He mimicked her sigh. “Dasodaha will learn
to love you in due time. I promise.”
She frowned. “I will never be able to
pronounce his name. What does it mean?”
“He only sits there,” answered Blue
Thunder.
“You people have such silly names.”
“What white eyes mean by, “you people?” He
didn’t hide the mirth in his tone and she did not miss the laughter
in his voice. “Oh, I didn’t mean to... I mean I like your name, how
did you acquire it?” She looked into his dark eyes that were as
beautiful as black satin, simply
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compelling, magnetic. For a moment the brave
studied her intently, drawing in his lips thoughtfully.
“My parents had been traveling for miles to
escape the dog soldiers and the journey had
proven too much for Leimanipi-Wihopawin,
which means, travels beautiful woman. My father had just put up
their new home when she went into labor. She was from another clan
and my parents wed very young, both only seventeen winters. My
father said the moment he laid eyes on Leimanipi-Wihopawn he knew
she was his soul mate.”
“Oh, like you confessed when you first saw
me. And I’m very grateful for that because I would be---” “Hush,”
he put a finger on her lips and continued. “This Apache would
rather not remember that moment; it still makes me tremble inside
when I think of same thing.” He continued but there was steely edge
to his velvety voice.
“The day I was born a fierce storm was
raging. Thunder and lightning rocked Mother Earth. My mother always
liked the blue of the clear sky after a storm so she named me Blue
Thunder. Children receive their earliest names from something
particularly noticeable at the time of their birth.”
“Oh, what a lovely story, do all Indians
name their children in that manor?” She probed further as she
looked up at him.
“Yes. But sometimes when a boy becomes of
age and eats the hallucinating drug and comes back from the sweat
lodge with a vision, he takes a new name. I preferred to keep the
one my mother gave me.”
Now more curious than ever, Melissa asked,
“Was Star Gazer given his name at birth?”
He laughed gently and in a soothing voice,
he said, “No, my father called him, Spirit Fighter because my
mother was in labor so long. When he grew, he began to watch the
skies. I
asked him why and he claimed he like
counting the heavenly stars, saying he saw patterns, sometime
animals up there.”
When Blue Thunder pointed his long, bronzed
finger upwards at the new moon sky and chuckled, she reprimanded
him lightly.
“Don’t make sport of him, my love. You know
your brother is right, we have what are
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called constellations; The big dipper and
the Milky Way.” He lifted his broad shoulders in a manor which told
her wasn’t interested.
“I began calling him Star Gazer and he
didn’t seem to mind.” He added as an after thought, “Mother died in
childbirth along with a female child when I was ten summers.”
“I’m sorry about your mother.”
“We both lost loved one and I am sorry about
your lose also; someday you will tell me about your family. He
kissed her wantonly. “No talk,” he whispered hotly against her
lips.
Melissa kissed him back, flicking her hot
tongue around like a moth to a flame. “I love you with all my
heart,” she whispered. All other words were spoken with their
bodies. Knowing his love for her made the act seemed more
beautiful.
The day was clear when Melissa rode in with
Blue Thunder. She wished her insides wouldn’t quake so as they past
the village’s people. Although, this time, no one spit or hit her,
their faces held scorn. They were unhappy to see her and she
understood why. Blue Thunder dismounted and lifted her gently from
the horse; scenes from her past flashed through her mind.
“Go to wickiup,” he ordered, his voice soft,
“I must speak with my father.”
“Please tell him how sorry I am and beg his
forgiveness,” she said as he walked away.
Before she ducked into the hut, she saw
Laughing Tree standing near her lodging. The woman looked thinner;
her face held the horror and the guilt of her daughter’s death.
Melissa thought she saw a hint of understanding in Laughing Tree’s
sad eyes, but respectfully lowered her own gaze. The need to beg
forgiveness lay dormant believing she lost a dear friend. She
entered the dwelling, sick over what had happened; the old woman’s
friendship had meant so much to her.
“My son,” said Dasodaha, his voice gruff.
“Your skull is as thick as a mighty oak tree!” He shook his head
and grumbled.
“Father, the girl was just protecting
herself from my drunkenness that night. She did not try to escape,
you sent her away before speaking with me. She is my life and now
my wife of my heart. I will keep her!”
Dasodaha sighed with defeat. “My son, your
will is stronger than mine. I have wronged
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you. I see the love in your eyes when you
speak of her.” He shifted his weight, wishing he could shift the
guilt off his shoulders. He could not change his son’s mind anymore
than he could change the colors of the rainbow. But he refused to
relent; surely this will lead to much trouble.
He could not understand, but then, he
remembered his own love for his wife, Leimanipi-Wihopawn. He knew
the power of love over the mind and heart. Prayers to the spirits
were in order for some answers. He must not lose his son’s respect
over this matter.
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TWENTY-FOUR
With Blue Thunder’s help, his wife learned
their language as they walked around the village. He told her that
his ancestors originated in Northeastern Canada. He tutored her in
the traditions and ways of life, and history.
“My husband,” she said, and his heart sang
when she called him that. It took her awhile to accept his
tradition.
“Yes, wife?”
“I’ve read so many horrible stories about
your tribe. In fact a U.S. Army general who had fought with the
Apache described your people as “tigers of the human species.” He
grunted at her comment but she quickly added, “But, I’ve come to
love your race, even though they were cruel to me. I now understand
why. I was raised as a Southern Belle, with nary any hardships in
my life. Until the day our home was raided, my sister raped and my
parents killed, I knew nothing about suffering.”
Blue Thunder sat on a boulder and Licks Too
Much had joined in their walk. He was pleased that the dog grew
very fond of Moon Glow and her of his canine. He was happy that she
finally opened up to him about her family, but he didn’t miss the
pain in her eyes, turning them a darker shade of gold.
“Was that your sister, that day in the
wagon?” He knew the answer but he wanted to hear from her lips.
“Yes.” Her eyes grew misty.
He pulled her onto his lap. “I am sorry, I
meant no harm. My aim was to strike her face and she moved, causing
my blow to hit her stomach. Did I harm the infant?”
Her gazed seemed far away and he suspected
she was recalling that awful day he made the dreadful mistake of
killing innocent people because of his anger and stubbornness. He
nudged her and whispered, “Moon Glow?”
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He had grown accustomed to calling her the
name his aunt had dubbed her.
“No, the baby was fine, but you did kill my
servant who was like family to me.”
He held her close, wishing he could take
back that day, but you cannot put milk back into a mother’s breast,
nor can you change the past. “Can Moon Glow forgive a foolish
Apache?”
She said nothing for a few moments.
“We all do things we regret. I never hated
you for that, well… not for long. You and your people lived here
long before the white man intruded; if I were in you shoes, um,
moccasins, I’d probably have done the same.”
Blue Thunder’s hearts swelled with so much
love. “Yes, we Apaches see ourselves differently than the white
eyes. We face constant struggles to survive. When we raid a
village, we do so from pure necessity, to provide corn for our
families when game is scarce. Most of the time we go on our way,
moving from camp to camp, in pursuit of deer and buffalo,
collecting roots and berries, sometimes planting seeds that we
later return to harvest. That day I was looking for
buffalo when my party came upon many
slaughtered beasts. I was in a fowl and murderous mood. I should
have never attacked your wagon, but I feared more white men means
less meat for my people.”
She put her arms around his neck. “We need
to put that in the past and work on our future being that we have
enough problems in that department.”
“Woman of my heart, you are very wise for
someone so young.”
She snuggled, wiggling her fanny. “So you
think I am a child?” The palm of her hand circled his male nipple,
getting the response she knew she’d get.
“Mmmm?” He tried to reposition himself under
her bottom but he couldn’t hide the fact that his body had changed.
“My soul mate is becoming a…a she wolf,” he rasped.
Melissa giggled. “You mean vixen? Oh!” She
yelped when he quickly lifted her and threw her over his shoulder,
taking her into the deeper part of the woods to show her she
couldn’t toy with him and not be punished. But when he was finished
giving her a good tongue lashing along with his hands, she barely
had enough breath to tell him she’d take her licking anytime, but
she did manage to tease him a little.
“I think my husband slobbers over me too
much. Your dog is a bad influence,” she
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giggled. He called his dog over who has been
napping a distance away. Happy to join the couple, he bounced over
and began licking Melissa’s face, making her laughed more. “Good
boy,” he encouraged the animal. “Since you complain about my
tongue, I think you should feel dog’s to compare.”
She cried uncle. “I give up, Licks Too Much
is worse.”
Blue Thunder laughed richly. “Tell me about
your childhood, my heart. We know one other’s body but we are
stranger when it comes to the knowledge of our past. Are you a
Christian?”
“My parents were non-denominated, but they
believed in many of the Christian beliefs.”
He grunted. “Christians believe Adam was
made of clay, most natives believe Earth Mother was our creator. We
Apaches were “born of the water”. The mother of all Apaches was
Changing Woman, also known as Esdzanadehe, who emerged from the
ocean in a seashell. She survived the great flood in an abalone
shell and wandered the lands as the water receded. Then on top of a
mountain she was impregnated by rays of the sun and gives birth to
a son, called, Killer of Enemies. Then she got impregnated by the
rain and gives birth to a son who is called, Son of Water. When she
grows old, she walks east towards the sun until she meets her
younger self. She then merges with her youthful self and becomes
young again. Therefore, she is born over again and again, from
generation to generation.”
Melissa found that very interesting and
amazing belief for people who lived in the desert but she kept that
option to herself and said, “I won’t even try to pronounce that
name, I still have a hard time with your fathers. But I have given
up, that’s why I simply call him Chief.”
He nodded in compliance and kissed her nose
and commented, “I bet you were a cute child.”
“Are you fishing?”
“Fishing?” His thick dark brows arched in
question.
“It’s white man’s way of saying that a
person is asking about something but beating around the bush.”
He snorted. “You accuse red men of having a
strange tongue. Fishing? Beating a bush?”
“It only means, you’re asking for
information but not really coming out with it; probing.”
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“I was not, as you say fishing or beating
bushes. I simply stated the fact. You must have been a pretty
child.” “Oh, husband. I was just joshing with you; teasing.”
“Oh?” Up went his brows again. “I will have
to remember not to take wife seriously from now on.”
She frowned feeling his hand brush the
strains of hair from her neck. She wore her golden locks in two
braids now, but inside their home, he insisted she wear it
unbridled.
He winked at her broadly. “Only, teasing.
Ha!”
She smacked him playfully and admitted,
“And, I had broken a few young boys’ heart, for your information
husband.”
His impish grin made his eyes twinkle with
mischief. “So you are pulling my leg again.”
“Why…you faker! And I’m not kidding.”
Melissa also learned that the Apache
regarded coyotes, insects and birds as having been human. She had
no doubts that Blue Thunder could have been a coyote, who certainly
knew how to make her howl. Then she told him about her family and
about that horrible day the Northern army raided her house, killing
her parents. She shuddered inwardly at the though and how she
missed her sister and brother whom she had no idea if he still
lived. At that moment her sense of loss was beyond tears.
“It was on my sister’s sixteenth birthday, a
day we should have been rejoicing life, and
instead we buried the dead. My servant Effie
had a fear of going down to the root cellar.” She anticipated his
questions and explained it was a space under the house. “I fell and
twisted my ankle and by the time I was well enough to stand on it,
I went to pick out the potatoes. I heard gun shots but assumed my
papa was practicing his shooting skills so I though nothing of it.
When I reached the door, it was locked. Confused and shocked I
couldn’t understand, there was no reason for it to be bolted. After
a few times trying to get someone’s attention, I cried myself to
sleep only to be awakened by strange sounds and voices. I knew
enough to remain silent. After many hours, my servants released me.
Then I discovered the horror of what had happened. My parent’s were
murdered and my sister was raped.”