An old woman looked up from placing something in the oven using a flat paddle on a long pole. “Ma n k’u wa ma,” she said to Robert and Sophie.
Obviously Tom had told her that he knew a few basic Tiwa pleasantries. “‘A k’u wa ma,” Robert replied. “My daughter and I are on a long journey by horse. We’d like to supplement the food in our packs before we continue.”
The woman nodded. “I’ve just taken some bread out of the oven, as you can see.” She smiled at the hungry look in Sophie’s eyes. “Have you had Indian bread before, young lady?”
Sophie shook her head and her eyes lit up with delight when the old woman put half a loaf of hot bread into her hands.
“Go on. Taste it.”
The girl took a cautious nibble, then two ravenous bites. The woman laughed. “I make the best bread in Taos. Ask anyone. They will tell you Tȕculóna is the only baker worth buying from.”
“How much per loaf?” Robert asked. “And do you also have some meat or vegetables?”
While they negotiated, Sophie looked around the courtyard. She had seen ristras before, in Estrella and in some of the towns they had passed through along their recent journey. But this was her first opportunity to examine them close up. The bright red chiles, wrinkled from the sun, didn’t look like any kind of food she had ever seen. And the corn! She had seen plenty of dried corn on the cob in Kentucky – they sometimes fed it to their pigs. But in addition to white and yellow corn, there were ristras of purple and bluish gray, which hardly seemed like proper colors for corn at all. She approached some blue corn slowly, trying not to attract the Indian woman’s attention. Now close enough to examine the individual kernels, she could confirm that the corn hadn’t molded – this was its natural color. What other remarkable things might she discover in this strange country? She thought about the alpacas she had seen the day before, and the turquoise stones for sale on the streets of Estrella. It was as if she had hopped on a train in Lexington and ended up in a fantasy world full of incomprehensible languages and fantastic plants and animals. Without meaning to, she giggled.
Robert and the Indian woman stopped talking and turned to stare.
Sophie clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s so funny?” the Indian woman asked.
She didn’t sound angry, but Sophie was nervous nonetheless. “I’ve never seen corn that color before,” she said.
“She’s spent most of her life in the United States,” Robert explained. “But her mother and I are from here. Now that there’s peace, she needs to be here, learning about her homeland and her ancestors.”
This answer seemed to satisfy and the negotiations for food continued. Sophie noticed they were discussing the price of honey and she wondered if it would look and taste like honey from home or whether it, like the corn, would be some unlikely color. She stifled another giggle and willed herself to concentrate on something else –anything else as long as it wasn’t funny.
She was staring intently at the trowel marks in the plastered walls of the courtyard when finally she heard her father say her name.
“Come on. I bought us a few things. Let’s leave this nice lady in peace.”
Robert thanked the Indian woman and said good-bye, then he took Sophie outside to where Tom was waiting by their horses. The man watched in silence as they apportioned their purchases between the packs on the two horses, then climbed into their saddles.
“Thank you for bringing us here,” Robert said.
“Be safe on your journey,” is all Tom said. “K’u ka-ma.”
“K’u ka-ma,” Robert repeated. Good-bye. He kicked his mare into a trot and Sophie fell in behind him. Soon the town of Taos and its pueblo were lost in the dust behind them. Straight ahead due east, were the mountains, green and inviting this time of year, but it would be slow going for the horses, even if the switchbacks were clear, of which there was no guarantee. But Robert thought of the extra food in his packs and the mountain streams he knew they would find along the way. The stop in Taos had been a wise move. They were well prepared for whatever lay ahead.
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