Shutter(55)

I offered condolences. “My grandma was a good friend of hers. She’s going to miss her.” Everyone was looking at me, wondering when I was going to leave so they could carry on with the arguing. “I know there is a service at the chapter house, and I just wanted to tell you that we are willing to help with anything you might need.” I looked over at the grandsons and smiled. They smiled and nodded in return.

Rosie was already opening the door for me to leave. “Thank you for coming over,” she barked. I followed her, wondering how I would ever deliver Mrs. Bitsie’s message.

I resorted to lying. “Can I ask one of you to help me out at my grandma’s house? I have a box in the back of the truck and wanted to get it out of the rain.”

One of the grandsons stood right away. “I’ll help.” We walked out together. Once we were past the parked cars and away from the house, I extended my hand.

“What is your name again? I’m sorry. I have a bad memory.”

He shook my hand. “My name is Arvis. I’m the older one. That’s my little girl in there.”

“Your grandma was really close to you two, huh?”

“Yeah. Real close. She was more my mom than Rosie was.” He looked to the ground.

I stopped him before we got to Grandma’s driveway. “Listen, don’t ask me how I know, but you need to go up to your grandma’s closet and look up in the crawlspace in the ceiling. There is a blue lockbox in there that has all your grandma’s paperwork. She left what little she had to you and your brother.”

He looked at me like he had seen a ghost. The irony.

“Did you see her spirit?”

“What makes you say that?” I already knew, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“Everyone says that you used to see spirits and stuff when you were a little girl. I thought maybe you were still seeing them.” He stood with his hands in his pockets, half scared and half curious.

“People sure like to talk, don’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess they do.” He shrugged.

“Let us know if there is anything you need. Okay?” I began to walk back to Grandma’s house. Arvis stood there watching me until I was almost to the door, then turned on his heel and walked toward Mrs. Bitsie’s house. George Bush howled in the distance.

When I came in the door, Grandma was sitting in the kitchen with the lights off. I could smell reheated coffee and hear the television in the living room.

“Where did you run off to?” Grandma asked. I knew she had probably been watching me the entire time.

“I just went over to Mrs. Bitsie’s house to let them know we were here if they needed help with anything.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” Grandma was onto me.

“Mrs. Bitsie asked me to.”

“I knew it. What did I tell you about that?” Grandma was on her feet. I could see her rage even in the dark.

“I know, Grandma. Did you want me to tell her no? Did you want me to let her down?”

Grandma was silent. I heard the ache of her chair as she sat back down.

“What did she want?”

“She needed me to tell them where all her paperwork was. She had a will and some money and things and wanted me to tell her grandsons where it was.”

“I just don’t understand why she would do that. She knew how I felt about the things you see. She knew I didn’t want anyone to know.” Grandma leaned over and turned on the lamp on the table. “Someone is going to say something. I just know it.”

MRS. BITSIE’S SERVICES were well attended by most of Tohatchi. It was shocking to see all of Grandma’s friends completely gray, their skin softly wrinkled and peppered with spots from the sun. The group stood together, talking in Navajo and often shaking their heads, pointing at the parts of their bodies that ached and pained, sharing stories about their terrible kids or grandkids. It was sad to see Grandma’s generation slowly slipping away, taking with them all their knowledge. The new generation lived without the ingrained commitment to look out for one another, to be a part of the community. But I couldn’t complain. I was getting ready to leave this world behind too. School was only a month away.

Rosie and her brothers had been watching me during the services, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before somebody shared a few choice words with me. It was Rosie who marched over to me the moment she spotted me at the reception. “So, you’re the one that can see the spirits.” She stood inches from my face. “You’re a witch. That’s what you are.”

By then, the entire chapter house was staring at me—the elders embarrassed for me, for my grandma, and for the soul of poor Mrs. Bitsie.

“I’m not a witch,” I whispered. “It’s not my fault that she didn’t trust you.” I walked out and went home. Grandma was right. No one would ever understand this thing that haunted me.

But Mrs. Bitsie deserved to be at peace. The sky began to open again, bringing the rain and the sunshine all at once. Maybe it was Mrs. Bitsie’s way of saying thank you. The raindrops were wide and heavy on my skin.

AFTER MRS. BITSIE’S funeral, I spent the summer on Grandma’s porch watching people drive by, slowing to get a glimpse of me, sure that I would witch their families or levitate them off the road. It was beginning to get old. I sat there anyway as a kind of defiance.