Sean Robin Hughes

When I was done running, I have no idea how long, I threw up.  I had little to toss, but my body was adrift in teenage emotions and hormones.  The shit ton of adrenaline finally ran out and the result was me, bent over, surrounded by scrub brush and tumbleweeds, dumping the contents of my GI tract all over the dusty ground.  Running for 10 minutes or for an hour, the result would have been the same, even for someone that was a runner.  Adrenaline has its consequences.

I checked my shoes, they were clean.  Soaked still.  But no puke. You gotta count the small victories.

My clothes were drying, the cash I had was hardly anything.  10 bucks and change.  I could see a state highway not too far off.   A couple lonely cars broke the monotony of the long black scar, the rolling hills obscuring the sounds of tires in intermittent pauses and barks.

My chances of hitchhiking were probably slim.  Even if I got on with someone, where to go?  West?  East?

Why the hell did I run?  Why didn’t I pay attention to what Ses and Jack where doing?  What the ever living hell was up with Benny?  This is going from bad to absolutely the worst.   I almost started crying again, wallowing in the misery like a pig in mud, but something caught my eye.

A little gray shape was crossing the goddamn highway.  A rabbit?  It must have been a pretty stupid rabbit, because it was about to get pancaked.  Cars screamed by, and not one slowed down, but the shape kept plodding along, jumping the small edge off the shoulder on my side with a little pounce. It stopped, sat down and looked at me.

It was a fox?  A gray and brown fox?  It was small, so I had a hard time making it out, and the heat coming off the ground and asphalt was not helping a thing.  I stood up straight and started walking slowly towards it.  As I got closer, and it finished licking at a paw, it stood up and started trotting towards me between the brown dried up vegetation cooked alive in the summer sun.  It weaved in and out between the stunted growth and small clumps of grass like a spectre.

It wasn’t a fox.  It was a coyote.  A pup?  I got closer and saw it wasn’t thin and long like a coyote.  More compact with a heavier frame and wider snout.  It almost looked like a wolf.  Holy shit. It was a wolf.   The brown on it wasn’t its coloring, it was dirt.  The pup was shades of gray, starting out dark at its rounded ears, down its back lightening along the way, to a much lighter gray at its tail and paws.  It trotted right up to me and sat down.

Then it tipped its head back and howled.  The tiniest howl I could imagine.  Like a terrier trying to imitate a big dog and getting it right in spirit, but not much else.

“Hello little guy… Are you lost?  But I found you… just like Benny…” I trailed off.  “Weird.”

It sat there and panted.  I bent over and let it sniff my hand.  It playfully nipped at my thumb.

“I honestly have no idea what the hell to do now.”

The little wolf tipped its head back and started to howl again. A soft keening noise, not all that unpleasant to tell the truth.  Coming from such a little pup, it was downright adorable.  I smiled involuntarily.  It jumped up at my knee, bounced off in a playful way and turned towards the west.  It plodded off for a few feet, stopped and looked back at me.

“What?”

It barked.  More like a yip.  It looked west knowingly and then looked back at me with a huff.

“There is nothing that way but scrub!  I am not quite sure where I am to be honest.  Not on the rez, that is for sure.” I trailed off to a mutter. “Well shit.  Guess we are going west.”

I started to follow the pup, it trotted between the bushes and low laying plain grass, and it looked back at me every couple yards to make sure I was following.

“I am so screwed.”  I am.  Completely and utterly screwed.  I left Jack, barely able to move… with Benny who was confused as hell, with Hanks who was now the verified retard of the group, and poor, poor Ses.  I felt the raw edge of tears ready to be ripped open, but I pushed it back.  I tried to focus on the little pup, still weaving its way ahead of me. I didn’t have food, water, clothing, and hardly any money.  I could probably survive a couple nights out here as long as the nights didn’t get to cold.  But what was the long term plan?  I would have to go back and face the music at some point.  Life had to go on.  I ran.  That made me look guilty.  Hanks story, and my actions… made Benny’s water talk a self fulfilling prophecy.

FUCK.  I should have stayed. I could have explained it to the deputy, I could have proven the undertow.  Jack would have backed me up.  Hanks could go find a ragged tree stump and perform some deep knee bends.

“I am soooooo screwed.” I said again.  “Fugitive Jonny Smith.”

The wolf barked again and it pulled me out of my reverie.  It was facing the highway, and a semitruck was pulled over with a blown tire.

“You want me to go over to the truck?”

Bark!

“Fine. I am already having a psychotic breakdown, why not introduce myself to some nasty trucker who will try to rape me?  Sounds great.  You are just full of great ideas.”

I walked towards the truck, and the wolf pup fell behind me, walking in my shadow like a trained animal.  I kept looking over behind me, but he kept his head down.  It, it kept its head down.  I actually had no idea if it was a boy or a girl. I am not the kind of guy to pick up a wild animal, flip it over and check to see if it pees out of a hose.

I saw a shadow underneath the truck, tugging on the spare well. A heavy grunt and a muttered dammit followed.

“Howdy?” I called out cautiously.

“Howdy?” A lady’s voice came from underneath. Then a head popped out from behind the well.  “Howdy?  Who says howdy anymore?”

“I do. Do you need help?” I said with a smile.  I probably looked like shit, the smile was just a bad polishing job on the turd at this point.

“Actually, I could use some help.  Come under here, you push up and out, I will pull from this side.”  An older lady hobbled out from under the bed, and wiped her hands on her jeans.  She was heavy set, with thick short graying curls sticking out from under a Colorado Rockies ballcap, and line of grease on her chin.  She was probably the same age as my mom, but with some adults, it was hard to tell.  Her smile seemed safe enough though.  Plus, she wasn’t a greasy dude looking to have his junk sucked. So another win. Go me.

“Alrighty.”  I put my hand up to the pup.  “Stay!”

Amazingly it said down and started panting with the dopiest looking grin a wolf could pull off. It looked as sharp as a bag of wet mice.

The truck driver grinned. “Smart dog.”

“Maybe.  Hard to tell when they are pups.”  I lied sweetly.  The pup just cocked its head.  It was totally an act.  I crawled under the bed and tried to get some leverage under the tire cage.

“On three? Ready, one, two, three.” The trucker called out.  I heaved and the tire levered out nicely.  She leaned against it, and let it slide towards the ground gently. “Good job… ?”

“Jonny.  The name is Jonny.”

“Good job, Jonny. If you don’t mind helping, I could use some more.” She smiled at me. “Name is Francine. You can call me Frankie.”

“Sure… Frankie.  What do you need me to do?”

“Hold this up while I pull this one off.  As it rolls off, roll that one in, then we lift it together.  Got it?”

“Got it.” I said.

“Whatcha doin’ out this ways?” She smiled.

“Uh… Running away from home.  Trying to head west.”  For some reason, I tried honesty. It felt right.

“What’s out west?” She said as she grunted with her tools against the tire.

“I don’t know.  But its the only direction I have right now.”

“Fair enough. How old are you, Jonny?”

“Not old enough to drink.” I skirted it.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen that age for a couple decades myself.  I wouldn’t want to be asked that question, either.”  She laughed.

“Where you headed?”

“First Boise City to drop off a small load, and then south to Dalhart. Bunch of feed lot equipment in back. People smell cow shit, I just smell money to be made.” She grunted again. “Tire is coming off.  Roll that one in.  Good. One, two, three…”

I lifted it hard and the tire slid home.

“Great.  Let me get this bolted on, and then we can lift the dead one back into the cage.”

“Sure.” I said.

“You need a lift, Jonny?” She asked in a matronly sort of way.  Like a caring grandmother would.  Maybe I was imagining it.

“If you don’t mind the dog.”

“Not at all. You can meet Charlie.  He’s a weiner, real friendly. He’s up in the cab.  Probably sleeping, lazy lil’ bastard.” She grinned. “Your pup’s name?”

“I haven’t… I don’t… uh.  I don’t have one?”  I tripped all over that. Smooth.

“That’s ok.  You don’t have to name a pup right away.  I called one of my dachshunds ‘Dog’ for months because I couldn’t think of a good name for him.”

“What did you end up calling him?”

“Doug.  I know, real stretch right?” She stood up straight and clapped her hands on her jeans. “Time to load that tire up and we can get rolling.  Finally.  I have been wrestling with that thing for an hour.”

We lifted the tire in, chained it down, and she stowed her tools. I reached down to pick up the wolf cub, and she still sat there, acting like the dumbest little thing on the planet.  While I had her up, I found out it was definitely a she.  A little girl.  No wonder she knew how to press my buttons.  Typical.

“Hop in.  Charlie! Visitors!” She yelled towards the cab.

A little narrow head with very floppy ears popped up in the window, and two little bright brown eyes were looking at me, and the wolf in my arms with curiosity.  His tail was wagging so fast, I thought he was going to take off. I opened the door and sat in the cozy cab.  It was cleaner than I was expecting, and I set the wolf pup down on the floor.  Charlie bounded over to her over a well practiced route through the seats and gave her a good sniffing. My pup just ignored it and panted with the silly grin on her face.

“Show off.” I whispered.

The other door opened and Frankie pulled herself into the cab. She grabbed some baby wipes from under the seat and tossed them to me.  “Wipe up, you need it as much as I do.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.  Hungry?”

“I don’t want to be a bother, I am already mooching the ride off of you.” I said sheepishly.

“Bullshit. You saved me a bunch of time and possible a tow truck fee.  Least I can do is toss you a water bottle and a couple granola bars.”

“Well then. Yes, please.”

She reached behind her seat and handed me a couple ice cold water bottles and handful of bars. “It’s not much, but it will keep you for a little bit.”

I felt a small lump in my throat.  “Thank you Frankie.”

“Let’s roll!  Day light is wasting away.”  She grinned.  She fired up the truck and we started rolling on to Boise City.  I looked for the dogs, and they were both curled up on the rear bench, sleeping next to each other, curled up in a little ball of coarse fur.

I wolfed down a granola bar, drank an entire water bottle, and closed my eyes.  And I was out before Frankie could say another word.

I woke up to the semi down-shifting with a loud johnny brake. The cab shook a bit, and we were pulling off the highway at a sign that said ‘Welcome to Boise City, Lake Carl Etling / Sante Fe Trail / Golf Course / Black Mesa State Park / Museum’.  The Black Mesa State Park caught my attention immediately.  I looked back at the dogs, and they were still sleeping.

Frankie caught my eye, and smiled wide.  “You sleep like the dead, kid.”

“Long day, I guess.  This is where you turn south?”

“After my drop, yeah, I head south.  I was thinking about it… I know a really good teen shelter in Oklahoma City.  I, uh, used to be a resident myself.  You could stick with me a little while, help me with the loads.  I could pay you a little too.  Just enough so you don’t feel guilty.” She smiled.  “Then when I swing close to OK City, I can drop you by with a friend.  She helped me, she can help you too.”

That did sound like a good deal.  Like a really good deal.  But I felt a nudge in my elbow, with a cold nose against the inside of my arm. I knew what she was telling me, even without the bark.

“Thank you Frankie.  You have no idea.  But something is telling me to head west.”

“Are you sure?” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah. I am sure.”

She handed me a couple twenties from her shirt pocket.  “I had a feeling that would be the answer. Take this then.”

“Oh I can’t.”

“I owe you for the tire. Just take it and do something nice for someone else down the road.  Ok?”  Frankie smiled.

“You got it.” I smiled.  I felt the lump again.

“Head that way a couple blocks, you will hit the main street.  You should be able to find the visitor center at the park.  Be safe, kid.  Keep the water and the bars, too.”

“Thanks Frankie.”

“See ya, Jonny.”

Charlie was awake and barked at the two of us as we climbed out. Frankie pulled a short double blast on her horn and pulled away.

The pup in my arm looked up at me and barked.  That smile of hers again.  The sun was going down in the next couple hours… but everything felt a little better.

“And you. Your name is henceforth Meryl.  It should be obvious to anyone who has seen your acting chops. ” I set her down. “So you tell me. Which way, Mer?  You and I need to find a place to camp at some point.”

Bark.

And we headed out.  I stopped by a gas station market-thingie and bought a cheap tourist backpack and filled it with water and cheap food. It was enough to keep me and Mer happy for three or four days, as long as I found places to refill the bottles.  I bought some iodine tabs to be on the safe side, and tossed a map in for good measure.  I didn’t spend all my money, but I went through more than two-thirds of it with that little shopping spree.

Rationing was the name of the game. The game that was taking me straight out of town.  Following a wolf pup.

I was definitely nuts.

“Jonny, you ass, I told you to stop at the Loaf and Jug on the way home, and get me my Lights!  What am I supposed to do now?”

I pushed the screen door open from our piece of shit trailer, and let it slam behind me, yelling over my shoulder.  “Oh I don’t know, Mom, how about walking up there yourself?”

“What you say?”  She feigned a hearing problem.  This is what she did, always manipulating the hell out of me.

“I said that maybe you SHOULD GET OFF YOUR ASS AND DO IT YOURSELF.”  I yelled back at the trailer.  Fuck this.  I flipped a lone solitary bird over my shoulder and walked away.  I heard her yell something, but I didn’t bother listening.

Right back atchya.

I headed to the Meet.  That was the nickname for a portion of a small creek that bent its way this way and that through our shit county, and had a small deep area the local kids hand commandeered as a private swimming pool for the baking Oklahoma summers.  The Meet was where we smoked, acted older than we really were, and occasionally drank ourselves stupid with 3.2 beer.  I had a small band of friends, all resident fuckups of the Rez, and had been across the bench with more than a few times.  We were real winners.  In other words, total fuckups. The only girl was Sesame, but she was probably tougher than all of us boys, she didn’t put up with shit. Jack was my best friend and had a thing for thrash metal, long hair down his back, a leather jacket hanging nearby to at least show how metal he was.  Benny was a fucking retard, but we didn’t tell him that, and he went along with it.  Hanks was the asshole of the group, but he was great to have around in case some older kids or adults came around to fuck with us.  He was built like a tank, he knew it, and loved rubbing our faces in it.  Except for Sesame, who didn’t put up with it.  I swear to god, one time, she yelled at Hanks for being a rude fuck and hit him so hard, he lost a eye tooth.  Yeah… no one has fucked with Ses since that.

We put up with Hanks, Ses is a walking legend, Benny has a heart of gold, and Jack was the smart one I guess.  I brought nothing but a mouth and mountain of problems on my shoulders.  I guess that would make me the funny one, but then again, maybe I was the pity case and I just didn’t know it.   You can’t be too introspective about these sort of things, because more times than not, you are wrong.  People are complex machines, sometimes they don’t understand how they tick.  I was so twisted up inside, I barely had the ability to cry in front of others.  Wait a minute.  Was I the retard?

Great.  Now that makes Benny the misunderstood one with a heart of gold.  Grand.

Everyone was at the Meet already, and by the time my mind caught up with my legs, I was already catching bits of laughter and conversation that I wasn’t paying attention to.  I spread my arms wide as I dropped into the gully and yelled, “Your Chief has arrived.”

“Chief what?  Dumbass?” Yelled Ses from the water.

“Uh, yeah, Chief Dumbass?” Hanks laughed with a slight sneer.  My theory is he had a thing for Ses, but didn’t tell her or anyone else, and just hoped she would come around on her own.  Probably was afraid of her too.  That could be a bit of it.

“Oh, real original Hanks.  Your shirt must be too tight, it is cutting off the air to your brain.”  I shot back.

Benny smiled, then frowned, then smiled, and settled for not saying anything.  He hugged me as I got the tree and sat back down to look into the water.

“Heya Benny.  Don’t stare too long, the catfish don’t like it.” I smiled down at him. “Where’s Jack?”

“Jack is over there taking a piss.”  Ses called.  She pointed at the other bank with a grin.  “But he has been over there so long, he is either rubbing one out at the sight of me swimming, or taking the largest shit of his life.”

“Oh fuck off, Ses!  I am pissing…  Leisurely!”  Jack yelled from the bushes.

We all laughed.  I took off my shirt, shoes, and my walkman and jumped into the water with my cutoffs still on.  Ses was splashing about in the deep area, but I just wanted to cool off.  Oklahoma was hot, dusty, and hot.  Not necessarily in that order.

“Come on Benny, jump in.  You are sweating staring at the water.” I yelled.

Benny shook his head and mumbled something. I swam over to the bank next to his little lookout and looked up at him.

“What’s wrong, Benny?” I said more quietly.

“The water, Jonny.  Its talking today.” He smiled slowly.  “I am having a hard time hearing it, but I am getting bits and pieces.”

“Oh yeah?  Whats it saying today Benny?”  Benny was special, but I don’t think he was dumb.  His thoughts just moved in different directions.

“Saying something about your Grandfather.”  Benny said.

“My grandpas have been dead for a long time, Benny.  My mom’s dad died before I was born, and my dad’s dad passed when we were in first grade.  Remember?  We all went to the funeral.”

“No, not your grandpas.  Your Grandfather.  The water won’t say much else.  Just says he is on the Butte waiting for you.  …Find the wolf.  Yeah, definitely, find the wolf.”

“That sounds pretty crazy, Benny.” I laughed nervously.  “You feeling ok?”

“Just what I am hearing, Jonny. Tumbling Raven to the water, following the old one.  Grandfather.  Yours.” He pointed at me. “You need to leave.”

“Leave?  Benny, I just got here. Was going to swim with you and Jack and Ses and even Hanks for awhile.  I have a tenner, thought I would buy us a bag of burgers later.  Come on in Benny.  You are sweating yourself silly.”

Benny’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no Jonny.  You have to leave today.  Now would be better.”

“Why Benny?  Why today?”

“Because Ses and Jack are going to drown and Hanks is going to blame you.  No one is going to believe you.”

“What?!”  I turned around, and realized that I hadn’t heard Ses or Jack or Hanks.  I called, “Ses?”

“SES!  JACK!” I shouted.   I looked all over the bend, but I didn’t see them. Hanks was climbing back down the hill from the edge with a water case in hand.  His face looked troubled.

“Have you seen Jack or Ses?” I yelled.

“No.  I was at the truck grabbing my jug. Why?”

“SES!  JACK!” I yelled as I swam out to the deep part and took a deep breath. I ducked under and kicked down as hard as I could.  The water here was only 10 to 12 feet deep, but the water was full of silt and impossible to see through.  I pushed my self down, blindly grabbing around, hoping to snag something that resembled an arm or a leg or something.  I kicked my way back up and took a deep breath.  Hanks was still standing at the edge looking at me with something weird on his face.  I couldn’t look any closer, so I took a deep breath and kicked back down.  My fingers brushed something to my right.   I kicked over and felt an arm.  A hand.  I grabbed it and pulled up hard.  Something was pulling on it from the other side… I couldn’t see or feel what it was.  I found the bottom with my feet and pushed up as hard as I could, grasping the hand with both of mine.  As I cleared the water, I pulled the person up to my chest and saw it was Jack.  His long hair was plastered all over his face and chest.

I dragged him to the bank as quickly as I could.

“Hanks you GODDAMN IDIOT, help me!  Now!”  I yelled.

He finally started moving and grabbed Jack, pulling him from the water like a canoe.  For once I was glad he had all those ridiculous muscles.   I pulled myself out and pushed down hard on Jack’s chest.  I pushed as hard as I could and water spouted out from his mouth.  I bent over, cupped his chin and his pinched his nose and exhaled everything I had.  He coughed, vomited out water all over the bank, and started breathing.  His eyes fluttered and he kept retching, but at least he was breathing.

“Oh thank god. Hanks, come on, we have to find Ses.” I said. “Benny, watch him.”

Hanks just stood there, gaping like an idiot.

“WHAT THE FUCK, HANKS, COME ON!”  I yelled.

“I don’t know how to swim, Jonny.”  He said quietly.

“WHAT!? You have been swimming for years.”  Then it dawned on me that I had never actually seen him in the deep water. “Fuck.”

I swam back out to the deep, and dove again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  I would move over every dive, hoping against hope.  I was running out of time.  I had ran out of time.  I dove again.  Then something grabbed me.  I almost screamed under the water.  It wasn’t a hand, or a claw, or anything like that.  It was the water.  It was an undertow.  A heavy hand, like gravity, but sucking, pulling, and keeping me from the air above.  I panicked for a second, then stopped fighting it.  I was pushed along for a few seconds.  I waited until I found a pause, but the water was vicious. My lungs were burning, my vision behind my eyelids was full of creeping red.  I finally found a small chance and pushed up as hard as I could.  I broke the surface and took a huge ragged breath, only to get half of it in water and being drug down again.  Then I knew. Right there.

This is how Ses just died.  Jack must have got caught on something.  A branch or rock or something stuck in the silt.   But I was in it.  It had me.

I pushed myself hard.  Started swimming with it as best I could, angling for the surface.  I broke the surface again, and was able to take a breath.  And I saw her.  Face down.  At the bank.

I felt the current let go and I literally crawled my way over to her.  I felt almost dead… my breaths were ripping harsh breaths, stinging my lungs, while my eyes felt raw from the silt.  I was feeling broken and helpless, my heart was flayed and laid bare.  We were past the bend.  No wonder I hadn’t heard her.  I pulled myself up to the rocks and dragged her floating body over to me.  I flipped her over slowly.  She was gone, and no amount of CPR was going to do anything at this point.

But I tried anyway.  I pulled her onto the rocks, half way submerged up her shoulders as she laid there.  I pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed, and blew, and pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed, and blew again.  I think I screamed.  I think I screamed a lot.  It kind of blurred together.  I lost track.  The screaming, the crying, the horrible sensation of rage at the cruelty of everything.  I pushed down hard on the third set, and felt some ribs crack in her lifeless body.

She was blue.  And white.

I felt a shadow from the top of the high bank fall down on me.  I turned and saw Hanks looking down.  His eyes said everything, and Benny had already told me.  But he said it anyway.

“You… murderer.”

“I tried to save her, Hanks.”

“Bullshit. You pushed her under.  Didn’t you?  Jack probably saw.  You pushed him under too.  Then you change your mind when I catch you going over the story with Benny.  Think your secret is safe with that retard?  Just wait.  You fucked up when you saved Jack.  I am going to get the Deputy. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

“That is insane, Hanks.  Why would I kill my best friends?  Benny and I were talking, Jack and Ses got pulled under!”

“Yeah right.  You told Benny about the drowning, he was agreeing with you.  You saw me and dove under.  You pull Jack up, you go back out, you dive under and don’t come back.  Then I hear screaming, I come over here to find you hovering over Ses’s dead body.  You sick fuck.  I am going for the Deputy.”  His face disappeared.

I looked down at Ses and pushed her raven hair out of her eyes.  They were closed, thank god.  I touched her cheek and started crying again.

A few minutes later, another shadow came over the edge.  It was Benny.

“Benny, oh thank god.  We have to lift her out.  I don’t think I can swim back with her body.”

“Jack told me to find you.  I found you.”  Benny smiled.

“Benny, did you hear me?  We have to lift her out of here.”

“Water told me not to, Jonny.  Water said she was safe.  Water told me to tell you to run. Run right now.  So I brought your stuff.”  Benny said.  He tossed my shoes and shirt and my walkman into the water next to me. The walkman shattered when it hit the rocks, and my shirt and shoes immediately were soaked.

“God dammit Benny!  Listen.  The water did not say anything to you.  The water can’t talk!  Ses is just laying here.  Come on Benny!”  I yelled.

His eyes started to water and he sniveled.  He turned away, and I heard him sob. “Run, Jonny. Run.”

So I kissed Ses on the cheek as gently as I could and pushed myself back into the water.  I floated downstream for an hour, then crawled up the other side.

And I ran.

I was born under a tin roof, in an ugly bathroom adorned with long outdated seventies décor. If full size toilet covers were manufactured, like those squeaky plastic furniture covers one would see in any old lady’s house, the toilet I was brought into this world on would have had one.  I wish I could say I was born on a dark and stormy night, but in reality, I was born in the middle of a typical summer Tuesday, to a half-drunk mother and a essentially non-existent fully-drunk father. The sky was blue, the sun was hot, and the reservation in Oklahoma was my new home, as I had been recently evicted from my cozy warm place inside my mother.

The mobile home I was born in, festooned with fake wood panelling, lacquered veneers, and ugly formica countertops had the thickest, nastiest orange shag carpeting the world had ever seen.  Honestly the whole thing should have been burned down.

But that could be said about a lot of the homes sitting on the Rez.  Each had its own problems, both structurally and socially.  Some were falling apart on the outside, some were falling apart on the inside, and most of them had occupants falling apart themselves for different reasons.  Divorce, Alcohol abuse, substance abuse, unemployment, and a general malaise infected everything around the Rez… it was inescapable. It stuck to you.  The flypaper of the Rez always hung on.

I was infected myself.  All those obligations of culture hung like a necklace that nobody wanted to wear.  Heavy, awkward, and only earned you odd stares in the streets offrez.   It is a stigma.  We are a strong people.  Deep down, we truly are.  But we were broken, and rebroken, for two hundred years, faced extinction and genocide, and something like that sticks with you.  It binds us together and makes us slaves to our past.  People look at the black slaves out of Africa that were forced onto American shores, forced to work, forced to eat, forced to sleep, raped, beaten, and killed in order to maintain an order of life and civilization in the rural south. But they rarely talk about the entire race of people that lived in those lands before the Europeans ever landed.

I see the country we live in celebrate black history month and I laugh bitterly.  …Not to discount their struggles.  But their ‘race’ was never threatened with extinction.  Horrible transgressions against their humanity, yes, but not ethnic cleansing levels of transgression.  You live here, you get it.  You understand it.  Conform, forget your past, adhere to the American way of life, and be damn happy about it.

I am really getting off track.  This is not a soapbox.  This is a story.  But you need to understand where I was born, and where I was raised, in order to understand what happened on the Butte.  I can’t go to the mesa and ignore the path up its side.

My name is Jonathon Tumbling Raven Smith, a Chocktaw by my father’s line, and Cherokee by my mother’s.  I probably have a slew of other tribes in my bloodline, that’s how things work out these days.  I am probably Chickasaw, Osage, Ponca, Kiowa, Comanche, Apache, Cheyenne, Kaw, Seminole, and every other tribe that was corralled into the borders of the Oklahoma Territory.   I don’t think anyone could really keep track, given the circumstances, and the life on the Rez.  Some really value their family trees.

Whatever, man.  My family tree is a burnt out stump at this point.  My family is me, my dog, and his fleas.  I left home when I turned 16.  Maybe I should start there.  That is a good place.   And every story needs a good place to start.