Benjen at 23
“Ick. I don’t feel so good.” Easy laid his head on the kitchen table. “Pour me some water, Cochise.”
Benjen opened a cabinet door and took down a glass, then flipped on the tap and filled it with water. “Here. Are you coming down with something?”
“No, my stomach is queasy. I took a laxative.”
“One of these?” Benjen held up a packet of pills with several empty sections.
“Yea, those pink ones.” Easy groaned. “Like Mom used to give us when we were little.”
“Idiot. These aren’t laxatives.” Chuckling, Benjen shook his head. “Didn’t you turn them over and read the back?”
“Nope. You know I don’t read instructions. What are they?” He raised his head and frowned. “Am I going to die? Did I poison myself?”
“You won’t die. You won’t have any parasites either. I bought these for the barn cats. You’ve just wormed yourself.”
“Fuck,” Easy groaned. “Seriously?”
“Afraid so, but you’ll be all right. You probably need to eat more fiber. There’s too much meat in your diet.”
“What kind of fiber?”
“Grains, beans, lots of things.”
“How about popcorn?”
Benjen chuckled. “I guess that would do. I’m going into town later to take some preemie caps to the hospital. I’ll pick you up some popcorn at the store.”
“You and your knitting.” Easy sat up straight and rubbed his aching stomach. “Someday I’m going to put a clip on Instagram of big-old-you laying in the recliner knitting baby beanies.”
“Hey, it works. Mom always said knitting calmed her nerves and after Kelli…I just couldn’t sit still and do nothing. It soothes me. And the babies need beanies!” Benjen picked his hat up from off a chair and set it on his head. “You’ll be all right. Have we heard from the newlyweds?”
“They’re supposed to be back from the honeymoon tonight. Sam is planning on frying a mess of catfish for their homecoming supper.” Easy watched his brother’s face. “Look, I know it has to be hard, watching Daniel fall in love with Sara and get married when you should’ve been the…” He let his voice trail off.
Benjen cleared his throat. He knew Easy felt like he was broaching a taboo subject. For the past year, as was Apache tradition, no one had uttered Kelli’s name. Benjen handled the mourning process in his own way – privately. “It’s okay. Today’s the day. I’m going on top of Packsaddle to tell her goodbye.”
“You want some company?”
“I’ll take Hope with me, you stay here and detox. I’ll be back in time to eat.” Whistling, he called his dog. She’d been with him for almost the full year, a rescue he’d found on the side of the road. Now, other than his family, the little terrier was his best friend. Apart from his brothers, Benjen found he now preferred the company of animals. “Let’s go, girl.”
Dreading what he was about to do, Benjen left the house, saddled his horse, and headed up on the mountain. “You can run if you want, just check back with me every once in a while.” The dog took him at his word, setting out on the scent of a rabbit.
As he rode across the pasture from the old stone ranch house, he touched the medicine bag that hung on his belt to make sure it was there. He needed the hoddentin for the ritual. Next, he placed his palm over his chest, feeling the izze-kloth beneath the material of his shirt. Braided from four strands of dyed leather and punctuated with beads and shells, the medicine cord was sacred to him, a source of strength and healing. Over the past twelve months, he’d spent a great deal of time studying and learning more about the spiritual side of his heritage. Part of his motivation was to fulfill his promise to his father and part of it was to find his own path to becoming whole again.
Like his father did when his mother passed, he set aside a year to remember. A year to honor Kelli in his heart. A year to prepare himself to move on without her. His brothers didn’t fully understand his process and Benjen didn’t talk to them about it. Not that he thought they wouldn’t understand or care, the act of passage was just too precious and private to share. Of course, they noticed he rarely went out, but they didn’t question him about it. If someone else made mention of the fact, they just laughed it off and told them he was shy.
Raising his face, he gazed toward Honey Creek, smiling at the caress of the wind on his face. Sometimes, he felt she was near him. Unlike his ancestors, he wouldn’t shun her spirit if she returned to him. He’d been prepared to walk beside Kelli Conway for the rest of his life, a person couldn’t pivot away from such an aim quickly – or he couldn’t. He’d needed the time…but now, that time was over.
As he neared Packsaddle, Benjen headed to the area where the ascent to the plateau was gradual. He didn’t want to leave his mount at the base, preferring the company the animal gave him. Letting the horse choose its footing through the high grasses and wildflowers, they made their way through canyons so remote his mother used to say if you wanted to hear a rooster crow back here…you’d better bring your own rooster.
Once he arrived at the summit, Benjen ground tied his horse, pausing to give him a gentle rub. “You’re a good boy, Zeus. Eat some grass while I tend to business.”
Walking a few dozen yards farther, he came to the entrance to the cave where he’d stored his implements. Just inside the dim interior, there was a large flat rock that served, for want of a better word, as an altar. Going a little deeper within the confines of the cave, he found the leather backpack which contained his things. After pulling it from behind the boulder where it was hidden, he knelt by the altar and spread out the things that would help focus his thoughts.
Solemnly, he examined the contents. A red willow stick for its healing powers, sage for cleansing, sweet grass for blessing, a strip of red felt for protection, and a turquoise for guidance. The last two items were the most important, a terracotta box held earth from his father’s resting place, and an eagle feather to give his prayer wings.
After lighting the sage, he raised his hands in supplication. “Grandfather, Sacred One, teach me love, compassion and honor, that I may heal the Earth, and my own heart.”
With this simple plea, he began the ritual, whispering words of remembrance, offering an invocation of tribute to the woman who’d meant the world to him. Stripping off his shirt, he touched the raised scar of his sorrow, then opened the medicine bag to dip his finger inside. With a slow, deliberate motion he spread the pollen across both cheeks, a sign of his respect and gratitude for the privilege of knowing and loving his chosen. “I wish you were still with me. I don’t understand why you were taken away. Know that you made a difference in my life. Not a moment we shared was wasted. The love you gave to me, the love I gave to you, this has made me a better man.”
Bowing his head, he sat still for long moments, letting his heart tell Kelli goodbye.
When he felt the heavy mantle of lamentation lift from his shoulders, Benjen rose and put away his things. He would go forth with the determination to find love and joy.