Monday, January 4, 2010

Shima

Come on, Sonny it is time to wake up. She shook his leg and let him know it was morning time to get up to go to school. His hair was all bushy, his eyes still had the tracks of the sandman and he rubbed them.

Shima, Shima, let me sleep.


She shook his leg and told him how are you going to build me that house you promised me. He opened his eyes and could see through the window the sun was coming up and he had to get up. He layed there and tried to cover himself up with the quilt made from old levis, it was still cold and he just layed there.


The smell of of a wood fire, and the biscuits brought him up out of bed. He slipped down and made his way to the wash basin and sprinkled water on his eyes and then reached for a biscuit, they were sitting in the middle of wooden table in the small house. The butter was just right there and he was going to smear a bunch of it on one.


You have to wash up first, she said pointing to the wash basin. He looked at it and made his way over there and could see out the screen door. The old man was out early in the distance over by the sheep corral. The sun was just breaking over the edge way over by Chaco Canyon, the fingers of light raced across the ground.


The school bus would be coming soon and he washed himself up with the warm water she had boiled for him, he washed behind his ears and under his neck and got his red checkered shirt on, a wool one and those old wranglers with the boot cut, slipped on his boots and was ready to meet the day. He went outside and ran over to the corral and told the old man it was time to eat. As he turned back to the house he could see his mother bringing in wood inside from the wood pile. She was dressed in a long dress the kind Navajo women wear, her hair was all tied up.

As he walked with his father, he said. How did get to know her, Shima. They walked slowly and his father slowed a bit and said way down there, by the wash she used to herd sheep for her grandma and she used to sit on the rocks and sing those sheep. I used to see her and whe was just about your age. We didn't go to school back in those days except when we had the time, we used to do a lot of work around the place of our parents. She was like that, she was the oldest sister and she helped out, but she would sing those old Navajo traveling songs to those sheep. I used to see her there every once in a while, she wasn't much older than you. She was able to keep those sheep together, she sat there on just below that mesa on
the rock; the place she used to sit is still there. I will take you
there.


Anyway, after we had grown up I saw her at the trading post and we used to see other here and there, the old folks made a match, they arranged it for us, so we got together. This has always been our home and it will be yours someday he said.


The crunch of the dirt made large sounds as they walked up the small house. He looked at his mother (shima) and she was putting mush on the
table and coffee with potatoes and biscuits. It was all hot and ready
to eat. They sat down and he looked at her and could see her hands were soft, from mixing the dough for the bread. He remembered that when she worked she would sing and he would listen to her as she sang those old songs. When they went to town she was quiet, but at home she would sing here and there and he liked to the sound of her voice. He looked at his mother carefully, and could see that she worked hard for them and she always touched his cheek before he went out the door to catch the long bus ride to school.

She touched his cheek and told him to go to school and study hard. He would tell her some day Shima I am going to build you a house over there by the cedar trees and you won't have to chop wood and haul water anymore.

She would laugh to hear a seven year old say that to her and she said you have promised me but first you have to go to school and listen to the teachers and do good.

It is the way to learn about what is like out there way beyond Dinetah
(Navajoland). She would smile and him and watch him as he ran through
the cedars to catch the bus.

In turning around he would always see her standing there, watching him, looking after him to see that he got to school to learn about the world. She stood there with her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a long dress, white tennis shoes, and an old apron, she would be throwing out the wash water on the ground and feeding the left overs to the sheep dogs. She would stand there by the shade house (chao) and watch after him. It is a sight that comes to mind even now after all these years.

Shima! Shima! (Mother! Mother!) he would call her as he left each day
and she would always be standing there watching after them, way out there in Navajoland.

rustywire@yahoo.com

1 comment:

  1. I like your story. It reminds me of my mother encouraging me to go to school everyday when I didn't want to go to school. To this day, I have been teaching for 20 years thanks to my mother's encouraging words.

    ReplyDelete