The sun pierced through the thin wisps of clouds and warmed my skin. I squinted up at it warily. Even though the summer never left our land, I usually appreciated the sunshine everyday. But today was different. A peculiar nervousness lingered on the typically tranquil breeze and the normally calm village felt uneasy. I looked down and pulled my daughter closer. She wiggled her toes and settled deeper into the folds of my deer hide dress without opening her eyes. I stretched out my legs, dangling them over the edge of the stacked pueblo. I swallow and ignore the anxiety growing in my gut.
“Liseli, come on! You should be at your tsilu’s by now! Quit dreaming out here and get to work.” I looked up and waved my hand in dismissal at my aging mother.
“Shoo Tsitda. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She stared down at me, looking strangely small. Her short legs were hidden by the  beaded dress that hung loosely off her shoulder and brushed the ground. Her long, silver streaked hair overpowered her wrinkled face.
“Alright, but there’s work to be done.” She sighed and disappeared from the golden edge of our home.
I looked back over our village. A group of men were already returning from a hunting trip. The fields had been barren this year, leaving our ribs exposed and the game sparse. Their hunt was successful today though, by the looks of the panting dogs pulling their sled behind them. Stacked delicately on the weaved boards was an antelope and a pair of large hares. Even from my distance, I saw the sweat glistening on the men’s tanned backs. A group of eager children rushed towards them, too old for their mother’s company, yet still too young to work. The dogs stopped and wagged their tails as the children rubbed their speckled fur. A boy stared up at the hunters with his small figure straight and his boney chest puffed out.  The men smiled at him and guided the group back towards the heart of the village.
I stood up slowly, but not carefully enough. Wenona, the baby, peeled her eyes open and squirmed, emitting a gurgle. I hushed her and adjusted the dress that clung to the thickness Wenona had left around my waist. My feet, still wobbling with sleep, stepped into the cool shade of our family’s home. The sun illuminated the doorway and cast hot shadows over the blankets, the baskets, the berries. Hot coals rested in the middle of the room. My bare feet flickered over the floor silently as I gathered my supplies. I slipped Wenona into her cradleboard and she screamed, her cheeks flushed as the piercing noise erupted from her small body.
“Wenona, shhh, shhh. Quiet now.” I rocked her back and forth, then grabbed the apdakunne dangling from the cradleboard. Rattling it in front of her clenched eyes, I clicked my tongue and she relaxed, quieting to a soft whimper. Her chubby hand extended towards the fascinating turquoise stone.“Need some of my luck?” A deep, smiling voice startled me.
“Halian, what are you doing here?” I smiled and stepped close to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around me and leaned in to look at Wenona.
“Look at those beautiful eyes. So beautiful, just like her mother.”
I watched Halian closely, my adoration obvious. He turned suddenly, his lips colliding with mine. I raised my eyebrows but didn’t protest. When he pulled away I repeated my unanswered question: “What are you doing here?”
“Tso’ya,” He spoke lovingly, “I am the Cacique’s son, I can visit my wife when I want without being punished.” He smirked. I smiled and shook my head. “And I forgot my bow.” He added with a childish sparkle in his warm eyes.
I grinned. “You lucky boy. That’s more like it.”
I still had a hard time believing we were married, we were adults, we had a child.
Some nights I would wake up, startled by his warmth. In a night panic I would shake him and whisper for him to hide from my snoring mother on the other side of the glowing fire.
“Liseli,” He would return my whisper in a sleepy voice. “There’s no secrets any more. My luck is with you.” He gently kissed me, then nestled deeper into the blankets. It was such a strange feeling, having no secrets. He always spoke of luck, of his lucky love, and it seemed to be true. His love blanketed me and brought nothing but love and good fortune.
“Aren’t you suppose to be at your tsilu’s?” Halian questioned, brushing my hair out of my face.

“Yes, I’m leaving now.” I wrapped my arms around his bare waist and looked up at him. His black hair brushed the top of his tanned shoulders and his dark eyes radiated kindness. Our lips met again, but this time we were interrupted by a screech. “Wenona, my daughter, one day you will not be so offended.” Halian teased softly, then kissed her forehead.Sitting on the thick rabbit fur rug, I weaved the straw reeds together. In and out, in and out. My calloused fingers were swift, trained and practiced. The basket still looked wild with the naturally yellow reeds standing up and sprawling out as I weaved up from the earth to the sky. I had just started this one this morning though, and if I worked fast enough this one would be ready for trading tomorrow.
We worked in silence. No words were exchanged but each flick of the wrist and each strip of reed was felt by all of us. We had nothing to say; we all lived together, ate together. We were a family with no gossip and nothing unknown. My aunt sat in the center, and we spread out around her like rays shining from the sun. First her daughters and granddaughters, then her sisters and their daughters. I sat almost on the edge, backed only by three young cousins who were not yet trusted with weaving. Instead they dipped reeds into the dye. The inky blue saturated a select few reeds and soaked their fingers, staining their skin and their souls. All was silent. One of Tsilu’s daughters sneezed, startling all of us.A dog barked in surprise too, or so we believed. We giggled for a moment, trapped in our naive humor. But the dog let out another yelp and jumped to her feet. A howl echoed in the distance and another and another. I quickly unfolded my legs, springing up. Wenona, who had been peacefully sleeping, let out a cry. I ran to the edge of the pueblo and looked out at the village erupting in panic. The dogs barked and the men began to shout. Some men paced hesitantly, others ran back toward the pueblos and a dozen stalked out into the open. Some dogs sprinted out with the men, charging something… someone looming in the distance. What was it?
             My heart began to throb as I watched with shaking hands in the gathering crowd of women. Some looked up to sky, murmuring softly, urgently. On the horizon stood silhouettes of animals with long noses and skinny legs. Horses, that’s what the Mexican tribes said they were called and with them came españols. Horror scurried up my spine.  Españols, they called themselves, and their horses. Huge creatures, related to graceful antelope but rode by big men, evil men carpeted in cloth with skin as pale as the moon.
My stomach clenched. The women began to scatter, Tsilu, her daughters, the sisters, all running towards their homes, towards their husbands. But my feet wouldn’t move.
“Liseli, come on, come on!” My mother repeated what she said hours earlier, but this time panic filled her voice. The same words, but now entirely different, molded by fear.
I did not respond. Silently, I watched the man leading the others, running towards the pale men, the  españols, and their horses, the Cacique’s son running towards the beasts, with only sweat on his back, no arrows. He was unarmed and running. I did not move. I could not hear the echoing of my mother’s voice. I could not feel her tugging on my arm. The pale men with their thick scarlet coats and their sharp spears. The Caciques son, running and sweating, his hands empty. The pale men gathering, appearing on the horizon. Coming and coming. More and more. Halian still ran, our loyal hound by his side. Running and running.
My mind was empty of words, but swirling with emotions. Fear and love and pain, agonizing pain. Piercing my mind, stabbing my heart, slicing my stomach and pouring out of my skin. Halian darting and running, then tumbling and collapsing. A blazing despair flew into my chest. I staggered back, clutching Wenona. A scream split my ears. My own scream, foreign to me.
“Give me your luck, Halian. I need your luck.” I sobbed, gasping for breath. I squeezed Wenona, curling her into my corso.
On the glowing horizon, the pale men stood. They held their heads high as the Zuni men halted, exposing their empty palms to the sky. The pale men straightened their shoulders, their silhouettes burning on our horizon.