“Is it far to the Sun?” I ask. “We don’t have much time, and I was really hoping we could go sooner.”
“It is not a long distance,” she says, “but the road is hard. You must endure four trials in order to reach the Sun.”
“Trials?”
“But since you were able to defeat the monsters on Black Mountain, I’m sure you will be able to pass the Rainbow Road’s tests.”
I groan. “Why is everything a test?”
“All good things come through hard work,” she says. “If something is too easy to get, it isn’t worth much, is it?”
I don’t know about that. I once got a coupon for a free popcorn and bag of gummy bears at the movie theater and that was pretty good. But I don’t think that’s what Spider Woman is talking about.
“Come inside now,” she says. “You can help me make dinner.”
My stomach growls at the mention of food. I haven’t eaten anything since I had a sugar-free cookie with Black Jet Girl.
“Do you know how to make bread?” Spider Woman asks me.
“Is this another test?”
She laughs. It’s a really nice laugh, nothing like what I expected a spider to sound like. Especially one known for eating children.
“No, but it’s good to help out when you’re visiting family.”
I feel a little brightness spark inside me. “Are we family?”
“All Diné are related in one way or another, so we should always be helping one another.”
I can’t help smiling as the spark inside me expands. RC said we were extended family, too.
“Okay, I’ll try. I’ve never made bread before,” I admit.
“Not even frybread?”
“My dad never showed me. He said it was ‘struggle food.’” Then I’m embarrassed that I said something bad about him.
But she only nods. “Your dad is right. Frybread is not traditional, but there’s no shame in it. Your ancestors created food out of nothing, like magic. Flour, water, and baking soda were all they had, and they made something delicious. Now come inside and I’ll show you.”
We go back in and get to work. Spider Woman tells Davery to check on the beans she already has soaking on the stove and then get the cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes out of the refrigerator. She gives Mac a knife, along with a warning not to cut his fingers off, and he grins and grabs a tomato. Within seconds, he’s nicked himself, and Davery takes over the slicing while Spider Woman finds Mac a Band-Aid and demotes him to stirring the beans. Davery grates the cheese and chops the lettuce while Spider Woman and I work on the bread. She helps me mix the flour and baking soda and supervises as I add warm water a little at a time until the dough is sticky and elastic in my hands. We stretch it into flat circles about the size of a small plate and then plop them, one by one, into the hot oil. The bread sizzles as it puffs slightly into perfectly round golden deliciousness. Spider Woman has me grab each piece with tongs and set it on a paper towel to drain. When she says so, we pile on all our ingredients and sit around the table.
“This is so good,” Mac says as he stuffs his mouth. “I can’t believe Nizhoni made the bread.”
“Hey!” I protest as I take my own bite. The beans have soaked through the bread just enough to make it soft in the middle but not soggy, and the edges are still crisp. The cheese is melty and perfect. I can’t believe I made it, either, but I’d never admit that to Mac.
“I think your sister has more talents than she realizes,” Spider Woman says as she eats her own Navajo taco.
“Oh, yeah, she’s also really good at catching basketballs with her face!”
“Mac!” I throw a bean at his head, which he narrowly avoids.
“And what are you good at, Mac?” Spider Woman asks.
“I’m an artist,” he says proudly. “I can draw anything, and I make my own designs, too. I’m also handy with a water sprinkler.”
“And you, Davery?” she asks.
“I know things.”
“He knows everything,” I add.
He grins. “Not everything, but I am curious about stuff, and I have a good memory.”
“Quite a formidable team,” Spider Woman says, giving us all a nod of approval. And we all sit up a little straighter, feeling powerful under her praise.
Afterward, we take our dishes to the sink and wash them, putting them on the plastic rack to dry. Then I wander over to look at one of the looms. The rug in progress is a combination of browns and tans. It reminds me of the desert.
“Would you like me to teach you how to weave?” Spider Woman asks as she joins me.
“Maybe another time,” I say. “I kind of have a lot going on right now, what with the monster-killing duties and all.”
“I understand. But weaving can soothe the mind as well as the soul. There is beauty and harmony in it.”
“This one’s my favorite.” I brush a hand across another rug, red and black, with a white zigzag lightning pattern.
“Your mother liked that one, too.”
My hand freezes. In fact, my whole body does.
Spider Woman nods. “That’s right. Your mother loved this color combination, too. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you like the same rug.”
“When was she here? Recently?” I try to keep my voice calm.
“No, no,” she says. “She saw another version of this rug years ago. Like I said, she came though this way once.”
“What for?”
“She was seeking the way to the Rainbow Road. Same as you.”
“When was this?”
“Oh gosh.” Spider Woman pushes her reading glasses up on her forehead and scratches her nose. “That must have been…hmm, ten years ago, maybe?”
“My mom left us when I was three.…”
“About the same time, then,” says Spider Woman.
I’ve always thought Mom just abandoned us. But if she came here seeking the Rainbow Road, she must have been going off to fight a monster just like we are. Maybe she’d been trying to protect us.
“You might be the only person I’ve ever met who knew her,” I say. “I mean, besides my family.”
Spider Woman frowns. “Well, she seemed like a very nice lady. For a monsterslayer. They can be a little rough around the edges. But your mother, if I’m recalling correctly, was quite lovely.”
“I wouldn’t know. She never came back.” I drop into the weaving stool next to the loom.
She tilts her head to look at me. “Are you having a moment?”
“You have no idea.” I want to hear more about my mother, but a wave of exhaustion comes over me. Against my will, my jaw cracks open in a huge yawn. I cover my mouth, embarrassed, but Spider Woman only laughs.
“I think it’s time you got some sleep,” she says.
“It has been a pretty busy day,” I admit. “And last night I slept on a rock.”
She laughs. “I think I can do better than a rock.”
Spider Woman has an old trunk full of blankets and sleeping bags. Mac immediately goes for the Spider-Man one. I look over at our host and she winks at me. “Peter Parker is a total fave,” she says.