Sister Nations: Native American Women Writers on Community

Esther Belin

Esther Belin Navajo Emergence I. She was born out of his cuss words and spittle probably urine-matted floors gave essence to his character and now to hers pumped through umbilical blood her teeth grinding down his bad habits his laugh with deceiving smile a possible caress right before he guts Ruby’s mother with words emerging from the bottom of his heel. When Ruby met her mother the only roots she could plant were bitter and twisted and contagious. From Ruby she wails. II. I often wonder which Easy Street he emerged mother only calls him Fast Car “That’s all I remember,” mother says passively “It was that kind of love you know that some way kind of connection. That 154 is how you were created.” My bet is a Capri a Chevrolet Capri deep, strong blue not too green solid blue with maybe some glitter there was sparkle from what info I can squeeze out of mother there was sparkle perhaps it was his eyes that mixed-blood blue sparkling through his eyes or just maybe it was his blue jeans with that just-right fit sparkling from his highly polished Pro-Rodeo silver buckle with real gold trim I have seen that kind before with pretty smile to boot maybe it was the smile How about a gold-rimmed smile a front tooth laced with gold trim sparkling from across the pow wow arena I hope he was at least a lead singer I hope from up north I always wanted to go to Canada perhaps there I will find him that Fast Car that got away 155 or ran away whatever the case I learned my lesson from that sparkle that sparkle so potent and tight bound into a confined space of beauty caustic with the least amount of heat my body still glows from the explosion Mother and Fast Car What a sight! III. My birth began at thirty-two from water to water when mother was ready to birth a consuming heat rushed her body being the middle of winter folks thought she was crazed bobbing in and out of the waves on the beach naked and alive with motion people snapped photos “An Indigenous Woman Returns to Ocean Homeland” one headline read “Indian Woman Commits Suicide on Beach” was a popular thought the salt water the muse from the waves were her doulas all she says is “Easy Street” It’s as if I just swam out of her womb into the arms of another sweet caress 156 One photo immediately after my birth mother is just laughing in bliss watching me swim still connected IV. I am still haunted by the voice or the hand the one that slams heads into dresser drawers shoulders into doorways hearts into heavy balls of clay and the pounding would get stung from the solid mass it created defending with only the emptiness not a sparkle of life in sight just a story that shivers me in my boots. Old Man Jones said he knew the man mother called Fast Car He’d begin “From up north, I believe . . .” The year he told me that story I started to learn “O Canada” the Canadian national anthem I sang in the shower on the school bus when I was alone 157 Mother looked at me a bit strange and I always thought I pulled one over on her and she’d just smile thinking I was working on a school project I even bought one of those Canadian flags the kind with the Indian man covering part of the maple leaf aim was big then so on Independence Day I sure raised that flag from our front porch Mother never did budge on offering any Fast Car info so I quit singing and packed away that flag by then it occurred to me mother probably never understood geography and my need to locate myself on someone’s map. 158 ...