“That’s right. Seems I’m the only one still in the dark ages.”
“Don’t say that. I still like those old ones, too. Though I haven’t actually developed photos like that in a while now, I still like to.”
“Then maybe you can help me develop mine. That is, if you have the time.”
“I could probably find a few minutes. Are you talking about today?”
“Sure. Why not? The Queen’s Parade is hours from now.”
Being huddled in a dark room with the likes of Darrius Red Sky could get her body and emotions in a peck of trouble. She was finished with men. Right? “Um, I don’t know. I really wouldn’t want to be late to the contest.”
“And you wouldn’t be. I promise to have you back at Red Rock way before time.”
“What kind of pictures did you say you take?”
“Amateur ones. I like to piddle around with scenery. I have pretty good shots of Ship Rock.”
“I’ve heard the name but don’t exactly know what Ship Rock is.”
Their food arrived and the scent of enchiladas wafted through the air. The scenery he was describing sparked interest, and she listened as he spoke of the mystic rock formations.
“It’s the core of a basaltic ancient volcano, considered sacred by the Navajo. Its real name is Tse Bit’a’i—The Rock With Wings. I go there sometimes to cool off, do some thinking and get my head on straight.”
“Kind of like what some of the ancient priests and hunters did before ceremonies or major hunts?”
“Kind of, but I go there to get away from the real world, the world of work, bills, family.” He cut into his enchilada and stuck a heaping forkful into his mouth.
Justine watched him enjoying the meal as if he hadn’t had enchiladas before. But his story was so interesting that she pressed for more, wanting as much information from this spectacle of a man as she could get.
“To get away from family, huh? Who else is there besides you and your brother?” she asked as she cut into her enchilada.
“We’re just two pieces of the puzzle. Everyone participating in this ceremony is my family—we are all natives. The intertribal festivities represent what it means to be a native family.”
“I’ve always found that so fascinating. I only wish other nationalities had the kind of cohesiveness I see with the Native Americans. Others do have togetherness as well, but it seems to be more pronounced in this culture.”
“Oh, we have our issues. Don’t get me wrong and don’t romanticize us so much. We have everyday problems with family and everything else. It just seems that most of us put our differences aside this time of year to celebrate what is truly important to us. This ceremonial represents our heritage, our way of life, now and traditionally. Our belief systems are derived from our life source, which is Mother Earth, the wind, the sky, rain; we see value in everything. The word intertribal means ‘related in some way.’ Sure, there are over eighty different tribes in this area, but this is our way of celebrating a heritage we all share throughout the Americas and elsewhere. This may sound like a cliché, but it is true. The intertribal ceremonial also allows non Indians to join us, celebrate.”
“Where would the deities come in?”
“The deities must be your favorite part of our traditions.”
“They are. I like the sacredness of them, the different gifts they offered, the way they served as protectors in a lot of cases. I’ll admit to needing more schooling to know the entire story of the deities. Would you be willing to help me with that?”
“I’d love to, but it’s a long story. I’ll just give you a snippet for now, and then if you have more time a few days from now, I can go in deep, answer all lingering questions. They come from everywhere, literally.”
She swallowed the last of her enchilada. Darrius Red Sky was not only a storehouse of information, but the absolute best source to get it from. He, apparently, was a man who loved his culture, and she admired him for that. She would have one hell of a memory to take back home with her.
“Whatever I can do to make your stay here more enjoyable and knowledgeable, you tell me. I can be at your disposal, Justine. We are the land, and loving it is like loving ourselves. You understand that? This is my home. I love it here. My brother and I were actually born in Zuni, but the family moved to Gallup when Derrick and I were four years old. Now, you wanted to know about my traditional family, right?”
“I would like to know more about you.”
“Right. For the story?”
“No. For my own personal knowledge. Believe me, someone else is going to write the text. I’m just giving them a hell of a lot to go by with my photographs. Really though, I like you, find you interesting, kind, so helpful to a girl in need of the best shots.”
“To show up my people and my home, I’d gladly write my autograph across your skin—that is, if it would please you.”
“Why, Darrius Red Sky! I do believe you’re a bit of a flirt.”
“Only when it’s important.”
“Is it?”
“I’m still sitting here with you, aren’t I? I could be relieving my brother at the cash register instead. The minute I saw you looking at the bracelets, I knew you were something to behold. The sky told me of your arrival, remember?”
“I do, and I find it fascinating that you have such broad knowledge. Is this typical of your family?”
“Oh, that’s right, my family. You see what you do? You draw a man’s attention away from everything but you. My parents live near Farmingdale. My father retired from the family business, which, as you know, is producing tea.”
“Warrior’s Brew?”
“That and more. I have a sister who is fifteen and living with my parents.”
“What’s her name?”
“Her name is strictly Indian, created way before Native American was the so-called politically correct thing to call us.”
“Before it was fashionable to be Native American?”
