Well, as time passed, Peciwawala grew into a very
rambunctious girl. She wanted to be good. She tried
to listen to Gongi and do all of her chores without
having to be scolded, but something inside her
insisted she speak up! Something inside of her
sensed a freedom of Being, without form or reason...
invincible, infallible....always existing...
never having to answer for or take
responsibiity for our actions.
She could not contain or explain it, even to herself...
not even to Gongi. But Gongi already understood,
and that is why she tried so hard,
to be patient with Lali.
Lali was curious about everything, and found herself
at the heart of the universe. Her imagination
was bubbling over. She tried to stay with her work,
but the harder she tried, the more intense her
need to escape from it became. In her trips
into the forest, she found herself singing strange melodies
and stories, dancing in a way unknown to her before.
And whatever it was that was calling her...
she knew she'd find it somewhere.
She strained to listen for it's step..
The Voices were everywhere, in everything that lived.
It was in the melodious voices
echoing in perfect harmony, through the water rushing
over rocks and down to the great river below.
It was in the rocks and sky...everywhere pulsating
through her body's rivers.
She knew she had to come to terms with the
feelings she was having.
She couldn't just ignore them any longer.
To try to maintain silence made her angry.
Here in the forest, she could let it all out.
She could jump on a tree or roll in the grass
if she wanted to. And she wanted to and did!
Lali would go into the forest alone for many hours
at a time, even when her cousins wanted to play.
She liked being alone in the forest. She loved listening
to the water currents . She danced over the rocks
capriciously, repeating the melodies and rhythms
the water played with them. All the forest's creatures
would come out to see what the commotion was.
Then they'd run quickly back into their lodges.
They got used to her over time, and eventually,
just paid her no mind.
The turkeys and quails pleasantly minding their business,
walked all around her, pecking for bugs and worms.
She thought they were so perfectly incredible.
The forest was humming. Everywhere was life in motion.
The forest spirits were her guides and friends.
She saw their evaporating light forms.
They smiled at her. She wished she could be like them.
They showed her vistas, and tried to teach her virtue.
When she felt meloncholy, they comforted her
with melodies and rhymes. But it didn't help much.
She longed for her mother to return someday.
Until then, she turned to the Soul of Nature,
hoping to find some refuge there, to quiet her emptiness.
Whenever Lali was missing, she could be found deep
in the forest singing and dancing. She moved
in harmony with all the musical movements of life
around her. Calling and chanting, alone it seemed...
But she was never alone. No one understood how deep
within herself she had gone....deep enough to find
the Truth she was seeking. The friend that waits to guide.
She found it, and it connected with her. Now she
was whole again. She had gone there and come back.
She knew the path. Although her confidence and
sense of self grew...she was still a child,
and just as lazy and belligerent as ever.
She began to fall into trances and be distracted.
No one understood why. Gongi didn't believe it.
She would scold Lali and hit her to wake her up.
But it did no good.
Lali became very shy with the other villagers,
especially the children.
Even her cousins, Rizing of the Full Moon,
Ebi and Shiro remarked how she was different now.
But no one knew why.
Sometimes Lali wouldn't do her chores for days
and days. This made it very hard for Gongi,
who was getting older. First Gongi would weep.
Then, she'd go cut a new switch and go after Lali.
When she found her in the forest, she would
switch both legs good, all the way home.
Gongi and Lali had lots of good times together too.
Lali loved her grandma, inspite of all the
misunderstandings. They'd sit together sometimes
for hours, weaving and chatting.
Sometimes Lali would ask
about her mother and father.
Then Gongi would get impatient and
change the subject. That's when
another fight would ensue.
Gongi wove another little dolly for Lali of corn husks
and stuffed it with herbs and lavendar leaves.
It smelled so good. Lali kept it on her grandma's
bearskin bed and wove a little pillow for it too.
The old woman was very crafty and had
even made a beautiful buckskin dress for the dolly.
Lali was sewing little beads on it. She sat with Gongi
under the cottonwood tree that was near the lodge.
In the summer, they brought their beds out.
The air was so fresh and cleansed their
minds and hearts too while they slept.
They would awaken at Sunrize, greeting
each other happily.
The dolly had a painted face that showed
a big smile and the old woman had taken some of Lali's hair after combing, and saved enough
to make braids for the little doll. Indeed, the doll
looked very much like Lali herself.
As they sat there together in the shade of the
great cottonwood tree, one could see how much
alike they were becoming. Although one was old,
and the other young, one sat weaving and the other
sewing, they were both women, eternal, beautiful,
performing the endless tasks their lives and survival
demanded, so delicately inspiring music
from the ethers. They moved as the music Itself,
checking the fire, turning the bread,
wiping a smokey tear from their eye. There was
something timeless about them sitting there
together in the little breezes that skipped and
danced about, playing with their hair.
From time to time, Gongi would get up and
check the ceramic pot in which the stew was cooking,
rearrange the wood, and add a new log
or two to the fire.
Gongi was a good storyteller, and remembered
many stories that her mother and father
had told her when she was young.
Lali loved to listen, and wished she'd known
her great grandparents.
As time went on though, they understood each
other less and less. Lali more independant and
rude...Gongi more bent and less patient.
It was Lali's job to fetch the water and she had
learned to carry the jug by balancing it on her head.
It was a never ending job, and they always needed
more water. It was on these trips for water
that Peaciwawala would stop and rest in the forest
and not return home with the water until very late.
Sometimes the jug would break and she'd be afraid
to go back home. She still didn't like having to get
water, trudging back and forth all day, every day!
The jugs were so heavy!
Though she tried, she could never get out of it.
Gongi was always too busy to get it herself.
So reluctantly and wearily Lali would go, dragging
the jug behind her. That's how they'd break.
Then Gongi would have to give her a few whacks
with the switch. It hurt her to hit Lali.
But she knew no other way.
She was always so tired trying to keep up with her
own chores. At times, it hurt her so much
she would cry. When Gongi was alone,
she would cry. Her daughter Salanka
was used to it by now. She used to go running
when she heard her mother wail, but
no more. No one knew what to do with Lali.
Each day she got more and more aloof
and disrespectful.
Gongi rocked back and forth before her little fire, casting long shadows, tears streaming down
her face.
She shook her head, calling on the spirit of
her daughter Leula, to leave the world of the living now and Lali, and go forward to the next
world.
In this way they lived together, helping each other
the best they could. As time passed, one grew
taller and stronger,
the other, shorter and less able.
It happened so slowly, no one really noticed.
As each season passed, they were changing roles.
Lali was as tall as her grandmother now,
and really began to feel her growing power.
She refused to let anything restrain
her impulses now. It got, so
no one could stand her anymore.
Please go on to Chapter 3, page 5.
