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Authors: C. B. Stanton

Thunder In Her Body (36 page)

BOOK: Thunder In Her Body
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“This is a pitiful sight,” Blaze laughed.

They all said “Good mornin’,” in various tones and conditions of wakefulness.  It sounded like a drunken choir.

 

At 10:15 the truck from the wedding rental store rolled into the circular drive.  Aaron directed them around to the rear of the house to begin setting up the tents, tables and chairs.  The delivery men were at first confused.  They tried to set the chairs around the long tables.  Hawk explained that they were to be in semi-circular rows with a narrow aisle in the center.  They didn’t understand, but did as they were directed.  Hawk informed them that after the ceremony, some of the guys would move the chairs to the tables for the reception.

 

Maurice busied himself, placing cases of beer into two large galvanized tubs, over which he would pour ice about an hour before the ceremony began.  On the other side of the serving area, he loaded cans of sodas into two other tubs.  There was only a faint breeze on that day, so the table clothes and skirts were affixed to the serving tables without jeopardy.  At 11:00 the florist arrived with an assistant, and began placing the long sprigs of pines down the center of the tables with the center pieces of wild flowers.  The circular ceremonial table was dressed in red.  Lynette did not know at the time she purchased the red napkins, that Blaze would wear red, but it was all falling together.  The colors of the day were red and white.  The crystal clear glass serving plates and racks of drinking glasses shimmered in the morning light.  Though they cost much more than the plastic plates and cups, she originally intended to get, she thought about the amount of trash all that plastic would make.  She was not being pretentious, she was doing what she thought was right.  So, she opted for glass, which could be washed, creating much less pollution.  What kind of example would she be showing if she was not trying to be a responsible steward of the earth.  When Blaze asked about the crystal, she told him why.  It made sense.

 

By one o’clock, everything was in place except the food.  She had arranged for it to arrive no later than 1:30.  With the ceremony to begin at 2:00, and both she and Blaze believing in importance of timeliness, she did not want the food to sit out too long before the serving began.

Lucinda offered to work during the wedding, which Lynette refused.

“You are a friend of the family.  You will be an honored guest on our wedding day,” she told her lovingly.

One thing, of the many, that her mother and grandmother had taught her was respect, and showing respect for every person, no matter their status in life. 
“But, for the Grace of God, goes you,”
she had been drilled all her growing up years.  Lucinda might be a housekeeper during the week, but on this day, she was a guest and she would not soil her pretty dress with work.

 

The DJ hustled to get his equipment set up around 1:15.  He was running a little later than expected, but he made it within the fifteen minute leeway time he and Lynette discussed.  He set aside his CDs in some sort of order; tested the speakers and started playing a variety of music.  For the reception, he’d been asked to play classical music while people were being served and eating.  It was good for digestion.  After most everyone had eaten, he could cut loose with some country and western, pop, a little bit of cajun, even one – only one –rap song, just for fun.  Because so many of the attendees would be older than 40, Lynette asked for some songs of the 60’s, especially the 70’s and 80’s.  One special request – Kenny Rogers’
Lady.

 

At 1:20 the food arrived, and the servers, wearing crisp white shirts under black vests,  (a small extra fee to the caterer), and black slacks, set out the enormous pans of food, keeping them covered, of course, until after the ceremony.  After she signed her contract with the caterer, she realized that she had neglected to add “fry bread” to her order.  He did not make any, as it was a Native staple, but he agreed to pick it up from the Indian shop out on the highway, and deliver it with the rest of the food, (for an extra fee, of course).

The hairdresser
had arrived with a flourish around eleven with an announcement that he was there to turn pretty into fabulous!  His only requirement was that the ladies have their hair washed, so all he had to do was style them.  His ladies would be the stars of the event, he assured!  Janette, Dena, Clare, Merrilynn and a few others drew straws to see who would go first.  Lynette would, of course, be last.  Aaron did everything he could to stay outside and away from all the “female fuss” as he called it.  He took his grandchildren down to visit the horses, and offered to do anything Blaze, Lynette, or anyone else wanted, as long as he didn’t have to traverse the estrogen explosion in the house.

 

One by one, right on time at 1:30, the buses and vans pulled slowly into the driveway and the happy guests, in their party finery, exited their conveyances and walked around to the rear of the home where the ceremony would be held.

 

Blaze sat, fully attired, on the side of the bed with Lynette.  Her hair was done up just the way she wanted it.  He touched it gently, careful not to unseat a single hair.  It wouldn’t have moved anyway, as her soft, angel-fine hair was sprayed to hold!

“Any regrets?” he asked lovingly.

“Yes,” she replied with a smile, “that I didn’t meet you thirty years ago.”

“You weren’t ready for me.  I wasn’t ready for you,” he replied.

“I know.  It took everything we’ve been through, all the painful lessons, to bring us to this day,” she said, knowing it was the truth.

“Wherever we are…” he started to say.

“Is where we’re supposed to be,” she finished the concept, lifted his hand, kissing deeply into his palm.  She looked up at him smiling, her face shining with love.  He touched her lips softly with the very tips of his fingers.  She slipped the tip of her tongue across them as he closed his eyes.

“Now, out damned nave,” she directed emphatically, with a phony English accent, gesticulating dramatically toward the bedroom door.  “Milady must dress.  Send in my ladies-in-waiting” she demanded, laughing that joyfully wicked laugh he had come to know.

 

Hawk, maurice, and the rental delivery men had the white chairs arranged in three-fourths of a circle so that once the officiants, and others chosen to participate in the ceremony took their places facing the guests, there was a virtual completed circle   This symbolized the circle of life, and the unbreakable bond into which these two people were about to enter.  They would literally be within a circle of friends and loved ones, once they took their positions.
  The elders of the tribe were seated in the first row among the guests.  There were five chairs facing the guests and a round table, covered in a red cloth in the center of the five chairs. The same color red as Blaze’s tunic.  Lynette had peeked at it and found the identical color at the fabric store.  On the ceremonial table sat a painted bowl, and an unpainted pottery jar filled with water. There was a folded white hand towel.  A square of what appeared to be corn bread lay on a small, unpainted pottery dish.  Standing next to that dish were three candles: two tall white tapers and one thick, white, decorated candle about three inches in diameter.  Behind all of this stood a tall, silver crucifix.  When all the guests were seated, Clare gave a nod to the disc jockey, and the pre-wedding music ceased.  There was a hush and then the music of Nakai, the famous Native-American flutist, began to play its haunting melody.  One by one the officiants and participants moved from the right side of the group to the five chairs and seated themselves.  The first to sit was the Chief Elder, then Father Gibbons, then the family members who would speak: Trapper, Merrilynn and Janette.

 

The music stopped again. Then began another of Nakai’s melodic tunes.  Aaron, in a dark, blue suit with white shirt and red tie, walked out onto the deck, down the stairs and entered the circle, moving over to the right of the circular table.  Then Blaze opened the patio door and walked across the deck, down the steps and stood in front of Aaron, closer to the table.  He was majestic in his Apache attire - a red tunic, slightly open at the neck, sashed by a segmented concho belt made of stamped silver ovals, with large turquoise insets.  Several of the silver segments hung down from the side of his waist.   The tunic hung over cream-colored cotton pants with silver conchos, bead work and fringe running down the side seams from the knee down to the hem.  On his feet he wore light tan moccasins without socks.  Around his waist and partially hidden by the tunic, was the traditional breechcloth or apron panel.  It was black and beautifully decorated with hand embroidered symbols in white, turquoise and red.  The panel ran between his legs and the other end of the panel hung from his waist in the back.  His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and held by a silver and turquoise stamped concho attached with a rawhide band.  He was a majestic figure, standing tall and straight; a vision of the proud, virile warrior of old, and the amazing man of the present.

 

The music stopped again, then began.  Clare, as maid-of-honor, stepped out onto the deck, attired in a lovely soft blue, tea-length organza print dress, white, mid-heel pumps, and carrying a small bouquet of wild flowers, with red streamers hanging from it.  She walked down the steps, into the circle, and positioned herself to the left of the table. The music stopped, then started again, and this time, both Spanish doors opened slowly and Lynette appeared in the darkened doorway of the house.  She stepped forward, pausing for an instant, and let the bright sunlight reflect against the nearly white cloth of her fringed gown.  Moving gracefully out onto the deck, there was a hushed gasp from the crowd.  Blaze caught his breath; he could not believe what he was seeing.  His eyes immediately rimmed with water.  She walked across the deck slowly, aware of how the fringe moved and swayed on her authentically designed, off-white suede Indian wedding gown.  Her hair glowed long and brown in the sunlight, almost as if there was a visible aura or halo around it.   On her ears she wore Zuni drop earrings with five different colored natural stones, formed into a flowery circle.  Her make-up was perfection, and her light-olive skin glowed with the radiance of a bride about to meet her groom.  Around her neck, hung an authentic silver and turquoise squash blossom necklace which she had purchased, for an obscene price, from a Native artist in Flagstaff, Arizona many years before.  On her right arm was the three-inch wide silver, hand-made bracelet with the large turquoise stone in its center.  She wore her ruby and diamond engagement ring on her right hand, leaving her left hand free for the simple gold band they had chosen.  The doe skin knee high boots made no sound as she walked.  Blaze wiped his eyes with a handkerchief Aaron discretely produced from his coat pocket.  He fought valiantly to keep back the tears, but what she had done – coming to him like this – overshadowed any manly pride, and he let a tear role down his golden face.  She moved gracefully, looking only at him; her steps silent.  In her upturned palms she carried a wedding vase, painted turquoise and tan, with the imprints of feathers around its base.  It had two openings, one on either side with a small handle joining the two openings.  In it was pure spring water captured at its source from high upon the mountain, from which they would both drink.  Born of a different culture, she and everyone in attendance knew the gift she was giving to Blaze, and that she would, like Blaze, have feet in both worlds.  She descended the steps, moving as though her feet barely touched the wood, and proceeded elegantly toward the circular table, never taking her eyes off Blaze.  When she took her place in front of Clare, he looked at her and spoke softly.

“I have no words, except thank you, and I thank the Creator for you.”  There were tears in the audience and the ceremony had yet to begin.

She handed the vase to the priest, he handed it to the Elder, who then placed it into Blaze’s hands.  He sat it on the cloth-draped table.

The Priest began:

Lord, behold our family here assembled.  We thank you for this place in which we dwell, for the love that unites us, for the peace accorded us this day, for the hope with which we expect the morrow, for the health, the work, the food, and the bright skies that make our lives delightful; for our friends in all parts of the earth.  Amen

(Robert Louis Stevenson)

The Priest continued:

In many cultures, the washing of hands is a symbol of purification and cleansing.  It is also a symbol to wash away past evils and memories of past loves.

The Priest then took the unpainted vase and urged the couple to place their hands over the bowl.  He poured the water over the bride’s hands and she repeated the words after him:

I come to you with a pure heart and a willing spirit.

The Elder then received the vase from the Priest, and said the same words, which the groom repeated, as the water was poured over the groom’s hands:

I come to you with a pure heart and a willing spirit.

The Elder took the piece of corn bread and held it out to the couple and said:

This bread from Mother Earth is made of white corn meal which symbolizes the male, and yellow corn meal which symbolizes the female.  It is cooked together so that one cannot be separated from the other.

The Elder handed the cornbread to the bride, who broke off a small piece, and placed it in the mouth of the groom.  Then she handed the cornbread to the groom, who broke off a piece and placed it in her mouth.  The remaining cornbread was returned to the plate on the table.

BOOK: Thunder In Her Body
3.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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