Mystics of the Tuolumne

Metamorphosis #

"Dahlia hurry up you have to eat breakfast and get to school." Dahlia was usually so punctual. Ericia was mystified by this mornings dawdling. Ericia caught her breath and brought her hand up to her chest. When Dahlia walked into the kitchen with a blush on her face. Ericia's was all agog. Her little girl went to bed last night and awakened a "Cinderella".

Joel kept looking at his sister as they walked to school. "What do you keep looking at?"

"You." He quipped.

"Why?" She smiled.

"You look like a lady today." She laughed and threw her arms around him. He squirmed away from her embarrassed to be seen hugging a girl even if it was his sister.

Heads turned when they got to school. Not all of them were smiles. A current of underlying jealousy and feeling of invalidated privilege ran through the other girls at school. Resentment bearing on a half-breed having the audacity to be beautiful. To be in fact the most beautiful girl in school and probably the county. The teachers now called her Miss Vaca not just Vaca or Dahlia. It was amazing to be elevated to a position of some providence when just yesterday she was, "that freak breed."

"Don't expect me to be surprised. I saw you like this when we first met," Albert said to her under the willow tree at their meeting spot.

"Thank you for being my friend when I was the ugly duckling." She saw that things between them had changed. They were better. She ran a visual scan over Albert. His chest was full now, not sunken. He stood proudly and erect. He was now about two inches taller that her. His Biceps and forearms had muscle definition. They looked strong. His narrow face had spread and he no longer looked like a skinny skeleton.

They both laughed and reached for the other's hand simultaneously. They talked about the places Albert had been. Dahlia shared Albert's love of written words. She loved poetry and wrote some herself. Albert was captivated by philosophers of the last century who were advocating the study of the psyche. He wanted to understand what the gifts actually were.

"Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?" Dahlia asked as she sashayed right and left. The behavior might have been coquettish by anyone but Dahlia.

"I think the whole world knows except my family." He chuckled.

"I don't think my Momma knows;" Dahlia looked up as if trying to read a hidden sign.

"Should we tell her?"

"Should we tell your parents?" They both broke into laughter.

"Maybe not" They both giggled. They sat down on a soft bed of fallen leaves that had been there for years. When the mulch was disturbed, there was a beautiful musty but clean smell that filled the air. They talked about the animals on the smallholding. They also sat silently and enjoyed their gifts interacting with each other.

"I have to go home now," Dahlia said and stood up. She reached her hand out to help him up. They departed as per their newly established security protocol.

"Dahlia I need some help with cooking a very special supper," Ericia told Dahlia. "Bring in some table grapes, twenty ripe apples, and some fresh new potatoes. You got all that?" Ericia had and enchanting smile as she was bustling around issuing orders.

"Why are you making a Sunday dinner on Tuesday?" Dahlia was puzzled.

"We are going to have a guest. Now shoo along and I will tell you more when you've completed your tasks." Ericia said while making a shooing motion with the back of her hands.

Twenty minutes later Dahlia fairly bounced back into the kitchen. "I know who is coming but I don't know why." She announced with girlish glee.

"Yes, Mr. Rassenkamp is coming to supper. My horse threw a shoe and he stopped what he was doing and shod my horse. When I tried to pay him, he refused to take money. He told me that a good home cooked meal would be more than enough payment." Ericia was showing signs of interest in more than horseshoes. She was wearing her best turquoise squash blossom necklace and earrings and a smile brighter than the sun.

Dahlia thought, "How radiantly beautiful my Momma is, both outside and inside. No wonder Albert thinks I am beautiful. I am a reflection of her."

The table was set with Abuelitas handmade plates and bowls. It also had the place settings that Uncle Dario had made from gold and silver that he had found along the river before the Yankees came. The table cloth had been hand tatted by Ericia when she was a student in the convent school for Indian girls in Merced.

Dahlia thought, "This might be Momma's way of courting."

"He's coming and he has flowers for you." Ericia knew not to question Dhalia's gift but, to work with it.

"How long?" Ericia was in the culminating stage of her preparations.

'He's walking but, he is going to stop by and visit a few minutes with Mr. Echeverria. Do you want to know what they are going to talk about?" Dahlia tilted her head and smiled a little smirky grin.

"Hija mia! No! I do not want to know this man's private business." Ericia softened, "Yet."

Mr. Rassenkamp came to the door with unmistakably red colored flowers. Admission and introduction formalities were executed to old California perfection. He was seated at the head of the table. Ericia was bustling around trying to improve perfection.

"Please call me BJ," He politely asked. "When someone says 'Mr. Rassenkamp' I look around for my father." He ate with relish and delight. Dahlia kept a lively banter with him and Joel asked him mire questions than existed in spoken language. Ericia and BJ spoke thousand of words in their looks, glances, and smiles showing interest and approval.

Before BJ could gracefully take his leave, Joel pops a question.

"BJ, can you come to supper tomorrow ?" It was honest and heartfelt.

BJ picked him up and embraced him in a bear hug. "How about tomorrow evening, you just you, boys night out, come to the shop and we'll cook Portuguese sausage on the forge coals?"

"Wow, you bet. Can I Momma?" Joel was so excited he hardly knew his father and hungered for a role model.

"May I." Ericia thought she was correcting his grammar.

"No Momma it is just for boys." Everyone but mJoel laughed. "I don't understand."

'Joel, listen and pay attention. You MAY go." Elation and joy were palpable. "Dahlia help me with the dishes." Dahlia brought water in from the pump. The kitchen was cleaned. Dahlia and Joel went to bed. Ericia sat up and read by the light of an oil lamp. She sighed and beamed with contentment.

Stomping on the porch brought her out of her reverie. The latch on the locked and barred door rattled. Dahlia came running with more of a war whoop than a scream. "Momma, I am so sorry, I thought it was a bad dream." She caught her breath and glared at the door. "It is Poppa, don't let him in."

"How can we have a decent life if this burro loco will not let us live in peace." Ericia snorted angrily.

"I can make him stop Momma...forever." Dahlia only knew her father as someone who beat and insulted her mother.

"No Dahlia. I know what you can do, and I know what your good heart cannot live with." After the short calm, Miguel returned apparently with the axe from the tool shed and started attacking the door. There was the sound of a long scrape on the door. Miguel started screaming. It sounded like pain and anger.

"I did not do it, Momma. I didn't do anything." Dahlia's heart was frozen. She didn't know if she had somehow accidentally unleashed her gifts on her Poppa, or if she did not have the control she thought she did. Dahlia and Ericia spent the rest of the night together huddled in the yellow glow of the oil lamp.