“When we get to Mama’s.”
Finally Chee turned the truck onto Bernie’s mother’s road and stopped in front of her little house. Mama usually went to bed early, but tonight the living room lights shone into the evening.
Bernie opened the passenger door. “Are you coming in with me?”
Chee shook his head. “I’ll hide out here until you see how things are. If she asks, tell her I had to make those phone calls about Darleen.”
Bernie nodded. “I can’t blame you.”
Chee watched her walk to the porch, open the front door, and disappear inside.
Mama must be unhappy with her baby daughter. When she saw Bernie, that would make two people on her bad side. And when she found out he was there too? He knew from long experience some situations were best left to the women.
Chee felt comfortable in the truck, away from the emotion-packed world of mothers, daughters, sisters, and family drama. He was happy to help; happier to stay out of the way. He liked Bernie’s idea of focusing on more help for Mama. If it worked, maybe they could plan another vacation—or even continue this one.
After a while he climbed out onto the road to stretch his legs and his back, feeling the residual warmth radiating from the tan earth. Another day with no rain, and no rain expected anywhere on the Navajo Nation or in the Four Corners for another week. Some years the summer rains had started by now, but this late June only brought baking heat.
Chee heard his phone ring back in the truck and trotted to catch the call. Cell service was spotty on the reservation, but, amazingly, their phones worked near Bernie’s mother’s house.
It was Paul. “So how’s Bernie’s mother?”
“I’m not sure yet. Bernie’s in there talking to her. I’m waiting, looking at the stars. How are you doing as a mechanic?”
“Not good. I searched for the battery. It looks like a box, right?”
“Right.”
“I guess this thing doesn’t have one. If Bernie’s mom is OK, could you come back tonight? Help me fix the People Mover? I hate to lose that job.”
“Let me see what’s up in the house of women. I’ll call you.”
Chee climbed back out of the truck again and looked at the sparkling sky. The stars always made him feel small, a little speck of life in the giant scheme of things—many of them unknown and complicated.
He walked toward Mama’s house. He could see Bernie sitting on the couch, Mama next to her. His mother-in-law looked like she’d lost weight, precious pounds she couldn’t afford to lose.
He knocked, and Mama and Bernie turned. Mama put her hand on Bernie’s leg and said something he couldn’t catch, and he realized he was in trouble. Bernie rose and opened the door.
In the years he had known her, Mama had been unfailingly polite, but tonight she dispensed with the pleasantries. “You came, too?” She didn’t wait for Chee to respond, or invite him to sit down. “You talk to this one. Talk some sense into her.”
Chee stepped inside. He had seen Bernie handle difficult situations and wondered what she had said so far. Whatever it was, it hadn’t worked.
Mama spoke to him again. “You two should not have come. I don’t know why she makes such a fuss about me.”
Bernie said, “I could use some coffee. I’m going to make some for all of us.” When she walked past him to the kitchen, Chee could tell she had been crying.
Chee turned to Mama. “The night sky is beautiful. Would you like to go out to the porch with me and see the moon?”
Mama considered the offer, then nodded. She struggled to rise from the couch, and he moved toward her, offering his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong, but she was trembling. He gently leveraged her to standing. She felt as light as bones baked in the sun. She pointed to the corner with her lips, the same way Chee’s aunt had always done. “Get that walking machine.”
Chee knew she meant the walker. He waited for her to stand more steadily and then helped her take a few steps. When she reached the back of the couch, he pushed the walker where she could grab for it.
Moving slowly, she headed to the front door. Chee opened it, and they made their way outside. They stood for a while, and then Bernie’s mother sat in the wooden chair, and Chee lowered himself onto the cement at her side.
Mama had grown up in a society where sons-in-law kept their distance, but the traditional Navajo world was changing. Chee thought some of the changes, like the end of the taboo against a woman’s mother and her husband ever catching sight of each other, were for the best. Death had taken Chee’s mother years ago. He considered Mama’s presence in his life a blessing.
“Did my daughter see Tsé Bii’ Ndzisgaii?” Mama used the Navajo name for Monument Valley.
“Yes. She smiled and smiled. My wife will tell you how beautiful it was. She took some pictures.”
Mama nodded. “I remember my uncle’s stories about how the Holy People left us those big rocks out there so the Diné could find our way through that place.”
Somewhere a coyote yipped, and another answered.
Mama spoke again. “Your wife thinks I am too weak to be alone.”
Chee watched a cloud flirt with the moon, and waited.
“She is stubborn, that one. She doesn’t listen to me so well anymore. You tell her to save her energy to take care of her sister.”
Chee said, “My wife looks like she’s been crying.”
Mama stared ahead, and the silence sat so long that he wondered if she had fallen asleep.
“She is angry with her sister, and she worries too much. And I think she is still sad about the old one who got hurt.”
Chee realized she was referring to the attack on Lieutenant Leaphorn that Bernie had witnessed.
“I told her not to come here,” Mama said. “When I look at her, I know her heart is still heavy, uneasy, restless, ever since that bad thing happened.”
They watched the cloud float in front of the moon, covering it like frost on a cold morning. Chee said, “May I share an idea with you?”
Mama nodded once.
“My wife would like to figure out how to best help her sister. She would enjoy your company. Seeing how strong you are would lighten her heart, help her return to hozho.” Hozho, harmony, contentment with the inevitable—a central tenet of the Navajo way. “I believe if you asked her to spend some time here at your house, she would say yes.”
He studied Mama’s face for a reaction. Discerned none. Continued.
“Some people say that it is a good thing for daughters to be with their mothers so they can learn from them. They say it doesn’t matter if the daughter thinks she is already a grown woman, she can still benefit from her mother’s wisdom.”
The wisp of a cloud drifted away, and the moonlight brightened. The fragrance of coffee wafted out onto the porch.
Chee stood. “May I bring you some coffee?”