Chapter 10

Shortly after dawn Maria awakened beside her husband. Her thoughts immediately returned to the young man in the cave. Why was he here on the reservation? What happened to his hand? Should she say anything to anyone? Finally, when her mind was beginning to feel overloaded she decided she needed to start the day.

She rebuilt the fire in the stove. While the room was warming she went to where she had her food stored. Unwrapping a deerskin she removed several strips of dried crushed fruits and nuts. Unwrapping another she removed several pieces of jerky she’d soaked in the oil from crushed pine nuts. Finally, from a third she removed a block of dried pressed pulp from the mescal cactus.

While she ate a bite of the jerky she sat her cast iron skillet on the wood stove and added a bit of tallow to be melting. She poured herself a cup of water and drank some to help the jerky expand. Taking an old percolator coffee pot she put some coffee in the metal insert, added water, put on the top with its little glass ball, and placed it on the stove. Coffee was one of the few things from the white man Robert found of any value. She took another bite of jerky, but this time she also took a small bite from one of the bars of dried fruit and nuts. Chewing slowly she silently broke the mescal into a powder. She added some flour and honey to that, broke up one of the fruit-nut bars, added water and some of the melted tallow and kneaded the ingredients into a ball. Going to the flat slate rock she used the previous evening she pressed out the ball until it was roughly the size of the skillet, and placed it in the hot grease. As the bread fried in the skillet she continued to eat the piece of jerky and the dried fruit-nut bar, washing them down with sips of water.

By this time the Hogan was filled with the smell of the coffee and the frying bread was beginning to add its own unique aroma to the mix. Robert opened his eyes, a little disoriented, and looked around. His head was splitting, but his stomach felt much better. Not saying a word to Maria he arose, slipped on his calf-length moccasins, and walked to the stove where he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Smiling, she handed him a piece of jerky, and asked, “Feeling better this morning?”

“Stomach better; head feels like rock fell on me. My woman’s medicine is strong. I slept deep without dreams.”

“That was the valerian root I added to the tea. I thought the sleep would help your body fight the withdrawal.”

“You make me sleep like that and not escape? Maybe I leave off weight today while I go.”

“If you do I’ll try to get us some more meat. Do you have a rifle? There was an elk on the canyon ridge yesterday.”

Robert answered, “Rifle stolen from truck. I see if I can borrow one. Elk would help us last through the winter.”

“Yes, it would. I’ll also need some things from the store soon.”

Maria turned the bread for the fourth time and decided it was done. She placed it on a metal plate on the table, letting it cool while they continued talking. Robert added a bite of the fruit bar to the jerky and continued drinking his coffee. His headache was easing and he was actually feeling better than he had in a while. After the bread had cooled for a few minutes he broke off a large piece and took a bite.

Obviously pleased with the flavor he said, “This good. I’ll leave off the weight today. Look for acorns for stew, as Charlie GrayElk promised deer meat. I go to his house today. See if he can help find truck.”

Maria went to the doorway and watched Robert walk down the long, dusty road. Finally, when he was almost out of sight she turned back inside and began cleaning up. Seeing the portion of uneaten bread she thought about the young man in the cave. If he’d lost a lost of blood, she needed to help him keep taking in fluids and there was a tea her grandfather had shown her would help stimulate the body to produce more blood. Looking in her medicine bag, she realized she’d everything she needed except for a watery fern that was fairly plentiful in these low mountain streams. She grabbed the water jug and headed for the stream behind the Hogan, as she really needed to get fresh water, anyway.

She went to a shallow, rocky area where the water flowed swift and clear, and refilled the jug. Next she searched along the breaks in the rocks for the needed plant. While she searched she saw many trout, swimming in the pool below. It’s a shame, she thought, the Apache doesn’t eat fish. There are many meals in that pool. Grandfather says there used to be a parasite that caused much sickness. Even though the parasite has, supposedly, been eradicated the Apache still refuse to eat it. Finding the plant she needed she returned to the Hogan and mixed the ingredients to make tea. It’d be better if the plant was dried first, but that would take too long. While the tea brewed she finished straightening up her home.

Taking the things she thought she’d need she returned to the cave. The young man was just like she left him. He seemed somewhat feverish, but not excessively so. The back of his hand showed no sign of infection, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. While she studied the wound she wondered how it could have been made. It wasn’t a tear or a puncture, like he’d hit it on rock, nor was it a typical cut. She sat him up, and, using the light from the cave mouth, she slowly got some food and drink into him, including some of the tea. He seemed to be semi-conscious in that if she told him to do something he’d passively try to do it. He finally seemed to drift into a deep sleep. She covered him with the blanket and returned to the Hogan, leaving the remainder of the food and tea behind.

At the Hogan, she checked the stove and added some more wood. She grabbed a basket, as well as her sling, and headed toward a stand of oak trees about a half mile up the canyon. Walking quietly along the path she was able to kill two rabbits with her sling. She passed up an easy shot of a grouse because the Apache believe birds were once people, and, therefore, not to be eaten.

Reaching the oaks, she saw signs of there being many squirrels in the area. She could hear them chattering in the trees, but didn’t actually see one. She spent the next few minutes carefully picking up fresh acorns. She selected them individually rather than just picking up handfuls. She was looking for small holes made by worms, as well as other blemishes. These she discarded, keeping only those that seemed perfect.

A short time later she returned to the Hogan, carrying a basket of acorns, and the two rabbits which hung from a leather strap wrapped to her wrist. She hung the rabbits on a peg outside the doorway and went inside. She took a large clay bowl, filling it about half full with water. She added the acorns and removed any that floated. Pouring off the water she started peeling the remaining acorns. When she had about fifty or sixty peeled she placed them on a small baking sheet. She checked the wood in the stove, and placed the pan in a small oven area. The remaining acorns she wrapped in a piece of cloth and carried them outside. She spread the cloth and the acorns out to dry on top of a large rock that was about thirty feet from the Hogan’s doorway.

She went back into the Hogan, checked on the acorns she’d placed in the oven to dry, and fixed herself a meal of some seasoned meat strips wrapped in flatbread. She ate slowly and thought about her situation. Was Robert mellowing, or was this just a break in the storm? Would she ever be able to finish school, or see her grandfather again? What about a home? She didn’t need anything fancy, but she didn’t want to live like this the rest of her life. While she contemplated these things, something began to sink into her head. Robert was playing the part of how he thought the stereotypical Apache ought to live. This may have been a reaction to the teachings, or lack of it, by his parents, or he may have been so set apart from actual Indian household activity he assumed this was how he was supposed to act.

In actuality, based upon her grandfather’s teachings, the woman played a much larger role in the tribe than Robert envisioned. Outside of war and treaties with outsiders the Apache were, actually, a matriarchal society with the wife’s mother revered and in control of the household / family unit. There was no dictatorial tribal chief who lorded over the tribe. At times a group of families could select a leader to unite them, but he was not like a king. This matriarchal view permeated the culture to such a degree the son-in-law wasn’t allowed to look his mother-in-law in the eye, but had to look at the ground when in her presence. He couldn’t initiate a conversation with her, he could only speak in response to her questions. Also, for a woman to divorce her husband all she had to do was throw his clothes out the door, but for a man to divorce his wife he had to leave the area and find another tribal unit that would accept him. This was dramatically opposed to Robert’s ‘wife is slave’ attitude.

She checked the acorns in the oven and turned them carefully. She wanted them to dry, but she wasn’t trying to roast them, not that it’d hurt if they did become a little roasted. Since Robert wasn’t yet home she decided to check on the young man again. She picked up a small basket and headed for the cave. Inside she found him resting better. He was still fairly out of it, but she got him to eat a good bit and drink one of the bottles of water. She’d take the empty bottle and bring it back later with more food. He didn’t like the tea, but she got him to drink it anyway.

While she returned to the Hogan she stopped and gathered various plants, and placed them into the basket. When she got inside the first thing she did was check the acorns in the oven. They seemed about right, so she removed the pan from the oven, and set it out to cool and finish drying. While the acorns were cooling she skinned and cleaned the rabbits, tacking the skins to a board to be cured. She cut each rabbit into two halves and rubbed each piece thoroughly with various natural herbs. Finally, when she was finished she rolled all four rabbit pieces into a piece of deerskin and buried the bundle in a cool, dry spot near the creek.

Returning to the Hogan, she determined the acorns were about ready. She got out a large flat rock with a bowl-like area worn into its middle. There was also a smaller stone that was rounded and smoothed to match. They worked together like a mortar and pestle to grind the acorns into a fine flour. She then placed the acorn flour into a specially prepared cloth bag and took it to the area of the creek where she’d been earlier in the day. She attached the cord which pulled the end tight to a rock large enough to keep the sack from being pulled down stream. She added a second cord to the other end and tied it to another rock. She then placed the bag sideways in one of the swiftest parts of the stream. The water flowing through the bag would leach out most of the tannin that was present in the natural acorn. It was the tannin that gave the acorns their bitter flavor.

John slowly began to regain consciousness, but, for a while, he felt completely disoriented. Finally his head cleared enough to realize he was in a cave, and wrapped in a blanket he’d never seen before. There was also a bottle of water, a cup of something that didn’t taste or smell very good, and some food. He wasn’t sure how he got here, or who his unseen benefactor was, but, at the moment, he was just grateful to be alive. More of his memory returned, but he still remembered little after being awakened by the elk.

He carefully stood. He was woozy at first, but the longer he stood the steadier he became. He drank more of the water and ate the rest of the food. He didn’t like the other drink, but felt whoever left it thought it was important. He slowly sipped it as he explored his surroundings. He first looked out of the cave mouth. From one side of the opening he could see the Hogan through the trees. He wasn’t sure what kind of home it was, but someone must live there, he decided, since there was smoke coming from a chimney extending out of the roof.

Suddenly his eye caught movement, and when he focused he saw a young Indian girl moving around the building toward the trees in the back. She was moving funny, like her legs wouldn’t accept a regular gait. Since she was having to take smaller steps she almost seemed to be darting between the bushes. He didn’t want to laugh at her, but she immediately reminded him of the chipmunks that used to play around the rock wall next to his parents home in Opelika, Alabama.

While he moved away from the entrance he wondered if she was his mysterious benefactor. Also realizing he was tiring John went back to where he’d been lying, and sat back down. He drank the rest of the tea and lay down, wrapping the blanket around him. In a few minutes he was sleeping peacefully.

A few minutes after Deke arrived at his office on Monday he received a call from the Attorney General to meet with him in the Governor’s office. He arrived about ten minutes later, and the Governor’s secretary ushered him straight in. Holding what was probably Deke’s resignation in her hand the Governor asked, “Deke, what’s this all about? Did my heavy-handedness offend you Friday?”

“Ma’am, let’s just say it was the final straw. I’ve been around long enough to smell a political cover-up, and I didn’t want any part of it.”

The Governor jumped out of her chair, pounding on her desk. “What do you mean cover-up?” she screamed.

“Just what I said. I’m convinced the boy is innocent, but you wouldn’t even let me explain why I felt that way. Instead, you come up with some ‘cockamamie’ explanation that casts a shadow on a close friend, turns the entire prison upside down, and then expect there not to be fallout. Be realistic, Governor.”

“Well, the boy’s dead, so it’s all a moot point. Why don’t we just start over? We’ll put Warden Saunders on medical leave, appoint a temporary Warden you select, and go on with life. If you really think he was innocent, then when things cool down I’ll look at your evidence, and if I agree, I’ll quietly issue a pardon. How does that sound?”

“Ma’am, I’ve already accepted a partnership with a law firm with a half million a year guaranteed. I know Mary Beth isn’t going to be willing to come back, and I’ve already been told there will be wholesale resignations at the prison. Ma’am, you’ve opened a can of worms I don’t believe you can close. I’d like one thing, though.”

Exasperated, the Governor said, “What’s that?”

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The Hawk and the Chipmunk

Mike Lowe aka The Scot

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