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Authors: Aimee & David Thurlo

BOOK: Plant Them Deep
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“Albuquerque? Why?”
“I’d like to take her shopping, to the zoo, that new children’s museum near Old Town, and things like that.”
Rose turned around to talk to her daughter. “I wish you wouldn’t. It makes me nervous to see her leave the reservation.”
“She’ll be with me, Mom. You
know
she’ll be safe.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Rose said quietly. “But it’s hard when she’s not here.
I miss her.”
“Then come with us,” Ella said. “It’ll be fun, and it would do you a world of good to get away for a few days.”
“I can’t. Not now,” Rose said. “There’s too much happening here that requires my attention.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “But go ahead and take her. You two don’t get the chance to do things like this very often.”
“We’ll be back Sunday afternoon,” Ella said,
giving Rose a hug. “And if you change your mind about coming, we’d love to have you.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Rose said firmly.
Rose returned to the kitchen, where Dawn was eating breakfast. “You’re going to have such a wonderful time with your mother this weekend! Remember everything you do, so you can come home and tell me all about it on Sunday.”
“You come too!” Dawn said.
“I can’t,
sawe
,” she said, using the Navajo work for my darling. “But think of the fun you’ll have with your mother and all the interesting things you’ll see.”
Dawn smiled. “It’s a big-girl trip.”
Rose hugged her tightly. “Take care of your mother for me.”
“Okay.”
Rose headed out the door quickly, hoping no one would notice the moisture in her eyes. She loved her granddaughter more than she’d ever thought
possible. In Dawn she could see the future—of their family and of the
Dineh.
O
nce she was under way in her pickup heading toward the main highway, Rose’s thoughts drifted to Sadie, and she found herself wondering if the young Sioux woman would find staying at Lena’s home by herself too lonely.
When she arrived at the small wood-frame house, Rose saw Sadie outside watering the garden, one plant at a time.
She joined Sadie. “Are you ready to go to the high
school?”
“Give me a minute to change. I guess time got away from me.”
“No, I’m really a bit early,” Rose assured her.
Sadie went inside, and emerged a few minutes later changed out of a T-shirt and cutoff jeans into full-length slacks and a cotton blouse. “I’m glad you invited me to go with you today. It’s really quiet in the house with only the cat for company, particularly because he only
understands Navajo. When I first came, I thought the quiet would be great for studying, but it can get a little spooky. I guess that I’ve become used to a certain amount of chaos around me.”
“I understand perfectly, believe me,” Rose said as they got under way. “I always thought I’d love having the house to myself after my kids were grown, but when my husband died I
discovered that there is such
a thing as too much quiet. didn’t like it at all.” She recalled that dark time. She’d lie in bed some mornings desperately trying to find a reason to get up and get dressed—and some days she hadn’t found one.
“But now with your daughter and granddaughter both there, aren’t things totally crazy?”
Rose laughed. “At times.”
Once they arrived at the high school, not far from Lena’s home, a student
escorted her to the main office. Before long, they were shown into Principal Duran’s office. Rose introduced herself and Sadie, then recounted what she’d seen and described the teens and the Volkswagen beetle as closely as possible.
“I should have expected something like this. We have a few real enterprising kids that are always angling for a way to make some quick money regardless of the risks.”
“Some of the Plant People are so scarce they shouldn’t be picked at all—but to pick without knowing … that can be extremely hazardous.”
“I’ll go through our student vehicle files first, then ask around if it proves necessary, until I find out who they were. Then I’ll speak to their parents.” He paused, then added, “You’re a member of the Plant Watchers, aren’t you?”
Rose nodded. “I am. I’ve
been part of that group almost all my adult life.” She looked at Sadie, then back at Principal Duran as she detailed her own credentials.
“I wonder if I can impose on you and the others to hold an informal meeting here for our summer-session teachers. You can teach them all you can about the dangerous native plants and what they can do to people. We, in turn, will see that the kids get that information
through their classes. When the new school year starts this fall, perhaps we can do it again.”
“I was going to suggest something like that myself,” Rose
said, explaining how Sadie’s expertise complemented her own.
“Then we have a deal?”
“Absolutely.” Rose turned to Sadie, who nodded.
“Do you think you could persuade some of our
hataaliis
to join you? Maybe they can tell us about the ritual
uses for the plants. I think most of us modernists and our Anglo teachers would find that fascinating.”
Rose hesitated. One Navajo never spoke for another. “I’ll ask and see what they say.”
“Good. Call me whenever you have a chance, and let me know when you’d like to schedule the first information session. We still have a month of school to go.” Principal Duran handed her his card, and gave
one to Sadie as well.
Thanking him, Rose and Sadie left his office and walked down the outside stairs to the north parking lot where her pickup was parked.
“That seemed to go pretty well,” Sadie said as they climbed into Rose’s pickup.
“Yes. Now I’d like you to come with me so I can introduce you to the other Plant Watchers.”
“I’d be honored.”
They arrived at
Gishii’s
place east of Shiprock
a short time later. The group of women were gathered underneath the shade of an old cottonwood tree, some seated on folding chairs and others on an old log that had been fashioned into a crude bench. As she looked at her other friends, Rose found herself missing Lena more than ever.
Although theirs was normally a lively, animated group, today Rose could see sorrow and concern reflected on their
faces. Those that were talking were speaking much more softly than usual, and it was easy to guess what was on their minds.
“We heard that she’s not getting any better,” Clara Henderson said in her ancient voice.
“She will. She just needs time,” Rose said firmly. Words had power, and talk of this kind was dangerous.
Rose quickly introduced Sadie to the group, giving them some of her background
and telling them about her contribution to the plant survey work until she’d been replaced for political reasons. “And now she’s taking care of our dear friend’s garden while she’s in the hospital, and helping me organize talks at the high school.”
“We can help you gather material as well for your talks at the school, like maybe collecting some plant cuttings for you to show the teachers. But
I wish they’d allow our new friend to speak directly to the kids,” Clara said, gesturing toward Sadie. “I’m not sure that teenagers will listen to their teachers. They’d be far more likely to pay attention to someone who’s young.”
“I suspect they’ll listen to their teachers on this matter,” Sadie said. “Even the most stubborn and rebellious don’t want to die.”
As the meeting progressed and they
began to discuss the plant survey work, Rose took extensive notes based upon the recent observations of the others. “Oak under a tree” had been found in several places, for example, and Rose documented the location in her notes, making sure not to be too specific.
After two hours of reports and observations, the meeting’s focus turned to refreshments.
As they ate small fried pies made from canned
peaches and dried apples from last year’s scant harvest,
Gishii
stood and looked at the others, getting everyone’s attention again. “I hope all of you who live in our area are planning to go to the chapter house meeting tonight. We need to present a united front.”
“What meeting? And a united front against what?” Rose asked.
Gishii
looked at her, surprised. “I assumed you, of all people, would
know. The man who was assigned to work with
you,” she said, referring to Curtis Largo, “will be there. He’ll be talking about the reclamation efforts that have been made by the power and mining companies.”
“I wasn’t told a thing, but that shouldn’t surprise me,” Rose said, shaking her head. “He has done everything in his power to avoid working or meeting with me. Believe me when I tell all of
you, he is
not
our ally.”
“Then that’s all the more reason for us to be there,” Jane Jim said firmly.
“Absolutely,” Clara said. “If nothing else, we have to make sure he doesn’t misrepresent anything and mislead others.”
After everyone had finished their refreshments and the meeting ended, Rose and Sadie left to continue working on the plant survey. With Sadie’s help, Rose knew that she’d be
able to catalog each species under the proper genus name, and, at least today, there would be no need to take photos for Willie or even make sketches. So that she wouldn’t even be tempted, Rose had left the camera at home. To ease the concerns of the
hataalis
she’d decided to rely on sketches from now on anyway. She’d be returning the camera to Willie as soon as she could. Although she was sure
that a real close-up wouldn’t have revealed much of anything except the condition of the plant, she was hoping that this would persuade some of the
hataaliis
to cooperate with her. Getting the opportunity to visit their various collection sites would have really helped her determine the extent of the problem the Plant People were facing.
As they arrived on a dirt road near Monument Rocks, a tall
formation northeast of Shiprock, Rose glanced at Sadie. “I’m searching for a plant called ‘salt thin.’ Mixed with mutton fat, we use it as an ointment on burns. Although the first time the ointment is applied the pain is said to be excruciating, it soon soothes, and I’m told it works even better than any of the Anglo medicines.”
“It doesn’t sound familiar. Can you describe the plant for me?”
“It has very thin leaves and a salty taste,” Rose said, “and is seldom over two feet tall. It’s a very compact shrub.”
Sadie shook her head. “All I can think of is spiny saltbrush. Does it have thorns?”
“No, though it looks a bit like saltbrush. It could be related, I suppose. It has tiny flowers, like saltbrush, but not this time of year.”
“Sorry. It doesn’t ring any bells. Try to find it,
and if I still don’t know what it is, I’ll research it.”
Rose spent most of the day trying to find the plant, searching along Salt Creek and south toward Chimney Rock. In one area near the dry creek bed Rose found the familiar marks left on the earth by the entrenching tool. “These digging marks are fresh, and if you look close you can see where the person wiped out his tracks. That shows that
whoever is doing this knows very well he shouldn’t be taking the plants. He’s harvesting everything,” she said, picking up several dead plants left around the holes and then setting them back down. “He’ll decimate the Plant People if he continues.”
They worked until late afternoon, but then Sadie, who had evening classes, had to return to Shiprock. Rose’s spirits were low when they reached Lena’s
home and she pulled to a stop to drop Sadie off.
“Don’t give up hope,” Sadie said, aware that Rose was very discouraged. “I’ll research this plant tonight on campus. Maybe once I find out its scientific name, I can come up with some other places it’s likely to grow. At the very least, we can try locations that have similar altitudes and soil conditions.”
Rose arrived home a half hour later.
She was hungry and tired, but she had no intention of missing the chapter house meeting tonight.
Two met her at the door as soon as she went inside, his tail wagging, and she was glad for his company. The house was silent. The note on the table with the name and telephone number of the motel where Ella would be staying told her that her daughter and granddaughter had left early.
Rose had nearly
two hours before the meeting, so there was no need to rush. She’d always hated an empty house, but Two seemed determined to make it up to her. The scruffy-looking mutt followed her everywhere, even after she’d fed him his dinner. Normally he would have gone to sleep, but today he seemed interested only in keeping her company.
When Rose went into the bathroom to take a shower, he insisted on coming
in, and laid down by the door. “Just like me, you’re lonely. Is that it, Two?”
He looked up at her, sighed, then rested his chin on his front paws. Rose allowed him to stay and, after a quick shower, put on her favorite terrycloth bathrobe. She’d only just finished tying the belt when Two suddenly stood. The hair on his hackles was standing straight up, and he gave a low, deep growl that made
Rose’s skin crawl.
She stayed where she was and listened, trying to hear whatever he did, but the house seemed quiet. When she looked down at the mutt, she saw that he was frozen to the spot, listening as she was.
Then she heard the squeak of the rocking chair. Her first thought was that Jennifer had returned, but one look at Two told her that wasn’t it.
The dog’s growl intensified, but although
normally he would have shot after whatever was creating what he perceived as a problem, today he held his ground, remaining with her.
Rose crept into the bedroom, her back to the wall, while Two stood at the end of the hallway like a sentinel. Rose created a quick plan in her head. She’d use her bedroom phone
and call the police, then, if necessary, lock herself in the room and keep the dog with
her.
As soon as she reached for the telephone, Two took off down the hall. His bark was filled with a menace she would have never thought the gentle mutt capable of mustering. Suddenly she heard the kitchen door slam, but from the sound of his barking, she knew Two was still in the house.
The next moment she heard a vehicle racing away, and sensing the danger had passed, she rushed to the window
in Ella’s room, which faced the front of the house. All she could see was the vague outline of a vehicle in the cloud of dust. Returning to the bedroom, she finished her call to the police station, giving them her name and address. She then walked into the kitchen, where Two was still sniffing at the closed door. As she looked around, her gaze fell on a note left on the table. The intruder had
apparently helped himself to the pad beside the kitchen phone.
She started to pick it up, then, remembering her daughter’s comments about police work, pulled her hand back. The message, in pencil, was written in crude block letters:

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