Plant Them Deep Page 14

  Rose took her turn. “We’ve never said that only native plants had to be used. But it would be wise to protect our resources by encouraging the growth and reintroduction of plants that are native to our area. Those who failed in their attempt to reclaim certain areas need to learn from their mistakes. It’s even more expensive and time-consuming to use the wrong plants, and have them die when they’re no longer cared for and watered regularly.”

  “The power plants have tried to use native plants, but as most of us know, they do not replant well,” Curtis countered without waiting to be recognized. “Most die once disturbed.”

  “This is where special knowledge is necessary,” Rose added. “We have varieties within varieties. It’s a matter of knowing what plant to choose for the new conditions. Lamb’s-quarter, for example, is a kind of goosefoot. It grows tall and needs lots of water. Galleta grass, on the other hand, is tough. It can survive no matter how dry it gets.”

  An elderly Navajo at the back of the room stood up and waited to be called upon. “The Anglo companies made us a promise when they began to strip-mine. They said they’d put things back the way they were when they were through mining. Now the only things that grow in the land they supposedly reclaimed is snakeweed that poisons livestock, or cheatgrass that hurts them when they eat. Something has to be done.”

  “So why can’t more suitable native plants, like the ones the Plant Watcher suggested, be introduced to the areas that need to be replanted?” a young Navajo woman sitting in one of the front seats suggested.

  “The plants aren’t always available, for one,” Largo said.

  “That’s true,” Rose replied. “It may take time to find the right plants. But if we cultivate these areas carefully by choosing native plants that will feed our animals, and, in turn, ourselves, we would be doing the tribe a great service as well as repairing the damage that has been done.”

  As Rose sat down, she saw the cold look Largo gave her. She wanted to be angry with him in return, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Life was hard for those like Largo who had lost contact with their heritage and roots. The color of their skin and their features marked them as Navajo, but their minds told them they were Anglo. Theirs was the hardest road to follow. They wanted to be part of a culture that would never fully accept them.

  The discussion went on for another hour, but when the meeting finally ended, Rose felt satisfied that she’d made her point clear. After saying good-bye to her friends, she walked slowly to her truck and slipped behind the driver’s wheel. Tired and ready to go home, she reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of Willie—Professor Hoff—speaking to Maria Poyer.

  Because he was neither a Navajo nor a member of that chapter, he could not actively participate in chapter house business unless invited to do so.

  Intrigued, she watched them for a moment. Their conversation seemed very intent. Then Maria turned and walked to a tan truck, much like the one that had followed her twice before.

  As Maria got under way. Rose climbed back out of the truck, and unable to suppress the instinct that urged her to investigate, she studied the tire tracks left by Maria’s truck.

  She pulled out the sketch that she carried in her purse. The impressions appeared similar to the one in her drawing, down to the little diamond shapes on the treads and the pairs of diagonal marks in alternating rows. Of course, that alone didn’t really prove anything. The truth was that there were at least three other tan pickups in the parking area. She checked the tires of the closest one and found similar tread marks. Rose wrote down the brand name and number codes which would identify a specific tire type. But the coincidence of finding the right combination of color and tread mark on the truck Maria drove made her wonder. Rose made a mental note to watch Maria, and maybe even Professor Hoff, more closely from now on.

  Suddenly realizing what time it was. Rose hurried back to her truck and drove quickly to the hospital. It was late and undoubtedly past visiting hours, but with luck, they’d let her come in for a short visit—if Lena wasn’t already asleep.

  At the hospital, Rose walked purposefully down the hallway. The staff didn’t generally stop anyone who appeared to belong there. Moments later, she reached Lena’s room and went inside.

  Lena was awake, and the television set was on, but she was staring absently across the room. Hearing Rose approach, Lena turned her head and gave her a weak smile. “I’m glad you came. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  “I’m here,” Rose said quietly, sitting next to Lena’s bed. “I can’t tell you how much I miss you.” Rose told her about the meeting she’d just attended. “I just couldn’t believe that man, actually telling people that we were working close together when he hadn’t even seen me since he got the job.”

  “Now he’s going to be angry, and you can be certain that he’ll do his best to discredit you.”

  “Perhaps, but he’ll have to regain some credibility after tonight, and I’ll fight him every step of the way.” Rose looked at Lena and, in her heart, knew that her friend was growing worse instead of better. Fear crept into her heart, but she tried her best to push it back and not let it show. “And you have to get well, old friend. I miss you and I need you to help me fight for the Plant People.”

  Lena nodded wearily. “I’m just so tired lately.”

  “Then maybe you should rest,” Rose said, standing up. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Before you go … have you seen Cháala?” she asked using the Navajo name for Charlie.

  Rose knew she was talking about Charlie Dodge. Lena and he were good friends. “Not today. Why?”

  “The other day when he visited, he promised to come back today with a some ‘gray knotted medicine.’ The doctors said I could have some. They call it horehound and they seemed to think it was okay if I made a tea from it.”

  “Maybe he’s had problems finding it.”

  “Maybe so,” Lena said slowly. “But that old horse always keeps his word. If he said he’d come by, he would have, even empty-handed.”

  Rose nodded. Lena was right.

  “He said he was going to his favorite collection site—the one over by Teec Nos Pos.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. If I remember correctly, his old truck is not in very good condition. He may be stuck someplace,” she said with a sigh, “or have run out of gas and had to hike back.”

  Lena nodded, then closed her eyes. “I’m glad you came.”

  Rose turned the television set off and slipped out of the room. Now she had two friends to worry about. They both knew Charlie, and he would have come if he’d been physically able to make it at all. That was just the way he was, and it was unfortunate that this had happened now, because Lena didn’t need one more thing to worry about.

  By the time Rose arrived home, it was nearly ten. Two met her at the back door, and she was glad for his company.

  “Come on, old dog. It’s just you and me tonight,” she said, letting him inside first. This time, before she’d taken more than a step into the kitchen, she turned and locked the door.

  Still very worried about Lena and Charlie, Rose didn’t sleep very well at all that night. She tossed and turned so much, throwing off the covers, then gathering them up again, that Two finally jumped off her bed, choosing to lie on the floor instead.

  At sunrise, she went outside and said her prayers to the dawn. Then she came back inside and fixed herself some breakfast. This was her favorite meal of the day, and with no one else to cook for, she decided to indulge herself. While a fresh pot of tea was brewing, she fixed scrambled eggs with sausage, wrapped it in a homemade tortilla, then smothered it all with salsa and cheese.

  This morning, she’d eat a good meal without rushing, then she’d go out and find Charlie. She figured she’d catch him beside the road somewhere between Shiprock and Teec Nos Pos, just across the state line in Arizona, trying to fix his truck—which he usually did quite well. As he’d told her on more than one o
ccasion, he knew his truck better than some men knew their wives.

  It wasn’t even seven-thirty when she heard someone pull up the driveway. She glanced outside through the kitchen window and saw the outline of a man she didn’t recognize sitting in a truck. She tried to catch a clear glimpse of the man’s face, but she wasn’t able to see him clearly until he stepped down from the cab and leaned against the door, waiting.

  It was Ben Tso. Rose hurried to the porch and invited him inside. She had nothing but respect for the elderly hataalii. Through the years he had learned many Sings, and he was one of the most trusted medicine men in the Southwest.

  “Come in, old friend. What brings you here this morning?”

  “I needed to talk to you in private.”

  “Then come into the kitchen. Would you like some breakfast?”

  He smelled the fresh herbal tea, glanced at the food on her plate, and nodded. “I really would, thank you very much. I haven’t eaten since early yesterday. I’ve had to travel to see several patients.”

  Rose smiled. She loved cooking for people, and the truth was she’d missed it this morning. She fixed him a breakfast burrito, then brought out some fry bread she’d warmed in the oven, placing it beside a dish of butter.

  “This is a feast! I didn’t mean to put you to so much trouble,” Ben said.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” She waited until he had eaten the burrito and was on his second cup of tea before speaking again. “Now tell me what’s brought you here today.”

  “Yesterday I went to a collection site that has always been lucky for me. I needed to find ‘frog tobacco’ to make a tea for a patient who was saved from drowning. But I wasn’t able to find the plant anywhere. After checking another site where I’d found it before and still coming up empty-handed, I spoke to several other hataaliis. No one has been able to find it anywhere, except for a few immature plants too small to use. Not even the new traditionalist singer had any to sell.”

  “Let me check my reports.” Rose went into the next room and brought out her notes. They were mostly scribbled on notebook paper, but after a moment she looked up. “I’m sorry, I haven’t come across any collection sites for it, and neither have any of the Plant Watchers.”

  He nodded, then exhaled softly. “There used to be some plants over by Twin Lakes, but when I went to search this time I could see that someone had beaten me to it. Several plants were dead—dug up and left to rot in the sun—but there were twice as many holes as plants, so whoever dug them up took an equal number with him.” He paused. “I haven’t seen anyone use a GI shovel like that since I was a Marine on Okinawa during the war—but that’s exactly what was used to dig up the plants.”

  “I know what you’re talking about. I’ve found identical marks at other collection sites all over the Four Corners.”

  Ben paused for a long time. Finally, he looked up. “You suggested that we share the information about our collection sites with you. Well, those of us who met on Beautiful Mountain gathered together again last night at your son’s hogan and we decided on a plan. We want you to act as a primary storehouse of information—keeping the exact locations of the collection sites a secret. Then, when one of us needs something, we could come to you and you could get it for us. That way the locations would never be compromised, and we would all still share the blessing the Plant People bring.”

  “And all have agreed?”

  “Not all. The new traditionalist didn’t, but the rest of us in this area are ready to give you the location of the sites, if you’ll agree.”

  Rose nodded. “I will report the availability of the plants—or their scarcity—to the council, but I will withhold the location of the collection sites all of you give me.”

  “Good.” He reached into his pocket and gave her four lists. “These are the sites. I have all of them, but I didn’t look at any of the lists except for my own. Only you will have all the knowledge.”

  Rose understood the faith they’d placed in her and was determined not to let them down. “I will make it a point to search for ‘frog tobacco.’ If I find any, I will let you know.”

  Ben finished his tea and, thanking her, stood. “Your son wanted me to tell you that the hand trembler will go to the hospital today.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” Rose said.

  “I better get started. I have a lot of patients to see today.” Ben headed to the door, then stopped. “Have you seen any ‘salt thin’?”

  She shook her head. “But it’s one of the Plant People I’ve been trying hard to find. Do you need it right away for a patient?”

  “No, but I was told that it’s getting quite scarce. I like to have some on hand for people who get burns, so if you find it, just send word to me.”

  After Ben left, Rose walked outside, locking the door behind her, and went to her truck. Maybe Charlie, once she found him, would be able to tell her about “frog tobacco” and “salt thin.” He knew each of the Plant People far better than she did.

  After patting the dog on the head, she climbed into the truck. Rose had just started the engine when she saw Herman Cloud pulling into the driveway. She sighed, frustrated by what would undoubtedly be another delay. Although she was always glad to see Herman, tracking down Charlie wouldn’t be easy, and she’d have to get going soon.

  Herman climbed out of his own pickup and came over, leaning into her passenger’s side window. “Where are you off to now? Can you use company?”

  Rose considered it, then nodded. “Actually, I would like some companionship. I’m going over to check some sites between Beclabito and Teec Nos Pos this morning,” she said, and explained.

  “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

  Rose exhaled softly. “That may be a good thing. I have to search for ‘salt thin’ and ‘frog tobacco.’ Some of our hataaliis are looking for it.”

  “I know both of those plants. I can help and save you some time.”

  “Good. Hop in my truck and we’ll get going.”

  As Rose drove them east toward the highway, she enjoyed the cool desert morning air that came through her open window. She loved early morning drives in June. Later, the day could get spectacularly hot, but the morning temperatures were always pleasant and invariably brightened her mood.

  “I spoke to the nurses at the hospital this morning. They said that there’s no change in our friend’s condition,” Herman said after they’d traveled a few miles.

  Rose nodded. “I saw her last night, and I’m very worried. Once we find Cháala, I want to bring him by quickly. I think seeing him again will make her feel better. She’s always had special feelings for him.”

  Herman smiled and nodded. “I know, and I think he does for her too, but he’s not the kind to get married. Never was. He likes his lifestyle too much—no attachments, comes and goes as he pleases. I heard he has a new, larger trailer now too.”

  “It sounds like you envy him just a little bit,” Rose said, eyebrows up.

  He laughed. “Most men do,” he answered, then grew serious. “But I love the family I still have. I’m glad every day of my life that I have those boys … men, now.” He reached for the radio and turned it on, finding the Navajo music station.

  Fifteen minutes later, cruising down the highway, Rose tensed, an odd feeling she couldn’t shake creeping slowly over her. Alert and uneasy, she turned off the radio, not wanting any distractions.

  Herman sat up. “Is something wrong?”

  “I thought I heard a funny noise. Hush and listen.”

  For several minutes all they heard was the hum of tires on the road. Then it came again, a soft rattling sound. She recognized it in an instant. “Don’t move, it’s close. I can feel it in my bones. I just don’t know where it is.”

  “Where what is?” He listened, and they heard the sound again. “Never mind,” he whispered. “I recognize it.”

  “Only one thing makes a dry rattling sound like that—a rattlesnake.” She pulled slowly over onto the sh
oulder of the road. “And if it’s rattling, it feels threatened and is telling us to watch out because it’s ready to strike.”

  THIRTEEN

  Rose switched off the ignition and then sat very still. They had just lifted their feet up onto the seat and were all hunched up. “Try to pinpoint its location without moving.”

  “I’m not even breathing,” Herman whispered back.

  Rose listened, but now there was no sound except the ticking of cooling metal from the engine. Then, as she shifted in her seat, she heard it moving again. “I think it’s behind my seat in that storage area somewhere.”

  “Then stay still. Let me see if I can find out exactly where it is.” Moving slowly, he unbuckled his seat belt and swung around, getting onto his knees with a creaky groan. “I’m getting way too old for this.” Then he peered over the back of the bench seat. “It’s coiled at the moment, directly behind you, but it can’t strike at anything, not from where it is now. Open the door and jump out quickly.”

  Rose didn’t hesitate. Opening the door quickly, she scrambled out and stepped away from the cab, turning around to watch for the snake. Herman had gone out his door at the same time, and now hurried around to join her.

  “How on earth did that thing get inside my truck?” she managed.

  “There’s no way it could have crawled into the cab by itself,” Herman said. “Not unless you left the door open all night and put in a ramp for it to use. I know you didn’t park against a hill or under a large tree branch.”

  Rose’s eyes widened in horror. “Someone put that thing in there on purpose!”