Gardens in the Dunes (60 page)

Sister Salt did not pay much attention to the images after the belly-up
Fish; neither the Scales nor the silver white Lilies on their sides mattered after she saw the position of the Fish. Delena tried to reassure her: The message of the silver Lilies was exceedingly good—heavenly happiness hardly imaginable now, she said, smiling. Everything will turn out all right! But Sister didn't care if the dog circus woman said it was a good omen or not. The little black grandfather knew better; he wanted them to go away from there, partly because something was going to happen and partly because his father didn't believe he would live.

Sister Salt gathered up the baby and gently brushed the sand from his wrapping; then she stood up and shook the sand from her skirt. She had to get back; maybe Maytha and Vedna would be there and they could discuss the meaning of the belly-up Fish. At least the Gypsy cards had more confidence in the baby than Big Candy did—they made no mention of death.

Delena and her dogs walked with her partway; next time they'd ask the other deck of cards—the Mexican cards, which Delena used only for herself. Sister Salt nodded; she wanted to ask the cards about Indigo and Mama. Before Delena turned back, she asked Sister to tell Big Candy about her dog circus. She wanted permission to put on a performance there.

As the sounds of the camp became louder, the little grandfather woke and began to squirm. “I know, I know,” she whispered to him, “but there's nothing we can do now except move, and everyone is too busy to help us with the tent.” If Big Candy would only welcome his son, the baby might learn to tolerate the noise from his father's casino and brewery.

Sister Salt was delighted to see the twins were back, but what were they doing? Maytha and Vedna were outside their tent, both of them bent over, tying bundles. As soon as they saw her, they came running; before they even spoke they pressed close to see the baby.

“He's cute! He's not that tiny!”

“No! He looks strong!”

Sister Salt felt so much love for her friends at that moment as they put their faith in her baby's strength and health. That's what Big Candy didn't seem to understand—doubts weaken tiny babies. Think happily of the baby or stay away!

That Mojave woman was the one spreading the rumors the baby was too small to live; that woman was full of hate toward Sister Salt. The woman wanted to be rid of her and the twins to run the laundry as well as the brewery for Big Candy. She probably wanted Big Candy all to herself.

“She's a witch,” Vedna whispered. The twins didn't want to take any
chances with that woman, so they were packing up. Big Candy offered them more money if they'd stay, but their minds were made up. They were going to live on the little piece of land their old auntie sold them downriver from Needles; Sister Salt was welcome to come with them.

Maytha went around the back of the brewery tent and brought them a lard pail of beer to drink for their going-away party. It was just the three of them sitting outside the tent as the night began to cool off. All the beer they drank dimmed the noise of the shouting dice players and drunks at the tents nearby. Maytha got so drunk she started to dance around and she stumbled into Vedna and they both sprawled laughing on the ground near Sister Salt. She laughed with them and drank more beer, but she was bothered to learn about that Mojave woman's harmful intentions. She couldn't stop thinking about the Gypsy cards of the overturned Pig and the belly-up Fish. Although the baby in his bundle was safely in the corner of the tent, barricaded with old blankets, Sister Salt checked on him often in case their laughter woke him. He slept soundly with his little fists up beside either cheek, as if ready to defend himself.

They finished off the first pail of beer, and this time Vedna went for more because Maytha was so tipsy she'd spill it all before she got back. The twins passed the pail back and forth to Sister Salt and talked about their new life. They'd sure miss all the men who paid them for sex—they joked the Chemehuevi men were all married and the wives bitterly opposed their return.

“It's because our father wasn't Chemehuevi,” Vedna said, and Maytha nodded. But their old auntie sold them the land, so the others were stuck with them.

Sister Salt told them about the dog woman, Delena, and the Gypsy cards.

“See! I told you! The Gypsy cards know about that Mojave woman!” Maytha said, and Vedna nodded in agreement. Fish could swim upside down, then right themselves; maybe Sister Salt was the Fish. That's what Delena said too. Sister was beginning to see the good in the upside-down Fish, and she found herself feeling more lighthearted now, and reached for the pail of beer again.

The twins were more interested in the dog circus than the Gypsy cards. Damn! Maybe they should accept Big Candy's offer to work another week just so they could see the dog circus perform. Vedna drank more than Maytha but she didn't stagger and she never seemed drunk until she
brought out the Bible with all the pictures. All three of them avoided the traveling preachers and missionaries who shouted and scolded, but they liked to look at the strange pictures in the Bible. Vedna read the words sometimes, but Bible language was different from the English they spoke, and pretty soon she'd give up.

Vedna closed her eyes and turned the Bible around and around in her hands, then let the Bible fall open on her lap and let her finger drop on a page—that was how good Christians told fortunes.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she opened her eyes, and Sister Salt thought she must have got one of their favorites—the children in the fiery furnace or Daniel surrounded by lions. Maytha's favorite was Jonah as he was swallowed by the whale. The picture was crowded with human skeletons and corpses, a few in shrouds, by the light of a full moon peeping out of the clouds, as the prophet looked down on them. The dead looked anguished and tormented, especially the skeleton at the lower right corner of the page who groped for his lost skull. They burst into laughter, and Maytha said, “Oh-oh! It looks like that Mojave woman and her friends!” So they laughed even harder as Vedna began to read: “The hand of God was upon me and carried me out and set me down in a valley full of bones—”

“That's right!” Maytha interrupted. “We live in that valley!” Vedna frowned.

“Do you want me to read, or not?” Her tone was impatient and her eyes red from all the beer. She cleared her throat loudly and continued: “He caused me to walk all around them, and the bones were very dry. He asked me, ‘Can these bones live?' I answered, ‘God, you know.' And he said to me, ‘Prophesy concerning these bones and say to them, “Oh dry bones, hear the word of God!” ' Thus said God to these bones: ‘I will cause breath to enter into you and you shall live. I will lay sinews and bring flesh upon you and over you with skin.' ”

“Ugh!” Maytha pretended to be squeamish.

“Shut up!” Vedna commanded.

“She thinks she's preacher!” Maytha said just before Vedna tried to kick her.

“So I prophesied as God commanded me and there was a noise, then an earthquake, and the bones came together, each bone to its joint. I looked and the flesh and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. Then God said to me, ‘prophesy concerning the breath, say to the breath:
“Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain that they may live.” '

“So I prophesied as God commanded and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood up on their feet, an exceeding great army.” Vedna was about to close the book when Sister Salt asked to look; she plopped the open Bible in Sister's lap and took the beer pail from Maytha.

Here it was even in the Bible—everything Wovoka said was true. With winds from the four directions scouring the earth, their slain ancestors would rise up into armies. The twins shared the last of the beer and argued over whose turn it was to go for another pail. Sister Salt felt the headache beer always gave her; she gathered up the sleeping baby to go to her tent. What the dog woman said must be true—the Blessed Mother of the Indians said to defend themselves, and don't fear death.

Toward morning she heard Big Candy come into her tent and smelled the warm food he brought her, but he did not come kneel beside her to kiss her forehead until she woke, as he used to before the baby. This morning he set down the food and left. She listened to his footsteps recede and thought about going after him; but if he didn't want to be with them, then she didn't want to ask.

Sometimes those tiny babies lived for days, even weeks before they gave up the ghost; Big Candy's mother used to say that was the cruelest thing those little babies did—stay alive long enough to give you false hope, and then break your heart. Poor mothers! Sometimes they held on to those babies for days after they died—one young mother even forced her nipple into the cold little mouth. The prospect of all that sadness and loss for a young girl who had already lost all her family made him feel exhausted and discouraged. It didn't help that Wylie had a telegram from Washington that gave the military jurisdiction over access to the construction site in thirty days.

Big Candy tossed and turned without sleep; he knew he should be with Sister to comfort her, but she resented what he knew as inevitable. Better to let her have this time with her baby undisturbed. He lay thinking about the future and what they would do. Once the campsite was opened up to competitors, Wylie and he knew they'd see a big drop in their receipts; luckily they'd made hay while the sun shined, and he and Wylie were set. From here they each had enough to go anywhere and retire. He drifted in and out of sleep, aware of the shouts and occasional gunshots and laughter. He dreamed an elegant dining room in a fine hotel—out the windows all around were high mountains covered with snow. Wylie sat at the head of
the table with men in military uniforms. They drank red wine from crystal goblets but no food had been served. In the kitchen Candy found a tiny black child wearing only a diaper by the stove, where it played with a black dog. The child was no larger than a baby but it could walk, and it smiled at him with a full set of teeth as it climbed on and over the dog's back with strange agility. When he lifted the lids on the pots and on the roasting pans in the oven, all the food was gone, and only scraps, skin and bones, remained in the grease.

Even after he woke and struck a match to see the face of his pocket watch, Candy still felt agitated by the dream. He had to get more sleep or he'd feel weak and sick all day. He reached for the bottle of good bourbon he kept for medicinal purposes and took three big mouthfuls. The warmth of the spirits radiated out from his stomach over his entire body and one by one he felt his muscles relax until he felt himself drift weightlessly. He dreamed a small coffin partially uncovered, pushing up through the earth in a big military cemetery of identical white crosses. What was a baby's coffin doing there? As he got closer he saw that the small coffin oddly resembled a floor safe. He woke with a start, his heart pounding. Had he reburied the floor safe deeply enough? Had he brushed over the disturbed sand and disguised the area under the tree well enough? He had been in a hurry and it was difficult to see by lantern in the dark. He'd have to check it later. The dream must refer to the baby's death, though it had already survived longer than he thought it would. Sister's baby was too small to live—even the Mojave women who tended the beer agreed about that.

Wylie complained he hadn't slept well either. It was no wonder, with the soldiers bivouacked above the workers' camp and more wagons arriving from Yuma and Prescott, even from Phoenix, in anticipation of the shift in authority over the construction site. Candy put the coffee on to boil first, then stirred the eggs into the batter and cut the bacon while Wylie sat in his long underwear at the table. Cigarette butts and spent matches filled a saucer next to an empty brandy bottle.

They'd made their stakes in the nick of time; these next few weeks they could coast along and still make plenty of money until all the others set up gambling tents and started to sell beer and barbecue. This was a good time to retire from federal projects anyway; Wylie's political connections in Washington had been weakened by the scandal that followed the Panic of 1893.

Next year at this time they'd be retired and settled into their new lives—Wylie avoided mention of California or Denver because he still
hoped to persuade Big Candy to settle on the West Coast with him. Wylie smiled to himself. He knew how to win over his friend—it was with the abundance of fresh seafoods not available before for Big Candy to prepare and serve. Wylie knew the fresh abalone steaks and butter clams were the way to Candy's heart.

♦   ♦   ♦

At dawn Delena lit a fire to boil the water for coffee, then settled back to watch the pups. They woke up one after the other, and they yawned in unison. When they crowded around her, they leaped up at the same instant. They easily learned to run one after the other over barriers and kept their balance on narrow planks. When excited, they easily stood on their hind legs, so it didn't take long to teach them to dance. She watched them tug and pull one another with a piece of old rope one of the dogs found; three pups tugged on each end and they whirled and spun around one another effortlessly.

The crippled mother dog stayed by her side, out of their way, because from time to time the pups fought over the rope. Their snarls and growls sounded terrifying; clouds of dust flew all around the knot of biting dogs as they tumbled over and over.

The first few times they fought one another like that, she feared a dog or two might be injured or killed. But when they finally stopped, the two dogs on the bottom of the heap emerged with nothing worse than bloody torn ears and dog saliva and dirt caked on their fur.

Later, with a tin cup of black coffee in one hand, she brought out the deck of Mexican cards. On the scraps of satin remnants she laid out the cards in the formation of the cross and the lance, then studied the figures and the
dichos
, or sayings, that belonged to each card.