“No, I’m very serious. This world is not simply inhabited by the living but also by spirits who protect us. I think after lunch you and I need to have the kachina talk. I’ll let you in on a few things you need to know about me, my people and the land.”
“Sounds like the talk parents give pre-teens about sex and procreation.”
“You know that talk pretty well, Justine. You show me each time we’re alone.”
“Then maybe we should make love up here.”
“Not here. Come on, let’s go,” he urged, pulling her along. She reluctantly went, but her eyes said that her interest had not diminished. Darrius knew her fixation with the place went way beyond that of getting material for her job. Trying to shift her focus, he suggested another place he thought she would like just as much. “Let’s go to the large pool at the base of the cliff. It’s a miraculous place, and you can even take pictures.”
At the base, large stones of alabaster, basaltic rock and yellow stone surrounded them, blocking the midday sun. The place was quiet, serene and secluded, and had a relaxing effect on Justine’s restive mind. She lay next to Darrius on the blanket he had spread on the shady stretch of grass and rested her head on his chest. After a few moments of silence, she said, “I hope you didn’t misread my excitement at the ruins and confused it with greed. I would never betray you, Darrius.”
“What brought this on?”
“The way you hustled me away from them.”
“I’m sorry. I just get a little edgy when non-Indians want to learn more about the ruins. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Justine, but I know how interested you are. I just want to keep something sacred in this life we have.”
“I understand.”
“I know you do. Now with that said, are you hungry?”
“Uh…no, but a bottled water would be good. Got any?”
“I’ve got everything in here,” he said, reaching into the basket and pulling out a bottle. “It is beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. Is this where you come to think?”
“One of the places. Another is on the other side of El Morro.”
“Near the ruins?”
“Yes, not far from Red Rock. It’s a very dangerous place, Justine; not the area where the ceremonials take place, but on the other side, past the rugged strip of road leading to the mountain range. Only people who know what they’re doing go up there, and that’s only to rescue idiots who dare the terrain and the few Navajos who live nearby. They’re used to it, because it’s where they live. Still, it’s tricky even for them. You’re not thinking anything, are you?”
“Why would I do that, Darrius? I already told you I respect the land and the people too much to go there. Besides, it’s dangerous.” Her panic attack the other day had been warning enough to leave dangerous areas alone. “What did you pack for lunch?”
“Ah, lots of stuff for a late lunch. It’s almost two o’ clock. We have shrimp salad in tortilla bread, guacamole with blue corn chips, fruit, candy—your favorite, black licorice. We have soda and something special, a bottle of white wine.”
“Wow! You were busy after you made love to me last night.”
“I did this just before making breakfast. I already had the shrimp salad in the refrigerator. I cheated a bit and bought it from Escro’s instead of making it myself.”
“I’m sure it’s great. After we eat, will you tell me the kachina story? I know I sound like a third grader begging her teacher for story time.”
“Beg all you want. You know I’m weak for you and most likely will give in to your demands.”
“So if I beg to see more of the ruins, will I get my way?”
He kissed her tenderly on the lips, and then said, “No!”
“I was just kidding, anyway,” she said, biting into her shrimp salad tortilla. “You sure you didn’t make this?”
“Positive, but I can make it. I just ran out of time with getting back into the dance and all.”
“One you did quite well, I might say. Very provocative.”
“Yeah? I can show you more provocative moves.”
Justine looked around cautiously. “In the light of day?”
“We’ve done worse. Remember the stable, the store, the—”
“I get it, Darrius. No, let’s just sit here, watch the water, talk. After the sun sets, who knows where our imagination will lead us? But I want your version of the kachina story.”
* * *
The sun was setting by the time Darrius finished relating the history of El Morro, and Justine was definitely getting in the mood for a kachina sunset. Looking at the sunset, she swore she could see the old Atsinna Pueblos dancing their dances, praising their gods, looking forward to a bountiful harvest. That was the life she wanted—basic, natural, uncomplicated. Yet the lives of Darrius’s ancestors weren’t easy and she knew it, but the lifestyle appealed to her.
Darrius poured a glass of wine into plastic goblets, and they settled back against a cottonwood tree. With Justine nestled between his thighs, he was ready to give her exactly what she wanted—her kachina story. “Ready for your story? Is it dark enough for you yet?”
She smiled and looked up at the vastly darkening sky and lazily replied, “Yes, I’m ready now; take me back to ancient times and live there with me for a while.”
“Then let’s start with where the Hopi originated and why the kachinas are such an important part of their lives. Life for the Hopi, as we know it, began untold centuries ago on mesas in Flagstaff, Arizona. The land was inhospitable, due mainly to scarce rainfall. So, life was hard, but they managed to make a living. They were mostly farmers and grew crops like beans, squash and corn, a mainstay of their diet. And this is where the kachinas come in. The kachina story is basically about religion and exhorting supernatural beings to assist with the harsh land conditions, planting—things like that.”
“Sounds like a creation myth.”
“No myth here. This was told to me by my father, who had been told by his father and his father before him. It has been passed down by generations of Hopi families, and it’s true. How else would people be able to live in inhospitable lands with very little water? Water is the primary motivation for survival everywhere.”
“So, what role did the kachinas play here?”
