Wild Desire

Her attention was drawn to the elderly man again. He was chanting and shaking rattles over Pure Blossom. She gathered that this was the “singer” whom Runner had spoken about.

Raptly, she watched the ceremony, finding it beautiful and intriguing, as the “singer” sat down beside Pure Blossom and began creating a sand painting on the floor close to her.

Runner leaned closer to Stephanie. “The creation of the sand painting by the ‘singer’ is an integral part of the healing ceremony,” he said in a low voice. “Watch what he draws—it will have much meaning for Pure Blossom’s recovery. We believe the drawings created by our ‘singers’ are sacred, and so they must be destroyed within twelve hours.”

“I have so much to learn about your customs,” Stephanie said, leaning closer to him.

“And a lifetime in which to learn them,” he whispered back, smiling at her.

She trembled warmly inside as he took one of her hands and held o

nto it as they continued to watch the performance of sand painting, Pure Blossom lying quietly, her eyes still closed.

Stephanie was stunned by the beauty of the drawings as the “singer” allowed colored sand, pollen, powdered roots and stone to sift out of his hand to create the pictures. Runner leaned close and began explaining the meaning behind that which the “singer” was drawing. He told her that bears were thought by the Navaho to possess healing powers. They appeared in each of the quadrants of this sand painting, a design created to restore Pure Blossom’s health.

He told her that the Navaho assigned each direction a color and a power. The east was associated with white lightning, the south with blue sky, the west with yellow sun, and the north with black storm clouds.

“The inner circles of the center of the painting represent the home of the bears,” Runner continued in a low whisper to Stephanie.

The ceremony continued for some time, then Stephanie gasped with surprise when Pure Blossom’s clothes were removed and the “singer” began smoothing something across her body.

“What is that?” Stephanie asked, feeling uncomfortable with Pure Blossom’s nudity. “What is the ‘singer’ using?”

“My sister’s frail body is being rubbed with sand from a bear’s paw print to give her strength,” Runner whispered back.

A hushed silence fell throughout the hogan as the “singer” then knelt down beside Pure Blossom and began feeding her something; she fought back and began choking on the sticky substance.

Stephanie could hardly hold herself back from running to the elderly man to pull him away from Pure Blossom as he continued forcing a strange sort of sticky medicine into her mouth. Yet she settled back and watched, wide-eyed, as Pure Blossom slowly came awake and willingly ate what was being offered her.

“The ‘singer’ has brought her from her sleep,” Runner said, sighing heavily. He glanced over at his mother, whose tears of relief were silver on her face.

He looked at his father, seeing his eyes also brim with tears.

He looked over at Gray Moon, seeing him heave a deep sigh of relief, and realizing that here was a man who cared more for Pure Blossom than perhaps even Gray Moon realized. His love was in his eyes.

“I’m so happy that she is going to be all right,” Stephanie said, feeling herself finally relaxing. “But what is that he fed her to cause her to come around?”

“He fed my sister digested honey from the intestines of a bear,” Runner said matter-of-factly.

Stephanie almost gagged. “Do you mean . . . a . . . dead bear?” she said, shuddering.

“A very dead bear,” Runner said, smiling over at her.

“Well, at least it worked.” Stephanie said, smiling awkwardly over at him.

“Not only what she was fed caused her recovery, but also the sacred sand painting and the singing of the People,” Runner said, taking her elbow and helping her to her feet as everyone else rose and went to stand over Pure Blossom.

The “singer” drew a blanket up to Pure Blossom’s chin, bent over and brushed away his painting and gathered up his mixture of healing products, then left.

The singing outside stopped, replaced by loud chants and shouts of happiness. Stephanie smiled to herself, knowing that the “singer” had spread the good news of Pure Blossom’s recovery.

She stood back and watched as Pure Blossom’s family took turns hugging, kissing, and holding her. Then she knelt down beside the bed and held Pure Blossom’s slight body within her own arms.

“I’m so glad you are going to be all right,” she said, her voice breaking.

When Pure Blossom’s tiny, frail arms twined around Stephanie’s neck and returned her hug, Stephanie knew that everything would be healed between them. Pure Blossom did not hold Stephanie accountable for Adam’s ugly deeds.

“Be happy with my brother,” Pure Blossom whispered into Stephanie’s ear as she clung to her. “Fill his hogan with your sweetness.”