Read Online Spider Woman's Daughter by Anne Hillerman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne Hillerman
Ads: Link
made other rugs with other stories of the Holy People. But I haven’t seen those rugs.”
Bernie said, “He? In the old days? I thought women did all the weaving back then.”
“This man was a hataalii. He worked at a huge loom. And the dyes for his yarn? All from plants.”
Mama grew quiet. She closed her eyes. Gradually, her head slumped against the back of the couch. Bernie got up slowly and went to the kitchen to get to work. When the wall phone rang, she caught it at first jingle.
“Hey you. I left a message on your cell an hour ago. I guess you made it safely.” She heard the worry in Chee’s voice. Her cell, left in the car with her backpack and the cat carrier. What kind of an officer was she?
“Anything more on the lieutenant?”
“The hospital in Albuquerque couldn’t take him. Full or something. So they flew him into Santa Fe,” Chee said.
“Gosh, what an ordeal. What about the shooter?”
“Nothing yet. Everyone is looking for Jackson Benally. Mrs. Benally certainly did not enjoy being fingerprinted. She told me more about her angel of a son when I drove her home.”
She heard Chee take a deep breath, exhale into the receiver. “How are you doing, honey? Don’t change the subject this time.”
“Well, Darleen is off with some boyfriend. Stoop Boy. The house is a disaster. It makes me furious that she’s so irresponsible.”
“Let it go for today,” Chee said. “Try to relax and enjoy being with your mom.”
She heard noise in the background, then Chee said, “Gotta run. I’ll call you later.”
While Mama napped, she focused on cleaning, taking out her frustration on the greasy stovetop. She reimagined the crime as she scrubbed, worrying over the details, wondering what she’d missed. When she heard the TV click on, she left the rest of the kitchen project for Darleen.
Mama put a bony finger on Bernie’s khaki pants. “What happened here? Did you get hurt?”
Bernie looked down at her legs. Noticed the bloodstains.
“Someone I work with got shot this morning. They took him to the hospital in Santa Fe.”
“Is this his blood?”
Bernie nodded. The cold breath of sadness swept over her.
“Something else happened, Mama,” she said. “I had his cat in my car, and it ran away. I left the window open, and next thing I knew, the cat . . .” She felt the tears welling.
Mama looked at her. “So, you like those bird killers all of a sudden?”
“Well, no, not especially.”
“The one that got lost, was it your friend?”
She had to laugh. “Not exactly. It scratched me when I tried to catch it. It made a terrible noise from the backseat. Yikes. What a racket!”
“So, you’re crying about a cat, and you don’t like cats? And this cat hurt you, and it wasn’t even your cat?” Mama patted her hand. “I don’t think that cat made you cry.”
“It’s been a hard day.”
“Maybe you needed to cry.”
Then Bernie felt Mama’s cool hand on her back, rubbing between the shoulder blades the way she used to when Bernie was a little girl. It was as if that gentle pressure pushed away the strength of her resistance and let the grief and weariness flow out.
“In my room are some clean pants,” Mama said after a while. “When you put them on, roll up the waist a little so they won’t be too long.” Mama had been taller, but now Bernie and Mama stood almost eye to eye.
Bernie took off her uniform and put on Mama’s pants and one of her blouses. She washed her face and combed her hair. She felt better.
They took a little stroll, with Mama pushing the metal frame of her walker. Then she sorted Mama’s laundry for Darleen to take to the Laundromat. Helped Mama take a shower and shampooed her hair. After that, she fixed scrambled eggs, toast, and applesauce. The food smelled good, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Thinking of breakfast brought back the shooting, and then she wasn’t hungry.
“Elsie gave us the eggs,” Mama said. “I
Bernie said, “He? In the old days? I thought women did all the weaving back then.”
“This man was a hataalii. He worked at a huge loom. And the dyes for his yarn? All from plants.”
Mama grew quiet. She closed her eyes. Gradually, her head slumped against the back of the couch. Bernie got up slowly and went to the kitchen to get to work. When the wall phone rang, she caught it at first jingle.
“Hey you. I left a message on your cell an hour ago. I guess you made it safely.” She heard the worry in Chee’s voice. Her cell, left in the car with her backpack and the cat carrier. What kind of an officer was she?
“Anything more on the lieutenant?”
“The hospital in Albuquerque couldn’t take him. Full or something. So they flew him into Santa Fe,” Chee said.
“Gosh, what an ordeal. What about the shooter?”
“Nothing yet. Everyone is looking for Jackson Benally. Mrs. Benally certainly did not enjoy being fingerprinted. She told me more about her angel of a son when I drove her home.”
She heard Chee take a deep breath, exhale into the receiver. “How are you doing, honey? Don’t change the subject this time.”
“Well, Darleen is off with some boyfriend. Stoop Boy. The house is a disaster. It makes me furious that she’s so irresponsible.”
“Let it go for today,” Chee said. “Try to relax and enjoy being with your mom.”
She heard noise in the background, then Chee said, “Gotta run. I’ll call you later.”
While Mama napped, she focused on cleaning, taking out her frustration on the greasy stovetop. She reimagined the crime as she scrubbed, worrying over the details, wondering what she’d missed. When she heard the TV click on, she left the rest of the kitchen project for Darleen.
Mama put a bony finger on Bernie’s khaki pants. “What happened here? Did you get hurt?”
Bernie looked down at her legs. Noticed the bloodstains.
“Someone I work with got shot this morning. They took him to the hospital in Santa Fe.”
“Is this his blood?”
Bernie nodded. The cold breath of sadness swept over her.
“Something else happened, Mama,” she said. “I had his cat in my car, and it ran away. I left the window open, and next thing I knew, the cat . . .” She felt the tears welling.
Mama looked at her. “So, you like those bird killers all of a sudden?”
“Well, no, not especially.”
“The one that got lost, was it your friend?”
She had to laugh. “Not exactly. It scratched me when I tried to catch it. It made a terrible noise from the backseat. Yikes. What a racket!”
“So, you’re crying about a cat, and you don’t like cats? And this cat hurt you, and it wasn’t even your cat?” Mama patted her hand. “I don’t think that cat made you cry.”
“It’s been a hard day.”
“Maybe you needed to cry.”
Then Bernie felt Mama’s cool hand on her back, rubbing between the shoulder blades the way she used to when Bernie was a little girl. It was as if that gentle pressure pushed away the strength of her resistance and let the grief and weariness flow out.
“In my room are some clean pants,” Mama said after a while. “When you put them on, roll up the waist a little so they won’t be too long.” Mama had been taller, but now Bernie and Mama stood almost eye to eye.
Bernie took off her uniform and put on Mama’s pants and one of her blouses. She washed her face and combed her hair. She felt better.
They took a little stroll, with Mama pushing the metal frame of her walker. Then she sorted Mama’s laundry for Darleen to take to the Laundromat. Helped Mama take a shower and shampooed her hair. After that, she fixed scrambled eggs, toast, and applesauce. The food smelled good, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Thinking of breakfast brought back the shooting, and then she wasn’t hungry.
“Elsie gave us the eggs,” Mama said. “I
Similar Books
