The Roar of the Falls: My Journey with Kaya

I am working on a community garden with some classmates. It’s a mess, and I can’t help but compare it to my garden at home, where everything is planted in straight rows and separated neatly. This garden feels like the last place in the world I want to be. Our teacher, Ms. Wallace, assigned me to be the leader of a group of four of us. Unfortunately, I don’t have any leadership skills. I think I am the leader because I already know so much about gardening. But as I look around, I see that none of the other girls are focused or determined. They seem indifferent about our project. They’re not working together, and at this rate, we’re going to fail. I don’t know what to say to guide or lead them, and I am too scared to ask Ms. Wallace for help with them. I dig my trowel into the ground, and it hits something hard. I look down, and pull out a dusty shell. I stick it in my pocket.

When I get home, Mom and Dad try to give me advice on how to lead the girls. But all of that feels very overwhelming. I wish I was as confident as them. That night, as I’m sitting in my room, I pull the old shell out of my pants pocket. It’s round, the size of a half-dollar coin, with two small holes in the middle. Under the dirt, there’s pearly colors showing through all swirled together. I dig out my jewelry-making box and pull out some thin hemp cord to make the shell into a bracelet. I knot the last strands of hemp, and trace the circle around the edge of the shell with one finger.

Suddenly, the world spins and everything whirls around. Everything is dark. And then, the spinning stops, and I feel myself on the ground. I’m sprawled on a patch of damp grass somewhere. I pick myself up and see a broad river rushing by, with water crashing over black rocks. On both sides of the water, I see shelters shaped like huts and tepees. Footpaths meander up and down the sides of the bluff. I look down and see I’m wearing a brown animal-skin dress decorated with white shells, with fringe hanging down the front and back. I’m wearing moccasins around my feet and calves. The only thing I recognize is the shell bracelet.

Where am I? What happened? I tell myself not to panic. I look around. I see other people dressed like me. They’re American Indians. I stand up, and my knees shake. As I start to walk, the ground gives out from under me and I crash into the river beside me. Someone catches my arm, and I look up to see a girl’s face above me. She pulls me up the bank and helps me to my feet. She comments that my arms and face are scraped. She can help me clean up. She says her name is Kaya, of the Nimíipuu people. When I don’t know how to answer her question about where my camp is, she says she’ll fetch me water.

What happened? Kaya said she was Nimíipuu, but the Nimíipuu are now called the Nez Perce. What happened? One minute I was on my bed, and the next, I was here. I rub the shell on the bracelet again, and in a whirl, I’m back in my bedroom. So that’s what happened! And if I could go and come back, I can probably do it again. I picture Kaya’s kind face, and realize that I want to go back. I rub the shell, and the world spins again until I’m back outside beside the river.

Kaya rushes back towards me bringing a stiff pouch filled with water. It’s bulky and awkward, but I manage to drink. Kaya asks if I’d like to walk to her camp, or clean up first.