Takes One to Know One by Kate Allen

Author:Kate Allen [Allen, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780934678742
Publisher: New Victoria Publishers
Published: 2000-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

"I think that this is too important for apologies," said Hawk. That's okay, thought Alison, you're not going to get any. If she ever had anything to say to Michelle, it wasn't going to be any of Hawk's business. However, Stacy's pinches made her keep her mouth shut.

"Our goals have not been shown any respect at all," Hawk continued. "These women have made fun of them, and sabotaged them and then attacked another woman. I don't see how that can be healed." She looked over at Alison with a vengeful eye. Hawk, for one, obviously thought that the best solution would require some kind of torture.

"They don't have to stay," said Seven. She must have taken a negotiation class. "But wouldn't it be great if we could part with better energy between us?"

Again, everyone looked at everyone else. Better energy sounded good to everyone. It even sounded good to Alison who, to her supreme frustration, could not catch the eye of any of the women she assumed to be her allies. Stacy and Liz were either giving the Mariposa women sympathetic, really-sorry-it-turned-out-this-way looks or gazing across the desert as if seeing a vision. Michelle, of course, kept her head down.

"I don't see how these women,"—my, it sounded nasty when Sandpaper said it!—"are going to have any respect at a healing when they haven't had any respect at anything else." She glared at Alison and Stacy who respectively returned a bland look (Stacy was pinching again) and a doe-eyed, misunderstood glance.

"They don't have to stay," said Seven. "But wouldn't it be great if we could just take all this bad energy between us and send it off the land?"

By UPS, Alison thought, but did not say.

There was a bit more fencing, and Seven Yellow Moons repeated several more variations of her one line. Finally, between Gaya's anxiety, Michelle's request, Stacy and Liz's sudden placidity and Seven's gentle, relentless pressure, a healing ritual was agreed upon by all parties. They all, polled like a jury, agreed to meet at the sweat lodge an hour after the sun went down. Towels, and warm clothes for afterwards, were required.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Denver gals spent the evening down at the Fun Camp, Stacy cooking some kind of marvelous rice and vegetable dish with a side of cornbread in the dutch oven.

"How come you'll cook over a campfire but you won't cook at home?" asked Alison idly as she sat, stuffed, beside the fire.

"Hmm?" Stacy was a little distracted—she seemed to have her mind on something else. Alison repeated the question.

"Oh." Stacy squatted back on her heels beside the dutch oven, considering this seriously. "The Girl Scouts," she said. "I mean, I could tell right away when I was a kid that this cooking thing was for the birds. My mom and grandma were at the stove night and day—they cooked and they cleaned up and my dad and my granddad and my brother ate and then went in to watch tv without saying thank you. Wasn't anything I was interested in.

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