Chapter 21: Changing Woman

“This is ridiculous!” Kathy griped, wiping her brow with her apron. Despite the cold winter chill, she was sweating near the open fires as she split the last salmon and inserted the green wooden stakes to hold it while it baked over the open coals. She filleted the larger chinooks (called ‘Kings’) and set them on damp cedar planks for indirect roasting. “I’ll have to double the order next year,” she said to Peter, who was helping her set the prepared fish on the racks to cook.

Sunday was the second day of the Native American winter solstice celebration. Yesterday, she prepared 25 large salmon, some weighing up to 30 pounds, enough to feed 2500 people. Yet her contribution to the previous day’s feast was entirely consumed within 3 hours. During the second and final day, the number of participants had swollen, with trading booths and service venues spilling beyond the fairgrounds and into the fields beyond.

“Girl, you better triple it!” Veronica said, blowing a lock of her short blue hair out of her face. She handed her coal rake to an attendant who took over the cooking now that the setup was done by Kathy’s strict instructions. “Man, I got serious boob lube going on!” she added as she plucked at her sweaty shirt.

“Maybe we should arrange for a delivery truck,” Peter suggested, wiping his forehead. “Remember that weird giant canoe-shaped grill they used during the Puyallup?” He referred to the 3-week Washington State Fair in August and September. It was the largest fair in the state and one of the ten largest in the country.

Kathy made a face. “That’s no way to cook salmon for a traditional First Nation feast,” she retorted. “I just need a bigger fire pit.” She studied the wide circle of tables around them.

“Babe, folks are already lining up for your fish,” Peter replied as they wandered over to a table with flavored lemonades. “And this is just the Apache Winter gathering. Festivals happen all the time here, with big ones in Tuba City, Gallup, Window Rock, and Albuquerque. There’s a huge rodeo in four months right here, and the oldest rodeo in the country is in Page every year.”

Kathy regarded him like he had a third eyeball before shaking her head. “Nuh-uh, no way. I’m not marrying some rich dude to spend my life sweating over a bank of coals.”

“Oh my gosh!” Ronnie squeaked excitedly as she sipped through her straw. “I still can’t get over you two getting married!” She punched her little brother in the shoulder affectionately. “I mean ... there was never a doubt, right? Duh,” she snorted. “Have you told Al yet?”

Peter shook his head. “We haven’t touched base with him in over a month,” he replied. “He’s in Berkley studying his ass off.”

“I chat with him occasionally via ARPANET,” his sister replied. “He is taking on a huge curriculum. We’re talking double majors in Computer Engineering and Global Economics.”

Peter whistled appreciatively. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s Shoe. He’s probably already written his dissertations.”

Kathy nodded, holding her ice-cold drink against her neck. “God, he’s so damn smart! And he doesn’t even realize it.”

Her fiancé nodded. “A hell of a lot smarter than me.”

“He’ll never believe that,” Ronnie said, “He’s always looked up to you as a brainiac role model.”

“You’d never guess by their banter about how ‘genius’ they are,” Kathy retorted with her doh-doh voice.

They stepped through the tables and began milling around the trading booths.

“Granted, I may be smart,” Peter said, “And I have perfect recall. But Alan is a certified genius. I’m talking Mensa class.”

“What’s Mensa?” a tired voice asked.

They turned and found Charity wandering toward them, dragging her feet. She wore her Changing Woman mantle over her embroidered tribal dress. Her white feathers hung limp, and her face was smudged with sweat and dirt.

“Hey, squirt,” Peter said as she bumped into him and stayed pressed against his chest, her head down. He patted her hair. “Why are you so down?”

“I’m tired,” she mumbled. “I danced my butt off this morning.”

“Char, this is Veronica, Peter’s sister,” Kathy introduced.

The fifteen-year-old turned her head and peered one-eyed at the blue-haired woman with a pixie-cut hairstyle. She pushed away from Peter and shuffled over to the woman, collapsing against her like she did to her brother. “Hi, sister,” she mumbled. “I’m tired.”

Ronnie hugged the girl delightfully and smiled brightly at them. “I love her,” she grinned.

“What’s Mensa?” the girl repeated into her chest.

“It’s a group of really smart people who sit around telling each other how really smart they are. Occasionally, they allow other smart people to join them so they too can feel good about how smart they are.”

“That sounds dumb!” the girl grunted, refusing to budge from Ronnie’s arms.

“Now that’s a smart girl talking,” Kathy laughed.

“Are you Mensa?” Charity continued.

“Oh God no, sweetheart!” Veronica laughed. “I’m not half the genius these two are.”

That made the girl step back and regard Peter with a squinty glare. “Wait? You’re smart?”

Kathy snorted, and he chuckled.

“So, they keep telling me.”

“Like, super smart?”

“Yes, baby,” Kathy assured, grabbing the girl and pulling her possessively into her arms. “Uncle Peter is a certified genius! Now, where’s my hug?”

The girl kept looking at him like it was the first time as she leaned against his girlfriend. “You take an IQ test or something?”

He nodded, “I aced the Stanford-Binet at twelve. And shot the bell curve on Cattell and Hamburg Wessler at thirteen and fourteen, respectively.”

“What’s your IQ then?”

“According to the Stanford, 130,” he replied. “On the Cattell and WAIS scales, I’m 163 and 178.”

“No fucking way!” she shot back, causing Veronica to laugh hysterically.

“Oh God, child!” Kathy blanched. “You smell like an old goat! Come on, let’s find a hydrant and hose you off.”

“You’re smarter than Einstein?” Charity persisted as they steered her toward the camping area where the Fleetwood was parked and set up with utilities.

“Many people are smarter than Einstein—after the fact,” Peter answered. “In his day, he was at the top of his class. He’s made us smarter by sharing his knowledge.” They got to the Fleetwood, and he unlocked the door, holding it for them to enter. “I’m not so special, kiddo—my brain just works differently. Now DaVinci? That dude was off-the-charts smart!”

Charity considered his words as Kathy and Veronica dismantled her tribal costume. “What was his IQ?”

Peter shrugged. “Nobody knows. Best educated guesses put him over 200, though. He was probably one of the smartest people ever.” He noticed how the reed-thin girl had started filling out in her ribs and thighs as she nonchalantly slipped off her bra and panties. He blinked in surprise when she shook her booty before Kathy smacked it, causing her to yelp.

“In you go,” she ordered. “Scrub everything! Wash your hair twice so I can braid it.”

They heard the adolescent mime back at her as she washed. Kathy smirked and sorted through her tribal costume parts. “Jeez, this is a mess. Hand me that spray cleaner and some paper towels so I can make it presentable for this afternoon’s ceremony.”

While she wiped, cleaned, and brushed Charity’s dress and mantel, Peter’s sister poked around the cabin, “Is this what you lived in while traveling?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he replied. “We stopped at hotels now and then to wash clothes and take showers.”

“What will you do when you’re married?”

He glanced at Kathy, who concentrated on the heavy dress. “We haven’t thought about it, sis.” He looked up and found her frowning at him. “What?”

“You need to start thinking about it, son,” she rebuked him. “You can’t expect to raise a family in a motor home.” She opened the small fridge and pulled out two cans of Dr. Pepper. She handed him one and poured the other into her empty lemonade cup. “I know one thing, though, just by watching you two this morning.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You’re not leaving here, are you?”

He glanced up and found Kathy looking at him. Even with her neutral expression, he read her like a book.

“No,” he replied. “I ... um—”

Veronica raised her cup in salute. “You don’t have to explain it, baby brother,” she replied wistfully. “I get it.” She set down her drink and sat beside Kathy at the dinette, grabbing a washcloth and the white feather headdress. “I felt it pulling my heart the minute we got out of the truck,” she said as she gently wiped the dust and dirt from the feathers and braids. “I may end up here once I graduate.”

They worked quietly together. Neither noticed the distant expression on Peter’s face as his mind wandered.

After a few more minutes, Kathy glanced toward the opaque shower door. “You doing okay in there, baby girl?” There was no reply. They could see the flesh-tone form of the girl standing still under the shower spray. “Hey, Char ... you done yet?” she added, getting up from the small table.

Peter sat straight as she opened the door, finding the naked fifteen-year-old standing under the shower, stock still with her eyes closed. He raised an eyebrow when Kathy laughed and grabbed a towel.

“Wake up, silly goose!” she chided as she shut off the shower and wrapped the fluffy towel around the girl’s thin shoulders.

“Did she fall asleep in the shower?” Ronnie giggled.

“I’m tired!” Charity whined as she was pulled into the cabin and rubbed down.

“I would say so,” Kathy replied as she took another towel and wrapped the girl’s hair. “Come on,” she led her to their queen-sized bed, pulled back the covers, and pushed her over until she collapsed dramatically onto the mattress. She pulled away the damp towel and covered her up with the blanket. “You take a nap, and we’ll find you some clothes until the ceremony.”

“I’m hungry!” the girl mumbled tiredly.

“You’re always hungry.” Kathy leaned over and kissed the girl’s sleepy face. Standing up, she turned to Peter. “Will you find Lenna and get this little devil some clothes?” she asked as she returned to cleaning the costume. “And bring back a small deer or something.” She glanced at his sister and shook her head as loud snoring began from the bed. “I swear, the way she eats, you’d think she stars in a Suzzane Somers charity commercial for needy African children.”

Peter chuckled and stood up, “Be right back.”

“We have twins, too,” Lenna stated later as she sat beside Nana Shima in a folding chair, nursing Abigail. She had just spent hours directing the setup for upcoming activities. Peter had introduced his sister to her, the ancient woman, and the other Whiteriver clan folks. Several women took to the grad student immediately and insisted on taking her around the event to help her shop for gifts and novelties.