'He will speak to you of the Mil-gahn religion, of your mother's religion.'
'But I thought you said a medicine man..
'Olhoni,' Rita said sternly. 'You are a child of two worlds, a child with two mothers, are you not?' Davy nodded. 'Then you can be a boy with two religions, two instead of none, isn't it?'
Davy thought about it a moment before he nodded again.
'So tonight,' Rita continued, 'whenever Fat Crack comes to get me, I will go out to Sells and be there for the start of the ceremony. I will return during the day, but each night I must go again. On the fourth night, the last night, you will come, too. Either your mother will bring you, or I will come back for you myself' 'Will there be a feast?' he asked.
'Yes, now get up. I need your help.'
Davy scrambled off the bed. 'What do you want, Nana Daha'?' 'Over there, in the bottom drawer of my dresser, there is a small basket.
Bring it.'
Davy did as he was told, carrying the small, rectangular basket back to the bed. 'What's this?' he asked.
'My medicine basket.'
As he handed it to her, something rattled inside. 'What's in it, Nana Dahd? Can I see?'
With some difficulty, Rita had managed to pull herself up on the side of the bed. Now, she patted the mattress, motioning for Davy to sit beside her. 'You'll have to.'
She smiled. 'I can't.'
Davy worked at prying off the tight-fitting lid. It was a testimony to Understanding Woman's craftsmanship that even after so many years, even with the repairs Rita had made from time to time, the lid of the basket still fit snugly enough that it required effort to remove it. When it finally came loose, Davy handed the opened basket back to Rita.
One at a time, she took items out and held them up to the light. After looking at each one, she handed it to Davy.
First was the awl, the owij, Rita called it. Davy knew what that was for because he had often watched her use the sharp tool to poke holes in the coiled cactus to make her baskets.
Next came a piece of pottery.
'What's that?' Davy asked.
'See the turtle here?' Rita asked, pointing to the design etched into the broken shard. Davy nodded. 'This is from one of my great-grandmother's pots, Olhoni. When a woman dies, the people must break her pots in order to free her spirit. My grandmother kept this piece of her mother's best pot and gave it to me.'
Next she held up the seashell. 'Grandfather brought this back from his first salt-gathering expedition, and this spine of feather is one my father once gave to his mother when he was younger than you are now.
The clay doll was used for healing.'
Next, Davy saw a Thank of black hair. 'What's that?' he asked.
'It's something we used to use against the Ohb, the Apaches,' Rita explained. 'Something to keep our enemies away.'
At the very bottom of the basket were two last iternsa piece of purple rock and something small made of metal and ribbon.
'What are those?'
'A spirit rock,' Rita answered, holding up the fragment of geode. 'A rock that's ordinary on the outside, but beautifully colored on the inside.'
'And that?' he asked.
'That is my son's,' she said softly, fingering the frayed bit of ribbon.
'Gordon's. His Purple Heart. The army sent it to me after the war.'
'What war?'
'The Korean,' she said.
'Did your son die, too?' Davy asked.
'I guess,' she answered. 'He joined the Army during World War II and stayed in. He never came home after Korea. The Army said he was missing, but he's been missing for twenty-six years now. I don't think he's coming home. His wife, Gina's mother, ran off some place. With no husband, she didn't want a baby. I took care of Gina the same way I take care of you.'
Rita looked down at the little cache of treasure lying exposed on the bedspread. 'Put them all back for me now, Davy. I want to take them with me.'
One at a time, with careful concentration, Davy put Rita's things back in the basket then he fitted the lid on tight.
'I've never seen this basket before, have I?' he asked, handing it back to her.
She took it and slid it inside the top of her dress, where it rested out of sight beneath her ample breast and above her belt. 'No, Olhoni.
You have to be old enough before you can look at a medicine basket and show it proper respect.'
