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and braided, were so alike no one could mistake them as anything besides mother and daughter. And the
sorrow in their dark eyes as they looked at him only added to the similarity.
 Shiyáázh. His grandmother s voice calling him her son was as low and soothing as a wood flute.
 You made it.
Laura Bacchi and Bonnie Dee
 Shimá sání. Bryan released Sylvia s hand and crossed the final few steps to pull his grandmother to
her feet and into his embrace.
She hugged him hard. Her body seemed almost fragile despite its sturdy fullness.
 I m sorry, he whispered.
His gaze settled on his grandfather. If Grandma seemed old, Grandpa Butch was ancient and so gray-
tinged he appeared already dead. Only the harsh breaths wheezing in and out of his open mouth confirmed
that he still lived. He d been a big man, towering over his grandson until Bryan finally reached his full
growth and even then they d stood eye to eye. Now, he was diminished. His mahogany flesh was like
crepe paper draped over his bones.
Bryan watched his mother lean forward and dampen his lips with a moist towel. She looked clear-
eyed and clean, but then she d had good spells before, sometimes for as long as a year. They never lasted.
Bryan released his grandmother and took her chair beside the bed. He glanced at Sylvia, standing near
the foot of the bed, acting so much braver than he d hoped she could be. Throughout the long drive and
now faced with people she d never met, she remained composed. Being catapulted from captivity to this
family drama couldn t be easy, but she was handling it well.
 This is Sylvia. My girlfriend. His eyes locked with hers to gauge her reaction. Color filled her
cheeks, and she didn t look away. A good sign.
His family murmured greetings while he turned back to his grandfather and took his hand. Bryan tried
to imagine Grandpa Butch could actually hear him.  I m sorry I kept you waiting, shicheíí. I m here now.
He paused, wondering how he could encompass everything he needed to say in mere words.  I want
you to know how much I love you, how much I learned from you. If I can become anything like the man
you are, I ll be proud.
There was no change on the slack face. Another harsh breath rattled from his chest. Bryan glanced at
his mother across the still body between them.
She smiled at him.  You must be hungry after driving all night. I ll get you something to eat. Rising
from her chair, she walked toward the kitchen, inviting Sylvia to go with her.
Bryan felt a rush of gratitude to Sylvia for making this so easy. He wouldn t have imagined bringing
her home to meet his family, but she appeared at ease, nothing like high-maintenance Simone. God, what a
disaster that visit had been! What had possessed him to think he could show Simone where he came from
and expect her not to be appalled by it?
A light hand dropped on his shoulder and Bryan glanced up at Grandma Naomi by his side. He
covered her hand with his.  How are you doing?
 Not good. I knew it would be hard, but helping him cross over is worse than I imagined.
 Couldn t the doctor 
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Butterfly Unpinned
 Your Grandpa and I agreed when the time came there d be no hospital, no doctors or drugs. It s how
he wanted it.
 But, shimá sání, the passing could be so much easier with a morphine drip.
She stroked his hair with her other hand.  Sometimes a transition requires struggle. Remember the
butterfly?
How could he forget? As a child, he d found a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. He d tried to help it
by prying open the husk to set the insect free. It had lain in the sun, beating its wings as they dried, but had
never flown and soon died. His grandmother explained the butterfly needed to go through the difficulty of
freeing itself in order to have the strength to fly.
Bryan couldn t help but hope his grandfather s end would be soon, because the struggle for each
breath was agonizing to watch.  Shall I carry him outside? he asked.
 Yes. I don t think there s much time left.
It wasn t Diné custom to die indoors where the spirit might continue to haunt the living. Releasing the
soul to the open sky was important. Bryan lifted the old man s body, frail but still heavy and awkward to
gather into his arms.
Outdoors, Bryan s spirit lifted. The sky was an aching blue from one horizon to the other. The painted
hills rose all around them and a breeze ruffled his grandfather s hair. This was exactly where Butch would
want to die, in the midst of the land that was a part of him.
Bryan laid him on a woven blanket his grandmother had spread in the shade of the only tree for miles.
He recognized the pattern of the blanket, which had covered him many times in his childhood. The
familiarity was a simple comfort.
He sat on his heels and listened to Grandpa s labored breathing and the echoing cry of a hawk
somewhere in the distance. Grandma Naomi lowered herself to the ground on the other side of her husband.
 Sing with me. Help me send him on his way. She began the song of passing, her flutelike voice
nasal as she chanted. The words were repetitive, so, although Bryan had never sung the death song before, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]