The American Café

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83 14 The graveside service for Pearl Elizabeth Mobley lasted less than twenty minutes. The Indian preacher from the Liberty House of God Church read a short passage from his Bible and offered a prayer, half in Cherokee and half in English, before the small group dispersed. Sadie sat with Emma, watching at a distance from inside her Explorer. Although Emma had suggested they attend, at the last minute she’d decided she was “unwilling to stand near the coffin of her sister’s murderer.” The wound, she said, was simply too fresh. “I thought I’d be glad she was dead,” said Emma. “You know the Bible says ‘an eye-for-an-eye’ . . . ” Sadie listened to Emma talk, unconvinced that Emma really understood the true context of that Scripture and doubtful that Emma could actually stomach that philosophy in real life. She had hoped Pearl’s suicide would perhaps bring some sort of closure and help lessen her new friend’s pain. But so far, it hadn’t. Sadie could see Red and Lance standing near the cemetery gate but she didn’t recognize anyone else. She shifted her gaze to the other side of the road. A mixed herd of Charolais and Hereford cattle ambled across a large pasture, with several steers grazing by the fence among a flock of white egrets. Her mind wandered as she watched the long-legged, longbilled , white birds feeding on insects on and near the livestock. Emma disturbed the silence. “Are those herons?” “Egrets. Similar to herons, I guess.” “The Old Testament forbade humans to eat herons,” said Emma. “They’re awfully skinny birds for anyone to consider for dinner.” Then she sighed. “I should have come sooner. I waited too long to work things out with Goldie. If only I could turn back time . . . If she’d just found a nice white boy to marry, everything would be different.” Emma turned her face away from Sadie, and the silence in the vehicle returned. 84 Behind the small herd, Sadie noticed an Indian man emerge from a ravine carrying a minnow bucket and a fishing pole. He crossed the pasture toward a dilapidated truck resting on the shoulder of the road. A small boy ran from the same narrow valley to catch up with the man, holding his hands straight out in front of him. As the two got closer, Sadie realized the youngster had a crawdad in his right hand. The gleeful look on his face propelled her mind back to her first crawdad catch. As a young child she had stood motionless in a cold stream, the water barely below her knees. Her grandmother slowly reached into the water and began lifting flat rocks. The crawdads either zoomed away when the old woman removed their shelter, or lay deathly still, camouflaged against the flint rocks on the bottom of the stream. Aiming carefully at the midsection of the crawdad, steering clear of the pinchers, she had grabbed her first crawdad. The surprise and elation of her first catch still remained with her today as she recognized that same joy reflected in the young boy’s face. “What in the world has that boy got in his hand?” asked Emma. “Tsisdvna,” replied Sadie. She grinned and looked at Emma. “Crawdad.” “What’s he going to do with it?” “Probably take it home for his momma to cook, so he can eat it. I hope he has more than one,” Sadie laughed. “That’s gross.” Emma’s voice registered alarm. “You grew up in Oklahoma and never ate crawdads?” Sadie sounded surprised. “Good gracious, no.” “Lots of Indian people eat crawdads,” explained Sadie. “This is the best time of the year to catch them. You just clean them, take off the pinchers and the shells if you want to, roll them in flour, and fry them just like anything else.” “Some people will eat anything.” Emma sounded disgusted. “I think I’ll pass.” “It’s a traditional Cherokee food, and no different than eating any other crustacean.” Emma wrinkled her nose. Sadie elaborated. “You know, like lobster or shrimp, except crawdads live in fresh water. Lots of Cajuns eat boiled crawfish. It’s the same thing.” “Oh.” Emma turned her face away from Sadie again. 85 Silence returned. As Sadie watched the crowd disperse through the gate, she wondered if Emma had any idea how offensive her comments sounded. In...