A Rainbow in Paradise (16 page)

"Who are we going to meet?" Eden asked.

"My family," Logan answered. "That is, my
father and his wife, Esther. My sister, Celia, is here, too."

Eden stared, wide-eyed. "You have a
sister?"

"Remember last Monday when we went to my
grandmother's? She had a letter that morning, brought over by a
neighbor."

"I remember," Eden answered.
I remember
almost every awful minute of our visit with your
grandmother.

"The letter was from my dad. It turns out
it's time for Celia's
kinaalda
—that is, her coming-of-age
ceremony—and they want to have it at my grandmother's home. They're
in Holbrook to pick up some supplies on their way out to begin
setting up for it."

"Oh." Eden didn't know what to say as she
prepared to meet the rest of Logan's kin
. I can only hope this
goes better than the last meeting with Logan's relatives, she
thought.
Aloud, she said, "I'm still amazed you have a
sister."

"I expect you'd call her a half-sister," he
said as he pulled the truck in next to a battered, older version of
itself outside the Kachina Cafe. "Here we are. They're inside
having lunch."

"Great," Eden answered, wishing she felt the
least bit of enthusiasm. Not waiting for Logan to come around to
her side, Eden opened her own door and swung her legs out. She
stiffened her backbone and pasted a pleasant expression on her face
as she took Logan's hand and walked beside him, stretching her
stride to keep up.

She spotted the Redhorse party as they
stepped into the room. Apparently the Redhorses spotted them as
quickly.

"
Yah-ta-hey
." The man who stood to
greet them was an older version of Logan—shorter and leaner, to be
sure, and a little darker in his complexion, his hair coarse and
black instead of Logan's wavy sable. Still, there was no mistaking
the resemblance of father and son. They had the same high,
prominent cheekbones, the same wide faces and long, patrician
noses. Their mouths had the same shape, though she noticed now that
Logan's lips were a little fuller. Even their brows were the
same—high, wide, and clear—and each of them had a tiny, wayward
lock that fell forward regardless of its owner's efforts to comb it
back. Eden had never given much thought to what Logan's father must
look like, but had she thought about it, she suspected her
imagination would have conjured this very man.

Esther, on the other hand, was her image of
the typical Navajo woman, only dressed for town, rather than for
the reservation, in cotton slacks and a loose overblouse, her hair
cut in a fluffy short style rather than bound back in the
traditional bun. She wore silver and turquoise in her ears and in a
stunning bracelet high on her forearm.

It was Celia who was the surprise. Her long,
black hair tucked neatly into a clean French braid, Celia wore her
ancestry on her face—a darker, feminine version of Logan's. Yet
everything else about her proclaimed her a typical young teen—about
fourteen, Eden guessed. From her trendy, high-top sneakers to her
blue jeans to her fashion magazine makeup, Celia was a child of her
age. The one point in her dress that clearly identified her as
native was her T-shirt.

Made of plain white cotton knit, it sported
the portraits of four Native American heroes. Eden recognized the
one labeled
Red Cloud, Oglala Sioux
and the one labeled
Sitting Bull, Hunkpapa Sioux.
She didn't know the other two
portraits, though she immediately knew the name of
Tecumseh,
Shawnee
. It was the fourth portrait that caught her attention.
Though she had lived on the edge of the Navajo nation her entire
life, if it hadn't been for the stories Logan had told her
recently, she never would have recognized either the portrait or
the name of
Manuelito, Navajo
. Then as Celia turned to
wiggle out of the booth where she'd been sitting, Eden read the
legend on the back of her shirt and almost laughed aloud. In large
black letters, the shirt proclaimed,
My Heroes Have Always
Fought Cowboys.

"I like your shirt," she ventured, grinning
at the girl.

"Thanks," Celia answered, grinning back.

Eden was still smiling as the older man
clasped Logan's shoulder in greeting. Then there was a jumble of
mixed Navajo and English as everyone talked at once. Somehow, Logan
worked into the confusion an opportunity to introduce Eden to
everyone, then to introduce "Albert Redhorse, his wife Esther, and
their daughter, Celia" to her.

Even in the midst of the confusion, Eden
couldn't help but notice that he didn't speak of the man as his
father, or acknowledge kinship to either of the women, either.
Though that suggested a formal kind of distancing, she didn't feel
any tension among the group in front of her. In fact, they seemed
very much like family, with a warmth and acceptance she had seldom
seen except, perhaps, among the McAllisters.

"They are coming to Grandmother's hogan for
Celia's
kinaalda
," Logan explained.

"You said that earlier," Eden responded, "but
what is a kin—"

"
Kinaalda
. My
kinaalda
," Celia
answered. "It's the coming-of-age ceremony that is held for Dineh
girls. I wanted to have mine here so my grandmother can be my..."
She turned to Logan. "How do you say that in English?"

He tried the word in Navajo, and then
answered, "I don't know exactly. It means something like 'ideal
woman.' "

"Yes," said Celia brightly. "So Grandmother
can be my ideal woman." Logan saw Eden's confusion. "There's a
woman who leads the
kinaalda
through her ceremony," he
explained. “The girl usually chooses someone a couple of
generations older who has been a role model to her for the kind of
woman she wants to be as an adult."

"Besides, I wanted a Chinle
kinaalda
,''' Celia answered. "They don't do them right in
Pinedale."

There followed a flood of spoken Navajo—it
seemed to Eden that everyone was talking at once—and through
Logan's occasional bits of translation, Eden learned that the
kinaalda
had once been standard practice among the Dineh,
then had become almost passé during the decades of the 70s and 80s.
"It saw some resurgence in the 90s and is coming back strong now as
more and more young Dineh want to return to their roots," he
explained. "The families sometimes insist on it, too, so their
daughters will grow up to be virtuous women, of worth and
reputation among the People."

Logan asked in English about singers and
through the jumble of both languages that followed, Eden sorted out
that Frank Manypersons was to be the chief singer for the planned
kinaalda
. She knew a "singer" was a medicine man or shaman,
one who had spent years learning the songs and chants that
encompassed the oral history, myths and traditions of the Dineh, as
well as their blessing and curing ceremonies. Other singers were
mentioned as participants.

Within minutes, it had been decided when the
kinaalda
would begin and end, what would be served to the
guests, and that Logan—apparently the wealthiest of the honored
girl's relatives—would provide the sheep for the feast and the corn
for the
'alkaan
, which Logan explained as a kind of
pit-baked corn cake that was a traditional part of every ideal
kinaalda
.

"You will come, won't you, Eden?" Celia spoke
as the conversation was breaking up. “At least for the big public
day and night?"

"I... I don't know," Eden stammered, looking
to Logan for help. "Is it... can you have a
belagaana
there?"

There was a moment's hesitation and Eden
thought Albert and Esther looked decidedly uncomfortable. Then
Celia answered, "I can if I want. I'm the
kinaalda
." She
looked to Esther. "Right, Mom?"

Esther answered in Navajo, and then seemed to
realize she was excluding Eden. She repeated, "That's right, Celia.
You are the
kinaalda
.''

"Then you'll come, won't you, Eden?" Celia
pressed.

Eden looked to Logan for help, but if he was
offering any, she wasn't seeing it. Finally she answered, "I'll see
what I can do."

"Do come," Celia insisted as her mother drew
her away.

"I'll see if I can," Eden said again.

Apparently the Redhorses had finished their
meal just before Logan and Eden arrived. Now as Albert paid their
bill, they started outside to their pickup truck.

"It was good to meet you," Eden said as she
nodded first to Albert, then to Esther.

When she turned to Celia, the girl grabbed
her hand. "I want you to see what we're all about," Celia said.
"Get Logan to bring you out on Tuesday. That's the public day. Come
early."

"I'll see," Eden said again, warmed by the
girl's eager acceptance. Though neither Albert nor his wife had
been rude in the way Logan's grandmother had, she felt a chilly
distance in their approach to her.

"'Bye," she called moments later as she and
Logan waved the other pickup on its way toward Ella Redhorse's
hogan.

"Shall we get some lunch?" Logan invited.

Eden demurred. "No, thanks. I ate a little
while before you arrived."

"Home then?" he asked.

She nodded. "Home."

Logan helped Eden into his truck. Moments
later, as they pulled out onto the street, Eden decided to broach
the uncomfortable subject. "I suppose you didn't expect Celia to
invite me."

"I must admit it surprised me a little."

"I gathered that." Again the silence
stretched. "Listen, Logan, I can see what's happening. Your
grandmother has no use for me at all, and neither your father nor
stepmother is any too crazy about me—"

"They're just not used to meeting
belagaana
in any kind of social setting. They'll warm
up."

"They don't need to," she offered. "I'd only
be putting you in a very uncomfortable situation if I came to your
sister's ceremony, the... what's it called again?"

"
Kinaalda
," he answered, heavily
accenting the final syllable.

"If I came to Celia's
kinaalda
," Eden
finished. "So you see, I do understand. Just take me home and we'll
tell each other what a lovely morning this has been, then you can
make up some excuse about how I was too busy when Celia asks you
where I am."

He gave her a long, searching look. "Is that
what you want?"

She looked away, swallowed hard. "That's
probably what is best."

"That isn't what I asked."

Confused, Eden watched the road. They were
almost out of Holbrook. Once they reached the highway, it wouldn't
take long for them to be back in Rainbow Rock.

"Eden, is that what you want?"

She sighed and faced him again. "Logan, I'm
confused. I don't know what I want."

"I know what I want," he said slowly, his
eyes burning with intensity. "I want to ignore my grandmother's
wishes, and pretend I didn't notice my father's coolness toward
you. I want to spend this last little while with you before you
have to go back to Phoenix."

His intensity almost took Eden's breath away.
"I... I don't know if that's..." she stammered. Then she tried
again. "Is it acceptable for someone like me to attend a
ceremony?''

He shrugged. "You wouldn't be the first
belagaana
to attend one," he answered. "Besides, Celia's
right. She's the
kinaalda
. If she asks you, it's almost rude
for you not to come."

"Celia is the
kinaalda
?'' she asked.
"Does that word apply to the girl or the ceremony itself?"

"Both," Logan answered. "It's the name for
the ceremony, and for the girl while she is going through the
ceremony."

"And it takes several days?"

He nodded. "Um-hm. Usually eight to ten days,
though the more open parts last for only the first five."

"And you're coming for all five days?"

"Oh no, I can't get away for that long. I'll
come for the fourth day and night, though. As Celia said, that's
the public part of the ceremony. They're starting on Saturday, so
that will be Tuesday. Eden, will you come with me?''

"You know your grandmother will have a fit,
don't you?"

His face was straight, though there was a
twinkle in his eye as he answered, "It will be good for her. So,
will you come?"

Searching his eyes, she made her choice. "I'd
love to," she answered, and watched his face soften in a smile.

* * * * *

"That's it, then." The real estate agent Eden
had hired began packing up her papers, including the listing
contract Eden had just signed. "We'll put this place on the
official home tour for agents on Thursday, and open it to potential
buyers this weekend."

"That soon?" Eden felt a sinking sensation.
"It's only Monday now."

"We at Babbitt Realty don't let any grass
grow under our feet," the woman assured her, tossing her a beaming,
hard-sell smile.

"But I may not even be gone by Thursday."

"Oh, no problem. Just tidy up that room
you're staying in before you go out for the day. We show lots of
homes that are fully occupied. It'll be no problem to work around
your few things."

"Oh." Eden tried to smile about the prospect.
"Well... good."

"You'll be surprised how quickly things can
move. You have this place in nice shape, too, and you’re asking a
fair price, nicely in line with the market, so I wouldn't be
surprised if it sells fairly quickly."

"That'll be... good," Eden answered. Until
this moment she hadn't realized it might be difficult to let go of
the house she had grown up in, the home where she had known her
mother, the place Logan had helped her prepare for sale.

She sighed as she showed the agent out.
"’Bye. Thanks again."