Search for the Sacred Seeds (eBook)

tom jernigan (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
160 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
9798350974249 (ISBN)

Infos

Search for the Sacred Seeds is the exciting and heart-warming story of a young Indian woman named Gloria who discards the cultural norms and traditions of her tribe and goes off to experience the bright lights of the white man's world. After four years and a failed romance she feels a longing for the safety and peace of the reservation. But her people are reluctant to welcome her back. When she takes up with a foreign man that she meets on the res, the tribe becomes downright hostile toward them both. A crisis arises on the res when a plot is discovered to steal the sacred seeds that the tribe has protected for centuries. Gloria and her friend risk their lives in a near death effort to save the seeds from being stolen. Their heroic deeds change everyone including themselves.

Tom Jernigan is a graduate of UNM Albuquerque. A retired contractor, he has lived his entire life in the Indian country of northern Arizona and New Mexico.

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Search for the Sacred Seeds is the exciting and heart-warming story of a young Indian woman named Gloria who discards the cultural norms and traditions of her tribe and goes off to experience the excitement and bright lights of the white man's world. After four years and a failed romance she feels a longing for the safety and peace of the reservation. But her people are reluctant to welcome her back. When she takes up with a foreign man that she meets on the res, her people become downright hostile toward the both of them. A crisis arises on the res when it is discovered that there is a plot to steal the sacred seeds that the tribe has protected for centuries. Gloria and her friend risk their lives in an effort to save the seeds from the thieves. Their heroic deed changes everyone on the res including themselves.

Textauszug

Chapter Two

It was almost dark when Gloria Sunshine Bacli turned south out of Tuba City and entered the Hopi reservation. The window was partly rolled down and her hair danced in the wind. The smell of the high desert came in on the breeze. It was not obvious, not pungent, but—she searched for the right word—subtle. That was it. A faint mix of juniper, bush mint, chamomile, but most of all—Tuuvi. Yes, the particular silty sand of the reservation that she remembered since childhood.

At the top of a hill, she pulled over onto a wide spot in the roadway and walked over to the edge of the embankment. Leaning over, she scooped up a handful of sand and let it slide slowly through her fingers while she breathed in the scent. How different it was from the smells of the city. Fresh, earthy. A quick smile swept over her face.

It had been a long four years since she rejected the advice of her parents and moved away from what she had then considered the slow boredom of the reservation and the feeling that she didn’t fit in. She had left to find her way in the fast-paced exciting world of the pahannas while seeking a place where she would be accepted for who she was. But now she was back, feeling like a shorn sheep in a cold wind.

She was back to try and make a place for herself in the community where she was born. Her tribal home. Always considered an oddball by many on the reservation, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. She would try harder. Although there were some things she couldn’t do anything about. She was born that way. Totally unlike the usual Hopi woman, Gloria was tall and thin. Maana Wuupa the kids called her. And then, she had always liked the toys that boys played with instead of the dolls and clothes that girls were supposed to like.

In high school, she gained a reputation for being able to repair old pickup trucks like those that many of the boys drove to school. She was popular in that way but wasn’t very often asked for a date.

Then after high school, she made everything worse by not following the traditional way. Not only did she refuse to wait for a good Hopi man to come along like her parents wanted, but she had gone to the university in Flagstaff and gotten engaged to a white man. A pahanna. Her mom’s voice was loud in her memory, “Daughter, why do you want to go to college and what would you study? You would have to go away. It is a different world out there. Most of those people are interested only in money and they will corrupt you . . .” She had stopped to catch her breath. “We Hopi are a peaceful people, but out there, the pahannas are always trying to outdo one another.”

Yes, she was back, her engagement broken and her future uncertain.

Returning to her car, she rolled up the window and followed the two-lane pavement south toward her parents’ home. She looked forward to seeing them but also dreaded it. There would be the looks, the questions. They would know that something was wrong no matter how she tried to cover it up.

Not far from her parents’ home was the dirt driveway leading back to old man Bonavi’s house. He was one of the few people she felt close to. Just off the highway, in the arroyo between his place and her parent’s B&B, was his corn field. Afternoon shadows framed the juniper trees surrounding the field. At this time of year, he should be working in that field, planting his corn and ditching the hoped-for rain to the base of each plant. But he wasn’t there. And his hoe was lying on the ground beside a plant. He would never leave his tools out when he left. Then she caught sight of a small car mostly hidden behind a tree alongside the old man’s driveway. Bonavi drove a beat-up old pickup. There was no pickup truck around.

She turned at the next driveway which led to her parents’ house and pulled over to the side. In the rearview mirror, she saw the car in Bonavi’s driveway suddenly switch on its lights and hurry out on the highway in the opposite direction. “Someone just taking a break?” she wondered. But where was Bonavi?

She was late. Her parents were expecting her much earlier. She turned on the overhead light and looked into the visor mirror. A little cosmetic, pushing up the corners of her mouth and smoothing out the skin under her eyes helped to make her face a little happier. Then she moved the car up and parked alongside the two junipers that her dad had protected alongside the building when he constructed it many years ago. Junipers are revered by the Hopi people. Dead tree limbs were utilized for firewood and the berries for emergency food. The roots, which can reach down two hundred feet into the soil, and the flexible branches were used for making various tools. She recalled tribal tradition that says the trees are never to be cut down or killed. She reached out and squeezed the pungent-smelling needles.

Climbing up the steps to the B&B, she stood outside the door for a moment before entering. Running her finger down a crack in the door, she remembered that her dad had built it years ago when they converted the house into a B&B. It had weathered a lot over the years. He had patched it several times with wood putty.

Then, with her hand on the door latch and her eyes closed, quiet and stillness loomed around her. No traffic, no sound of people. Instead, from far away beyond old man Bonavi’s house came the high-pitched cries of a pack of Iisaw, coyotes, yipping their lonesome message. A common sound on the reservation, but this evening, it caused a shiver to run up her spine. She pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.

“Gloria, hi, come in. Is everything ok? You’re late.” Her mom stepped back and looked at her. “You’ve been crying.” She knew her mom would see it right away. Her dad walked over and hugged her; then he stood aside and waited quietly for the rest of the story.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Had a little trouble getting out of Flag.” Except for her height and thinness, Gloria looked like a typical Hopi woman. Skin the color of coffee with a lot of cream and cinnamon. Jet-black hair cut medium short. Her facial features were well proportioned and she always looked ready to smile. But there was no smile this night. Her parents looked at her, waiting for more. “I, ah, broke up with Arthur.” She avoided using the term fiancé and didn’t want to talk about how she found him in the arms of a blonde woman just before she pulled out of town. It made her sick when she thought about it. Thought about that pale-faced woman with hair like straw.

Arthur was a good-looking “boy” as her parents called him who she had met at the University. Her parents had wanted her to marry into the tribe as tradition called for, but Gloria thought she knew better, and that things were going well. Oh, there were a couple of quirks that bothered her. Like the fact that he didn’t have a car and was always borrowing hers. And that he was always joining some protest and winding up in jail. Gloria was not confrontational and hated going to the jail to bail him out.

“But it’s ok, I’ll be fine,” she said to her parents. The statement came out weaker than she wanted. “Are you guys ready to go?” She brushed her hand lightly across her forehead and sat down stiffly with her hands on her knees.

“Well, yes, we are ready to go—but, maybe we should stay here with you . . .”

“NO! No, please. That would make me feel worse. I want you to go. This is the only vacation you guys have ever had. I’ll be ok. I’ll call Mayze and we’ll get together. I’ll be fine.” She attempted a smile. Her mom looked at Herman, Gloria’s dad. He stood there a minute staring at the floor as if unsure what to say.

Hesitating, her mom finally said, “I think we’ll wait a little while. We will still have time to catch the plane. That way, we can go over a few things that you will need to remember.” She glanced at Herman. He nodded his head. They spent an hour or so going over things that Gloria would need to keep track of as she managed the B&B while they were gone. How to make the coffee, where to find the linens, and so on, most of which she remembered but was glad to review. “We have one woman staying here,” her mom said. “She always arrives late and leaves early in the morning. Kinda weird. She doesn’t act like a tourist. Never eats breakfast here. Never says anything. In fact, she hasn’t returned yet today. She paid up-front for five days. So, you don’t have to mess with her.”

“Where is she from?”

“Lebanon, or someplace like that,” her dad said, “but like your mom mentioned, you won’t have much to do. We got plenty of food in the kitchen for five days. So just take it easy and relax. Also, maybe you could talk to old man Bonavi. He asks about you all a time. You should try to see him.”

Her parents kept hesitating and peeking at her in case she wanted to talk about her troubles, but she never engaged their eyes. As soon as there was an extended lull in the conversation, she hugged them both, said goodbye, and headed for her room. She heard their car start up and drive away. She had been too tired to mention that she hadn’t seen Bonavi in his field, that his hoe was left lying out in the open, and that there was a mysterious car parked in his driveway with its lights off. She remembered the car suddenly driving...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 4.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Lyrik / Dramatik ► Dramatik / Theater
• ISBN-13: 9798350974249 / 9798350974249