December 1 - December 24, 1998

CHAPTER XVIV

DOGGY BAG

"Juanita rode all the way to Winslow with those pots, the ones that didn't get broken, in her lap." Dewey told Julia as they moved with the line of people past the food-laden tables in Ponsi Hall.

As they went, the Hopi women responsible for preparing the banquet served turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, cranberry sauce, piki, and samplings from several other traditional Hopi dishes.

"The pots are on display in my china hutch," Julia said. "Although when he was alive, Paco kept them packed away; until the end, that is. In the end, he wanted them with him in his hospital room."

An ancient and grinning Hopi woman ladled gravy over Julia's sliced turkey. Julia felt very hungry. She could see Jay and Rose seated at the end of one of the long tables. They were already eating. Jay was flirting with Rose, who seemed to be enjoying his attentions, albeit warily. Julia had never seen Jay this relaxed.

"Same china hutch where you keep Paco's ashes?" Dewey said.

Julia nodded. How did he know?

"Sal mentioned it," Dewey said. "We've talked many times since Paco's illness, too."

"What do you think it was like for Sal and Juanita at first?" Julia said.

"Uncomfortable. They hardly knew each other. On First Mesa, the whole month Sal had been here, they hadn't exchanged ten words."

"Did Juanita want to come back to the Mesa right way?"

"Not then. Her family hated whites. There was no going back. They got married a few days later, then made the drive back to New York. By Christmastime, Paco was on the way."

Julia followed Dewey to a pair of unoccupied seats at a table across the room from Jay and Rose. A young Hopi girl, about twelve or thirteen years old, passed by Dewey and Julia and filled their paper cups with Sprite.

"Thanks," Julia said.

The girl grinned. Dewey winked at her.

"Were Sal and Juanita ever happy?" Julia said.

"Yeah, I believe they were for a long time, considering that falling in love with each other made both their futures take such unexpected turns."

"Like Sal felt he had no choice but to give up the plan of making the study of Hopi culture his life’s work."

Dewey nodded. "Yeah. And Juanita, who was never as opposed to whites as the rest of her family, still never bargained for living within a white community, especially a community like Brooklyn. She never found a way to keep her life in balance out there according to Hopi ways and customs. But more than that, much more than even that, she missed, longed for, First Mesa."

"It must've been hard for her."

"It was impossible. That's why she eventually left Paco and Sal--"

"Without warning, without a word of explanation," Julia said. "One morning she was there fixing breakfast, by evening she had vanished."

"She had no warning herself. She didn't even know what gave her the courage that particular day. She told me there was nothing different about it. She didn't suddenly love them any less. Her love for both her husband and son was fierce. Maybe too fierce. That’s why she stayed with them as long as she did. But on that day, she realized she just couldn't live that life another minute."

"Did Juanita ever regret leaving them?"

"Juanita regretted everything. Her first year back, I helped her pack to return to Paco and Sal half a dozen times. Finally, when she started to believe in the Hopi Way again, once her foot was firmly on that path, she found some peace. We were married then. We had many content years together. We have a son and a daughter."

"Really. Then Paco has a half-brother and sister."

"His name is Nick (after your Uncle Nick, I think, who Juanita was very fond of). Nick lives off the reservation much of the time, because he and my daughter Nina own a crafts gallery in Sedona. I spend a lot of time with Nick and Nina over there."

"Do they know about Paco?"

"They do. During the bone marrow search they were tested, too."

Julia felt relieved. They never had found a match, but at least now she felt as though everything that could be done on that score, had been done. "I'd like to come to Sedona and visit some time."

"We'd like that, too."

"So what about you and Sal?"

"Everything that happened was so long ago . . . In a way, I was responsible for the outcome of what happened. If only I hadn't ordered them off the mesa that day . . . The whole thing might've just blown over, the way things like that sometimes do."

"But then there might've never been a Paco."

"He really was a hell of a kid, I guess, eh?"

"He was."

Dewey cut his remaining slice of turkey into smaller chunks and said, "Juanita did have more time with her beloved Unnawiy. They had that summer together when she returned to the Mesa, and the following winter and most of the spring before he passed on. To see one, was to see the other."

Julia felt quite moved. "Is it possible that the brown puppy we saw out there today is at least a descendant of Unnawiy?"

"Could be, I guess," Dewey said.

Julia wanted to think he was.

Dewey polished off the last of the turkey on his plate. "Sal taught me to drive, you know."

"I didn't," Julia said.

"He also taught me English, and about baseball, and a crazy card game called May I."

Julia grinned. "Then he really did consider you part of his clan." Julia swallowed her last morsel of piki.

Dewey dunked the piki he had left into the pool of gravy on his plate. "In the journal," he said, swallowing a bite, "you read that Sal was to become a Hopi, part of my clan."

"Yes."

"In my heart, I eventually realized Sal always was, always will be. Even if it's not official. That makes you part of my clan, too. "

Julia liked the idea.

A few moments later, she watched as Dewey returned from the serving table with another plate of food. Rather than reclaiming his chair, he put the plate in front of Julia and bent to confidentially say, "Thought you might need a doggy bag."

(to be continued)

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