Magpie Speaks

by R. Allen Chappell

  Paul did not immediately answer and seemed lost in thoughts buried in another time. His daughter had twice made the long trip to Gallup to try some sort of reconciliation, or to at least reason with the girl in regard to getting help. Nothing had come of it, and the white man Alice lived with at the time ordered Lucy Tallwoman away and said she was the cause of the girl’s problems.

  So these were the burdens the family had to bear, Paul thought––Thomas’s drinking and outlandish behavior; Lucy Tallwoman’s folly at boarding school; then her daughter’s ensuing mental affliction. All eventually coming together in a perfect storm of social indignation––the stories flew from clan to clan growing in the way bad stories will. Finally the family was left virtually bereft of friends or communal support. Only a few people had stood by them then, chief among them Charlie Yazzie, who, fresh from law school, paid little attention to traditional mores. And, of course, there was Harley Ponyboy, but he was hardly better off than Thomas at the time.

  Paul did have to admit that, over the years, things had settled into some semblance of normality. People do tend to forget even bad things, given enough time. Still Paul T’Sosi grew cautious now and was thinking his granddaughter’s sudden return might stir old fires and again cast the little family back into that cauldron of resentment.

  ~~~~~~

  Lucy Tallwoman pulled into the shade beside the brush arbor and sat watching her stepchildren ease the sheep down off the hogback toward the corrals. The dog as usual did most of the work, leaving the children to scurry along behind, barely able to keep up. She had taken much longer than she had allowed, had in fact, gone all the way to Farmington.

  Good dog! she thought as she watched it bring in the flock. She smiled when the boy’s sister helped him over a rock outcrop. They were good kids and smart, too.

  Lucy knew it was only a matter of time before her father could no longer tend the stock. Then it would fall to the rest of them to take up the slack. She wondered where Paul was. Ordinarily he would have been standing at the corrals making sure every animal was accounted for. The sheep crowded their way into the pen through a haze of powdered manure. Lucy relaxed there in the truck, watching through the green-tinged dust as the children brought up the stragglers. The dog knew who the troublemakers were and made sure they didn’t turn back at the gate and cause a wreck.

  Down in the flats, below the hogan the only horse the family still owned trotted to the end of his stakeout rope and whickered at the children again and again. This was Thomas’s horse and had cost him a full month’s wages. It had taken some time to pay off. He made certain it was well tended.

  When the sheep were secured and the youngsters on their way up to the hogan, Lucy stood at the front of the truck and told them what a good job they had done that day.

  Ida Marie was quite proud of their first time alone with the sheep. She thought they had done everything as well as anyone could. She praised her younger brother and said he would someday make a better herder than she. When the three of them were nearly to the hogan it was eight-year-old Caleb Begay who called attention to the thin trail of smoke rising from the fire pit in front of the sweat lodge. The door to the hut was covered, and obviously someone was inside. It took Lucy Tallwoman a few minutes to decide if she should interrupt a cleansing. Finally she gently plucked at the blanket and called in Navajo, “Shizhé’é… shizhé’é, are you in there? Supper will be ready soon! Da dichin’ ninizen––are you hungry?”

  There was no immediate answer, but when one came it was not her father at all, but rather the weak and tired voice of Harley Ponyboy. “Thank you for the offer, but I cannot eat before I finish this sweat… or I might never eat again.”

  Surprised, Lucy stood back from the sweat lodge. “Where is my father… do you know?”

  There was a moan from behind the door and then, “He is with Alice––he had to help her.”

  “Alice!” Lucy leaned forward and shook the blanket. “My daughter is here?” She thought for a moment she might pass out. “When was she here?” and then, “Where have they gone?”

  For a long time there was no answer, and then Harley lifted the corner of the blanket and peeked out. “Could you hand me my clothes?”

  Lucy grabbed the clothes from the pile of firewood beside the hut and passed them through the flap, then turned away wringing her hands.

  When Harley next appeared in the doorway, it was with red and watering eyes. He had to steady himself against the frame of the sweat lodge. The heavy fragrance of sage wafted after him and it took him a moment to accustom himself to the light.

  “I only know what Alice said. She thought she might need a family member to sign some papers… a release or something, she said. The old man was the only one here.” Harley felt sick, thought he might again throw up, and moved toward the little arroyo across from the hogan.

  “What kind of release would Alice need signed… and for what?” Lucy’s voice rose above the retching, watching as Harley’s stomach rebelled in the futile effort to rid itself of the alcohol.

  Harley turned wiping his mouth on his sleeve and tilted his head slightly to relieve the pounding. “She has a tumor. Her doctor in Gallup said he thought it was too late ta do anything about it, but he told her there was a another doctor in Farmington who specialized in that sort of thing and that maybe she should see him. She is here to see that doctor… and that is all I know.” Harley leaned over, hands on knees, and waited for the next wave of nausea.

  Lucy stood for a moment, mind seething with emotions she hadn’t had in a very long time. Alice had returned after all these years… and for this?

  ~~~~~~

  When Thomas returned home after dropping Charlie off, the first thing he saw was Harley Ponyboy hanging on the top rail of the corral, trying to direct the children as they did their best to corner a young goat. It wasn’t a very big goat but was fast and determined not to be caught.

  Thomas sidled up beside him and watched over the fence. There was a cloud of dust rising from that corner of the corral. “How long have they been chasing that goat?”

  Harley didn’t look around. “Oh, about twenty minutes, I guess. That’s a really smart goat.” He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand and narrowed his eyes at the goat. “I’d a got in there and helped them with it but I been sick.”

  “So I’ve heard… it gotcha again, huh?”

  It wasn’t really a question and Harley Ponyboy didn’t confuse it with one. He avoided looking at Thomas when he asked in a whisper, “You got anything hid out around here? I need a drink.”

  Thomas smiled. “If I’d had anything hid out around here, I’d probably already drank it myself––which is why I don’t keep anything hid out.”

  The two men fell silent for a few minutes, watching as Caleb and Ida Marie almost caught the goat a time or two.

  Thomas chuckled. “Did you ever think about trying to rope that goat… it’s not that big.”

  Harley turned to him and snapped, “There’s very few people that can rope a damn goat. That’s why they have goat-ropings at rodeos… to see if anyone can do it.”

  Thomas smiled at this and shook his head but didn’t say anything.

  Harley wasn’t through. “Well, if you don’t have anything ta drink, how about giving me a ride inta town, where I can get something… you know, just till I can get myself back together.” He knew this probably wasn’t going to happen, but felt he owed it to himself to try.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one thing, Harley, it’s Sunday, and there’s nothing open that sells liquor.”

  “Well then, how about dropping me off at Bad Johnny’s?”

  Thomas wiped a hand across his face and gave the little man a hard look. “ Me and Charlie was already out to Johnny’s place this morning––looking for you––and damn near got cut for our trouble. Not to mention Johnny throwing down on us with a shotgun.” Thomas climbed up a rail to better follow the dusty actio
n in the corral. He wouldn’t be surprised if his kids kept after that goat till they dropped. Navajo are stubborn when it comes to catching things. In olden times his people, on foot and in relays, might run down a wild horse; it could take several days, and sometimes wound up leaving the horse wind-broke and ruined.

  Harley persisted, “Okay then, how about taking me over ta see Charlie Yazzie… at least I’ve got one friend left.”

  “No you don’t. After we damn near got killed this morning Charlie said he didn’t care if he never saw you again.” Thomas was lying about this and Harley knew it. Charlie Yazzie didn’t take up with just anyone, and when he did, he was behind them come Hell or high water. Navajo make loyal friends… and dedicated enemies. Everyone knew that.

  “What you better do,” Thomas stabbed his finger at the ground several times to emphasize his point, “is stay right here and sober up.”

  When Harley didn’t say anything, Thomas took it as a sign he was paying attention, so he brightened, and went on. “Did you know George Custer is going to be up from Albuquerque this week?”

  “Now how in the Hell would I know that? I don’t even know what day it is.” Harley suspected Thomas might be lying again.

  “Well he is gonna be here, and he told Charlie he might give me and you a job in his new business too. Course, I doubt he’s going to give a job to a drunk.” Thomas paused and thought about it. “Unless he’s back to drinking himself… then I guess you’re a shoo-in.”

  Harley gave him a surly glance. “Just ‘cause I’m drunk right now don’t make me a drunk.” He didn’t stop to elaborate… just blundered on, “What kind of job is it anyway?”

  Thomas snorted, “We’re not brain surgeons Harley… I expect it’s what we do best… dig ditches, just like we did the last time we worked for him.”

  Harley squinted off into the distance for a moment and considered the possibilities. He liked the Little General and thought if he had to dig ditches it might as well be for someone he liked.

  Thomas looked away from the goat chase for a moment and finally realized Lucy’s truck was gone. “Where’s Lucy?”

  Harley looked surprised, but mostly at his failure to bring this up earlier. “Uh… well… Lucy went into town ta find Alice. Paul T’Sosi went ta town with her this morning, at least I guess that’s what happened. I been a little busy throwing up.”

  It took a moment for this to sink in, but when it finally registered, Harley was afraid Thomas might fall off the fence. “I guess I shoulda told you right off… I don’ know what I was thinkin’.”

  “Alice was right here in camp?” Thomas couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t even heard the name in over a year. They had done all they could about Alice and finally just didn’t mention her anymore. Thomas was visibly shaken and took a moment to gather his wits.

  Harley took up the slack by saying, “I ran into her in town early this morning, and we was just driving around most of the day. She really didn’t want ta come out here, and I was still too drunk ta know what ta do… so we just drove around.”

  “So she was who you were with at Johnny Deboe’s?”

  “I guess… I really don’ remember where all I was.” Harley then went on to tell why Alice was there, and how serious the thing was. “That doctor in Gallup told her straight up she probably didn’t have much time left––only a few weeks maybe.” He lowered an eyelid at Thomas. “She acts like she’s drunk part of the time, but she swears she’s not. She didn’t have nothin’ ta drink while I was with her, at least not that I saw.” Harley was again looking sick himself but his mind was beginning to clear. “That’s why Lucy told the kids ta catch that goat before she left. She said she’d cook some of it when she got back. I guess it was Alice’s favorite when she was little.” Harley had just about talked himself out at this point and looked back at the children. He couldn’t even imagine what Thomas must be thinking.

  ~~~~~~

  Lucy Tallwoman pulled up in front of the oncology offices too late. The parking lot was nearly deserted; they were already closed. Paul T’Sosi was sitting on a little bench outside the entrance and had obviously been there awhile. His head had fallen forward and she could hear him snoring even before she put a hand on his shoulder. When the old man’s eyelids fluttered, she gently nudged him. “Where is she?”

  It took a while for Paul to come awake, and when he did he looked around as though he still might be unsure of where he was. He focused on his daughter with tears in his eyes, something she had not seen since her mother died. His voice was unsteady as he began telling her about the last few hours. She could tell the words didn’t come easy as he fell into Navajo, as he often did when upset. “Alice’s doctor in Gallup called ahead so she would be allowed to see this new man right away. She brought copies of all her tests and paperwork from before, and this new doctor took a good amount of time going over them with her. He seemed a fine man, not from around here… some other country I think, but he was a good person and let me stay in the office till almost the end, when he asked me to wait outside.” Paul reflected on this before going on. “That was fine with me; I could tell there was something he needed to tell her in private.”

  Paul spoke softly now and chose his words with care, as though he needed to get it straight in his mind. “When she came out, she went right past me without saying a word, and I thought she was maybe just going for a drink of water, or to the bathroom and thought nothing of it. She never came back. That doctor’s office must have another entrance too, he never came out again neither.” Here the old man paused and reflected. “I stayed, waiting, not knowing what else to do…when finally a man… I guess he was the janitor… came to lock up the building and said I would have to go outside, so I did and here I am.” The old man looked at his daughter for some sign he had done the right thing. “I thought after I rested up a little I would go out to the highway and try to catch a ride home… I knew you would be looking for me sooner or later and thought you might be more likely to find me beside the highway.”

  The old man paused and grew pensive. “Just before you came a magpie flew into that tall tree there by the walkway… I don’t even know what kind of a tree that is… it’s not a tree from around here. Someone planted it there, I guess. The magpie seemed satisfied with it though, and flew right down to a lower branch and began to chatter at me.” Paul seemed lost for a moment. “There used to be a lot of magpies right down there by the river,” he said looking toward the silver thread of the San Juan barely visible in the distance. “When the young ones are about ready to leave the nest you can throw a stick at them and they jump off the tree not knowing how to fly. They learn pretty quick though. But they can go only a short distance. If you keep after them they eventually run out of wind, and you can catch them on the ground pretty easy then. That is how we kids would catch the young ones and keep them for a while. The old people didn’t like it when we did that and would make us turn them loose.”

  Paul looked toward the river and his eyes were misty. “Anyhow, this magpie today began to talk at me and I thought for a minute I could understand what he was saying. It was a long time since I’d heard that kind of talk, and I had to pay attention to make it out… you know, what he was saying and all.” Paul had grown stiff sitting there on the bench and had trouble getting up. He glanced up at his daughter and hoped she hadn’t noticed. “This is the second time Aa’a’ii has paid me a visit of late. I first thought, maybe he’s just mad that I caught his relatives so long ago. But no, that wasn’t it at all. He told me something altogether different, and now I know what must be done.”

  Lucy looked at her father. “Maybe you were just dreaming it shi-chai.” She, too, now wondered if her father’s mind was beginning to fail.

  Their truck was the only vehicle in the parking lot, and Paul went directly to it, not daring to look back.

  Neither had any idea where to look for Alice, and after some discussion could only agree it would be best to go home and wait for word. On the
ir way through Shiprock Lucy said, “Maybe so, in the morning, I will go see Charlie Yazzie.” She felt the Legal Services investigator might have some sense of where they should turn next.

  Paul T’Sosi remained silent but knew exactly what must be done––Aa’a’ii had told him––it would require help from a most unlikely source.

  ~~~~~~

  It was after dark when Harley peered out the hogan’s one window. “Looks like they’re back; there’s a truck coming.” Both children looked up from their books, then at their father, who had been sitting beside the woodstove lost in thought. It was a moment before Thomas finally looked up and saw the yellow glow of truck lights on the windowpane. If it was a truck, then it wasn’t Alice. He dreaded seeing the woman again, even after all these years and was glad to see it wasn’t her.

  When Lucy and her father came through the door everyone fell silent. It was plain from their faces the news wasn’t good. Lucy told them all they had learned in Farmington, leaving out nothing, making sure everyone knew exactly how things were, and how little they had been able to do about it. She then went directly to their new propane refrigerator and began putting sandwich fixings on the table. It was late and she was in no mood to cook. When Harley moved to help her, she waved him away and pointed him to a chair at the table, where he sat quietly, not sure what else to do.

  Thomas still sat grim faced, obviously thinking of other things. Paul T’Sosi moved to look over his grandchildren’s shoulders and made some small comment on their studies, then tousled their hair.

  It was a somber meal, and when Paul and Harley prepared to leave for a chilly night in the summer hogan Lucy insisted they take along extra blankets. She went on to say she would probably leave early for Shiprock, as she wanted to be at Charlie’s office when it opened. Lucy now pinned all her hopes on the tribal investigator and was sure he might somehow be able to help them. Word travels fast on the reservation––there might be someone who already knew the whereabouts of her daughter. Charlie Yazzie knew a lot of people.