An Anasazi Story by Jeff Posey.
Blue, Chumana thought and opened her eyes. Only the sound of Nuva breathing from her sleeping mat at the other corner and the faintest of orange twinkles in the fire gave the room depth in the blackness.
But in her mind, she felt a crystalline blue unlike anything she’d experienced in life, unlike anything the desert world of Totec Canyon had to offer.
Once as a child in the forest of the northern mountains, he father had brought her a bird and in its eye lived a liquid blue like what woke her mind.
She sat upright, crossed her legs, and let her backbone sag. She matched her breathing to Nuva’s sleep rhythm and in her mind two figures appeared in her blue bubble. She knew them: Tuwa and Choovio grown into men. They stood on a mesa overlooking Totec Canyon. Tuwa raised his arm and waved, and blue sand filled the canyon until nothing but a mound of blue remained. Tuwa had no choice, she thought without understanding, yet still he seemed sad. He turned and walked north, Choovio following, until they disappeared.
“You’re going home,” Chumana said to Tuwa’s back.
“What?” asked Nuva in drowsy alarm.
“Who’s going home?”
Chumana breathed deep and played the blue scene again through her mind, and then she told it to Nuva.
They sat in silence until Chumana heard the sounds of early cooks in the other rooms.
“What does it mean?” asked Chumana. “Will Tuwa ever come back? And what is the blue?”
“The color of the sky when it is not dark or blinded by noonday sun,” said Nuva. “Tuwa is a skywatcher. His power is the sky. He will use his power to snuff out everything that is not of the sky in Totec Canyon.”
“And then he’ll go home.”
“And we will go with him.”
“Oh, I hope so. I hope so.”
“We will. You have seen it.”
“I didn’t see us go with him.”
“Do you think he will go without you? I know what’s in the boy’s heart. It’s always been you, Chumana.”
“Unless he doesn’t know I live and that I’m here.”
“Then we must find a way to make him know.”
“I don’t know.”
Someone unloaded an armload of firewood onto the floor in the cooking room down the hallway.
“You’ll see a way,” said Nuva.
“I’ll dream of blue,” whispered Chumana. “He will come to me in blue.”
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Does the eye of the bird help your mental image, or is it extraneous?