A Kachina Dance (3 page)

“You mean I can go?”

“Yes, you’
ll come as my guest
.”

“O
h, how wonderful!
Thank you.
No
w please let me pay for dinner.
I know museum workers don’t get paid big bucks.”
That was a huge faux pas
.
I saw his face and I knew
I had hurt his pride
.

“That may be the way they do it in Manha
ttan but that’s not the way we
do it here.”

I
wish I c
ould have swallow
ed
my words.
He ta
k
es the check and heads
to the cashier without a
nothe
r word.
I muddle an apology which
prolong
s
a bad blunder
.
When
we reach
the
motel, I’m not
surprised when he re
mains on his bike.
I thank
h
im for a lovely evening and say
good night.
His parting w
ords a
re, “I’ll be here at 5:00
sharp.”

As I
ready myself for bed I realize I’m
more
eager to see Jay tomorrow than
to go
to the home dance
.
I put this up to my lack of a real love life.
I
go to sleep
convincing myself
he i
s just escorting
me to the
K
achina
dance
,
nothing more.
I dream of him
with his slight smile
riding
that red bike high up
in
to
the
craggy
mountains.
My sleep is shattered as the darkness turns to lilac dust, night is smudged into dawn and I lay awake waiting.

Chapter 2

Yeste
rday seemed
so
long ago as we ri
de
to the h
ome dance
and
,
though st
ill sleepy, I am
now
very
excited
.
Jay stops
the bike nea
r a line of parked cars and says we
have to climb th
e rest of the incline on foot.
From his saddlebags he ta
k
es
a thermo
s and a colorful
, woven
blanket. 

“I made some coffee because I knew we wouldn’t have time to stop for breakfast
if we wanted good seats.”
He gi
ve
s me the thermo
s and smiles
for the first time this morning.

“Wonderful.”

“I hope you like your coffee strong and black.”

“This morning I will.” I laugh
.

People are milling about in the shade greeting each other.
He ta
k
es
my hand
as we begi
n walking
up the st
eep,
rutted,
gravel
l
y
road.

I
t’s
t
he first time he touches
me.

His hand is warm and gentle and I smile.
I notic
e
people
nodding a
nd saying
something that sounds like
ha’u
to him as we pass
.
He simply nods.
Though not
tall, he has a presence about him that mak
e
s
him
appear
regale
.
His l
ean body looks
strong
and
fit in jeans and a tee shirt.
He
wears
his silky
blue
black
hair
rolled
in a knot,
Indian fashion.
I recognize from his
strong profile
that the Hopi blood line h
as
not been
broken.

A shy wind catches us as we
reach
the
sun-bleached
plaza
.
I can
see teenagers climbing
the hand-
hewn
wooden ladders to sit on
the
edge of the
mustard colored
adob
e
houses
.
Families
spread
folding cha
irs
and brightly colored blankets
in rows along the plaza’s edge
.
T
he excitement
begi
n
s
to crest
as more an
d more people fill
the tiny dirt plaza.

Jay says
,
“We can sit on a roof but it will be very hot or we can sit on the ledge of one of the houses which is my
personal
choice.” 

“The ledge that’s i
n the shade looks good to me.”
So we spread out the
colorful
blanket and pour
the coffee.
The
gaudy scent
of
frying
chili
peppers c
o
me
s
from inside the house
,
agitated by a breeze.
I feel the
sense of family and community
even though I am an outsider
.
I have a
grin on my face as I watch the
animated
expressions
of the
little
children.
I sip the black
coffee and have to smile again.
He i
s right, it’s very strong.

“Wow, this
coffee is sure to wake me up.”
I laugh.

“Are you always this happy?”

“Hmm, not usuall
y at this time of the morning.
I just can’t believe I’m actual
ly
here
and going to see a home dance.
You don’t know how l
ong I’ve thought about coming.”
I sto
p and give him a gentle nudge.
“And to think I have a genuine escort to interpret all this
…it is wonderful!
”

“You have a nice smile,” he
says and I feel the intensity of
his dark eyes.
My body is starting to wake up in many ways.

The sun
breaks
over the mountains when the faint beat of the drums
is heard.
The crowd gro
w
s
quiet.
Next co
me
s
the muffled chanting and
soft clatter
of rattles.
Jay
guides me
to the edge o
f the plaz
a to see the
K
achinas.
The
Mudheads
, who are dancing today,
walk
slowly from the pines with several
eagle feathe
rs
fluttering from
each of
their
huge
clay
heads
.
From where we stand the kiva isn’
t visible.
T
he chant
ing gro
w
s
louder and stron
ger and the drum
s
swell as each
Mudhead
appears
in the plaza.
G
oose bumps
cover my arms.
I am
actually watching an ancient
ceremony that has
gone on for centuries.
I
scarcely
breath
e as I try to memorize
the h
aunting beauty of the setting.
Ther
e are
about
15
dancers
.
They each have
a turtle shell tied to their ankle wi
th pebbles or beads that rattle
when
they move
.
As they walk
to the center of the plaza
to form a circle
, t
he
y
lift
and bend, chant and sway
,
parade
and
leap
to the rhythm of the drum
s
.  All of us are quiet,
hypnotized by the rhythm
.

How beautiful
ly
they move in the blazing light, the eagle feathers flying.
As though someone sleeps near
us, we scarcely mutter a sound
as the chanting deepens.
T
he sun’s heat strengthens
. The hours pass.
The
Mudhea
ds
follow the primal steps of
the ancient ones.
The singing, the drumming,
the rhythm
, the people…
we are all one now.
All hy
pnotized together as time proceeds
.

I turn slightly to look at Jay and see that he is mouthing some of the chant.  He catches my eye and smiles. I feel a shiver, he’s so d
arn disarming
. I must have given him a Cheshire grin because the next thing I know he has his arm around me. Oh yeah, my body is waking up!

The July
heat is a vicious heat.
A s
trangling heat.
A b
listering heat
.
Around noon
the dancers leave
the plaza to rest
. B
undles of corn stalks with gifts tied to them for
the local
families
suddenly appear
; to
the children a hand carved
K
achina
to remember their heritage
and to teach the story
of the
K
achina
is given
. 

The sun burns
down
.
Two
clown
s
,
dressed as
Hano
,
co
me to entertain, eating watermelon and spitting their seeds out to make the children laugh
.
Our little ledge,
now under
the sun
, i
s
sweltering
;
there is no mercy.
W
e
decide
to leave, making room for late comers
.

“I should have remembered to bring sun
screen,” I say
looking at my red arms.
“Sunburn or not, that was incredible. 
Thank you so much for making me a part of it
.
Will they dance all day?
”

“
Yes.
The women have been cooking all night so there
will be a lot of celebrating.
I’m glad you enjoyed it.
I haven’t
been to a home dance in years.
It was good for me to be here
,
too.” He gives me his
slight smile and takes my hand.
“The
K
achina
brings
harmony of good thought and deed, harmony for the earth.
The Hopi ceremonies are
for the
reverence
and peace
of the whole world
.
”

I give him a wide grin. “
Didn’t you say yesterday on your tour,
Hopi
meant ‘
The Peaceful People
’
?
”

“Hmm, ‘
Peaceful Little Ones
’
.”