Chapter Six
Where is the café, and what is this place?” Tina asked when they passed a faded sign that said Trade Days in big letters and The Last Sunday of the Month underneath in smaller ones. Directions on how to find it one mile off Loco Road were on a third line.
“It’s kind of like a swap meet, only it’s basically handmade Navajo items and food made by my friends, and the place where we will eat is just up ahead a little ways,” Walker answered when he made a right turn onto a dirt road and slowed down.
The land seemed to get even flatter, with nothing to see but a few yucca plants and a sparse showing of something that later in the year would turn into tumbleweeds.
Then, out of nowhere, a few houses appeared with at least twenty open-face stalls over to the east side of the small community.
“Is this a town or what?”
“It’s just a little community between Bard and San Jon.
If you know where to go, there are several of them scattered about the state.
Folks here call it Trade Days, but there’s no post office or anything other than the Native American folks who live here.
This is where I was born and lived until I was a year old. ”
“I don’t see a café,” Tina said, “but I do remember times when you went off to stay with your grandmother for a little while. Is this where she lives?”
“I never said we were going to a café. I said that I knew a place that served good food,” Walker answered. “My grandmother is cooking for us.” He parked his truck in front of one of the small houses.
They were out of the vehicle and walking toward the porch when a tall, thin lady with only a little white showing in her dark hair came out the door. She waved with one hand and shaded her face with the other. “Come in, my grandson. Food is ready,” she called out.
“I had no idea that this was even here. This is really where you grew up?” Tina whispered.
“Until I was a year old and my father died at a rodeo event,” he answered.
“Even though Bull didn’t like it, my mother still brought me over here to stay with my análí asdz awhile each summer and for our community’s ceremonies.
Mama said that I should know the language and the culture.
Shinálí means paternal grandmother, but she will speak English while we are here.
Unless she is angry—then her eyes will warn us before she ever begins to talk in Diné. ”
“So I watch her eyes?”
“I’ll do that. You just be you.”
“I remember when you got all excited about going to see your grandmother when we were kids,” she said as she opened the truck door and got out. “Do I hug her? What’s the protocol?”
“This morning, you should show respect by letting her take the first bite of food. But also, she does not believe in wasting food, so clean your plate,” he answered. “Everything she makes is so good.”
Tina was more nervous about walking up onto the porch of the small house than she had been when she climbed the Tomorrow Tree and gazed across the street at Mae and Cleo’s place.
That day, she’d been trying to draw up enough courage to knock on the door.
Today, she sure wished that Walker had told her where they were going so that she wouldn’t embarrass him.
And at the very least was wearing something other than faded jeans and a T-shirt.
“You know you are in big trouble when we leave, don’t you?” she whispered.
“By the end of the day, you will be begging me to bring you back here every week or two.”
“We’ll see,” she said out the corner of her mouth, and pasted on a smile that she hoped at least looked a little bit genuine.
A slight breeze rattled the wind chimes made with old spoons and hanging between the porch posts.
The weathered house needed a new coat of paint, but the two turquoise blue rocking chairs looked inviting.
Tina counted three hummingbird feeders dangling from the low branch of the only scrub oak tree in the community.
Grass was sparse, but a flower bed full of lantana growing around an enormous yucca plant gave the place a little color.
She was so intent on taking in the whole scene that she didn’t even see the hummingbird light for a second in her hair, but she felt it, and heard his grandmother laugh.
“They like red, but it is a sign that they trust you.” She pulled a red bandanna from her pocket to wipe her eyes.
Walker tucked Tina’s elbow into his hand and escorted her up onto the porch. “Grandma, I want you to meet—”
“Tina O’Grady,” the elderly woman finished for him. “You’ve talked about your friends so much that I feel like I already know her. Welcome to my home, Tina.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cosay,” Tina said, not sure whether to extend her hand, curtsy, or what.
“My name is Almeda, but you can call me Ally. Mrs. Cosay was my mother-in-law, and she didn’t like me very much. Come on inside. I waited on you, and breakfast is ready.” She motioned with a wave of her hand and led the way into the house. “Sit down, and I will make you a plate.”
“Should I offer to help?” Tina whispered to Walker.
He shook his head.
“Did you talk to your mother this week?” Ally asked as she worked.
For a split second, Tina thought that was a rude question to ask right at first, but then she realized that Ally was talking to Walker.
“Always on Saturday evening. She’s well and said to tell you hello when I saw you.”
“I like Natalie, even though I wished she would have stayed here with me when Joe died, rather than raising you in Benson,” Ally said.
The plate Ally set before Tina was filled with a fluffy biscuit, scrambled eggs, and a pile of hash browns with a side bowl of sausage gravy.
It smelled so good that Tina had to fight herself to keep from picking up a fork and taking a small bite.
Ally brought out a similar plate for Walker, but with two biscuits on it.
Then she set a platter of pancakes covered in steaming-hot buttered syrup in the middle of the table, and after that she set her own plate at the head.
She sat down in that spot, folded her hands in her lap, and bowed her head.
“We thank you, Great Spirit, for the resources that made this food possible. We thank the Earth Mother for producing it, and we thank all those who labored to bring it to us.” She raised her head, picked up her fork, and took a bite of eggs.
Walker poured gravy over his eggs and hash browns.
Then he set the bowl back down and pinched one of his biscuits into it.
Ally used her biscuit like a shovel to push her food onto her fork.
Tina wasn’t sure how she should proceed, but finally she decided to follow Ally’s lead in case there was a different custom for men and women.
“I made a pot of soup, too, that has been simmering all morning. We will heat it up if you will stay for supper,” Ally said.
“With fry bread?” Walker asked.
“Always,” she answered.
Walker locked eyes with Tina. “Do you need to get back to Benson before dark?”
“I do not,” Tina said. “You said something about those booths out there being full of crafts? Can we go check that out?”
“I’m setting up shop in the first one today before we start at noon,” Ally said. “I could use the help from both of you.”
“What are you selling?” Tina asked.
“I have several blankets for sale and lots of turquoise jewelry. I work on the items for weeks. If it’s not made by our Navajo tribe, it won’t be there. Our contract says that we don’t import anything,” she answered.
“Like I told you, people come from miles around,” Walker added between bites.
Tina finished off the last of her food. She wasn’t sure what to do next, but the pancakes looked so good that she really wanted to reach out and slip a stack over onto her plate. “If you’ll show me what to do, I will be happy to pitch in.”
Ally nodded as she sopped up the last bit of gravy in her bowl with what was left of her biscuit before she pushed back her chair and stood up.
She removed all the plates and returned with three clean ones and fresh forks.
“Now it’s time for pancakes,” she said. “Chico is selling Indian tacos at the trading post today, so we’ll have those for our noon meal. ”
“Grandmother, I’ll still be too full to eat again at noon,” Walker said.
“Then you can hold off on your food until later, but save room for supper.” She laid her hand on his arm. “It’s good to have you home for a day, Grandson. Once a month isn’t enough for this old woman to see her only living—”
“Grandmother, you have seven sisters and four brothers still living in this community. I am not your only living relative,” he argued. “And you are not old.”
She patted his arm and then slipped three pancakes over onto her clean plate and handed the platter to him. “I’m glad that your mother taught you manners and charm. That’s something Bull never had. But you are my only grandchild, and you know it.”
Walker put a stack of pancakes on his plate and handed the platter to Tina. “Yes, I do, but he was good to us in the only way he knew how.”
“Hmmph,” she grunted. “You always had a slick way of saying things, even as a little boy. That came from Bull.”
Walker grinned and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I think part of it came from you.”
Ally took the first bite of her pancakes. “Eat, and then you can load and unload my things. That will be faster than hauling them over there in that little wagon you bought me.”
Tina didn’t have to be told twice, and even though she didn’t think she would have room in her stomach for anything else, she managed to put away three pancakes and a second cup of black coffee.
She was a tall woman who ran off a lot of energy in a day’s time, but she marveled at how much food Ally could put away.
Maybe it was the bossiness that made it possible. Tina smiled at that idea.