CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE SHADES OF GREY #2
“?heyáka?” asked Jay as he inhaled the aroma.
“You know your teas, old man,” Rose replied. “Picked it myself from the banks of the creek behind my cabin. Dried it in the old way.”
“As it should be,” Jay replied, inhaling the tea again. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Don’t thank me,” she replied. “There are rules that we must obey if we are to be true to our ways. Hospitality is one of the most sacred. I would no sooner refuse it to you as I would to a sworn enemy.”
“So, we are not enemies, then?” asked Jay innocently.
“We certainly are not friends, White Bear,” she replied harshly. “Yet we seek the same things.”
“Yet it is in the way in which we seek them that puts us at odds,” Jay countered.
“That is as true now as it was a hundred years ago, Jay Matoskah,” she said. “Had we worked together all those years ago, things might be different on the Rez today.”
“Or we might have made things worse,” Jay replied, taking the cloth bundle from his tea and squeezing it out, then placing it on a saucer. “Far worse.”
Rose studied him closely as she removed her bundle of tea and let it drain a moment before placing it on the same saucer. Jay sipped his slowly, enjoying the aroma as much as the slightly mint flavor. ?heyáka tea was known for its health benefits and refreshing taste.
Rose took a sip of her own tea and gently placed the mug back down on the table, careful not to let it slosh and spill on her tablecloth. Jay was just as cautious.
“Now that the formalities are observed,” Rose said, “I will answer your question. No, I did not summon the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso.
It is like summoning a mountain. No magic either of us possess can accomplish that.
Besides, the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso do not need to be summoned because they are always there. Waiting.”
“Then what awoke them from their slumber?” asked Jay.
“Are you asking for my thoughts or merely thinking aloud?” Rose asked, taking another sip of her tea.
“Both, I suppose,” Jay replied honestly.
“Just because they cannot be summoned does not mean that you cannot speak with them,” Rose said with a slight shrug.
Jay leaned back in his chair and cocked his head to the side as he stared at her.
“So,” he began, “it was you.”
“Not directly,” Rose answered. “When the lawsuit was filed by the Tribal Council against Red Basin, I believed that we were in the right and the law would be on our side.
However, I failed to consider just how deep Red Basin's pockets were. They could pay off inspectors, buy certain judges, and even fabricate geological surveys. They could dispute our claims with enough false evidence to drag it out in court for years, if not decades. Decades they would have to drain as much oil from our lands as possible.”
Jay said nothing. He just wrapped his hands around his mug and let the warmth spread into his fingers as he listened.
“So, I searched the old rituals,” she explained, “the old ways. Yes, I know you do not approve of some of them. Yet, I found the answer not in the dark paths, but in the war ceremonies of the Hotamétaneo’o.”
“You spoke the name of Red Basin into the sacred fire,” Jay said, almost whispering.
Rose smiled.
“And the wind carried their name to our ancestors and the spirits of the land,” Rose added.
“How do we stop them?” Jay asked, frowning.
“We do not,” Rose replied. “They stop when they are finished. We cannot do anything to prevent them from protecting the land from threats to it and to our people.”
Jay slowly lowered his mug to the table.
“So, you could not call them off, even if you wanted to,” Jay said.
“And I do not want to,” Rose said.
“Innocent people have died,” Jay replied softly.
“You talk to me about innocents dying, here in the land of Wounded Knee,” Rose said. “Innocent Lakota have been dying for generations, and nothing has been done about it.”
Jay stopped. She was absolutely right, and he had nothing to say to dispute it. After a moment, he sighed.
“You are not wrong,” he said quietly, “but we cannot justify a tragedy with more tragedies.”
“Has it not occurred to you that the Ma’êstse-hóhkeso would stop if Red Basin ceased its operations on our land?” asked Rose defiantly.
“Yes, it has,” Jay replied. “But Red Basin is a corporation that weighs profits against the cost of human lives. It is not Red Basin that is suffering, but the employees who work for them. Some of whom are Lakota.”
That struck Rose and made her sit back in her chair.
“I had not considered that,” she said, some of the defiance slipping away from her tone.
“Then please consider it,” Jay added. “Work is not easy to find around here, and many of our people work the oil fields just to survive.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, old man,” she said, “there is truth in your words. Harsh truths that I had not considered before. Tell me, White Bear. Who were the Lakota who died?”
“I cannot say for sure,” Jay replied. “I do not have the lists of names of those who were killed. I know Jesse Crow worked security at Red Basin Pump Station number three. He’s alive, but he was hurt badly enough that he is still in the hospital.”
“I never meant for any of our people to be harmed,” she said, shaking her head. “I did not consider the possibility of our people working at those facilities.”
“Even if they were not Lakota,” Jay added, “they did not deserve to die.”
Rose sat in quiet reflection for a moment, sipping her tea and humming as she tapped her foot. Jay recognized the tune. It was an old Lakota song of gratitude to the creator, Wak?á? T?á?ka. After a moment, she looked up.
“You might as well invite your two idiot grandsons in,” she said. “I’ll put on more tea.”
Jay nodded and headed for the front door. He opened the screen door and motioned for Greyeagle and Kade to come inside. As they walked up onto the porch, Jay stopped them briefly.
“Remember your manners,” he said quietly. “She’s inviting you in for tea. Do not break the rules of hospitality.”
“Of course not, grandfather,” Greyeagle said.
Greyeagle and Jay both looked at Kade.
“What?” he asked innocently. “I’ll behave. Promise.”
Jay raised one eyebrow, and Greyeagle stifled a chuckle.
“Dick,” Kade said, elbowing Greyeagle.
“I mean both of you,” Jay admonished. “I know how you two are together.”
Greyeagle and Kade exchanged amused looks, and Jay scowled.
“I mean it,” Jay said. “We do not need to make an enemy here. We have enough of those as it is.”
Kade held up his hands in mock surrender.
“We’ll be good,” Kade said, grinning. “We promise.”
Jay rubbed the bridge of his nose, then led them inside.
Jay took his seat back at the table, and Kade sat on the floor to Jay’s left while Greyeagle sat to his right.
They knew better than to take the empty chair while Rose was putting on more water.
Rose placed the teapot back on the fire and turned around.
“Well, at least your puppies know not to take an old woman’s chair,” she said.
After a few minutes, she served the tea, pouring for Kade and Greyeagle last. She added a bundle of tea to each cup and sat back in her chair, waiting for it to steep. Kade sniffed his tea and smiled.
“Hey, I remember this stuff,” Kade said, smiling. “Mom used to make it for us in the winter to keep us from getting sick.”
“I remember,” Greyeagle said, smiling at his brother. “I also remember that song she used to sing when she prepared it.”
“The Lakota Lullaby,” Jay said, smiling sadly. “Who do you think taught her that song?”
Rose watched the moment pass between them. A shared memory. A shared pain of loss. She didn’t comment. For a brief moment, she felt like she was intruding in her own home. Then, she leaned down and smacked Kade in the back of the head.
“Hey!” Kade said, rubbing the spot.
Then she smacked Greyeagle too.