Shaxoa's Gift by DelSheree Gladden Page A

asked.
    “Actually, I was looking for some
directions,” I said. “I need to speak with your shaman. Do you know
where I could find her?”
    “What business do you have with Miss Kaya?”
the man asked.
    “I’m from San Juan Pueblo, the Tewa community
in New Mexico. Our shaman sent me to speak to her,” I said.
    “You’re Tewa?”
    “Yes sir, from New Mexico.”
    He nodded slowly. “Sometimes I forget there
are more Tewa in the world than those of us here in Hano,” he said.
“Kaya lives on the north side of town. Why don’t you come in for a
minute and I’ll draw you a map to her house. I’m Ben Redcloud, by
the way.”
    “Uriah Crowe,” I said offering my hand. We
shook briefly before he motioned for me to follow him inside. I
sighed at the thought of the delay, but there was nothing I could
do about it. Stepping on top of his dusty footprints, I walked
toward the house.
    Relieved that the man had not decided to call
the police on me or run inside and lock the doors, I followed him
into his home. Passing through his living room, we stopped in the
kitchen. Ben rummaged through a kitchen drawer before producing a
small pad of paper and a pencil. His thick fingers quickly sketched
the roads of the town that lead from his house to the shaman,
Kaya’s, home.
    Holding the paper in front of me, Ben’s
finger traced the route I should follow. “Her house is right in the
middle of the street, white stucco with a greenish colored trim,”
he said. “She may not be up and about yet. You want something to
eat before you go? You look hungry.”
    Having already intruded on the man and
interrupted his work, I wanted to say I was fine, but as he turned
away and pulled a warm tray of corn bread out of the oven I
remembered I was indeed starving.
    Ben seemed to sense my hesitation. “It’s too
early to be bothering Miss Kaya just yet. Why don’t you have some
breakfast?”
    I knew he was right. I would probably only be
hurting my chances of getting any help for Claire if I went around
banging on doors just after sunrise. Maybe Ben could give me a
little insight into what Kaya was like, as well. I could use all
the help I could get at this point. “If you’re sure you don’t
mind,” I said.
    “Sit down, son. I’ll get some butter and
honey out,” Ben said. Turning to his cupboards, he opened a door
next to the stove. After a few seconds he came back to the table
with two plates and a jar of honey. Grabbing the butter from the
refrigerator, he finally joined me at the table. I waited, trying
to be patient for Ben to serve the hot bread. Steam rose from the
pale yellow square and my stomach growled. I took a bite, happy to
have hot, freshly made food again.
    “So what do you need to see Kaya about, if
you don’t mind me asking,” Ben said.
    I didn’t really know what to say. I wasn’t
about to spill out the events of the past three days to him. Most
likely he would throw me out of his kitchen if I did. My tired mind
worked fast to come up with something plausible. “My family has had
some problems come up lately and our shaman, Quaile, just felt like
she wasn’t able to help us enough. So she sent me here to speak
with your shaman.”
    The man nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.
“If she sent you here to speak with Kaya, then why didn’t she know
where to find her?” he asked.
    My mind whirled again. “Well, I guess Quaile
hasn’t stayed in very good contact with the Tewa living here in
Hano before now,” I said.
    Ben raised an eyebrow, no doubt wondering why
Quaile would suddenly decide to strike up a friendship.
    “I think the other Elders are pushing her to
reconnect or something. Like you said, sometimes we forget you guys
are even here.”
    This time Ben’s nod seemed satisfied. “Well,
there really aren’t that many full blood Tewa here anymore. Most of
the people here are at least half Hispanic now. Kaya’s family and a
few others are really the last of the Tewa. We don’t follow many