Between Earth and Sky(90)

A strand of hair had fallen over his face. Alma brushed the soft black lock back behind his ear. “You’re all the family I need.”

He drew her against his chest, but the squeal of nearby door hinges stopped them before their lips could meet. Her mother’s footfalls sounded on the sidewalk.

“Two weeks. Meet me at the bottom of Grandfather’s Bluff.” He’d leapt from the carriage just as the door on the opposite side began to open. “Eleven o’clock, . I’ll be waiting on you.”

Now, as she relayed the story to her friends, she expected to see the same unbridled excitement that hummed inside her lit upon their faces. Instead, the gleam vanished from Minowe’s eyes. lost her grin. “Azaadiins, your parents will be so angry.”

“Let them be angry. I don’t care.”

Silence fell between them. Even the magpies ceased their chatter. Alma’s heart inched into her throat. “It’s the only way and I can be together. Aren’t you happy for me? For us?”

squeezed her hand. “Of course, but—”

“You won’t be happy for long,” Minowe cut in. She pried her fingers from Alma’s and crossed her arms, her seeding stick trapped in the crook of her elbow.

“How can you say that?”

Minowe snorted and shook her head.

“What?”

Her friend started to walk away. “Nothing.”

Alma grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been against me on this from the start.”

“You think because you dance sometimes with us around the fire, because you speak our words that you know what it is to be Indian.”

“I’m not trying to be Indian. I just want—”

“Fancy dresses and parlor games won’t do you no good on the reservation.”

“I’m not without domestic skills.” But in truth, she hadn’t thought about that. The collar of her dress felt suddenly damp and sticky. “I can cook . . . a bit. And sew. And I can always tutor children on the piano if and I need money.”

“Piano?” Minowe rolled her eyes. “You think we keeps pianos in our wigwams? In our shacks or agency-made cabins?”

“I . . . I didn’t think . . . I’m sure—”

“And what about your wiisaakodewininiwag childrens? Half-breeds fit in nowhere. Not your world. Not his.” She shrugged free of Alma’s grasp. “Marry Edward Steele. Live in a big house on State Street. You’d be better happy there in the end.”

“Waú!” said. “Not if she loves .”

“She should love a white man.”

The words struck Alma like a ruler against her knuckles. With Minowe’s smirk came another slap. Had she always felt this way? Didn’t she care that without Alma could hardly breathe? “You sound just like my father.”

“Maybe for once he’s right.”

“And what of us? I suppose we shouldn’t be friends either, you being an Indian.” Alma regretted the words the minute she said them.

Minowe winced and threw her stick to the ground. “Fine.” Her voice was choked. “You thinks we were friends? We were never real friends, Alma. This, all of this”—she flung her arm toward the schoolhouse—“it’s a lie. A lie you’ve tricks’d into believing.”

“You’re just jealous that we’re happy together.”

Minowe laughed—a fake, icy laugh. “Of all the things that happened to him here—the punishments, shamings—you’re the worst.”

She stomped off, leaving Alma with a mouthful of bitter words and tears stinging her eyes.

“Do you think that too, ?” Alma asked after she found her voice.

“No, Azaadiins. Of course we’re friends. Minowe too. She just . . .” paused and kicked at the dirt. “Living on the reservation won’t be easy. They’re not used to no waxopíni wí there.”

“What about the nuns? They’re white women. And surely some of the agency employees have wives.”

shrugged. “It’s different. You’d be the wife of an Indian. Many peoples—white and red—won’t like that.”

Alma squinted up at the sun. Only moments before its bright face had seemed so cheery. Off in the distance, she heard the rumble of an approaching carriage. “I love him . . . What would you do if you were in my place?”

bit her lip. After another drawn-out pause, the smile Alma cherished returned to the girl’s face. “I’d run away too.”

“Will you help me? I need someone to distract the dogs and keep them quiet while I sneak out.”

“I can manage that.”

“And afterward, you can’t tell anyone where we’ve gone. Father will figure it out eventually, but at least and I will have a head start. After we’re married, there’s nothing he can do.” The thud of horse hooves and cry of iron wheels grew louder. “I’d better go.”

She turned to leave and saw the stick Minowe had thrown to the ground. Alma picked it up. Her fingers curled around the rough bark until they blanched. “It’s not a lie.”

eased the stick from her hand and burrowed a fresh hole. “Don’t worry none about Minowe. She’ll come around. First her brother left and now you. She just feels left behind. I’ll bring her with me to help with the dogs. I know she’ll wants to say goodbye.”