“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. He saw that she had lost weight. She was still a large woman, but not as large as she had been. He held her hand tighter.
“Now I can go in peace,” she said softly. “Machu awaits.” She smiled weakly at him. “I am so tired.”
“Shimaa, not yet,” Jack said, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t go. Shitaa’has waited this long for you, he can wait a little longer.” He felt tears welling up in his eyes.
“I have only been waiting to say good-bye to you.” Her eyes were suddenly crystal clear. “How is life with the white man,shiye’?”
“Enju,”he managed.Good, it is well. He would never tell her the truth. That he could walk in both worlds, white and Apache, but not easily. That he did not belong to their world and could not remain in this one.
“Have you chosen a warrior’s name for yourself, son? The time has long passed for you to take a proud, brave name.”
“Yes,” he murmured, not wanting to tell her.
“Tell me.” She smiled.
“Jack Savage.” He regarded her steadily and could not miss the disappointment that rose in her eyes.
“A name of thepindah.”
“Yes.”
“First you leave the people to live in their world. Now you choose their name. Are you turning your back on the people, on everything your parents have raised you to be, have given you?
“No,shimaa, no.”
Nalee sighed wearily, trying to raise herself up. Jack gently propped her up, a tear spilling onto his cheek. “Don’t distress yourself,shimaa. It’s not important.” But of course it was.
“It is important. When my son comes home wearing a white man’s name, it is important. You are as much Apache as white, shiye’, and you must never forget it—Niño Salvaje.”
A command, using his name of childhood. “I could never forget, believe me,” he said, very softly.
“‘Jack’ was the name your natural father gave you,” she mused, stroking his hand. The great warrior Cochise named you Niño Salvaje. I will know you from today as Salvaje—the Fierce One.”
Jack fought the overwhelming urge to cry. Not now, he told himself, it is too soon.
“Soon you will marry?” It was a hopeful question.
“There is no one I want,” he replied honestly.
“Then find someone, Salvaje,” she said. “You are too fine a man not to have sons.”
The mention of finding a woman to bear his children added to his grief in one vivid, painful memory. He could still see Chilahe, his first wife, lying so still and dead, in a pool of all her life’s blood, their daughter stillborn. But the way his mother had used his name had turned her wish into another command—one he could not refuse. “Yes,shimaa,”he said respectfully.
“There is always Datiye. She still wants you. She would remarry you.”
Jack nodded, choking up from deep inside.
“But I feel in my heart that you will take a white wife this time. I do not understand. Although white blood fights red blood in your veins, your heart and soul are Apache.” She closed her eyes. “One day,shiye’, you will have to make a choice.”
Jack lifted her hand to his face. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks. And her words echoed. Didn’t she know that he had already made his choice?
Nalee had fallen back to sleep. Shozkay came in and the two brothers sat with her for a long time, until the moon had risen well into the sky. No one interrupted, respecting their right to be with their dying mother. Somewhere around midnight she awoke, asking for water. Shozkay raised the bowl to her lips, helping her to drink. “I see Machu,” she murmured. “Still as handsome as the day we met.”
Jack stroked her hair. “Yes,shimaa.”
“He beckons. He is very happy,” she said, so softly he could barely hear.
Nalee died an hour later. Her breathing suddenly slowed and stopped. Just before she died, she opened her eyes and smiled at her sons.
