“Girls!” Leaping Deer chided.
They both quieted down.
Leaping Deer cupped more water and held her hands high. “Teach her to trust these things so that she may enter her sacred space and love beyond her fear. Thus you shall walk in balance with the passing of each glorious sun.”
The two girls followed suit, dousing my head and face with the creek’s icy blessing.
I shrieked.
Kimimela exclaimed, “See? She is a baby.”
“Is not,” Chumani said.
“Is, too,” Kimimela shot back, adding a splash of water.
“Is not!” Chumani slammed her hand through the water to create a wave that thoroughly drenched Kimimela.
Kimimela began to cry while I shivered in the middle.
“Girls! Girls!” Leaping Deer clapped her hands. “Bring Little Moon from the creek and straighten yourselves out.”
I staggered from the creek, shivering, teeth chattering. I’d often bathed in this creek, but it seemed filled with snow melt today.
Leaping Deer held the robe up for me, and I gratefully clutched it around my body, seeking warmth. I replaced the dagger around my thigh and nodded at Leaping Deer.
The women led me back to my teepee, where they combed aloe vera through my hair as I huddled on one of the bison furs. Next, they rubbed the plant juice onto my face, neck, belly, arms, and legs. After that, I was dressed in my beautiful dress.
“Red Bird did this beadwork for you,” Leaping Deer said, nodding to the old woman beside her. “She wove many prayers into the garment.”
“Thank you, Red Bird,” I said, smiling at her. “This is beautiful.”
The elderly woman grunted, but a smile crept across her wrinkled cheeks.
Kimimela and Chumani, the two young girls, sat next to me, braiding flowers into my hair.
When done, Leaping Deer said, “Stand up and turn around.”
Leaping Deer and Red Bird scrutinized me as I slowly pivoted.
When I faced them, Leaping Deer said, her eyes moist with tears, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying to shove away the guilt over her daughter, Laughing Maid, dying because of my presence.
Then, Leaping Deer led me to a large circle near the teepees consisting entirely of women, all dressed in their finest beaded garments. I was told to sit in the center.
I became overwhelmed with hunger as the smells of cooking food wafted in thick clouds.
Four women stood opposite one another in the circle, beating drums while others swayed to the beat and chanted. Several other women danced around me. Rattles were shaken over my head, and words and phrases I couldn’t quite make out were whispered in my ears.
I stood in awe of the beauty of the dancers. I was hypnotized by all the sound and movement around me.
When the dancers tired, they fell back in line in the circle. Then, they were handed food, while those on the periphery took their places, weaving and leaping in patterns.
This process continued as the sun passed leisurely through the sky. No food was handed to me—I simply had to sit there, regain warmth, and take in all the blessings.
As the hours passed, I became entranced, slipping into a dreamlike state of consciousness. My eyelids fluttered closed.
In my mind’s eye, in the distance, the darkest clouds I’d ever seen rolled in our direction. I became agitated, wondering if Balthazar was coming to destroy my happiness. The clouds transformed into black ink, staining everything they encountered. When the ink reached me, it spread over my entire body, turning everything shadowy and murky. It filled my eyes, nose, and mouth. I began to panic, gulping air, sure both the baby and I would drown.
