Gardens in the Dunes (72 page)

In downtown courtyards and along the Rio Grande, the leaves of the cottonwood trees went from greenish yellow to pale yellow and finally to a golden yellow in the weeks Hattie was there. One morning she woke to see snow on the tops of the mountains but the weather in Albuquerque remained sunny and warm. She was anxious to get blankets and supplies to Indigo before the nights were freezing cold; if she did not hear from Susan by the end of the week, she was determined to return to Needles.

The nights were chilly, but the days were lovely; she took long walks from the hotel down Central Avenue to the old town square in front of the church. The spice of burning piñon wood filled the air. From a bench in the shade by the bandstand she watched the old Hispanic women dressed in black file inside for mass. Sometimes she heard snatches of the chants or caught a whiff of the incense as the church doors opened and closed, but it seemed quite remote and strange to her now.

The repeated bouts of therapy with the bellows and rubber tubing wore Edward down, and the raw extracts of glands upset his digestion. On Sunday Hattie found Edward dozing in his bed; he looked much weaker, and his color was not good although the fever subsided. The local doctors disagreed with Dr. Gates over the treatments and withdrew from the case, but Edward insisted the experimental treatments be continued. He said the local doctors couldn't be blamed for their lack of sophistication in regard to the latest scientific developments.

Hattie feared the local doctors were right, but if he refused to listen to the medical doctors, he would not listen to her—better to agree and reassure him. Hattie was grateful not to encounter Dr. Gates at the hospital, but gradually she realized he must be trying to avoid her as well. At last a telegram announced Susan's arrival the next week, but on the appointed day, another telegram came with a new arrival time three weeks away.

The injections left him in a dreamy state for hours; he drifted in and out of consciousness, deliciously numb. The injections slowed his breathing but relaxed the bronchial spasms as well. Later as the injection's effects
waned, he felt quite lucid and energized. He kept a pencil and paper on the table at his bedside and made notes of ideas for the locations of the other mine shafts or questions to ask his friend Dr. Gates.

By then his thoughts were as vivid and detailed as dreams and he was content to sit back and think for hours on end. If he thought about the mine, immediately he envisioned a long glittering tunnel into the center of the crater, its walls embedded with black and white diamonds. At the end of the tunnel was the ore body of the meteorite itself, lustrous soft alloy of pure silver streaked with gold.

He and their company would be able to repay Hattie's loans, and he could settle all he owed Susan and Colin. He recalled Susan the night of her ball in the rich sapphire blue silk brocade that cost hundreds. The mother lode of the meteor crater would put him back in good standing with them. Livorno, even Hattie and the separation, would scarcely matter beside the wall of silver and gold.

Now when he dreamed, not only was the Riverside property all his, but his father was alive in the dream, standing with him between rows of mature citron trees directly west of the house. But when he looked back, he saw only the terrace fountain and lily pond and the terrace garden walls, but the house and all other outbuildings were gone without a trace, as if they had been removed long ago.

He intended to discuss with Hattie the equipment purchases and the overdrafts in one of his lucid periods between the injections. He wanted her to know her loan to him was secured by the machinery and the leasehold. But when she came that afternoon, she was upset over Susan's silence, and he had to reassure her.

Hattie was furious with the woman; what was wrong with her? She refused to be delayed with her plans any longer, and began packing the blankets and other supplies for the girls in sturdy tin trunks. Prices and quality were much better in Albuquerque, a much larger town than Needles. She bought a great many canned goods, and found dried apples and dried apricots, dried beans, and corn sold by the local farmers. When she had everything packed, she realized her luggage would completely fill a buggy. That night she slept more soundly than she had in weeks, and woke early for breakfast and a visit to the hospital before the afternoon train west.

Edward was confident he wasn't dying, but he felt strange and not entirely in his body since the last treatment. Now as the effects of the injections began to wane, he experienced agitation from disquieting thoughts laced with regrets. He should have bribed the customs officers in Livorno
before they embarked to Corsica. He should have concealed the citron slips more ingeniously.

What bothered him most was his memory of the piles of meteor irons he left behind in Tampico; he always intended to return to the town market to acquire those meteor irons from the hostile blue-faced woman. Oh the burn of regret lest someone knowledgeable see the neat pyramid stacks of the irons and buy them before he did! He drifted off on the Pará River once more, his head rested on gardenia blossoms in the big Negress's lap in the canoe; when he looked up at her face it was sky blue.

Hattie saw the Australian doctor and the nurses outside Edward's room and her heart sank. She did not make eye contact with the doctor and was about to enter the room when one of the nuns told her the priest was with him now to administer the Last Rites; Edward slipped into a coma during the night.

Hattie burst into tears and surprised herself with the grief she felt; she knew she was mourning the absence of Indigo as well as the loss of Edward, who was still a friend, after all. Dr. Gates hurried away down the hall as if he sensed her anger. That wretched Australian criminal! His quack treatments destroyed Edward's health!

When the priest left, they allowed her to stay alone with him; his breathing was in slow labored gasps and she reached down to take his hand in hers and whispered, “Rest in peace.” Poor thing! Moments later his breath left him in three loud snores.

The nuns offered condolences and the priest offered to accompany her to the chapel, but Hattie firmly declined. She shocked them further when she announced Edward's sister would make the funeral arrangements. She paid the hospital bill and left a bank draft with the hospital accountant to pay the undertaker to keep Edward's coffin in the icehouse until Susan arrived.

T
HE LEVEL
of the river rose a little higher each morning Indigo took the monkey and the parrot to forage for seeds and roots. The little black grandfather was teething and cried irritably at the least sound, so Indigo kept her pets away for a good part of the morning. At first the tamarisks and willows perked up from the extra water, but as the water began to cover the base of the trees, the leaves yellowed and died.

Once the watercress and other tender plants were submerged, they stayed higher on the sandy bank, where she let Rainbow down to walk with Linnaeus to browse among the sunflowers. She kept a close watch for hungry foxes, who looked for rabbits and water rats displaced by the rising water; a great many tortoises and water snakes hid in the tall grass above the water.

At first the girls all made fun of Indigo for speculating on how high the water would rise; they didn't see the river every day. But the morning they all took buckets to bring water from the hydrant by the church, the twins and Sister stopped in their tracks when they saw how high the water had risen in such a short time. Even the little grandfather, tied piggyback on Sister's back, gazed at the high water.

“It's all going to be flooded,” Vedna said. “I didn't believe it before.” They stood in silence a moment before Maytha whistled slowly and shook her head. The irrigated river bottom land was the best land, where the winter crops of beans and peas, already knee high, were about to be drowned.

At this rate, all the houses and the little church with the hydrant would be underwater too; then where would they get their drinking water? Maytha joked their land would become prime irrigated farmland soon. The sprouts in their dry garden were tiny compared to those in the river bottom fields. Vedna said this must be what the Bible meant about the least shall be first. Sister Salt looked at the houses, where people watched them but
never came outdoors or spoke to them. She shook her head. When the land here was flooded, the people would hate them even more.

They hauled water all morning to fill the iron kettle and the two tin washtubs to boil for beer. After the water cooled to lukewarm, they added the yeast cakes just as Big Candy did. Vedna wondered aloud what became of him, chasing after that Gypsy. Sister Salt shrugged as if she couldn't care less, but she wondered sometime too; the one she loved to dream about was Charlie, even if he was married in Tucson. Sometimes she caught herself daydreaming his wife got ill or had an accident and died; no, she didn't want to get him that way. Probably he didn't even remember her now.

Their house reeked of green beer; every available pot and pan was full of it; Sister and Indigo gathered dried gourds and cleaned them out for beer containers. Candy used glass bottles to get the fizz in the beer, but the glass sometimes exploded. At worst, the gourds only fizzed and foamed.

The twins went to visit their old aunt upriver and took some beer samples with them to give away. They were gone overnight; it was the first time the sisters were alone since Indigo returned. Indigo put the parrot and monkey to bed and joined Sister, who was outside nursing the baby and watching the stars. They shared Sister's shawl over their legs; later there was a chill in the breeze that made them scoot closer together. Sister couldn't resist tickling Indigo's ribs, and she squealed and they both laughed. The little grandfather let go of Sister's nipple and studied both their faces; he and Indigo were jealous of each other, which made Sister laugh. He was rounder now, with fat little wrists and ankles that would have pleased Big Candy. She still felt sad he didn't give the little grandfather a chance. The baby was crawling now, and beginning to try to pull himself upright. He was a serious baby who didn't smile often but who cried only when he was angry; wet or hungry, he remained silent because he was a grandfather and not someone new.

Indigo wanted to make friends with him, and started to help Sister care for him. At first she only watched; each time Sister gently scooped the warm water over his legs and bottom in the shallow basin, he took deep breaths and held them. He screamed if Sister tried to put him in Indigo's arms, so that day Indigo picked up Linnaeus, then cradled the monkey close to her face. The little grandfather watched, then screwed his face up in fury.

“Did you see that?” He knew Indigo was mocking him. Sister nodded. That was why she called him grandfather; they must not tease or mock him.

The twins returned the following evening with a dozen or more guests, mostly Chemehuevi relations but also Walapai and Havasupai friends. Sister and Indigo heard their laughter a half mile away the evening they showed up. They all sat on their blankets on the smooth-packed ground in front of the house; when it began to get chilly, the twins built a fire. They celebrated the new beer and their new friends. They told stories about the old days when the people drank cactus fruit wine in late July to contact the ancestors to rain down their love on them. They made jokes about the rising river, the government's plan to drown all the Indians, and they all laughed and laughed until tears filled their eyes. The only good land left to them now was about to be taken away by the backwater of the dam.