Shaxoa's Gift (7 page)

The man nodded and continued to watch me as
he poured the feed he was carrying into the troughs. Leaving the
pails by the inner fence, he walked over to me, careful not to come
too close. “Did you need some help, son?” he asked.

“Actually, I was looking for some
directions,” I said. “I need to speak with your shaman. Do you know
where I could find her?”

“What business do you have with Miss Kaya?”
the man asked.

“I’m from San Juan Pueblo, the Tewa community
in New Mexico. Our shaman sent me to speak to her,” I said.

“You’re Tewa?”

“Yes sir, from New Mexico.”

He nodded slowly. “Sometimes I forget there
are more Tewa in the world than those of us here in Hano,” he said.
“Kaya lives on the north side of town. Why don’t you come in for a
minute and I’ll draw you a map to her house. I’m Ben Redcloud, by
the way.”

“Uriah Crowe,” I said offering my hand. We
shook briefly before he motioned for me to follow him inside. I
sighed at the thought of the delay, but there was nothing I could
do about it. Stepping on top of his dusty footprints, I walked
toward the house.

Relieved that the man had not decided to call
the police on me or run inside and lock the doors, I followed him
into his home. Passing through his living room, we stopped in the
kitchen. Ben rummaged through a kitchen drawer before producing a
small pad of paper and a pencil. His thick fingers quickly sketched
the roads of the town that lead from his house to the shaman,
Kaya’s, home.

Holding the paper in front of me, Ben’s
finger traced the route I should follow. “Her house is right in the
middle of the street, white stucco with a greenish colored trim,”
he said. “She may not be up and about yet. You want something to
eat before you go? You look hungry.”

Having already intruded on the man and
interrupted his work, I wanted to say I was fine, but as he turned
away and pulled a warm tray of corn bread out of the oven I
remembered I was indeed starving.

Ben seemed to sense my hesitation. “It’s too
early to be bothering Miss Kaya just yet. Why don’t you have some
breakfast?”

I knew he was right. I would probably only be
hurting my chances of getting any help for Claire if I went around
banging on doors just after sunrise. Maybe Ben could give me a
little insight into what Kaya was like, as well. I could use all
the help I could get at this point. “If you’re sure you don’t
mind,” I said.

“Sit down, son. I’ll get some butter and
honey out,” Ben said. Turning to his cupboards, he opened a door
next to the stove. After a few seconds he came back to the table
with two plates and a jar of honey. Grabbing the butter from the
refrigerator, he finally joined me at the table. I waited, trying
to be patient for Ben to serve the hot bread. Steam rose from the
pale yellow square and my stomach growled. I took a bite, happy to
have hot, freshly made food again.

“So what do you need to see Kaya about, if
you don’t mind me asking,” Ben said.

I didn’t really know what to say. I wasn’t
about to spill out the events of the past three days to him. Most
likely he would throw me out of his kitchen if I did. My tired mind
worked fast to come up with something plausible. “My family has had
some problems come up lately and our shaman, Quaile, just felt like
she wasn’t able to help us enough. So she sent me here to speak
with your shaman.”

The man nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.
“If she sent you here to speak with Kaya, then why didn’t she know
where to find her?” he asked.

My mind whirled again. “Well, I guess Quaile
hasn’t stayed in very good contact with the Tewa living here in
Hano before now,” I said.

Ben raised an eyebrow, no doubt wondering why
Quaile would suddenly decide to strike up a friendship.

“I think the other Elders are pushing her to
reconnect or something. Like you said, sometimes we forget you guys
are even here.”

This time Ben’s nod seemed satisfied. “Well,
there really aren’t that many full blood Tewa here anymore. Most of
the people here are at least half Hispanic now. Kaya’s family and a
few others are really the last of the Tewa. We don’t follow many of
the old ways or believe in the old stories either. I guess we just
got too far away from it all.”

“You don’t?” Worry sprang into my mind. What
if Kaya was one of those that didn’t really believe anymore? What
if being the shaman was a traditional title and nothing more?

“No, we haven’t had Elders here in Hano for a
long time. People still turn to Kaya for help, but not very many
really believe in what she can do,” Ben said.

“Do you believe?”

“I’m one of the few who do.” Ben turned away
from me, giving me the impression that he did not want to discuss
his reasons for believing in the shaman’s abilities. I took the
hint and dropped the subject.

I took another bite of the cornbread, hoping
I had distracted him enough to keep him from asking any more
questions. We ate in silence for a few more minutes, Ben finishing
first. I made an effort to hurry up with my last few bites.
Standing up to wash his hands, Ben moved across the kitchen
quietly.

“Do you live here by yourself,” I asked.

“Yes, I do. My wife died a few years ago from
cancer, but the sheep keep me company,” he said. “They’re good
animals.”

“Yes they are,” I said.

Ben’s eyebrows rose. “Do you keep sheep?”

“Yes, sir. My family has a sheep ranch back
in San Juan. My father died of a heart attack last year, so it’s
just me and my mom now, but I enjoy the work.”

Ben smiled and nodded. “It keeps me busy,
gives me something to get up for now that my wife is gone.”

I frowned thoughtfully. Could I ever do the
same if I wasn’t able to free Claire? Even thinking of it sent pain
shooting through my chest. Nothing could ever replace Claire for
me. Perhaps, if I had already spent a lifetime with her, like it
seemed Ben had done with his wife, I could survive losing her by
distracting myself with work until we were together again. But not
now, not when the promise of a future with her was still so fresh
in my heart.

“Well, I guess you could try heading over to
Kaya’s house now. She might be up,” Ben said. “You’ll be wanting to
get on your way, I suppose, but if you need anything before you go,
feel free to stop back by.”

Extending my hand, I said, “Thank you, Ben. I
really appreciate the help.” The man merely nodded and walked me to
the door.

I pulled the map Ben had drawn for me out of
my pocket as I walked away. My steps clapped along the hard dirt
road, moving at a hurried pace. The path seemed simple enough. Even
if I got lost, I felt confident that with as small as the town was,
I would find the shaman’s house eventually. Little puffs of dirt
followed me as I walked down the road. The streets wound around the
houses, not entirely straight, but well organized. Rows of hundred
year old adobe mud brick houses lined either side of every
street.

While much of the town reminded me of San
Juan, there were subtle differences that displayed the mix of
Hispanic culture into Native American life. Many of the houses were
painted in more lively colors than I was used to, and many of the
decorative elements had a distinctly Spanish feel. A small yapping
Chihuahua darted away from one of the houses, intent on making a
new friend until a child’s voice called it back to the yard.
Luckily Ben’s map proved accurate, and I found myself standing in
front of the white stucco house with green trim much quicker than I
expected. My footsteps stuttered as I faced her house. The last
time I went to a shaman for help, I ended up spending three days
getting chased by a monster. What was turning to another one going
to put me through?

6: Kaya

Two quick steps brought me to the front door.
Raising my hand, I knocked sharply. My palms began to itch as
nerves raced through my body. Would she believe me? Would she help
me even if she did? I could hear movement inside the house. Claire
was depending on me to make her see our need. I shoved my hands in
my pockets and tried to focus my thoughts. The thin strand of
Claire’s hair wound around my fingertip. The slight touch instantly
calmed me. Claire needed me. After a few minutes I heard the lock
disengage and saw the handle turn. Stepping back quickly, I waited
for the door to swing open.

Answering the door was a woman who was at the
most, ten years older than me. I wondered whether she was Kaya’s
daughter, or a villager seeking advice. It seemed a little early
for visitors. I hoped she wouldn’t stop me from speaking with the
shaman.

“May I help you?” the woman asked.

“Yes, um, may I speak with Miss Kaya?” I
asked. My foot shuffled nervously in the dirt.

“You already are,” she said. A smile touched
her lips as she watched my reaction. My expression must have been
laughable, because that was exactly what she did, laugh. I tried to
apologize, but she simply waved my words away. “I get that all the
time. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. Compared to
Quaile, she was a child. I had honestly thought there was an age
requirement to becoming a shaman.

When her composure returned, Kaya looked at
me with wondering eyes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you,”
she said. “May I ask why you’re on my doorstep?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Kaya, my name is Uriah
Crowe. I’ve come here from San Juan Pueblo to speak with you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Has something happened to
your own shaman?”

“No, Quaile is fine,” I said.

“Then why are you here, Uriah Crowe?” Her
face showed none of her earlier cheerfulness. “We haven’t had any
contact with the Tewa in New Mexico for some time.”

“It’s kind of difficult to explain,” I
said.

“Try.”

My breathing grew more rapid. I was not
starting off as well as I’d hoped to. Remembering the necklace, I
quickly slipped it off my neck and held it out to Kaya. “Quaile
told me to give this to you and you would help me.”

Kaya took the necklace and carefully checked
every part of the symbol. Satisfied that the beaded leather was
from Quaile, Kaya handed it back to me. “Perhaps you should come
inside and explain what’s going on.” Stepping aside, Kaya opened
the door all the way and waited for me to step inside.

Reaching out to Talon, I made sure he was in
place and ready to check Kaya’s responses. His quick answer assured
me that he was able to hear her thoughts and was near enough to
help if I needed him. Feeling slightly more confident, I stepped
into Kaya’s house.

I had never been inside Quaile’s home, but as
a child I had always imagined that it would be special or
mysterious in some way, or incredibly scary. I still didn’t know
what the inside of Quaile’s home looked like, but Kaya’s was very
average. Her walls were painted in beautiful earthen tones. Her
furniture was older, but very sturdy and expertly made.

The loom sitting in her living room held a
half-finished weaving, a traditional wool manta. I glanced at it in
surprise. Seeing that she practiced the traditional art of our
people gave me hope that she was more in tune with legends and
myths than the rest of the town apparently was. I couldn’t help but
wonder if she got her wool from Ben. Much of the wool from my sheep
went to local weavers in San Juan. Kaya gestured for me to sit down
and took the seat opposite me.

“Now, why have you come all the way to Hano
to speak with me, when your own shaman is perfectly capable of
handling any problem you might have?” Kaya asked.

“This isn’t something Quaile can help me
with, and to be honest, it isn’t something you can help me with
either,” I said. Kaya cocked her head to the side. “I need to speak
with Hano’s Shaxoa.”

Kaya’s eyes instantly flew wide. Her breath
caught, and she seemed to hold it for much longer than she should
have. “There is no Shaxoa here,” Kaya said.

Talon’s thoughts sprang into mine. “She is
lying to you, Uriah. The Shaxoa is here, and she is afraid to tell
you about her. The Hano Shaxoa is very powerful. She harmed a young
woman recently. Kaya believes it was not on purpose. The young
woman wanted to learn from the Shaxoa and could not handle the
experience.”

“You got all that from her thoughts?” I asked
Talon.

“The mind is capable of thinking much faster
than the human mouth can speak.” His assessment was stated as mere
fact, but the warning about Kaya had been forceful and honest.

Turning my thoughts back to Kaya, I stared
into her eyes. Kaya did not turn away, but her eyes held tremendous
fear. “You are lying to me, Kaya,” I said.

The shaman was taken aback at my accusation.
She was about to respond to my words, but I quickly cut her
off.

“Kaya, I don’t mean to be rude, but I do not
have time for lies,” I said. “I know there is a Shaxoa living in
Hano, and you believe her to be very powerful. I know that she
injured a young woman, though it may have been an accident. Please
do not lie to me, Kaya. I can’t waste any time here.”

Kaya stared at me dumbfounded. “How…how can
you know that? I am the only other person who knows how the girl
was hurt, and I haven’t said a word about it to anyone else.”

I took a deep breath, and took a risk by
telling her the truth. “My companion can hear your thoughts. He
told me about the injured girl.”

Her reaction was much different than I
expected. Telling anyone else that I had someone hiding nearby that
could read her thoughts should have either gotten me thrown out of
the house or slapped across the face. Kaya’s eyes closed tightly as
she took a steadying breath. Her hands folded in her lap before she
opened her eyes again and stared intently into my eyes.