Gardens in the Dunes (76 page)

As the weeks passed, she regretted her promise to Indigo. She could not get back to Road's End in thirty days as she thought; a dozen letters and telegrams were sent and received over the bank account.

It was much colder now in Albuquerque and she wished for the warm boots and clothing she'd left behind when she moved from New York. She waited until the sun warmed the air around midday for her walks down Central Avenue; fragrant piñon fires scented the crisp air; she hoped Indigo and the girls had enough firewood. Road's End was much farther south and at a lower elevation, so the winter was milder. The hotel clerk commented it usually wasn't that cold in early December.

Most days it was too cold to walk all the way to the old town square and the church, but now she slipped in the back of the church behind the pews to warm herself. She passed the holy water font by the door, and ignored the crucified Jesus in the center of the altar; instead she stood in the alcove with the statue of Mary with the baby Jesus in her arms. How false they seemed after the terra-cotta madonnas in Laura's black garden.
My Mother, my Spirit
—words from the old Gnostic gospels sprang into her mind.
She who is before all things, Grace, Mother of Mythic Eternal Silence
—after months in the oblivion of its shallow grave, her thesis spoke to her.
Incorruptible Wisdom, Sophia, the material world and the flesh are only temporary—there are no sins of the flesh, spirit is everything!

Though she declined his invitation to dinner, the lawyer worked diligently on her behalf. Since her loan was secured by Edward's interest in the meteor ore venture, Mr. Maxwell, the lawyer, suggested they go to the crater to see for themselves what the mine might be worth. Hattie was adamant about avoiding any contact with the Australian doctor, and the lawyer assured her he would take care of everything.

The train arrived in Winslow in a snowstorm the morning before Christmas. While Hattie got settled in her room, Mr. Maxwell made inquiries around town and learned the Australian doctor had not been seen for weeks. He left behind two small crates of rocks, which the hotel manager seized for the unpaid balance the doctor owed.

It became her practice to first unpack the box of carved gemstones to arrange them on a bureau or bedside table where she could see them. Given
the least backlight, the gems had an almost magical translucence. How she envied the timeless space they occupied while mortals stumbled along in disgrace. She was weeks late to see poor Indigo! If the lawyer was encouraged by what they saw at the meteor mine site, Hattie planned to try to sell her entire interest to him for a modest sum—enough to provide for Indigo and to take her to England to Aunt Bronwyn.

Christmas morning was sunny, but as the snow melted, the roads in and around Winslow became nearly impassable. They were the only guests in the hotel dining room for Christmas dinner, but the hotel manager and staff were quite hospitable; perhaps they hoped Hattie or the lawyer might want the crates of rocks and pay the bill.

The following morning Mr. Maxwell hired a buggy complete with a heavy wool rug to cover them during the drive to the meteor crater. The snow was not deep but transformed the plain and the low hills and mesas beyond. The view from the crater rim dizzied Hattie, and the sharp winding trail into its depths unsettled Hattie's stomach and gave her a headache. What had Edward's last letter said about a meteorite fragment buried as if it were a baby? She wished she had stayed at the hotel—too much of Edward and the Australian were still here.

No one seemed to be at the mine site at the bottom of the crater. After a brief inspection of the machinery, Mr. Maxwell doubted much of the money went toward the purchase of new mining equipment. The only new piece of equipment was a giant spring-loaded cutter used to slice open the meteor irons; beneath the heavy sharp blade Hattie saw piles of fragments left over from poor meteor irons guillotined to reveal any diamonds or precious metals. Nearby, other crates of meteor irons awaited the blade.

The mud and standing water at the bottom of the crater lapped at the edge of the wagon road. The drilling rig and other equipment looked old and poorly maintained; Mr. Maxwell pointed out the hoses and pumps and speculated the shaft constantly flooded. While he walked around the ramshackle tents and shed, Hattie directed the driver to load the two crates of meteor irons into the buggy.

Mr. Maxwell gave her his assessment on the drive back to Winslow: except for the cutter, the equipment was nearly worthless, and the mining lease devalued by the seepage, which must be pumped constantly to keep the shaft dry. He thought he would be able to sell the cutter and the other equipment to cover his fees and her expenses thus far, with some money to get her on her way—but that was all.

Mr. Maxwell expressed concern about her plan to go to Needles; it
wasn't safe for a woman to travel alone out here. He wanted her to return to Albuquerque.

Nonsense! She'd been traveling alone for months quite safely.

After Mr. Maxwell departed, Hattie asked to see the rocks left behind by the Australian doctor. As she suspected, they were meteor irons, and despite her limited funds, she paid the hotel bill to get them.

At the depot in Needles the crates of meteor irons proved too heavy for the luggage cart even for the short trip around the corner to the hotel. The station attendant went for help, and to Hattie's discomfort, returned with the sullen young man and his buggy. She gave the station man a dollar to send the crates and her valises ahead—she preferred to walk.

The hotel desk clerk appeared surprised to see her again; he handed her a letter that arrived weeks before from her father. The desk clerk asked she pay for the week in advance, which seemed odd until she realized the banker or the telegraph clerk alerted the others to her financial difficulties. After he struggled to bring the crates, her valises, and the trunks of supplies, she tipped the bellman a half-dollar to dampen the rumors about her insolvency.

Her father's letter brought her to tears. He begged her to come home to them; they loved her so much and they were so proud of her no matter what anyone might say. They both were getting on in years and one day the house and land would be hers—she might as well come live there now. He knew about Edward's overdrafts on her bank account from Colin, who was executor of Edward's estate. She mustn't worry—it was only money. Please come home.

She put the letter on the bed, and unpacked the little box with the carved gemstones. She held up each one to enjoy the play of light through the chalcedony and carnelian. She arranged them on the night table with Minerva and her snake flanked by the three white cattle and the waterbird and her chick.

No, she'd rather wander naked as Isaiah for years in the wilderness than go back to Oyster Bay to endure the stares and the expressions of sympathy. She refused to serve as the living example to frighten young girls judged too fond of studies or books.

♦   ♦   ♦

The Sand Lizard sisters packed up and left Road's End after a guest revealed the flooded minister had contacted the Chemehuevi reservation superintendent about unauthorized Indians living at Road's End.

The twins didn't want them to go, but Sister and Indigo knew if they
stayed there'd be trouble; they didn't belong there. The twins lied for them, and told everyone the Sand Lizard sisters returned to the reservation at Parker. The day they took the mail wagon to Needles, they covered the cages with a tarp and hid themselves, crouched down in the deep bed of the freight wagon. Linnaeus and Rainbow both sat solemnly in their cages as if they understood their garden crimes had contributed to the trouble.

The twins stayed to care for the garden and assert their rightful ownership of the land their old auntie sold them. Their flooded neighbors wanted that land for gardens to feed themselves. The twins didn't blame the neighbors; good farmland was in short supply. But Maytha and Vedna had to eat too. They paid old auntie two hundred silver dollars, and they had proof.

No one lived on the riverbank south of Needles after that winter the soldiers and Indian police broke up the dance for the Messiah. The driver of the mail wagon was kind enough to stop south of town to let them off and even helped unload the cages and some of the bundles. Sister showed Indigo the very same hearthstones they'd used before with Mama and Grandma.

While the weather was still dry, they got busy building. They used sturdy pieces of crates and other scrap lumber they found in the town dump, which was full of useful materials. Of course the Mojaves and Walapais and others who lived around Needles searched the dump every day too. The girls didn't find any large pieces of tin, but they patiently pounded tin cans flat, and with nails they pulled out of the old lumber, they were able to cover the scrap lumber entirely with tin.

On the shortest day of the year a big storm came with much rain and even sleet and hail to test the lean-to they built on the riverbank. The wind whined and the wood creaked and groaned and the rain and sleet whipped against the walls; it wasn't snug like the little stone house at Road's End, but it kept them dry.

They stuffed the cracks with Indigo's stockings and arranged their bundles and Indigo's remaining valises against the thin walls for added warmth and protection. They all huddled together—the girls and baby with the monkey and parrot—wrapped in the good blankets Hattie gave them.

Sister felt a little regretful for the mean feeling and thoughts she'd had about the white woman who was so generous to her sister and her. They'd been so busy packing their last week at Road's End, Indigo didn't have time to check at the trading post for letters.

The morning after the storm, the girls woke to the sound of dozens of crows calling from the bare white branches of the cottonwood trees along
the river. The girls were overjoyed; the Messiah and his family must be on their way! They drank the last of the coffee as they discussed the preparations that must be made.

Later they took turns carrying the little grandfather, who watched intently as the sand over the stones was brushed away and missing stones replaced in the big circle that formed the spirit house of the Lord.

More crows still had to come, and of course the girls had to get people to come dance or the Messiah and his family could not appear. Once the stones of the circle were in place, the girls began to gather firewood. On days the mail wagon went south, they watched for Chemehuevi people going as far as Road's End; a girl about their age agreed to get this message to the twins: The first crows have arrived.

While the girls scoured the riverbank for snags of driftwood under the tamarisks and willows closest to the river, the racket of the crows accompanied them. Linnaeus clung to Indigo's side until he saw some plant delicacy and slid to the ground; now that Rainbow's wing feathers had grown out, he flew ahead to reach plant sprouts ahead of the monkey. Indigo recalled how the crows in Aunt Bronwyn's garden welcomed her and Rainbow, and again in Italy the crows reminded her the Messiah and his family were not far away. Sister didn't say anything; from her expression Indigo saw she didn't believe her.

“Maybe those were a different kind of crow,” Sister said. They stopped to rest on the sandy bank in the sunshine. Sister unbundled the little grandfather from the shawl on her back and spread it over the ground so he could crawl. Indigo shook her head slowly; no, it was true; she'd seen for herself. In a little town the people gathered to pray and the Messiah's Mother showed herself on a stone wall.

Sister made no comment as she offered her arm so the little grandfather could steady himself as he tried to pull himself up. Now the monkey and parrot rejoined them; Linnaeus was fascinated by the baby, but Rainbow only wanted to chew the edge of the blanket they were sitting on.

Indigo described the old stones Aunt Bronwyn cared for in her gardens; these stones used to move and to talk until the churchgoers smashed them. Sister nodded; she believed that. One night the stones even called Hattie out of her bed and she woke up in the garden! Sister laughed and Indigo joined her. Grandma Fleet knew stones that played tricks! Remember the stone that sweats and the other that urinates? They laughed again.

Indigo said in England there were a great many Christ Churches but the Messiah and his family seemed to travel most of the time. Sister nodded.
That was because so many greedy and cruel people did damage only the Messiah could repair. Trouble was in so many places, he had to travel constantly, and so did the Mother of God, who often went to help alone.

The warm sunshine felt so good after the cold weather that followed the big storm; Sister stretched out on the blanket and the baby crawled up on her chest and pulled at her dress for a breast until she unbuttoned and gave him one, then lay back to stare up at the sky. Indigo described the stone figures, half man and half horse or bull, hidden in shady green woods, and how they startled her and Hattie. There was even a giant head of a woman who kept baby snakes in her hair. Sister was interested but not shocked: Grandma Fleet always said humans were capable of sex with anything and on rare occasions these strange creatures were born. The stone figures were proof of the strange offspring.

The wind came up and small puffy clouds began to move across the sky; the baby was asleep with her nipple half out of his mouth, so Sister gently laid him on the blanket beside her and buttoned up.

Indigo told Sister about the gardens. All flowers? Nothing to eat? Yes, like the little flower gardens in front of houses in Needles. Only their friend Laura had big, big gardens—one was all black flowers, black gladiolus Laura raised herself. The black flowers honored the first mothers—half human, half bird, half bear, half snake, their clay figures carefully placed in little spirit houses in the black garden. Best of all was the rain garden of sand and tall succulents; their spikes of yellow, orange, and red flowers towered above the snake girls with basins on their laps to call the rain.