He raised his chin; this he could discuss. He signed, "To frighten the enemy and to let them know I will be successful in killing them."
"Ah, I think I understand now. This is good information," she said with sign. "I know what you must do. You must paint your soul like you do your body when you go to war. Yes, you must use the paint as a shield for your soul. In this way, these evil spirits will know you are at war with them and you intend to be successful in this war."
"Paint my soul?"
Daasé Isée nodded. "You might say 'paint the essence of who you are.' My husband, I will help you to do this. Is there a particular way you paint yourself when you go to war?"
"Yes," he signed. "Each color symbolizes a quality about war. I cover my entire face in black, and then, with my fingers, I paint white and red stripes down my face. Black means death to my enemies; it also speaks to them of my power to overcome them. White is the symbol of mourning—as you know, I have been in mourning for my family. Red stands for war, blood, violence."
She nodded. "This is good," she signed. "But, is there a color that can thwart and keep evil spirits away?"
He nodded. "It is said that sometimes the color blue can protect one against evildoing."
"Ah," she replied in English, then signed, "This is good. And, do you have these paints with you?"
"I do. I carry them with me always."
"May I see them?"
Coming up onto his knees, he reached behind him for a particular bag. Opening it, he brought out several small items carefully wrapped within tied buckskin bags. Slowly, he untied the bags and set out each paint which was held within a shell. There were many colors: black, red, white, yellow, green and, lastly, blue.
"Good. This is good," she said. Then, with the gesture language, she said, "Come here, my husband. I am going to paint your soul so these evil spirits will no longer bother you."
Though he was stunned at this woman's insistence, as well as her courage and even her wisdom, he nodded.
Taking hold of the black paint, she dabbed her fingers in it, and, looking up at him as he sat before her, she signed, "I am going to paint your soul with this black color so your enemy, these spirits, will know you will be victorious over them and that you are unafraid of them." Then, rubbing her hands together, she made painting motions a little in front of his face without touching it. She then used the same motions with the black paint about an inch behind his head, then down over his shoulders, his chest and back, and going on down to his legs and feet, always keeping her fingers about an inch from his body.
Smiling at him, she signed, "I do not know where your spirit resides within your body, and so I will paint your entire body."
Strikes Fast nodded.
Looking around, she found an old skin they used as a rag, and taking hold of it, wiped her hands. Then, she picked up the red paint, so carefully stored in its shell, and she signed, "This symbolizes the wounds you will inflict upon these spirits if they come to you again with violence in their hearts."
She dipped her fingers in the paint and made red stripes about an inch in front of his face, his hair, the back of his head, on down to his chest and his back, and then to his legs and feet. Again, wiping her hands on the skin used as a rag, she set it down and picked up the blue paint.
After dabbing her fingers in the paint, she signed, "My husband, I will not paint you in white because you are no longer in mourning. Your vengeance, your duty to your family, as of now, is at an end. Instead, my husband, I will paint blue stripes all over your body to protect you against the evil spirits who wish to force you to do their bidding and who are determined to capture your soul and use it to their own ends."
Then she proceeded to paint him with stripes in the same manner as before, all over his face and head, his chest and back, then down farther to his legs and feet.
Sitting down onto her haunches, she signed, "For now, my darling husband, I will paint you every day before you set out on the hunt, and until these spirits depart from you. You must protect yourself against them until they decide to go after other prey. Guard yourself—your soul—and guard it well, my husband. I fear these spirits are hunters of easy prey, and they mean you no good. Indeed, there is evil in the world, and this I know because as Pastor James once told me, if all were good upon this earth, there would be no need for men to wage war against each other."
When Daasé Isée looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes, and he feared she might see her tears reflected in his own eyes, because his eyes were surely wet. He could think of no words to say.
It was not easy for him to admit it, but she was right. His grieving was at an end; it should have been over many years ago. Truly, he should have been free to live his life as it was meant to be a long time past.
Gazing at his wife curiously, he wondered how he had managed to obtain the gift of this woman's love. She had not only painted his soul, but in doing so she had become an even stronger part of him—his soul, or, as she said, the essence of who he was.
They had already touched one another spiritually during lovemaking. But, this ceremony she had gifted him was different. It was as though she were endowing him with a strength of determination beyond the body and of the spirit. There was power in this.
Because he was afraid to speak, fearing his voice would shake, he reached out for her and took her into his arms, hugging her, loving her as he had never loved anyone before. And, when she wasn't looking, he shed the tears in his eyes at last. He couldn't help himself.
