Too Close for Comfort

As a result of our many years in the trading post business, Steve and I have developed a few hard and fast rules to live by. One is, when purchasing items from a Native American artist, never show an emotional attachment to the art before you own it, because there is never a hard and fast value on any particular piece of art and it is up to us to make a fair deal for the artist, the customer, and ourselves. The Navajo people are very much in tune with the subtleties of life, and they notice body language and emotional nuances that others easily miss. Value often fluctuates in direct proportion to our level of excitement and interest.

Steve and I strive for a relaxed demeanor and poker faces when dealing with Navajo sellers; otherwise values can quickly be blown out of reasonable proportion. Exclamations of delight are best left out of the equation until ownership has been firmly established. After that. let the festivities begin.

Secondly, do not become too emotionally attached to any particular artist or their work. Such a relationship can cost you in more ways than you can imagine. One such example is why Elsie Holiday asks for Steve, and Steve alone, when she comes into the trading post. My brother is so fond of Elsie’s art that he cannot contain his excitement when she brings in a basket. Consequentially, he is a soft touch for her.

Our usual rule of thumb is to avoid any attempts at being adopted as a family member, especially the "blood brother" option. I know a number of Anglo people who have been adopted into the world of the Navajo in such a manner and are quite pleased with those associations. These adoptees, however, do not come into such close emotional and financial contact with the characters we deal with on a daily basis. We experience firsthand what a commitment these relationships can be, and recognize the amount of time, effort, and emotional stamina it takes to be a "brother."

A few years ago, Lorraine Yazzie Black brought in a beautifully woven basket, which she carefully unwrapped and handed to me for inspection. As the transfer was made from her hand to mine, a good-size sliver of Sumac forced its way into my finger. I set the weaving on the counter and focused on removing the painful intrusion. Although Steve tried to catch my attention, I was intent on relieving my suffering and neglected his warning. As I drew the sticker from my appendage, a tiny drop of blood emerged from the wound and fell onto the basket. Steve's "uh oh," and the meaning behind it, began to work its way across my conscious mind. I looked up into Lorraine’s smiling face and had an inkling of what was coming. Before I could interject, Lorraine cornered me with her statement, "I must have poked myself and spilled my own blood on that basket a dozen times. Because yours has joined mine, we are now brother and sister."

I did my darnedest to talk my way out of the situation by pointing out my many faults. Much to my chagrin, Steve readily agreed with each and every point and reminded me of a few I had missed. He later stated that he was just trying to help me out of the predicament, but the smile behind his eyes made me wonder. Lorraine was having none of it; she knew she had me just where she wanted me and was not letting my neck out of the noose. I fussed and fumed, cleaned the basket thoroughly, and claimed ignorance to her customs and the responsibilities they demanded. Lorraine just shook her head, frowned at me, and said, "We are family. Get used to it!"

Both Steve and I have known Lorraine for at least forty years, and we like her a great deal. We just don't want to be directly related to her! Lorraine’s own family calls her Ma’ai (Coyote), which relates directly to chaos! The woman is a wonderful, outrageous, high-maintenance, out-of-control individual. I have enough people in my life with those very same traits---why would I want another? My stress increased as I noticed Steve nonchalantly moving out of harm's way in an effort to disassociate himself from the occurrence. So much for brotherly intervention.

I began negotiations on the basket, and the relationship. Steve had disappeared completely, so I felt no remorse in sacrificing him. I worked out a deal that provided her with a higher price than she would have normally received for her weaving. The other side of the compromise provided Lorraine with two blood brothers for the price of one. Same parents, same blood! Steve and I would share responsibility for our new sister on the basis of "catch us if you can." When Steve finally returned and discovered the terms of the contract, he complained bitterly but knew that Lorraine would hold him to our agreement. As far as I was concerned, it served him right for leaving the scene of an accident.