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Kiss of the Bees
First Chapter
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They say it happened long ago that the whole world was covered with
water. I'itoi-- Elder Brother-- was floating around in the basket
which he had made. After a time, Great Spirit came out of his basket
and looked around. Everything was still covered with water, so I'itoi
made himself larger and larger until shuhthagi-- the water-- reached
only to his knees.
Then, while I'itoi was walking around in the water, he heard someone
call. At first he paid no attention, but when the call came the
fourth time, Elder Brother went to see who was shouting. And so
I'itoi found Jeweth Mahkai-- Earth Medicine Man-- rejoicing because
he was the first one to come out of the water.
Elder Brother said, "This is not true." He explained that he himself
was first, but Jeweth Mahkai was stubborn and insisted that he was
first.
Now I'itoi and Earth Medicine Man, as they were talking, were
standing in the south. They started toward the west. As they were
going through the water-- because there was as yet very little land--
they heard someone else shouting.
Ban-- Coyote-- was the one who was making all the noise. I'itoi went
toward the sound, but Elder Brother went one way, and Ban went
another. And so they passed each other. Coyote was shouting that he
was the very first one out of the water and that he was all alone in
the world.
I'itoi called to Ban, and at last they came together. Elder Brother
explained to Coyote that he was not the first. And then the three--
Great Spirit, Earth Medicine Man, and Coyote-- started north
together. As they went over the mud, I'itoi saw some very small
tracks.
Elder Brother said, "There must be somebody else around." Then they
heard another voice calling. It was Bitokoi-- Big Black Beetle--
which the Mil-gahn, the Whites, call stinkbug. Bitokoi told I'itoi
that he was the very first to come out of the water. I'itoi did not
even bother to answer him.
And then the four-- Elder Brother, Earth Medicine Man, Coyote, and
Big Black Beetle-- went on together toward the east because, as you
remember, nawoj, my friend, all things in nature go in fours.
JUNE 1996
Dolores Lanita Walker's slender brown legs glistened with sweat as
she pumped the mountain bike along the narrow strip of pavement that
led from her parents' house in Gates Pass to the Arizona Sonora
Desert Museum several miles away. Lani wasn't due at her job at the
concession stand until 9 A.M., but by going in early she had talked
her way into being allowed to help with some of the other duties.
About a mile or so from the entrance, she came upon the artist with
his Subaru wagon parked off on the side of the road. He had been
there every morning for a week now, standing in front of an easel or
sitting on a folding chair, pad in hand, sketching away as she came
whizzing past with her long hair flying out behind her like a fine
black cape. In the intervening days they had grown accustomed to
seeing one another.
The man had been the first to wave, but now she did, too. "How's it
going?" he had asked her each morning after the first one or two.
"Fine," she'd answer, pumping hard to gain speed before the next
little lump of hill.
"Come back when you can stay longer," he'd call after her. Lani would
grin and nod and keep going.
This morning, though, he waved her down. "Got a minute?" he asked.
She pulled off the shoulder of the road. "Is something the matter?" she asked.
"No. I just wanted to show you something." He opened a sketch pad and
held it up so Lani could see it. The picture took her breath away. It
was a vivid color-pencil drawing of her, riding through the sunlight
with the long early-morning shadows stretching out before her and
with her hair floating on air behind her.
"That's very good," she said. "It really does look like me."
The man smiled. "It is you," he said. "But then, I've had plenty of
time to practice."
Lani stood for a moment studying the picture. Her parents' twentieth
wedding anniversary was coming up soon, in less than a week.
Instinctively she knew that this picture, framed, would make the
perfect anniversary present for them.
"How much would it cost to buy something like this?" she asked,
wondering how far her first paycheck from the museum would stretch.
"It's not for sale," the man said.
Lani looked away, masking her disappointment with downcast eyes. "But
I might consider trading for it," he added a moment later.
Lani brightened instantly. "Trading?" she asked. "Really?" But then
disappointment settled in again. She was sixteen years old. What
would she have to trade that this man might want?
"You're an Indian, aren't you?" he asked. Shyly, Lani nodded. "But
you live here. In Tucson, I mean. Not on a reservation. "
Lani nodded again. It didn't seem necessary to explain to this man
that she was adopted and that her parents were Anglos. It was none of
his business.
"I've tried going out to the reservation to paint several times," he
told her, "but the people seem to be really suspicious. If you'd
consider posing for me, just for half an hour or so some morning, I'd
give you this one for free."
"For free? Really?"
"Sure. "
Lani didn't have to think very long. "When would you like to do it?" she asked.
"Tomorrow morning?"
"That would work," Lani said, "but I'd have to come by about half an
hour earlier than this, otherwise I'll be late for work."
The man nodded. "That's fine," he said. "I'll be here. And could I
ask a favor?"
Lani, getting back on her bike, paused and gave him a questioning
look. "What's that?"
"Could you wear something that's sort of... well, you know"-- he
shrugged uncomfortably-- "something that looks Indian?"
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