Posted by: Bruce Proctor | December 17, 2009

Dragonfly Dream, part 3 of 3

Continued from part 2

I went back to town and told Eric I’d be going through this initiation and didn’t know how long it would last. I noticed then a dark-skinned native girl hanging around me, in the background. “How old are you?” I asked. “Fifteen.” She was not pudgy, but thick, baby-fattish, and hardly developed. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I am to be your consort and wife through this transition.” I was. . . flabbergasted!

Telepathically, though,  I learned that this was obligatory on my part, an integral part of tribal tradition and necessary support for me. I also understood that she, with a few other girls, had been training for this position all her life, and it was an essential rite of passage for her, too. “My” girl, it turned out, was very serious and intent about this role with me. I was touched by this, and in fact, soon found her very sweet to be with.

On our way back to the village, off the path and over a wooden fence that supposedly cordoned it off, was a desert badlands, all gray clay, bare peaks, gullies, and hills, wet from a rain just ending. A few older Indians, women and men, in Navajo Res-like dress (women in full skirts, men in worn work trousers), were already there, scooping fistfuls of the stuff into pockets and jackets. My young consort said we should do this, too. I don’t know why.

End of dream.

The dream seems to me now not so much linear, but almost like a series of tableaus, or beautiful facets. Faceted, it now occurs to me, a bit like dragonfly eyes.



  1. This is beautifully written. It reads like a short story and I wonder if there is more it wants to tell you.

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