The Ghostway

'It wasn't your grandfather who died in there,' Chee said. 'It was a man named Albert Gorman. A nephew of Ashie Begay.' Chee paused a moment, trying to sort out the Begay family. 'An uncle of yours, I think.'

The girl's face had been as forlorn as a child's face can be. Now it was radiant. 'Grandfather's alive? He's really alive? Where is he?'

'I don't know,' Chee said. 'Gone to live with some relatives, I guess. We came up here last week to get Gorman, and we found Gorman had died. And that.' Chee pointed at the corpse hole. 'Hosteen Begay buried Gorman out there, and packed up his horses, and sealed up his hogan, and went away.'

The girl looked thoughtful.

'Where would he go?' Chee asked. The girl would be Margaret Sosi. No question about that. Two birds with one stone. One stolen pinto mare and the horse thief, plus one missing St. Catherine's student. 'Hosteen Begay is your mother's father. Would he…?' He remembered then that the mother of Margaret Billy Sosi was dead.

'No,' Margaret said.

'Somebody else then?'

'Almost everybody went to California. A long time ago. My mother's sisters. My great-grandmother. Some people live over on the Canoncito Reservation, but…' Her voice trailed off, became suddenly suspicious. 'Why do you want to find him?'

'I want to ask him two questions,' Chee said. 'This is a good hogan here, solid and warm, in a place of beauty. Good firewood. Good water for the cattle. Enough grass. Hosteen Begay must have seen that his nephew was dying. Why didn't he do as the People have always done and move him out into the air so the chindi could go free?'

'Yes,' Margaret Sosi said. 'I'm surprised he didn't do that. He loved this place.'

'I have heard Hosteen Begay lived the Navajo Way,' Chee said.

'Oh, yes,' Margaret said. 'My grandfather always walked in beauty.'

'He would have known how to take care of a corpse then? How to get it ready for its journey?'

The girl nodded. 'He taught me about that.

About putting a little food and water with the body. And things it needs for four days.'

'And what you do so the chindi will not follow it?'

'Oh, yes,' she said. 'After you make the yucca suds and wash the hair, you reverse the shoes.' She pantomimed the act of switching. 'So the chindi will be confused by the footprints.' As she finished the sentence her voice trailed off, and she glanced at the corpse hole, the irregular broken doorway into the darkness of the hogan. She looked, and Chee felt her shiver under his hand. Seventeen, by the record, he thought, but she looks about fifteen.

'I wouldn't have gone in there if I had known it wasn't Grandfather.' She looked up at Chee. 'What do I have to do? What can you do when you've been where you catch the ghost sickness? How do I get rid of the chindi?'

'You're supposed to take a sweat bath,' Chee said. 'And as soon as you can you have a sing. Tell your family about it. They'll call in a Listener, or a Hand Trembler, to make sure you have the right ceremonial. Usually it would be part of the Night Way, or the Mountaintop Way. Then your family will hire a singer, and…' It was occurring to Chee that Margaret Sosi didn't have much family to depend on for such familial duties. 'Is there somebody who can do that for you?'

'My grandfather would do it,' she said.

'Anyone else? Until we find him?'

'I guess just about everybody went to Los Angeles,' she said. 'A long time ago.'

'Look, Margaret,' Chee said. 'Don't worry about it. Let me tell you about chindi. Do you know much about religion?'

'I go to a Catholic school. We study religion.'

'A lot of religions have rules about what not to do, what not to eat, things like that. The Koran tells the Moslems not to eat pigs. When the wise men were writing that, a lot of diseases were spread by eating pork. It was smart to avoid it. Same with some of the Jewish rules about foods. Most religions, like us Navajos, have rules against incest. You don't have intercourse within your own family. If you do, inbreeding makes bad stock. And with us, Changing Woman and Black God taught us to stay away from where people have died. That's wise too. Avoids spreading small-pox, bubonic plague fleas, things like that.'

Even in the twilight, Chee could see Margaret's face was skeptical.

'So the ghost is just disease germs,' she said.

'Not exactly,' Chee said. 'There's more to it than that. Now we know about germs, so when we violate the taboo about a death hogan we know how to deal with any germs we might catch. But we also know we've violated our religion, broken one of the rules the People live by. So we feel guilty and uneasy. We no longer have hozro. We no longer live in beauty. We're out of harmony. So we need to do what Changing Woman taught us to do to be restored in the Navajo Way.'

Margaret's expression was slightly less skeptical. 'Did you go in there?'

'No,' Chee said. 'I didn't.'

'Are you going to?'

'Only if I have to,' Chee said. 'I hope I don't have to.' The answer surprised him. He had avoided the hogan, and the decision, all afternoon. Suddenly he understood why. It had something to do, a great deal to do, with Mary Landon—with remaining one of the Dinee or with stepping through into the white man's world.

'I would break the taboo because it is my job,' he said. 'But maybe it won't be necessary. You stay right here.