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| Near Burnham Junction by � rustywire Looking around the place it was dry; there had been no water all summer. The sagebrush was a dull gray; the sun had baked the color of straw out of it. It was a long walk heading down the road, a single paved road that led from the junction back down the road sixteen miles to the small called Toadlena. The sun was hot and there was not a single breeze. The ground next to the road was parched, dry and cracked like an overdone chocolate chip cookie, hard to the touch and crunched when you walked on it. Walking, walking down the road walking to the mountain, the sound of horses stirring far off across the valley was the only sound that came through the still air. How hot it is, the Navajo car wash would have been a good place to rest, just off the road Northwest of Burnham junction. It was a spring that had been tapped as water well with a pipe running up like a gallows, it looked like a straight seven with a rubber hose attached at the end so water haulers could fill their empty barrels when they came to fill up their wagons or pickup trucks. A small switch at the base allowed you to turn it on a turn of the foot. Standing there you can hear the water as it comes up, making gurgling sounds and slowly it begins to flow out, slowly at first and then gushing out spilling all over the ground. The water, clean cool water splashing every which way. It could make a horse turn his head a mile away the sound of that water gushing out, the overflow running to a water trough nearby. Horse drawn wagons, would move as the old horses caught the scent of it. The water would come down like a shower turned full on, and you could watch it spill all over the ground, but why waste it. Slowly you step into it and feel it run all over you, from your head to your shoulders, down your arm and then down your back, it is cool and begins to get cold. Cars on the nearby highway going from Shiprock to Gallup drive on by with the little kids pressing the face against the window watching that wild Indian dancing under the well water, all soaking wet and laughing at them. Look Mom there's an Indian dancing around in the water! Without turning she says, Oh!, ok. So much for that. In a minute they are gone. I wonder where they are going, maybe California or Phoenix. Well so they are gone now, just specks cruising off to the southern horizon passing Newcomb on their way South. Oh, the water feels so good, the touch of it so refreshing as it runs over you, your hair, face, neck and on down your legs. The taste is cool and wet, there is nothing like the fresh taste of cool water on a hot day. Yeeee! I would like to stand here all day, just like this, but the horses that were so far away have found their way to the trough and looking like, hey, don't waste it, let us have a cool shower too. So you wave the rubber hose toward them and they neigh as they like the coolness of it, they flinch and prance, sidestepping back and forth, bobbing their heads as they too dance for their water. Hey!! You want a ride? Wa? Hey, get in, I'm headed back to Toadlena, do you want a ride? Wa, it's Manygoats, he stopped his Ford pickup and shouted out the window. Getting in, he says, you must be having heat stroke or something. There is some cold water in the jug by the seat, have some. You look burned up. Oh, I say, I was just thinking about Burnham Junction. Oh, that Manuelito woman at the trading post from there is back home, is that the one you were day dreaming about? No, she is my sister in the Navajo Way, I was just thinking about a horse I saw down there on the flat, that pinto. He looks over from the driver's seat and says, you have been in the sun too long, drink some water and let's head home. Just the thing I needed, a ride and a cool drink along the way, Ayeelah (thank you) Hosteen Manygoats. The wind picks up from the dusty plain, and the sound of rubber tires whines softly; looking out the window�now where was I, oh yes, the water was cool and running all over me as I was standing under it at that Navajo Car Wash near Burnham Junction; how nice it is and it feels pretty good alright. rustywire |
