For personal use and select distribution only © by Judith A., October 2006
No Greater
Burden
By Judith A.
Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three
"Hey Ma," Brian greeted upon his return to the campsite. He had spent another day observing government programs designed to help the Indians adapt to white society.
"Brian," Michaela replied warmly. She was standing over a washtub scrubbing a blouse. Her sleeves were rolled up above her elbows and the front of her dress was splattered with water. Behind her, a clothesline displayed her afternoon's work. "It's been so hot. I thought we could all use some fresh clothes."
"Thanks Ma. I know I could." Brian found his mother's inability to relax amusing. She had spent most of her days treating patients and now she was washing their clothes. "Where's everyone?"
Michaela withdrew her hands from the soapy water, rinsed the blouse, and hung it on the clothesline. Then she wiped her hands across the front of her skirt. "Let's see…Sully's with Cloud Dancing, the children are at the reservation, and Dorothy wanted to explore the town. She was lonesome for civilization. It's just the two of us…for a little while anyway."
Brian was glad they were alone. If he didn't speak with her now, he wasn't sure when he would get another opportunity. Since making his decision, Brian felt better than he had in weeks. Gone was the irritability and confusion that had clouded his mind for so long. Ordinarily he would have shared his news with Sully first, but after their last argument, he felt awkward and uneasy around him.
Michaela reached for Sully's blue striped shirt and placed it into the washtub. "We're having supper with Running Wolf and his family this evening. I hope you'll join us."
Brian cast his eyes toward the ground. "I'd rather stay here. I want to write up my observations tonight while they're still fresh in my mind."
Michaela eyed him skeptically. "Brian, this wouldn't have anything to do with your recent quarrel with Sully would it?"
He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "He told you?"
"Not the details, but the tension between the two of you is obvious, at least to me." Michaela lifted her hands from the water, dried them on a dish towel, and walked toward her son. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "The two of you are far too important to one another to continue hurting each other they way you are. I'd like you to try to work things out with Sully."
At her words and her gentle touch, his eyes misted with water. Seeking a diversion to settle his emotions, he moved toward the washtub. He finished scrubbing the shirt, his eyes focused on his task. "We can't seem to talk to each other anymore without one of us getting angry," he said.
Michaela moved closer to him. "Have you considered why that's happening?" she asked in a neutral tone of voice, hoping to draw him out.
Brian shrugged his shoulders. "I said some terrible things…and after what I saw today…" he drifted off, not wanting to repeat their last argument with his mother.
It pained her to see her son and her husband at odds with each other. What made it worse was that she hadn't a clue how to repair the strain in their once close relationship. "We all say things we don't mean in the heat of an argument. What's important is not to let those words fester and do irreparable harm."
Brian rinsed the shirt and turned around to hang it on the clothesline. "Ma, there is something I want to talk to you about," he said with his back to Michaela.
"I'm listening," she said, wishing he would tell her what was bothering him, for it was clear he hadn't been himself for most of this trip and even before that.
Brian turned around, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "I've been thinking…well…I want to become a better writer."
Michaela didn't expect that and had to rewind the words, playing them again in her head to make sure she hadn't missed something. "They say the only way to improve is by writing."
"I believe there's more to it."
"Go on."
Brian stepped away from the washtub to stand in front of his mother. "It seems to me that to be really good, a writer has to have broad experience to draw from. He has to be exposed to different perspectives and people. All those experiences can come together in the writing."
"Yes, I suppose that would be beneficial," Michaela said, pausing to consider his words. "Brian, it sounds to me as if you're describing the accumulated experiences one acquires over a lifetime. I have no doubt that wisdom contributes to becoming a better writer. Accumulating and applying that knowledge is your life's work. I face a similar challenge as a doctor."
"I was thinking…" he stopped, reluctant to go on.
"What?" she urged, guiding them to sit down by the cold campfire.
After Michaela took a seat, Brian continued to stand, afraid he'd lose his courage if he sat down. "I'd like to…" He stopped again and took a deep breath. "When we get home, I'm gonna take some time to travel." His words were rushed and came out strewn together in a blur.
"Did you say you're going to travel?"
"Yeah." He avoided her eyes.
"I think that's wonderful. For how long?"
"At least a year."
Michaela shot up to her feet. "A year! Brian! Why? Where will you go? What will you do? How will you live? Are you going alone?" Her questions came tumbling out in a rush of motherly concern.
The comfort of her predictability gave Brian the strength to continue. "Ma, I'm a grown man. I'll answer all your questions, but you have to respect that this is my decision and that I've thought it through. I've spent the past few months thinking of little else. I know it's what I have to do."
Michaela nervously smoothed the front of her dress, surprised the wet spots had dried so quickly. "Sweetheart, are you certain about this? Have you considered the possibility that you're running away?"
That question caused Brian to laugh out loud. "Ma, I'm not running away. I've been confused because for a long time now I've known that this is something I needed to do, for me. At the same time, I couldn't imagine not being able to see you and Pa every day…and Sarah. You've always been there for me. Over the past few days the voices telling me to go have been getting louder. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."
Michaela placed her hand on his shoulder. "Oh Brian, Sully and I will always be there for you, no matter where you are. You know that don't you?"
Tears welled in his eyes again. "I know. Lately I've been thinking…I don't know…I don't mean to fight with Pa all the time. Cloud Dancing helped me to see that maybe I've been picking the fights. I didn't know why. Lots of different reasons, I guess." Brian paused while his mother remained silent allowing him to continue. "I used to think pretty much the same as Pa, but I'm not sure now. I need to figure things out on my own. It's been hard 'cause if I disagreed with him, Pa just rejected my point of view. After a while it became easier to reject his first."
"Brian, it's natural for you to consider other points of view. It's also natural for you to challenge your father. Colleen certainly challenged me as she was growing up. But, Sully doesn't reject you or your ideas. Why do you believe that?"
Brian shrugged, trying to form an adequate explanation. "He tells me I'm wrong about whatever I think."
Michaela found her son's perspective difficult to accept, but she knew he had told her it the way he had experienced it. Any response she gave was a delicate act of diplomacy. "Brian, it seems to me that both you and Sully could be doing a better job of listening to one another. I'm sure you have excellent ideas that are worthy of consideration. At the same time, Sully has a lifetime of experience you could learn from. That experience has caused him to become cynical at times, especially with regard to the Cheyenne." She paused to bring her hand up to his face. "Your father's cynicism should not squelch your optimism for the future, but at the same time, you shouldn't dismiss him as a relic. There is still a great deal you can learn from Sully."
Brian turned away. "I know. I haven't been listening real well to him either."
"Have you considered the possibility that by instigating arguments and convincing yourself that he's rejecting you that what you're actually doing is pushing him away?"
"Why would I be pushing him away?"
"Perhaps so it won't be so hard to leave him."
Brian remained quiet, absorbing his mother's words.
"Let me ask you a question. You're angry with Sully now. Don't you still miss him even though he's right here with you?"
"Yeah, I do."
Michaela moved closer to place her arm around his shoulder. "Brian, despite my worries, I will support your decision. However, I need a promise from you in return."
He turned to face her. "What kind of promise?"
"I want you to make things right with Sully. You need to fix your relationship before you leave, for both of your sakes."
Brian thought for a few moments. "I'll try, but it's not all up to me. Pa has to…."
Michaela cut him off. "Sully and I have had our share of disagreements over the years and I know better than most what a formidable adversary he can be. However, I also know he doesn't want to remain angry with the people he loves. If you go to him and tell him what you've told me, I'm certain he will listen. In this case, Brian I do believe the resolution is up to you. Will you promise me you'll talk with him and make things right?"
"I will."
"Even if you believe he's wrong?"
"Even then," he replied, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips.
She gave him a look of profound gratitude. "Have you thought about what you're going to tell Sarah?"
"Exactly what I told you. I need to do this. I know I might lose her. I also know if that happens that I'm not prepared for the hurt I'm gonna feel. But, I'm not ready to get married. There are things I need to do before I settle down. So, if she's ready for marriage before I am, I gotta accept that." He knew the words he had been rehearsing in his head by heart, but as they left his mouth, he felt his heart constrict. In truth, he hoped she would wait for him.
"When did you become so wise?"
"From watching you and Pa I guess," he said with a light laugh. "I don't want you to worry. I'll be fine and I'll write all the time. Promise."
Michaela drew him into a warm embrace. "Brian, I'm so proud of you. But, you need to know that as your mother, I'll always worry, no matter how old you are."
He broke away from her and took her hand guiding her back toward the washtub. "Then why don't we finish the wash while I answer those questions you were asking. It should put your mind at ease."
* * * * *
Each day after attending the reservation school, Eyes Like the Sky received an education of a different kind. Away from the watchful eyes of the Indian Agent, he, along with several other boys, met with elders from the tribe to receive instruction designed to pass the Cheyenne traditions down to the next generation. Monday they heard stories depicting the oral history of the people. Tuesday they learned how and when to perform important traditional ceremonies. On Wednesday they were taught religion. The last two days were spent practicing survival skills including tracking, hunting, identifying edible and medicinal plants, and playing games such as arrow mark and tomahawk throwing, the coyote and the wheel game. The groups were intentionally kept small so as not to arouse suspicion among the reservation workers intent on eradicating the Cheyenne culture. As hard as the reservation system worked to remove the Indian from the child, the elders worked even harder to preserve what made them Cheyenne.
All classes were taught in Cheyenne. The children weren't permitted to address each other or any of the elders in English during the classes. Most of the children who attended spoke Cheyenne with their parents despite being forced to speak only English at school. Similar classes were taught by the women for the girls of the tribe. In addition to the same Cheyenne religion and customs education the boys received, they were also taught traditional cooking, sewing and skin ornamentation. Given her skill, Night Crane was asked to teach them how to make decorative moccasins, clothing, and robes.
Not all children on the reservation attended these classes. Members of the tribe did not share the same vision about preserving the Cheyenne cultural heritage. Some eagerly adopted white ways, believing it was the path to a better future for their children. They learned English, refused to speak Cheyenne, changed their religion, and sent their children away to boarding schools in the east. Even some Cheyenne chiefs sent their children away to school. Those fighting to preserve their culture reluctantly accepted this schism among the people. They, too, followed a different set of rules in the presence of the Indian Agent in order to be free to practice their traditions far from his disapproving eyes.
Eyes Like the Sky had been well-schooled by his mother. He spoke Cheyenne fluently. The stories, religion, and customs were all second nature to him. Unlike many of the children on the reservation, he had lived free for a time. He tracked and hunted with Running Wolf and he had seen buffalo in the north. Some of the children, especially those born at Darlington had never seen a buffalo. This firsthand knowledge of such a revered animal to the tribe earned him praise from the elders, boosting his confidence and serving as an antidote to his shyness.
Some days Josef would join in the instruction as part of his punishment from lying about the day Wolf died. His father selected the lessons he wanted Josef to participate in and ensured that Eyes Like the Sky would be there to help him. At first, Josef had been frightened to spend time alone with Indians he didn't know, all of whom spoke another language, so his father stayed with him, translating and coaching. But, after two lessons, he found, apart from the language, it wasn't that different from listening to his father tell Cheyenne stories, going with him into the woods or accompanying his mother to collect herbs for her medicine. In fact, Josef knew more than the other boys about medicinal herbs and plants. By the third lesson, he told his father he didn't need him there anymore. He wanted to be like the other boys, though he still needed Eyes Like the Sky to translate for him. Josef found the Cheyenne language too difficult and had only managed to learn a few words in the time they had been at the reservation. He enjoyed these lessons, especially the stories and the games, and he enjoyed spending time with Eyes Like the Sky. After a while, he completely forgot they were part of his punishment.
On this day, after their lesson about the Sun Dance, the boys gathered together to play arrow mark. They had recently learned how to play this game and were eager to show off their skills in a friendly competition before they headed back to their lodges for supper. The game, which was similar to darts, was played by throwing arrows at a mark. As the oldest boy present, Little Eagle threw first, establishing the mark at which all subsequent throws were judged against. He aimed his arrow and threw it a distance of about ten yards until it lodged into the ground with its feathers sticking up. The next boy stepped forward, raising his arm to carefully aim his arrow. When he let it go, it landed at a diagonal across the mark. All the boys clapped in appreciation of the good throw.
Next to throw was Eyes Like the Sky. He stepped forward to a chorus of encouragement and gentle chiding from the other boys. He, too, aimed his arrow and let go. The minute he let the arrow go, he wished he could pull it back. His wrist veered to the right and he knew he would miss the mark. He watched as it floated in the air and landed point down in the dirt next to the mark, but not touching it.
"Good throw," Josef said, encouraging his friend. He wasn't sure how to tell a good throw from a bad throw in this game. To him, his friend had thrown better than the other boy, but the others didn't agree.
"No it's not," Flying Elk replied in Cheyenne. "You're too far away, but nice try." He patted Eyes Like the Sky on the back in a friendly gesture.
"My throw was too far to the right. I felt it as soon as I let go," Eyes Like the Sky explained to Josef in English. "The closest arrow to the mark wins."
It was Josef's turn. He was the youngest of the boys and he knew he couldn't throw as far as they had. His hands trembled as he slowly approached the spot he would throw from. Shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun with one hand so he could see the mark, he lifted his right arm, and released the arrow with a hard throw. His main concern was not embarrassing himself too badly in front of the other boys. The arrow sailed into the air a good distance before landing flat on the ground three feet from the mark. The other boys snickered at the pitiful throw.
Seeing Josef's crestfallen face, Eyes Like the Sky walked over to him. "That was good for your first time."
Little Eagle joined them. "He's right. You're still little. We're only joking around."
Josef felt a little better. Still, he decided he would ask his father for help when he returned to the campsite. He didn't want to be the worst one at this game.
Flying Elk was next to throw. Effortlessly he threw his arrow so close to the mark it was hard to tell the feathers apart. The boys clapped and cheered, admiring the throw and declaring him the winner. "Let's play again," Flying Elk said. "I'll set the mark." He retrieved the arrows then threw his arrow to establish the mark for the second competition. This time Eyes Like the Sky won. Josef's throw improved, but he came in last again. The boys played this game over and over again until the slow graying of the sky told them it was time to return to their lodges.
* * * * *
"Tom, we got to keep mum. You know that," Live in Hopes read from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The book, one of the most popular of the day, belonged to Josef. "That Injun devil wouldn't make any more of drow…drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now look a here, Tom, less take and swear to one another – that's what we got to do – swear to keep mum. I'm agreed, Huck. It's the best thing," he paused wishing it all made sense. He longed to know what all the words on the page meant. He could almost imagine the pride he would feel in knowing them and their meaning. It seemed all he could do was sound out the word without understanding how it connected to the other words around it.
"That's good! You've gotten so much better," Katie exclaimed. This being his third lesson, she was surprised by how quickly Live in Hopes learned new words. They had been sitting under a cottonwood tree in full bloom with yellow flowers away from the center of activity so as not to be seen by any of his family. Katie had donned her yellow dress for their lesson because Live in Hopes told her yellow was his favorite color. Having sworn never to wear it, she silently thanked her mother for packing it. Giving in to some unknown impulse, she decided to wear her hair loose enjoying how it bounced when she walked.
Live in Hopes also took a little longer than usual to dress. After rejecting a blue cotton shirt and a brown sleeveless deerskin top, he chose a beige deerskin one decorated with small turquoise stones across the shoulders. It was one of his favorites. At the end of the passage, he closed the book and handed it to Katie. "It is easier to follow the story when you read it," he said. "When I focus on sounding out the words I forget the story. Tell me what happens? Does Tom tell that it was Injun Joe that killed the doctor?"
Katie was on to his ploy. "Oh no, you won't get off that easy. We'll read it together. Besides, I wouldn't want to ruin it for you," she said, amusement in her eyes.
"Get off easy?"
Katie flashed him a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It's an expression. It means you can't avoid reading the story. It's a good story."
"Our stories are not written down," Live in Hopes told her as he leaned back against the cottonwood tree, his arms crossed behind his head.
Katie crossed her legs in front of her, smoothed her dress, and sat up straighter. "None of them?"
"None. They are told over and over again from generation to generation. My father told me that our stories need to be told or they die, and when they die, we will not be able to remember who we are or why we are here."
"Papa's been telling us Cheyenne stories for as long as I can remember. There aren't any Cheyenne in Colorado anymore. It was Pa's way of keeping them with him. Being here has helped me understand why our coming was so important to him."
"Which ones do you know?"
Katie lifted her head to the sky for a moment to pull their names from her memory. "Sweet medicine, the one about how the buffalo first came, uh…the seven stars, running ghost…and let's see…oh…on the way here he told us about the helper wolf," she finished, proud she had remembered so many.
Live in Hopes giggled. "That's wolf helper," he corrected, but he was impressed by her list. "You know many of our stories."
"As a little girl, I thought all children were told these stories. When I got to school, I was confused about why the other kids didn't know any of them. I think that's when I first began to figure out that my parents were different from other folks."
"Did that bother you?"
Katie drew her knees up and hugged them to her chin. She thought hard before responding. "Not really. I always felt special that my Ma was the town doctor. The Ma's of the other kids didn't save lives. But, I used to get mad at her when she couldn't spend time with me like the other Ma's did. Pa was away a lot for work, but when he was home, he did more with us than any of the other Pa's. It was when I got to school that I figured out they had different ideas from most folks. The other kids teased us because of how he dressed. It was confusing sometimes, but my Ma and Pa were real good about answering our questions and explaining everything to us. I wouldn't want any other folks."
"It probably makes you different from other girls your age," he said, knowing that to be true even though he had never met any other white girls before.
Katie chuckled as she thought about prissy Miss Margaret and Virginia, the most popular girl in school. "I'm not anything like the other girls at school," she revealed tilting her head backward. She became quiet for a few moments. "Have you ever thought about writing your stories down? That way they will never be forgotten and others can read them."
Live in Hopes shook his head. "We believe a story must be told to be understood. The truth of the voice is as important as the truth of the words."
Katie stretched her legs out in front of her. "I could help you write some of them in English. It's important that they don't get lost if there aren't people to tell them."
"You'll tell them won't you? After we're gone."
It was a long moment before she answered. "I'll tell them and so will you," she said with a sweet smile.
Live in Hopes's face took on a playful expression. "Now it's time for your Cheyenne lesson."
Katie buried her head in her hands. "That's so much harder."
"Not to me," Live in Hopes said before releasing a hearty laugh. "Come on, repeat after me, Nehaeanahe."
Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four
For the past two nights, the Cheyenne had been performing the Massaum ceremony on the far edge of the reservation. In ancient times, this ceremony was performed over four nights and five days to bring food to the camps in times of starvation. Since the Dog Soldiers had been gone for two weeks hunting for food, the chief called for the ceremony to coincide with the day he expected would mark their successful return.
Although the Cheyenne at Darlington were indeed starving, they also performed this ceremony for another important reason. The elders performed it to teach the ancient ways to the youth of the tribe, hoping they would pass it down to their children someday. In the time of their grandfathers, the rituals were conducted by priests and important elders of the tribe. This time these roles were given to the boys approaching manhood as a way of instilling pride in being Cheyenne.
The Cheyenne took a great risk in performing such a long and important ceremony on reservation grounds. Government rules prohibited them from practicing their religion or performing their ceremonies in an attempt to hasten their assimilation into white society. What the government hadn't counted on was the length men would go, to preserve who they are. Fully aware of the danger, should they be caught, the elders gathered a green cottonwood trunk for the center pole of the Massaum lodge. The construction of the lodge signified the start of the ceremony. In ancient times the entire tribe would be gathered for the duration of the festivities. Since this rite was forbidden here, members of the tribe took turns coming out to the site to participate in the rituals. It was safer for all of them if their absence didn't cause suspicion with the Indian Agent.
At daybreak on the second day, Sully brought Josef to the ceremony. He was especially pleased that Brian had agreed to accompany them, too, even if it was only to observe the rituals. Dorothy joined them as well, partly out of journalistic interest, but also to silently observe Cloud Dancing with the intent of discerning the nature of his relationship with the young woman. Running Wolf and his family were there also. Sully and Michaela thought it best if she remained at the reservation tending to the sick so as not to arouse the suspicion of Agent Miles. She planned to visit Little Sparrow who was improving under her tender care and with her medicine of nutritious food. Katie took the opportunity to secretly meet Live in Hopes again to help him with his English.
The second day of the Massaum ceremony was among the most important. It was the day they raised the lodge and placed sacred objects inside. During his time at Darlington, Running Wolf had earned the trust of Cloud Dancing and many of the tribal elders. He knew some of this trust derived from his wife's status as Black Kettle's niece. Black Kettle still retained his high status among the elder Cheyenne, most of them descendents of his band. But, Running Wolf also believed he deserved some of the credit for the way he conducted himself since arriving at the reservation. The time had come for what he hoped to be his moment of complete acceptance. Running Wolf stepped forward, urged on by the encouraging eyes of his wife and son, and mirrored by Sully and Cloud Dancing.
"Chief Strong Bow," Running Wolf began in Cheyenne, his anxiety rising as he saw all eyes were upon him. To calm his breathing, he sought the comforting eyes of his wife, warmed by the love he saw shining from them. "I would like to present a sacred article for the lodge." He finished by handing the chief the shield protected by a deerskin cover.
The chief carefully began to unveil the article. When the object was revealed to him, he sharply drew in his breath and his hands started trembling. "How do you come to possess such an artifact," the chief asked in Cheyenne, holding the shield up for all to see. There was an audible gasp among those who witnessed the presentation.
"I found it at a battle site when I was out hunting. I knew it was valuable so I guarded it until I could return it," Running Wolf explained in Cheyenne. "I didn't know exactly where it belonged until I met Night Crane." He shifted his gaze in the direction of his wife and smiled. She returned his smile, her eyes shining with pride.
The chief laid the shield on the ground and placed Running Wolf's large hands in his weathered, frail ones. "We have so few items left. This discovery is very important to us. Words fail to fully express our gratitude."
Running Wolf was moved by the chief's emotion. For the first time in quite a while he knew he had done something worthwhile. Perhaps this was the start of a new life. "The honor is mine. Please know that I could not be more pleased that it is back where it belongs."
"Now that the shield has returned, it will protect us from what is yet to come," Chief Strong Bow said. "Please place it in the lodge. You have earned that honor."
Eyes Like the Sky felt a surge of pride for his father. His mother explained the significance of the privilege the chief had bestowed. It made him feel important to have such a respected father. So far, the boy liked living here. From some of the adults, even his parents at times, he sensed anger and resentment, but to Eyes Like the Sky, this was the most welcoming place he had ever lived. It had its hardships, but he found he didn't mind going to school, and for the first time in his life, he had friends. Unlike Indian children he knew in the north, the children here didn't seem to mind that he was half white. He guessed it was probably because there were other children just like him, children whose fathers were white soldiers. His parents also seemed respected. They were not treated as outcasts as they had been in some of the other places they had lived.
"Thank you," Running Wolf replied, his voice catching with emotion. He knelt down and lifted the shield from the ground, holding it as delicately as a newborn baby. With a backward glance toward his family, he entered the lodge.
Brian watched the scene before him, humbled and moved. He realized that Sully had been right about the hope that could be found in these traditional ceremonies. When he observed the demeanor of the people around the reservation, they appeared lost and listless. But here, those same people were alive with energy and enthusiasm. It was as if, in these sacred rituals that had been passed down for generations, they knew who they were and that security emboldened them. Brian wondered if, in time, they would adapt to white society while continuing to maintain the uniqueness that made them Cheyenne. He continued to believe such a melding of cultures offered the greatest hope for their survival.
Josef sat in his father's lap leaning against his chest, confused by what he had seen. His father had translated all the words for him and tried to explain the ceremony, but he didn't understand what was so important about a shield. After Running Wolf left the lodge, Josef was again puzzled when two boys placed four mounds of dirt outside the entrance. He watched as they sprinkled two mounds with black paint and two with red paint. He listened as his father told him that the mounds represented the four hills upon which the earth rested and in which dwelled the spirits who watched and held up the earth. Josef didn't have the heart to tell his father he had no idea what any of that meant.
An even bigger mystery was how building this lodge and painting piles of dirt was going to bring food for everyone. About the only thing the little boy understood was that Eyes Like the Sky's father was respected. That meant his friend would be all right when he and Katie left to go home. Thinking about how much he liked Eyes Like the Sky and how much he would miss him and the other boys when they returned home, he finally figured out why his father had gotten so angry with him when he and Luke had played cowboys and Indians. At this sacred ceremony, in the presence of the tribe, Josef silently vowed never to play that game again.
Sully held Josef in his lap, his arms encircling his waist. He felt profound joy at being able to share a Cheyenne tradition with his son. Even though Sully knew his son didn't understand much of what he saw, he felt the significance of the ceremony would have a lasting impact on his son, as it once had on him. He was also pleased this trip seemed to have accomplished what he hoped it would for his children, for them to see the Indians as people, like any other people.
After the boys had sprinkled the paint on the mounds of dirt, they dug a shallow trench. Then another young man carried out a skull and placed it into the trench. Josef gasped when he recognized the boy with the skull as Brave Bear, the one who nearly scalped Katie. Though Josef was more comfortable around most of the Cheyenne children by now, he was still intimidated by Brave Bear. The older boy always seemed angry and mean.
Sully tightened his hold on his son. "It's all right," he whispered. "It's a buffalo skull," he said, misinterpreting Josef's fear. "They bury the skull to symbolize the buffalo's first appearance on earth." Sully went on to explain the buffalo's significance to the Cheyenne.
* * * * *
Brian couldn't sleep. Between the hot air that stubbornly refused to cool and his mounting anxiety about how to approach his father, all he could do was toss from one side of his bedroll to the other, his body coated in sweat. In the distance he heard the faint notes of a songbird welcoming the dawn. He took the sound as his cue to get up. Though the sky was still dark, he rose to his feet, abandoning any last thoughts of sleep. As he walked from the campground toward the river, he wished it would rain. He hadn't wished for rain this hard since the Thanksgiving after they returned from Boston that first time. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sully seated on the other side of the campground with his legs crossed and his eyes closed, alone in his thoughts. Knowing how Sully valued his solitude for pensive reflection, Brian wasn't sure how he'd react to being disturbed. At the same time, with everyone asleep, this seemed to be a good time for them to talk.
"Pa," Brian whispered, tentatively moving closer to him.
Sully opened his eyes, surprised to see his son standing in front of him. "Brian, what ya doin' up so early?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Same here."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. "I enjoyed the ceremony yesterday," Brian said, realizing how trite that statement sounded, but unable to think of anything else to say. The tension that hung in the air was almost as oppressive as the heat, and Brian knew he had only himself to blame.
"It was nice," Sully replied, unable to endure another argument. His sleep had been disturbed by thoughts of the situation in which he found the Cheyenne. Before coming here, he thought he had prepared himself for the conditions on the reservation, but looking back, he realized that thinking about what it was like from the comforts of his home in Colorado Springs and actually seeing it here at Darlington were very different realities. Michaela had been a lifesaver to them, literally. She worked tirelessly with Cloud Dancing tending to the sick. Sully wanted to do his part. He had been up most of the night trying to think of other ways he could be of use to the Cheyenne before they returned home. Nothing of significance had come to mind. The Cheyenne were doing all they could to survive under difficult circumstances and Sully was at a loss to come up with an idea they hadn't tried. Now with Brian standing before him, he knew he lacked the strength to endure another assault on his choices and beliefs.
Sully's terse reply stung. Feeling unwelcome, he considered turning and walking away. Instead, as their silent gulf expanded, Brian continued to stand. Silently acknowledging that he had brought them to this point, he knew he needed to stay and repair the damage. "So what happens between the second and the last day?"
Sully wasn't convinced Brian was actually interested in the ceremony, but it was clear he was genuinely trying to talk with him. "They perform rituals. They smoke the pipe, paint the buffalo skull and create a yellow wolf effigy. They try to do each step exactly as it's been done for generations. The Massaum ends with a great celebration of dancing and hopefully the deliverance of a feast. Some people call it the crazy dance."
Brian rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. "Do you believe there'll be food?"
Sully turned his head to watch an arch of arrow-straight rays shoot from the unseen sun barely peeking up out from the horizon. To the west, deep yellow and gold clouds glimmered in the reflected light. "I hope so. Cloud Dancing says there's a good chance the Dog Soldiers will be back by then."
"It's remarkable they can celebrate like that living here."
Sully turned back to his son. "Don't ya see, Brian, their traditions…religion…it's all they have left."
"I'm starting to understand that," Brian replied, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. He took several deep breaths to settle his churning stomach. "Pa…can we talk?"
Studying Brian's expression for a moment, Sully rose to his feet then brushed the dirt off his buckskins. "Sure. Let's walk a ways. No reason for anyone else ta be up yet." They walked side by side in the direction of the river, neither one saying a word. Ahead of them the sky was brightening and glowing, as if to offer a promise for a new beginning. Sully sensed Brian had something on his mind and he hoped it might explain the tension between them these past few months. Even though the deafening silence widened the gap between them, he decided to wait for Brian to begin.
Brian's heart was beating rapidly and he knew it was now or never. "For a while now I've been thinking about what I want to do next. I've been restless at the Gazette. It was time to move on. At the same time I was confused about the right thing to do."
"Growin' up's confusin' at times. Ya wanna tell me what's got ya mixed up?"
Brian shook his head. Noticing Sully's disappointment he went on. "I was real confused, but things are clearer now. I've made a decision." He paused to garner the courage to utter his next words. "As I was figuring it all out I kinda…well…I took my frustrations out on you. What I wanna say Pa is I'm sorry. I'm real sorry for how I've been acting lately."
"It's been tryin'," Sully replied in a low voice. He feared saying any more might unravel their fragile truce.
"I didn't wanna fight all the time. Honest. I see now that I was pushing you away."
"Why?"
Brian paused in his steps and sat down on the edge of the river. "I've been trying to make sense of it. The best I can figure out is that I needed to find ways to be different from you. My whole life I looked up to you, tried to be just like you. I wasn't sure who I was. I needed to figure that out. I suppose doing that meant tryin' out ideas that were the exact opposite of yours."
Sully sat down beside his son, realizing that Running Wolf had been right. Brian had been trying on different robes. He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Brian, you are your own person. Ya always have been. Sure, we think alike 'bout some things, but we're different, too. You wanted the train to come to Colorado Springs when I didn't. You've seen and done things I never did like goin' ta college and livin' in Boston. You're growin' up in a different time. It makes sense that you'd see things different from me. Your ma and me, we don't agree 'bout everythin', but we make it work. No reason the same can't be true for us." He paused to study Brian's expression returning his hands to his lap. Now it was his turn to reveal the truth of his feelings. "It's been hard arguin' with ya. I began ta think all my mistakes had driven us apart. That you lost respect for me."
Brian trembled in guilt. All this time he thought his father didn't respect him. The irony was obvious. In his fear, Brian had made his father feel the very thing he was most afraid of - rejection. "Pa, I haven't always understood the choices you made and there are things we disagree about, but I never once stopped respecting you. Never. I'm sorry it felt that way. I thought you didn't respect me."
"Brian, we may disagree 'bout some things, but I'll always respect ya. I love ya."
"I love you, too. Pa, there's no one I respect more than you. One things for sure, I'll never know a better man."
Sully was moved by his words. "I've made my share o' mistakes."
"Most of them were for the right reasons."
"At the time, I thought so."
"You always told me that a man can only do what he feels is right at the time. Sometimes things don't work out as planned. I expect I'll make my share of mistakes." Brian hesitated. There was something else he needed to admit to his father. "You were right about the programs on the reservation."
"How's that?"
"Agent Miles showed me the school, the farm, and the other skills being taught. The school is less about teaching them what they need to know than about stripping them of what it means to be Indian. And, you're right that they're being set up to fail as farmers. Agent Miles' idea for them to raise cattle is a good one, but he hasn't gotten the government's support yet. I still think it's good to give the Indians options for the future, but they're goin' about it all wrong. I agree with you that it can't happen now, but maybe someday the government will give them more of a voice in running the reservations."
It felt good to be talking with his son again in an easy, familiar way. Neither one of them had to guard their words, afraid to set the other off. "Brian, we're not as far apart as you might think," he said, a faint smile on his lips. "I'm not against 'em learin' English or subjects. I know they can't stay hunters and warriors forever. They have to change like we all do. I'm not against a Cheyenne becomin' a teacher or goin' ta medical school someday if that's what he wants. What I'm tryin' ta fight against is strippin' 'em of who they are ta do it. It ain't bad ta be Indian. We don't want 'em ta think it is."
"I know it's not bad to be Indian."
Sully lovingly patted Brian on the back. "See, we agree more than we don't. Though I don't see how right now, maybe the reservations can change for the better." The two sat for a few moments in companionable silence, happy to have put the tension of the past few months behind them. "Ya wanna tell me 'bout this decision of yours?"
Brian turned slightly to face his father. "I decided that when we get home, I'm gonna travel for a while."
"A while?"
"At least a year."
"Go on," Sully said, apprehension in his voice.
Brian was fully facing him now. "If I'm going to use my writing the way I want, to influence the way people think about things, I need to see more and know more. I need to see how things really are and try to make sense of them," he explained, his voice reflecting his commitment and excitement. "Lately I've been thinking about life as one huge jigsaw puzzle. Each time I think I've got a part done, I find a few more pieces that change the picture. Before I got here, I thought we just hadn't found a way to make the reservations work right. Being here makes it clear no one wants them to work right. You tried to do it at Palmer Creek, but everyone was against you. Taking away a man's freedom can never be made right. I see that now. I still hope it can change someday. But, this trip has shown me that I can't learn what I need to know sitting in Colorado Springs."
Sully felt a surge of pride in his son. "For what it's worth, I think you're makin' the right decision. That don't mean it's gonna be easy ta say goodbye, cause it won't."
"That's what's been so hard," Brian admitted, huge relief washing over him at Sully's acceptance. "I've known for a long time that I needed to do this, but I couldn't imagine not seeing you and Ma or the kids every day. I didn't wanna leave Sarah, still don't. I don't want to leave any of you, but I can't stay. This is something I need to do. I got mixed up and started thinking it would be easier to leave you if I was mad at you."
Sully chuckled. "I'm not gonna miss you half as much when you're gone as I did these past few weeks."
"I missed you, too." The tension and doubt Brian had carried around these past few weeks melted away in their easy, father and son dialogue. "Remember what I said when the train came?"
Sully shook his head.
"I said I wanted to go off to see different places, but the good thing about the train is that it doesn't just go places, it comes back, too. No matter where I go, I'll always come home, Pa."
"I know ya will, at least for visits." Sully felt a lump in his throat at the thought of saying goodbye to him. "Your Ma's not gonna take this news well."
Brian lowered his head to the ground. "I already told her."
A look of surprise spread across Sully's face. "Ya did?"
"She's been easier ta talk to lately," he admitted sheepishly.
"How'd she take it?" Sully was even more surprised that Michaela had managed to keep this from him.
"She was worried at first, but after she heard me out and understood my reasons, she's behind me. She had one condition."
"What's that?"
"That I make things right with you before I go."
Sully brought Brian into an embrace. "Your ma's a smart lady." Brian hugged his father tight, as tight as he ever remembered holding him since he had grown taller than him. "Brian, ya don't wanna finish that puzzle. The journey's in findin' the new pieces."
* * * * *
It was the fifth and last day of the ceremony. Sully had been doing chores around the campsite all morning to burn off his restless energy. In a little while he would bring his family to watch the end of the Massaum ceremony with him. He couldn't wait. For as long as he could remember, he wanted them to share in the Cheyenne customs he held dear.
"Ya ready?" Sully asked Michaela. He stood beside her as she placed some food and medical supplies into her saddle bag.
Michaela looked up at him with an absent, worried expression. "Yes, but I don't know where Katie is."
Sully's heart sank at the expression on her face. At the same time, he thought he heard her say yes. Momentarily confused, he finally registered the full meaning of her words. "What do ya mean? She was right here a few hours ago." His eyes scanned the area of their campground for their daughter.
"She told me she needed to do something and she'd be back in time, but Sully that was over an hour ago."
Sully placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do ya know what she had ta do?"
"No, but lately she's been going off on her own." Michaela stopped and thought about how pleased she was that Katie seemed to be enjoying herself so much on their trip. Knowing her daughter had found activities to engage her made Michaela feel less guilty about spending so much of her time tending to the sick on the reservation. Josef, too, seemed to enjoy playing with Cheyenne children or going off with his father.
Sully also thought about his daughter's behavior lately. He had been disappointed that Katie hadn't wanted to accompany them to visit with Cloud Dancing or to attend the second day of the Massaum ceremony, but he didn't push her. Now he wondered how she had been spending her time. Sully reached for Michaela's hand and together they walked toward Josef.
"Joe, do ya know where your sister went?" Sully asked when he and Michaela reached their son. Josef was drawing in the dirt with a stick outside the tent he shared with his sister.
Josef looked up at his parents. "She's probably with that boy," he said, a hint of resentment in his tone.
"What boy?" Michaela asked, glancing at her husband in confusion. "Do you mean Eyes Like the Sky?"
"No. Eyes Like the Sky is at the Indian ceremony with his folks," Josef replied as he turned back to drawing in the dirt. "Aren't we goin', too," he said hopefully.
Sully crouched down to face his son. "We're all supposed ta go to the last day o' the ceremony, but we gotta wait for Katie. Do you know where she is?"
Josef was annoyed with his sister. He wanted her to play with him, but she left him to go be with a boy. It was fun playing with Eyes Like the Sky and the other boys, but he also wanted to spend time with Katie. First, he had asked her to come watch him play the kicking game. After he scored a point, he searched her out, expecting to see her smiling and waving, but instead he felt a stab of pain when he saw she had her back to him. Then yesterday, he wanted them to go fishing by the river, but she said she had something to do. He knew she was going with that boy. "I don't know where she is," he finally told his parents digging his stick into the dirt with force.
"She told me she had something to do. Do you know what it was?" Michaela asked, surprised by her son's apparent anger toward his sister.
"I told ya, she's probably with that boy," Josef said.
"What boy?" Michaela asked again?
"One of the boys who…" Josef caught himself. He had made a promise not to tell.
"Who did what Joe?" Sully was concerned he was hiding something again. "Ya gotta tell us what ya know."
Just then Michaela noticed Katie walking toward them, an Indian boy at her side. Unlike most of the other boys she had seen on the reservation, this one was dressed from head to toe in traditional buckskin clothing. Michaela reasoned that he dressed this way today for the ceremony. As she watched the two come closer, she thought she saw something familiar in his eyes. She brushed off the thought, returning her mind to her daughter's secretive behavior of late.
Sully rose to his feet and approached his daughter. "Katie, where ya been? We're gonna be late.
"I brought someone to meet you," she said choosing her words carefully since her parents had already met him.
Both Sully and Michaela stepped closer to their daughter and her friend. Josef joined them, too, not wanting to miss anything. Sully thought he recognized the boy from his trip up north almost two years ago, but he wasn't certain.
"Mama and Papa, this is Live in Hopes."
Michaela stood in silent shock. Sully hardly recognized him. He had grown a foot taller and filled out since he had last seen him. Standing before him now, it seemed hardly possible that this boy had once been the tiny baby he cradled in his arms on that horrible day more than eleven years ago. Michaela, too, thought back to that time. Her thoughts drifted to the day she handed the baby to Cloud Dancing and told him the name she and Sully had chosen for him. Could he truly be standing right in front of me?
Even Josef was surprised by this revelation. He stared at the boy remembering all he had been told about him. In his mind Live in Hopes was a baby. How did he get to be taller and older than me? His sister's actions over the past few days were starting to make sense. Still, he wished she had brought him along.
"I wanted to thank you for saving my life," Live in Hopes said to Sully. He glanced at Katie to be sure he said it right. Her beaming smile told him he had.
Sully clasped his arm. "You had a lotta folks lookin' out for ya," he said, his voice catching with emotion.
Michaela felt overwhelmed. Placing her hand on Sully's back, she spoke to the boy. "We are so overjoyed to see you again." It was one of the rare occasions where words failed her.
Sully and Michaela stood just staring at him for several long moments, each of them reliving the memories of his early life. Then Live in Hopes reached out to hug the two people he had heard about all his life. There weren't any words to convey what they meant to each other so the three of them lingered in an embrace for several moments.
Sully was the first to pull back wiping an unshed tear from his eye. "We'd like ta talk with ya, but we're already late for the end of the Massaum.
"I am to meet my family there. I go with you," Live in Hopes said. "We will talk later."
All five of them arrived at the ceremony after the dancing had begun. Live in Hopes left to join his family, but not before promising to visit their campsite again soon. Dorothy and Brian had arrived earlier as they both wanted to speak with several of the Cheyenne for articles they were writing. Running Wolf and his family were already seated by the side of the lodge engrossed in the festivities. Michaela, Sully and Katie joined them on the ground.
Josef lingered behind. He was mesmerized by the two Indians dressed in wolf skin, dancing, one yellow and the other gray. The gray fur on the dancing man resembled Wolf's coat. Looking at the gray and white fur caused him to ache inside from the knowledge that Wolf would never be with them again. Not a day passed that he didn't think of Wolf, of what had happened to him, and wished he were here. Every day he wondered whether Wolf was still mad at him for getting him killed. Noticing Josef straggling behind, transfixed by the man in the gray wolf skin, Sully rose and walked toward his son. Knowing what was on his mind, he lifted him into his arms, whispered words of sympathy into his ear, and carried him to the rest of his family. Sully settled Josef on his lap to watch the dance, his wife and daughter on either side of him.
Dorothy tried to keep her eyes focused on the dance, but they kept drifting to steal glances at Cloud Dancing. He was standing with the chief and several other important members of the tribe engrossed in the display before them. She also tried to spot the woman she had seen him with five days ago now, but she didn't appear to be here. Gradually she allowed her eyes to drift once more in Cloud Dancing's direction. This time he was looking at her and for a moment their eyes locked. All at once Dorothy felt a torrent of memories rise to the surface. Startled by the sudden intensity of the images, she looked away, aware of what she needed to do.
The wolves were joined in the dance by men representing foxes, elk, and white tailed deer. Others joined in the dance acting like clowns, causing Josef to giggle. Sully circled his arms around his son, resting his head lightly against Josef's as he watched men dressed as buffalo join the dance. Soon the animals were joined by hunters. A large piece of deer meat hung from the lodge pole. It had been placed there by the Dog Soldiers upon their return. On the fourth leap into the air, a fox dancer grabbed the meat from the pole, signifying success on the hunt. Traditionally, all the dancers would have led a procession to the river to end the Massaum ceremony. Since that was too dangerous, it was substituted with a procession of dancers circling the lodge. The Cheyenne danced late into the night as the tribe and their guests feasted on deer meat.
Running Wolf squinted into the flecks of light from one of the campfires, watching the shadows dance and flicker, feeling more content than he had been in a very long time. He wasn't aware that, across the flames, his every move was being watched by the Indian dressed as a yellow wolf.