JOSETTE WANTED TO make a medallion using tiny, faceted beads, but so far she had only managed to bead a circle about the size of a dime. Snow was working on a pair of moccasins, and on a quilt, which she helped her grandmother sew in strips every so often just to see the quick progress of a thing. They had a soft cutting board, a razor-sharp cutting wheel, and a big plastic fabric guide. Making long strips of cloth with one razor swipe was satisfying. Mrs. Peace was sorting, as she did endlessly, through her tins of letters and papers. She was surprised to have received an extremely cordial answer from the historical society, which had changed names and venues through the years. The president had promised to look into the matter of the first LaRose.
Because of that law, said Snow. Museums have to give us back our sacred stuff, right? And our bodies. Native Graves and Repatriation. I did a report.
So macabre, said Josette, chasing the tiny beads around a jar cap with her needle. Snow didn’t even mark out the word as on the latest vocabulary quiz, because they always used interesting words now. They were known for it.
I want her back, murmured their grandmother. She can rest down the hill with her family. We’ll get LaRose her own lantern.
Oh no, I have to rip this out again.
Josette slumped over and rested her head on the table, beside the cigar box of beads.
How come I suck at this? What kind of Indian am I?
She sat up, threw down the circle of plastic and Pellon with the tiny circle of unevenly stitched beads.
Don’t do that, Snow said, retrieving it. You’ll lose the needle. Grandma will sit on it. Snow took her sister’s beadwork, plucked up beads with the end of the needle, and began quickly connecting them, adding circular rows of copper, gold, and green. Relieved, Josette watched the circle enlarge.
You’re so good at beading, she said comfortably. I like to watch you.
You picked hard beads to use, said Snow. Cut-glass 13s.
Josette touched her sister’s added circles.
So perfect. Makes me sick.
Snow wagged the circle toward her, and Josette flinched away.
Keep going! Please!
Snow took back the medallion, the size of a quarter now.
After she’d beaded a few more rows on, she glanced at Josette and asked who the medallion was for. Josette didn’t answer. The sewing machine whined as Mrs. Peace put her slippered foot to the pedal.
Dad? Coochy? LaRose?
Thanks so much, said Josette to her sister, holding out her hand. I’ll take it back now.
Oh, sweet! It must be a surprise for me. Snow held the medallion out of Josette’s reach. You’re such a good sister! Making me a present! Awww, ever cute. I don’t deserve this!
For sure you don’t, shouted Josette. Give it back!
Is it for Hollis?
Josette snatched the circle and pricked her finger. She began to bead again, then dropped the medallion and put her finger in her mouth.
See now? You made me bleed on it.
Ooooo. Old-time love medicine.
Bad medicine!
Mrs. Peace lifted her foot from the sewing pedal. She snapped her thread against the cutter.
You don’t drop woman’s blood on a man’s belonging, she said.
Mmmm. Snow wagged her eyebrows at Josette. Miigwech for sharing that wisdom, Nokomis.
So Grandma, said Josette, poking her needle laboriously in and out. I thought only moon blood could hurt a man’s things. But it’s all of the blood inside our womanly bodies?
Oh, what do I know. Mrs. Peace shrugged. I was a teacher in the whiteman schools. New tradition rules come up all the time. You’ll laugh. Sam says to Malvern that she should wear a skirt to ceremonies so the spirits know she is a woman. Okay, says Malvern, soon as you wear a diaper thing, a breechcloth, or keep your pecker out so that the spirits know you are a man. And while you’re at it, you men should go back to using bows and arrows and walk everywhere you go. These traditions? You’d have to ask Ignatia-iban, but she’s off in the spirit world.
Mrs. Peace said this with energy, and waved her arm at the window as though Ignatia were off on a vacation enjoying herself.
So, a medallion for Hollis, said Snow. Does that mean . . .
We ever talked that way? No. But maybe I want to do something special for him. You got a problem with that?
Course not, said Snow. Here, let me help get that next color on.
Again, Josette surrendered her work and watched her older sister straighten out the beads and add more.
Can we put a movie on, Grandma?
You got one of those mechanical people movies?
We’re so psyched, said Snow. We found Terminator in the sale bin.
Mrs. Peace crowed. Make my day!
That’s Clint Eastwood, said Snow. He plays real guys. And he’s ancient.
Not to me. He’s just a pup.
You like Arnold, too.
Arnold’s in it? I’ll be back.