The two men turned away as she lifted the hem of her dress and put the mirror near her left buttock. What she saw could change her entire life. Did she dare look? Did she want to find the truth? Her eyes went to the reflection in the small, oval mirror, freezing there ...

  Her vision blurred before her and her thoughts crashed upon her mind like storm-driven waves upon a sandy beach. It cannot be ... it’s impossible.... She lightly touched the little half moon, then the two, smaller stars etched there for all time. She tore her eyes from the mark as full comprehension filled her. All he said was true ... me, Shalee? Me, an Indian? All the events and actions of the past few days fell into place, finishing the puzzle. The akito had been the missing piece to make all the others fit to complete the picture.

  This is why I am here! This is why they have treated me like this. This is why Mato Waditaka has not taken me and used me as his slave and whore. Other realities settled in, too. This is why I had to leave Wanmdi Hota’s camp! Now, I understand why he was so angry, he lost his trophy of war! They forced him to give up the chief’s daughter so they could bring her home! But, Mato Waditaka’s treatment to her had been anything but brotherly!

  “Powchutu was saying at that moment, Wanmdi Hota did not sell or trade you to them, Alisha. He was forced to return you to your father. He was shown the proof of the akitos. You are free here, Shalee. No one will ever hurt you again. This was what I came to tell you. You will be accepted and loved here. You will be happy. These are your people, not your ene-. mies. This is your father, Chief Black Cloud.”

  Black Cloud.... She remembered her dream when clouds rained on mighty eagles.... Would she really be free? Accepted? Happy? Her people and her father? Each bit of knowledge fought to be first to fill her mind, to be understood, to be accepted. Still, it all seemed crazy and wild. She stared off into space and spoke mostly to herself to clear her thoughts, “I have lived a lie all my life? They were not my real parents? This Jenny Pilcher and Mahpiya Sapa are? I wonder if Uncle Thad knew the truth. If he did, then why did he bring me back here? Was he trying to return me to my people? Did he think I would be safe from them? Did he die before he had a chance to tell me who I am? This is too much to grasp and understand so suddenly. The chief, my father.... How this truth could have changed my whole life here, Powchutu, if only we had known sooner ...”

  She questioned Powchutu, “Is this why I have been treated so kindly here and accepted by these people? You say I am free, an Indian, not a slave or captive. This is so much to absorb out of the blue, Powchutu. That day they came for me, was terrible. I have never felt such hurt and shame. Why didn’t they tell me at the tattooing ceremony, or show me the marks then?”

  He related her questions to the chief, then his answer back to her. “He says you were in great fear and did not trust them. They wished to give you a few more days to see and learn you were safe and accepted here.”

  “But, if all you say is true, then I am also a hanke-wa wasichun like you. Why do they not hate me as they do others like us?”

  He retored hotly, “Nol You are the daughter of a chief. It matters not if you are of mixed blood as I am.”

  Alisha did not feel this should make a difference in her treatment and his, but did not say so. Alisha stared at Powchutu and asked her most feared question, “Why is he here? Why didn’t he just send you? Why did he come with you? Why should he care whether I know the truth or not? Does he wish to get on the good side of the chief’s daughter now? Does he come to beg forgiveness for his cruelty to me? I hope not, for I shall not give it, ever! Or maybe, he comes to beg forgiveness from my father for the abuse of his only daughter. Who cares now?”

  Powchutu did not wish to answer her last few questions. He looked away as he continued, “You are to join with Mato Waditaka on the full moon tomorrow night.”

  “Join?” she queried innocently in confusion, then remembered the meaning of that word from another talk long ago at the fort. “You mean marry him?” she asked incredulously. Powchutu nodded yes. She asked again, “But why is Wanmdi Hota here?”

  Powchutu stated flatly, “He demands that you are joined with him, thus joining the two tribes. He is very angry at their taking you from him by force!”

  She flared in disbelief, “He demands what! Never! He only wishes to marry me to prevent my joining with Mato Waditaka and finding happiness here. He does not want me to be happy or free. He wants to keep me as his slave and under his thumb of cruelty.”

  She recalled the expression on his face and in his eyes in the meadow this morning when he discovered her kissing Mato Waditaka. “He thinks he still owns me, but he does not and never will again!” For the first time in months, she felt anger and resentment instead of fear, and the freedom to express it. “Wh
at do they say about his bold and daring demand?”

  “Mahpiya Sapa has said no. He said it was decided that you join with his chosen son Mato Waditaka and live here with your people. He would not hear his words or demands. He is greatly angered and ashamed of the cruelty he inflicted upon you. Wanmdi Hota has no claim on you any longer, but he does not see or think this way. He says you belonged to him first, and still do. He says he will not be forced to give you up. The chief is happy to have found you again. He says it was the will of Napi to return you to him in his winter years. He says he wants you to know peace and happiness here with him.”

  She looked at the kindly, old chief and tried to think of him as her father. He had been gentle with her. He had accepted her without question of her white upbringing and appearance. How can I possibly turn my back and heart on him if he is truly my father? How can I hurt him like that? If he believes I am his daughter and I have been divinely returned to him, how can I break his old heart and spirit by refusing to accept it? The akito is there. I cannot deny its presence. Whether it is true or not, they all accept and believe it. If I also accept it, then I can live in peace. But the question is, can I accept it and believe it? My heart says yes, but my mind says no, that it is only a lie and illusion. What if this new illusion were suddenly shattered?

  I could live here as his beloved daughter and wife to Mato Waditaka. Dare I go along with it? Dare I not to? Common sense told her it would be foolish not to take advantage of this quirk of fate. She had been given the opportunity to become one of them and no longer a captive. Could she say no to the chance of her lifetime? Could she give up the chance of becoming Mato Waditaka’s wife instead of Gray Eagle’s slave and whore? No, no, no, came the answer from her heart and mind.

  She fought to ignore his words about her marrying Gray Eagle. That would be impossible for more than one reason. She said to Powchutu, “Accepted ... I still cannot seem to stop thinking about that. It was so strange, always waiting for the storm to follow the lull, to wake up and find it had all been some cruel joke. This explains Mato Waditaka’s treatment to me. Is he really going to marry me after all Wanmdi Hota has done? I was certain he desired me, but could not understand why he did not take me. He waits to join with me? But is it me or Shalee that he wants? How will I ever know or be sure? Who can I really believe, Powchutu?” She covered her face with her hands.

  Powchutu pulled her hands away and looked into her lucid eye and replied, “Me, Shalee. You can trust and believe in me. I will always be here for you when you need me. I believe you can find your happiness, maybe even love, here with your people and with Mato Waditaka. Accept what I have told you and free your life and heart of Wanmdi Hota once and for all.” Powchutu knew he must also accept this news which would alter all his plans and dreams. How could he ever hope to escape with a chief’s daughter? If he must give her up, then it would be to Mato Waditaka, not Wanmdi Hota ...

  She smiled and said, “For once, the mighty eagle was powerless and helpless. I wonder how he felt to be caught on the wrong side of power for a change. How it must have infuriated him to be forced to give up his property to another! No wonder he was so furious this morning. It is a matter of his damnable pride and honor again. Besides, he still has Chela. I don’t see why he would want me, his old slave and witkowin, not to mention being a hanke-wa wasichun. He hates me and always has. Does my being half Indian suddenly reverse his feelings for me? I think not! This time, I will be free of him and his hold on me. I have allowed him to hurt me for the last time, Powchutu. He would never accept me fully. In fact, he would probably make things worse for me after this humiliation I have caused him.”

  They talked on and on for a long time until all her fear, doubts and questions were fully explained. When she was sure she knew everything there was to know about her situation, she asked Powchutu, “What now?”

  “Will you accept all you have been told as truth? Will you accept your life here as Shalee?”

  She thought on his words carefully before answering him. She asked herself what harm it would do to become this Shalee everyone wished her to be. Somehow from the deep, hidden recesses of her brain the warning came, it is a farce, Alisha, but you must go along with it. Gnawing doubts would not allow her to accept what she had been told and shown. Why, she did not know.

  If I must live here in this savage land, then it will be as Shalee, beloved daughter and wife, not as Alisha, hated wasichun and slave. She trembled at the reality of giving up herself to become another girl, possibly a dead girl.

  Her decision made, she answered him, “Tell Mahpiya Sapa I will accept my place and life here as Shalee and him as my father.”

  She silently prayed, forgive me, father, but I must do this thing for my welfare in this land. You taught me to do what was best in a situation. This one demands for Lese to be put to rest with you and mama, and for Shalee to return from the past. But in my heart, you will always be my true father.

  Powchutu had given the chief her answers. He came to her and embraced her. He smiled and called her, “Cunwintku.”

  She returned his friendly, loving smile and replied, “Father ... A’ta ...”

  She asked Powchutu to give her new father another message, “Tell him I was raised by the wasichu and do not hate them as they do. Tell him I will neither watch nor accept the torture of captives. Tell him I do not hate the Si-ha Sapa or the other Indians and never have. I only dislike those peoples from both sides who have tried to hurt and use me. Not all whites or Indians are alike. There are good and bad men on both sides. Tell him I feel no dishonor for either of my parents or their different bloods. Tell him I am Shalee, daughter of Mahpiya Sapa and Jenny Pilcher, and I will be proud of this.”

  Powchutu translated her words to him and he stared at her in astonishment and pride. “Tell my daughter she is indeed wise for one so young. Tell her, her words please me and it shall be as she says. It is good, my daughter.”

  Powchutu told Alisha all the chief had said and she smiled and replied, “It is good, my father.”

  With everything settled, Powchutu and the chief sighed with relief. “We will go and tell the others of our decisions.”

  Alisha tried to forget the implications of this whole thing about her possible relationship with Gray Eagle. This news changed her thoughts and feelings about what she had believed he had done to her that day in his camp. She could not suppress the memories of how things were going between them before Chela had tried to kill her. She knew he had not punished her that night. He had left to deal with his anger. Would he have punished her that next day if they had not come for her? She would never know now, for she could not risk losing what she had found here.

  She knew he had had nothing to do with this change in her life. He had not sold her or betrayed her. Would things have gone on in truce between them if it hadn’t been for Chela and her father? Would he have forgiven her violent outburst? Would he have continued to treat her with passion and desire, perhaps more? Did she even dare to think of such ideas now? No, for she now truly belonged to Mato Waditaka and would marry him tomorrow night.

  I know how he will treat me as his wife, but I do not know what would happen between Wanmdi Hota and me. Would my love be enough for our happiness? Would it be enough to wipe out all the hate and hurt between us? I fear the love of one person is not strong enough to withstand such evil forces. I shall marry Mato Waditaka as I have been told, but it will be Wanmdi Hota that I shall always love.

  As they lifted the flap to go outside, Gray Eagle involuntarily flinched at her last statement to Powchutu. In somber mockery, she said, “Long live Shalee, and may Alisha rest in peace....” She gazed up at Powchutu and finished, “If this is what they want and demand for my peace and happiness, then so be it. As you said, Powchutu, I really have no choice, do I? Besides, Alisha died many days ago when a little, white bird left her heart.”

  Powchutu looked confused at her statement, but did not ask her to explain for the pain in her eyes sto
pped him. But Gray Eagle heard and knew the meaning of her words. He was alarmed at her defeated attitude.

  Powchutu curiously watched Gray Eagle’s expression as Black Cloud told them she had accepted him as her father and the Si-ha Sapa as her people. He then said she willingly agreed to accept his son Mato Waditaka in joining, who eagerly stepped forward and smiled down at her. He placed his arm around her waist possessively. His victorious face met Gray Eagle’s, which was a mask of livid rage and fury.

  Gray Eagle stepped before her for one last chance to win her back without bloodshed. Taking her chin firmly in his hand, he forced her to look at him. She had seen his great anger and rage many times, but never like this! There was something else there, too, but she could not understand it. He compelled her eyes to his by the sheer force of his will. His burned like two black coals in a fire, making her blood burn in her veins. His eyes flashed defiance and revenge ...

  He spoke through clenched teeth as the muscles in his jawline tightened and twitched. Confused by his fierce reactions, she asked Powchutu, “What did they say to make him so angry?”

  He knew what had done it and hastily replied, “That you would willingly marry Mato Waditaka, that you chose him.”

  Her trembting chin was still imprisoned by his hand, only her eyes could move. They quickly riveted to the scout in surprise. “But that is not what I said! I only agreed because my father told me I must join Mato Waditaka and live here with him and my people. My father said no to Wanmdi Hota’s demands and would not listen to them. You said so! I was not given a choice between them. Does he think I was? Why is he looking at me with such anger and spite? I am still a captive and I have no say in any of these matters.”

  Knowing Wanmdi Hota might understand some of her words, if not all of them, and hoping she would repeat her rejection of his love once and for all, he tested Wanmdi Hota’s truth and challenged her, “If you could choose between them, Shalee, which warrior would you take?”