Tanayia by Connie Vines

Author:Connie Vines
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: national book award nominee, apache girl is kidnapped and sent to boarding school in 1880, apache sun rise ceremony, native american ya sweet historical romance novel, strong native american heroine, sweet native american romance, well researched native american novel set 1880 new mexico
Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.

How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong look like right.

--Black Hawk

Sauk

Chapter 9

Anna Thunder sobbed, “Little Fawn.”

“Who stole the silverware? Answer me!” Sister Enid continued to shake the Comanche.

The teacher seemed to have lost all self-control, gritting her teeth and breathing heavily. Anna Thunder turned blue. And couldn’t catch her breath. Several moments later, I watched the Comanche’s eyes roll back and her lids closed. Her thin body went limp and she slumped to the floor.

Though my hatred for Anna Thunder ran strong and deep, it was a horrible sight. The vengeful way Sister Enid fell upon the Comanche filled my heart with anger—an anger that was impossible for me to conquer. Sister Enid’s actions and her words sickened me.

With a Nde war cry, I hurled myself at the teacher!

I didn’t blink when she brought her fist against my temple. My skull was tough. Nor did I flinch when she screeched in my ear.

There was something unnatural in the way Sister Enid looked at me. Her eyes were washed-out blue-green, like that of a dead owl. Unfocused. Unseeing. Yet fixed upon me.

I heard the sound of running footsteps.

Someone grabbed me by the collar and dragged me, feet flying, to the corner of the room. Once there, she threw me against the wall. I saw it was Sister Sarah when she grabbed a handful of my hair and pounded my head against the wall.

Slapping my face again, and again, Sister Sarah’s hand covered my cheek, until I thought I would pass out.

I asked the Creator to stop my tears, for they were pushing behind my eyes. I refused to let my enemy see a weakness in me.

I tried to stand, my weight supported only by the wall behind me as I edged myself to the corner. I breathed the smell of moth balls, of chalk clinging to Sister Sarah’s dress as she stood over me. Her teeth bared, the veins on her forehead bulging.

What was that sound?

It filled the room, filled every corner and spilled over into my mind, the high-pitched animal wail of despair, hopelessness. I didn’t know the voice was mine until Sister hoisted me to her camphor smelling lips.

“Shut-up, you little heathen. You’ll pay for this, girl. I promise you!”

My head throbbed hard against my temples and white flashes, like summer lightening, danced in front of my eyes.

“Sister Louisa! Sister Bernadette!” The head-mistress bellowed. “Come here!”

Sister Bernadette grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me into the pantry. Her large cumbersome body held the door fast against any attempt I might make to escape.

“Take the Comanche upstairs,” Sister Enid ordered.

“I’ll deal with the Apache girl later.”

Soon the noise and memory of Sister Enid and Sister Sarah seemed to fade away, leaving me in a dark world filled with quiet numbness.

I must have fainted, because the next thing I remember was standing at the top of a long stairway, supported by Sister Louisa and Sister Bernadette, while Sister Enid looked on.

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