People of the Sea(141)
“I discovered that my soul was like a hide bag, and that my thoughts, regrets and fears were like slices of meat filling the bag. If you leave such a bag for a long time, the contents will rot. So I turned the bag upside down and emptied it into the blackness of the Land of the Dead.”
“And that helped?”
“Yes. You see, I hadn’t fully learned the teachings of my friend, Heron, during my life. Teachings about the One, and Nothingness, and Emptiness. So I was forced to grapple with them after I died. Just as you are grappling now, Boy.”
“But what did you learn?”
“I learned that only when I had become Empty, could I stop hurting.”
“I’d like to make this putrid body empty, Man. To free my soul! Nothing would make me happier. But I don’t know how to get out now that I’m here. Set me free, Man. Please. I can’t stand this anymore!”
“If you want to be free, Boy, you must learn to empty your soul. To make yourself as empty as Above-Old-Man’s bloodless heart.”
Thirty-three
Kestrel lay curled behind Sunchaser on the rock, drifting in and out of tortured dreams where she found herself running madly for the Pinyon Bark Trails crossing—with Tannin’s moccasins pounding behind her.
The temperature had dropped dramatically after sunset, and the night had a bitter bite. She’d tied a hide around Sunchaser’s bare shoulders and rolled herself and Cloud Girl in another.
Her daughter slept soundly at Kestrel’s back, with her head pillowed on Helper’s black tail. The dog had climbed up on the rock, shivering and wagging its tail pathetically. Kestrel had turned the elk hide sideways so she could cover Helper as well as herself and her daughter. It meant that she had only her dress between the chill granite and her skin. Cold seeped up to nip at her, but not unbearably.
She had been afraid to demolish Sunchaser’s sweat lodge, fearing they might need it later tonight. Moonlit clouds sped across the sky like ghosts racing for cover. Behind them, a dark haze had gobbled up the glimmers of Mother Ocean.
“That’s not rain, is it?” Kestrel murmured anxiously.
The mammoth cow that lay at the base of the rock lifted her head. Her eyes glinted in the gloom. She made a soft sound and flapped one ear. An icy grass-scented breeze fanned Kestrel. The little calf had moved farther out beyond the aspen grove, planting himself in a thick bed of ferns. The darkness outlined his auburn-haired body.
“I’m sorry I woke you, Mother,” Kestrel whispered. “You can go back to sleep. Sunchaser’s still Dreaming.”
The cow used the tip of her trunk to reach the thick fringe of grass around the front of the rock, where she ripped up a handful, then put it in her mouth and chewed, the grinding sound loud in the night.
With her toes, Kestrel pulled the bottom of the elk hide up and folded it under so that she could tuck her cold feet into the niche.
As she closed her eyes, dreams flitted across her soul… images flaring and dying in a single instant.
Kestrel heard Sunchaser calling her. His deep voice rang with such urgency that she thought he’d awakened, but when she sat up to stare at him, she found him still Dreaming, his body silhouetted against the backdrop of green leaves and white tree trunks. His expressionless face, with its deep-set eyes, hadn’t changed. White hair still bordered his high cheekbones. His braid hung over his left shoulder.
Kestrel closed her eyes again, and his voice grew louder
“Kestrel? Kestrel? Can you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you…”
He kept calling, and she followed his voice and found herself trotting along a narrow dirt path through a magnificent wind-sculpted land. An infinity of canyons cut this desert to ribbons, leaving red ridges and needles of orange sandstone to slice the brilliant blue of Brother Sky. No birds soared on the thermals or perched on the rocks. No wind blew. An unnatural silence and heat gripped this place. Sweat ran down her chest, trickling between her breasts. Her long hair danced in the gusts of searing wind. The seashells on her dress clicked melodiously as her feet thudded on the dry soil. In the distance, jumbles of rounded rocks dotted the desert, like balls rolled into place and frozen by’ the gods. Cactus bloomed at the base of the outcrops, creating fringes of yellow. The closer she came to the rocks, the louder Sunchaser’s voice became. She could feel it pounding against the suffocating air.
“Sunchaser?” she called. “Where are you? I can’t see you!”
“Kestrel… Kestrel… I’m here. Over here.”
She crested a low rise and plunged down the other side into a tangle of trails. She slid to a stop. Dust spirals coiled into existence, twining toward the sky, then guttering out and weakly splashing Kestrel with grains of sand. Sunchaser’s voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. She scanned the landscape, her gaze following the bone-dry drainages and sweeping up the red spires.