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   *                             "NEW TO LOVE"                              *
   *                                (part 7)                                *
   *                             by Vince Water                        5/03 *
   **************************************************************************
   | Copyright 2002-2006 by Vince Water                      Corrected 3/06 |
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      I'm pressing the phone hard against my ear. To hear Jesse's voice is
   soothing to my aching heart. My head is still in turmoil. I don't seem to
   know anything anymore.

      "Mike? You were really scared about something that happened yesterday..."

      I'm remembering my spoken vow to the tribal Elders. I can't tell him
   that the police are looking for me but I can say why. "Jesse. Your
   grandfather is looking for a Power Bundle of your People. Both him and
   Quiet-before-the-dawn are. I've been charged to find it. They think Ron
   had it before he was... killed. That bundle is the reason why you and me
   are Connected. And why Ron's ghost is in my trailer."

      "The police came to see you yesterday!"

      I'm pressing my lips tightly together.

      "Mike. Why don't you answer me?"

      "I'm under vow not to speak about it, Jesse. Please try to understand."

      "Is my grandfather going to tell me what's happening tonight?"

      "Yes. He's going to bind you in an oath. There's something big going on
   and you and me are a part of it."

      "We're to find this bundle."

      "Yes." I'm afraid to say anything more.

      "Does Ron's diary tell you what he did with it?"

      "Why do you think he had that bundle?" I carefully ask. I'm treading
   close to breaking my vow.

      "It makes sense. He's helped my tribe with recovering sacred objects
   from museums and private collectors. Can you believe that the bones of my
   ancestors were being kept in display cases and violated by scientists? Ron
   worked hard to get them back to Native tribes for a proper burial. He must
   have found a really important Blackfoot bundle and that's why he was killed."

      "Do you know where it is?" I'm asking because Jesse has been with Ron a
   lot and maybe that man had told him something. 'Pillow talk' comes to mind.

      "No. I don't. That's why Ron's spirit has been Called down to help.
   You've been given dreams from him. I know he wants you to find it and to
   learn who had shot him."

      In a low voice, "Your grandfather is going to explain all that tonight.
   Don't tell him that we've talked about Ron's murder. Or the police. I
   wasn't suppose to discuss any of this until after you've made your vow."

      "Mike. My grandfather knows of our spiritual bond. There's no way that
   you can keep anything from me! They need our help. I know that we can find
   this bundle that Ron had."

      "Me too. That's why I had asked the Elders to include you in our council
   about this matter. You and I are bound up in it." A terrible realization
   comes to me. I'm afraid to ask him if it is so.

      "Mike. That bundle didn't make me fall in love with you."

      He knows what I was thinking! Even when we are far away from each other.
   "I hope that's true. No. I'm sorry, Jesse. I shouldn't have doubted that.
   The bundle is of Power. It's the reason why our spirits are coming
   together. Not why we fell in love."

      "We were chosen, Mike."

      "For what?"

      "I don't know exactly but it's important to my People. I'm feeling this
   very strongly but I can't explain it to you."

      "Okay. What I know is that I'm feeling the need to be with you."

      "I'm aching to see you too, Mike!"

      "Maybe we'll be together tomorrow after our grandfather has spoken to
   your mom."

      "I hope so too. Mike? I love you for always!"

      I'm pausing to remember those Indian words. "Ah. Ne stoa pinnan jeh
   ah-eene, Jes-ee-ah."

      "Ne stoa pinnan jeh ah-eene, Sah-kee-otokan."

      Tears come to my eyes. "Our love will help us overcome anything!"

      "I know it will!"

      I'm smiling when Jesse makes kissing sounds over the phone. I kiss him
   back. "I'll see you soon." The line goes dead. I'm falling to the kitchen
   floor while cradling the phone in my arms. I don't let go of it even when
   it wails for a long while like my aching heart.


      After drinking a glass of water, I'm stalking back to my room. My laptop
   is booted up. The telephone line is reconnected to my modem port. With a
   heavy heart, I'm turning the pages in that zerox of Ron's diary to what
   I've translated. It's strange that he didn't actually date that entry. I
   wish that I had never read it!

      I'm looking at the previous page. It bears a date and two pages after
   that, Ron has written entries for the 20th. The handwriting is different.
   I'm not thinking that Ron didn't pen that damning page but it's undated
   (I'd assumed it was a continuation from the previously dated page) and
   stands apart from the rest. There are no abbreviations. The cursive
   lettering is larger and his sentences flow like a poem. I study the four
   words that I couldn't make out.

      The MS-Word document is brought up on my screen. I read through the two
   paragraphs again. Three of the unknown words can be guessed at but they're
   not vital to the context of what he wrote. What catches my eye is his very
   last sentence: 'Ich ???'. Seven letters are counted. It begins with a 'v'
   followed by a letter I can't make out then 'ang' and ending with 'ew.'

      I connect to the Internet. While waiting, I'm pondering over this word.
   It's important to know what it means. From my Favorites list, I click on
   the 'Leo German <-> English Dictionary' website. 'V*angew' is typed in the
   German entry field. After a long pause, I'm given the warning that I have
   misspelled it. Even by using the '*' wildcard character, no possible
   matches come up. I'm examining that word again in the zerox.

      Oh. It's not one letter between the 'v' and the 'a' but two letters! I
   should have realized that no lone vowel before 'a' would fit properly. It
   needs a consonant with it. I'm looking through Ron's text for other words
   that begin with the letter 'v'. I don't find one but 'onkel' grabs my
   attention. Ron had written: 'Es der junge's onkel ist' for 'It the boy's
   uncle is'. The '-el' in 'onkel' is similar to his scrawl after the 'v' in
   his very last word on the page. I don't know what 'verlangew' means. It
   still doesn't look spelled right to me.

      The last letter catches my eye. I've assumed it was a 'w' but the 'e'
   before it uses part of the first curving of what I thought was a 'w'. It's
   really an 'n'! I'm quickly typing in Ron's last two words: 'Ich verlangen'
   into the online German translator. It spits back something in English.

      I'm staring at my screen. Everything falls into place now - his easily
   read two paragraphs without abbreviations and how it flows like a poem.
   Ron's last sentence is: 'I wish.'

      That's why this page was undated. It's not a continuation from the
   previous page dated November 19th but something on its own, outside time.
   Ron had written something he'd fantasized about probably coming from his
   guilt by fucking his lover's nephew behind his back. He feared that
   Running Water would catch him doing Jesse. I'm rereading his poem while
   typing my guesses for the missing words in parentheses.

         (A) willing partner, Jes in my bed is. He enjoys to be sucked.
         After my hands explore his brown smooth skin down to wonderful
         twin hills, his deep valley is tasted. (Spit/tongue) prepared.
         As the keen eagle, I fly down and go in his rabbit hole. The
         joy of it! Jes joins in my cries. At my ending, he holds me
         close so that it is I who don't escape.

         We watched have been. It the boy's uncle is. Not angry as I
         feared, my lover his clothes remove and he on our bed comes.
         Next to Jes he lies. Waiting. My hands over his back in
         massage. Their hands holding with eyes at the other in
         knowing smiles. My eagle again flies down. When I am done,
         two butts with my love filled are. In me no shame. They turn
         so to backs touching, hands finding when (their/two) butts
         rubbed in Indian ritual are. I wish.

      Relief fills me when reading the last two words Ron had written at the
   end of his sick poem. I should have realized that it couldn't have been a
   true account. Even if Running Water had jumped into bed to have Ron fuck
   him (after doing Jesse? Ron would have been too tired out.) they wouldn't
   have turned to rub butts in some kind of Indian ritual. Jesse has told me
   that it's incest for him to be with his uncle that way. He'd once gotten
   into bed naked with Ron and Running Water when they were fucking but his
   uncle made Jesse leave. He could only watch them. What Ron has written
   about them rubbing their fucked butts together just wouldn't have happened.
   It's pure fantasy. I sure wish I'd figured that out earlier because I've
   caused Jesse and me so much heart ache.

      My thoughts turn to that other rash act I'd done from anger. I've wasted
   $426 (plus lots of fees) on that airline ticket I purchased. I'm not going
   to take that flight tomorrow. Hmm. It may yet serve me. Don't the police
   check things like that to see where a fugitive has fled? They'll think I
   have flown back home to Indiana and will stop searching for me here.

      I crack my knuckles and get back to work with translating Ron's diary.
   I'm looking at the page dated November 18th. Although it's a short entry,
   he's used a lot of abbreviations. Even if those had been written in English,
   I'd still be hard pressed to figure them out. An idea comes to me.

      I pour over Ron's first entry. There are no abbreviations to be found.
   His handwriting is also easier to read. I'll be able to get used to his
   style of writing, the way he pens words and that will help me later with
   the most important entries that he's written at the end.

      In MS-Word, I type the date: 'January 1, 2002' followed by a blank line,
   type: '{Five entries}' and another blank line. With the help of that on-line
   translator and changing German tenses to proper English as I go, I've come
   up with the follow:

         1. New Year's day my head hurts. I celebrated last night alone
         and miss Running Water. He said that he'll see me tomorrow night.

         2. The heater in my trailer is failing. Need to speak with the
         manager about that. (Put on to-do list). It too cold.

         3. I look back at my victories from the previous year and am
         satisfied. Two Chippewa skeletons were recovered for burial. A
         medicine woman's pouch was returned to the Blackfoot. An eagle
         feathered peace pipe and (???) (???) returned to the Cree from
         private collectors. A dispute over rights to new oil wells in
         the R.B. Res. resolved. I'm finalizing the details of payment
         percentages between the Native Nations who lay claim.

         4. Quiet-before-the-dawn has given me a few more leads on
         whom I should issue Discovery Orders on. There is a museum in
         Malta where he's heard that a Blackfoot shaman Fetish is in
         their basement storage. A bar called the 'Injun Engine' in
         Flatwillow has a skull hanging from their ceiling that might
         be Native American. Mr. Alan Tremwall is rumored to have a
         Cree (healing?) pouch in his private collection. Said objects
         are known to have sewn in their lining the finger bones of
         powerful shamans to lend them Power. Montana's Native American
         Directive C882.03 section 01 comes into effect today that
         enhances our rights to search and seize ancestral belongings
         from collections both public and private. Even if a court
         (order?) frees this item for verification, said examination
         will violate the object. It's a catch-22 situation.

         5. Need to check on left rear tire of my car. I think it's
         leaking air (again?) so either patch or replace. (To-do list).

      I reread Ron's entries for New Year's Day to check for errors. My hands
   were flying from entering in the German sentences, getting back the English
   translation and copying/pasting them into MS-Word. I've made the necessary
   tense changes. I have to make sure that I've interpreted his meaning
   correctly. Those words I couldn't make out or are guesses have parentheses
   around them. When I'm satisfied, the document is saved. I'm turning to the
   next page. It looks like it's going to be easy to translate as the first.

      The hours pass. I've gotten up once to relieve myself and stretched my
   aching legs. At least my heart is at peace. I am making clear progress on
   Ron's diary but nothing that we're interested in has been revealed. That's
   because I'm working on the earlier dated entries. I am getting a feel for
   his handwriting and a few abbreviations were deciphered. This will prove
   useful later when I translate what he's written in November. I've translated
   his entries up to February 4th. Events that happened more than a year ago.

      I'm surprised that Ron didn't write much about Running Water. Only
   noting when they could get together; no juicy details of what they did.
   Perhaps Ron felt it was too personal a matter to express his feelings for a
   lover in his diary. Anger fills me. He had no problem with writing that
   sick fantasy of his.

      I decide to take another break. After taking a piss, I wander into the
   kitchen. My stomach hurts me a little but not from hunger pains. I'm
   ashamed. How could I have believed that Running Water would allow Ron to
   use his nephew for sex? I've thought about erasing Ron's translated entry
   from MS-Word. It would do no good to show it to Running Water. It was mere
   fantasy. But the trouble it has caused!

      I'm looking in the refrigerator out of curiosity. It's filled with lots
   of leftovers in plastic containers and I recognize one of Winna's blue
   serving plates. Doesn't this man cook for himself? Oh. His wife had probably
   done that for him. How did she die, I wonder? I'm not going to ask him that.

      I step out into the backyard. It's covered in at least two feet of snow.
   The hot tub catches my eye. A path has been trod through the snow to it. I'm
   in need of a way to relieve the stress of this day! Perhaps Hawk Flying Over
   will join me afterwards. I don't know how to start it and it's more fun to
   join someone than to sit in the tub alone. What would he look like naked?
   I'm angrily shaking my head. My brother has warned me not to upset him.
   He's being kind to let me stay here. Even if he might be gay, I don't want
   to make a move on him that would get me kicked out of his house.

      A sigh is released from my mouth. I grab a handful of snow and make a
   snowball. It's thrown against the far fence, just falling short of it. Ron
   had written about a big snow storm in late January of 2002. He'd shoveled
   Winna's driveway for her. No mention of Jesse helping him. His diary entry
   did note a sad thing. How that woman had felt embarrassed by his kind act
   and that he wished she could accept his relationship with her nephew.

      I'm learning a lot about Ron. He's mentioned seeing Hawk Flying Over a
   number of times, usually when Running Water and him had slept over at this
   house. No mention of the hot tub or anything that would indicate that he
   thought this Indian is gay. The only time they were together alone (from
   what I've translated so far) was on February 2nd. Ron and Hawk Flying Over
   had gone out to observe a lunar eclipse. They're both into astronomy.

      I return to the warmth of the house. My short break has restored the
   circulation in my legs from sitting so much. I'm in need of a table or
   something. Working with my laptop on the floor is wearing on me.


      I've just completed Ron's lengthy entry for March 12th. His handwriting
   is slowly getting worse and there's more abbreviations but I've been able
   to translate nearly everything that he's written. Jesse is mentioned for
   the first time. Ron showed concern that 'the boy's lack of communication
   and social skills prevents him from attaining his true age' as he had
   put it. He'd tried engaging Jesse in a card game called 'Deuces' but the
   boy had shown little interest.

      I'm often saving this MS-Word document to my hard drive. A backup has
   also been made. I turn to the next page in Ron's diary. A knock at my door
   startles me. Hawk Flying Over comes right in without even asking!

     I quickly exit MS-Word and turn the zerox up-side-down so he won't see
   it. My actions draw the Indian's curious stare.

      "How are you, Mike?"

      "I'm fine." Is that anger showing on the Indian's face?

      "We've been trying to call you all day but the phone has been busy."

      I point at the telephone line snaked across the carpet to my laptop.
   "I've been on the Internet."

      The man frowns. "You haven't been doing anything illegal?" he asks.

      "No." Hawk Flying Over steps closer to me. He's looking down at the
   zerox but can only see the blank backside of it. "If you get a big phone
   bill, I'll pay for it."

      "What are you working on, Mike?"

      The Indian's voice sounds stern mixed with much suspicion. I release a
   tense breath. "I'm translating a text."

      "Can you show it to me?"

      His eyes remain glued to the zerox. "I can't." The Indian's eyes flare.
   He must think I am doing something illegal so I'll try to explain it. I
   don't want him thinking badly of me. "I'm under vow by the tribe's Elders
   not to talk about it." Hawk Flying Over stares at me with his eyes growing
   wide. He wasn't expecting that from me. The man turns away and is about to
   leave my room when he speaks.

      "I'm going to be heating up something for supper. Are you hungry?"

      "Yes." I'm not, but to reject his kind offer would strain things between
   us even more. The Indian closes my door behind him. I unplug the telephone
   line and slip my laptop into its bag along with the zerox. It's zippered up.

      After going to the bathroom (and washing my hands), I enter the kitchen.
   Hawk Flying Over has set the table. There are two candles burning. We sit
   down and pray. I'm taking a long moment to confess my sins unto God and
   asking Him for guidance in the days ahead. Mostly, I ask for patience.
   Whathappened this morning had nearly resulted in disaster.

      Hawk Flying Over hands me a steaming bowl. I'm ladling something watery
   onto my plate. Smells good even though I don't know what it is. Too thick
   to be soup, otherwise he'd have provided us with bowls. The Indian breaks
   off a chunk of bread from a round pita. He hands it to me. Our eyes meet.

      "Thank you." After breaking off a piece of bread for himself, the man
   dips it into the stew on his plate. I'm following his example. Hmm. Tastes
   like chicken soup. This is an odd way of eating, I'm thinking to myself.
   When my bread is consumed, I use a spoon to scoop up the thickened remains
   of my meal.

      "Mike?"

      I peer at the Indian. "Yes?"

      "Do you want more bread?" he asks.

      "No, thank you." I think Hawk Flying Over was going to ask me something
   else but he lost his nerve. "I don't know what this is, but it tastes good."

      "y aunt had made it."

      "Winna?" A sharp pain goes through my stomach. I recall my last meal with
   her on Sunday, how nice her eyes looked at me (as if I were her loving son)
   and how all that has changed. My nose pains me when I try holding back
   tears. The Indian notices.

      "Yes. She makes good cristequenats ohkitchis miista-ksoom-ahk-ihkiaa
   koopis."

      I'm quickly wiping my face of tears when looking at the steaming bowl.

      "It's bighorn sheep stew. We soak it up with bread and eat with our
   fingers. Do you want some more?"

      I shake my head. I've lost my appetite, not because I'm eating the flesh
   of an animal I've not tasted before.

      "Mike. It is difficult for Winna to accept that Running Water is gay.
   When she learned that you're with him..."

      I'm surprised by this Indian's boldness. He's talking during our meal
   and aying strong things to a stranger. Isn't that against custom? I know
   that he's trying to comfort me. He'd seen my burst of tears. My face is
   burning with embarrassment.

      I set my spoon down. Hawk Flying Over rises from the table to collect
   our dishes. I'm drinking water from my glass until it's emptied. His glass
   and mine are taken to the sink where he's washing our plates and silverware.
   Our eyes meet.

      "Hawk Flying Over. I appreciate what you're trying to tell me." In a
   mere whisper, "Winna isn't upset with me because of her nephew." I'm
   feeling the need to tell him about what's going on. The Indian nods. After
   a long moment of silence, he turns his attention to rinsing the dishes and
   sets them on the rack to dry. Our cups, too. I just couldn't bring myself
   to telling him about Jesse and me. Not yet.

      "I have a hot tub in the backyard. You want to go?"

      A smile comes to my lips. "Yeah. Running Water has shown me. It's really
   nice." That draws a knowing look from this Indian. He dries his hands with
   a towel then walks to the back door. We're removing our socks. He grabs
   two towels from a tall wicker basket before we go outside.

      It is cold! We're rushing barefoot through the snow and fly up the stairs
   to that midlevel platform. The Indian begins removing his clothes and I
   take mine off. I'm averting my eyes from his nakedness. We set our clothes
   in that covered shelf. Hawk Flying Over streaks up the remaining stairs. My
   eyes fall over his backside. His body is an Indian brown, smooth and what a
   nice butt on him. There's a curious scar over his left cheek. I'm also
   noticing that his arms and legs are the proper proportion to his body. He
   probably doesn't have Marfan's Syndrome like Jesse and Running Water.

      At the top, Hawk Flying Over is already climbing down the ladder into
   the hot tub. I've missed catching a glimpse of his cock. At my feet are
   the two folded towels. I turn, make a careful step down into the steaming
   water. Ah. I can hardly wait!

      I'm startled by the man's hand around my neck.

      "You shouldn't wear your feather in the hot water," he explains.

      I allow Hawk Flying Over to remove my thong necklace. He sets it over
   the top rung of the ladder. When I turn, the Indian dunks himself in the
   deep part of the hot tub. I'm joining him.

      My face and hair burns from the heat. We sit down on opposite sides.
   His right hand reaches up for the control knob. The water begins to churn.
   Ahhh...

      All the tension this day has brought me melts away. I'm kicking my legs.
   Hawk Flying Over lays his head back over the upper ledge. He's obviously
   enjoying the hot tub as much as I am. We sit for a long while.


      I've been looking at the Indian from time to time. He doesn't notice my
   curious glances on him. Not to look at his body, that's mostly submerged.
   I've seen most of it when we were undressing and his climb up the stairs.
   He bears no tattoos over his body. His hair has been cut short.

      My thoughts return to why I'm looking at him. I'm wondering what this
   man thinks about me? I've noticed the change in him from his unfriendly
   attitude when we met this morning. He was mad at me after coming home from
   work but when I explained why I was tying up his phone all day, that it
   was something I was working on for his Elders, that's when things changed
   for the better.

      I suppose that Indians are naturally suspicious and hostile towards us
   white folk. Too much bad history between us. When that barrier they put up
   around them can be breached, I find something beautiful inside. A human
   warmth. Winna has shown me this (how my heart aches to think I've betrayed
   her trust!) and the tribe's Elders are very kind to me. I still can't quite
   believe that Quiet-before-the-dawn has given me an eagle's feather! Running
   Water considers me his brother. And Jesse... What he has given me is a
   happiness that I've been lacking for so long. I didn't know how empty was
   my soul until he filled it! Our hearts are one. We are more and more sharing
   even what we think. It is wondrous.

      My big grin has caught Hawk Flying Over's attention. He sits up straight
   and looks fully upon me. I'm preparing myself to be questioned by him.

      "Isn't this a joy?" the Indian asks with a deep sigh.

      "Yeah. Yours is the first hot tub that I've ever been in." I'm smiling,
   relieved that he's not asking me something difficult as I'd feared.

      "My cousin Running Water and I had built it. Good, eh?"

      I'm nodding my head. "It looks like a professional job." The Indian's
   grin fades from his face. I stop kicking my legs in the deep end and sit
   up straight. I'm feeling that he's ready to ask me something serious.

      "Where are you from, Mike?"

      "Gary, Indiana. That's where my parents raised me. It's a lot of flat
   sandy landscape with trees growing all over the place. Not like here in
   Montana. I know why it's called 'Big Sky Country'. I've been exploring your
   beautiful State for a few months now. The mountains! Some so high that snow
   covers them all year long, I'm told. I've done a lot of hiking through your
   rolling prairies and along streams. If it weren't so cold, I'd be swimming
   in them."

      The Indian laughs. "Even in the deepest summer, they remain cold. The
   lakes too. Do you like to fish?"

      I know he does from what I've read in Ron's diary. "Yeah. Who doesn't?"

      "Maybe I'll take you some time." The man goes into deep thought. "Do
   you like astronomy?"

      "Sure." I know he does. "What do we call our moon?" Most people don't
   know that it has a name.

      "Ah. Luna."

      I hear his Indian accent. A nice soft sound coming from deep in his
   throat. It's nice to listen to.

      "What is the name of our sun?" asks Hawk Flying Over.

      "Sol. That's why we refer to our planets around this sun as the solar
   system."

      "How many planets are there?" he asks.

      A trick question! "Officially, there are nine but it's believed that the
   furthest one out, Pluto, is actually an escaped moon. Scientists suspect
   that there may be yet another planet out there because of its slight
   gravitational influence over the other orbits they can't account for."

      "Yes. I've heard that. For now, that tenth body is called: 'Planet X'.
   I'm sure that you know that our solar system is in the Milky Way Galaxy
   but do you know what we collectively call the galaxies close to ours in
   this part of the universe?"

      "The Local Group." A sly smile comes to my lips. "Do you know what the
   speed of light is?" That should stump him!

      "Around one hundred eighty-six thousand miles per second."

      I'll give him the exact measurement. "It's 186,282.396 +/- .000007
   miles per second."

      "You do know something about astronomy. Have you used a telescope?"

      "I remember looking through one as a kid. Actually, my interest in space
   comes from watching 'Star Trek' when I was a boy."

      "Ah. Captain Kirk and Doctor Spock. I've seen a few episodes."

      I'm cringing inside. Most non-trekkers say 'doctor' instead of 'Mister'
   Spock, probably because of the famous baby book author, Dr. Spock.

      "If you want, I can set up my telescope some night and we'll look up
   into the heavens."

      "Thanks. I'd like that." Hawk Flying Over leans back with his head
   resting over the ledge again. I do the same, returning to that wonderful
   state of utter relaxation. His questions weren't what I was expecting.

      I listen to the bubbling water. It's a very soothing sound and I'm
   enjoying what it does for my body. Ahhh...

      My thoughts turn to Jesse, when we can be together. I'd love having him
   here in the hot tub with me. In my lap! His slim brown figure pressed
   against me while I hold him close, my cock tickling against his little
   butt. A smile comes to my lips. I'll show him that 'special feature' of
   this hot tub. After both our butt holes have been cleaned out and relaxed,
   we'd streak down to the bedroom to rim and fuck each other.

      I'm noticing my raging hard on. Not because of the hot water. I don't
   dare reach down to handle it because Hawk Flying Over would notice. Does
   he know that his cousin beats off in this hot tub?

      My face is burning. I'm feeling bad about thinking of Jesse with lust.
   He has a nice body. That's my physical attraction to that young Indian. My
   love for him is so much more though! His expressive face, that innocent
   honesty to him that touches my heart and I've seen how much he cares for
   others. 'Be with my uncle, Mike. He needs you.' I understand now why he'd
   asked that of me. Running Water really misses his lover. They were together
   for six years! Will Jesse and me reach that length of time, and beyond?

      I realize that no matter what happens between us, should we only become
   friends, separate, hate each other (I'm cringing inside) or are prevented
   from seeing each other because of his mother, we'll always have our
   connection. That's why we can share our thoughts, memories and communicate
   even when we're far apart. A spiritual joining. I was scared of it at
   first. And the dangers! But now, I've come to accept this strange thing
   that's happened to us. It has enhanced our love.

      I'm sensing our Connection. It is joyous! We won't ever be alone again
   because of it. Jesse is excited about something. Oh. His grandfather has
   finished eating dinner and he's going into the front room to talk with his
   mom. He hopes that Winna will be convinced to allow us to be together. I
   want this too!


      My arms are grabbed. I take a deep breath when my head is lifted from
   the water. Hawk Flying Over carries me back to the ledge. Such worry is on
   his face for me.

      "Mike! Are you alright?"

      "Yeah. My butt must have slipped off the ledge," I explain. "I'm okay,
   really!" I sit up straight and face the Indian. My hands motion him to
   return to his side of the hot tub. Relief fills me when he does. He's
   keeping an eye on me. I get the feeling that Running Water has warned him
   about my 'fits'. He probably didn't explain why I have them though.

      The water stops churning. Hawk Flying Over doesn't reset the timer much
   to my surprise. Oh. I see him panting for breath. He slowly rises from the
   water to sit on the upper ledge to cool off. My eyes go to his cock. It's
   only partially erected. I can't tell how long his can get.

      I'm getting out of the water myself. There's a slight wind blowing and
   it's cold. A nice contrast to the heat my body has endured. Our eyes meet.

      "Are you feeling better, Mike?"

      "Yes. I never knew how relaxing a hot tub can be. That's probably why I
   slipped under the water." The Indian becomes quiet. I'm thinking he was
   asking me about that.

      "I am sorry about how I acted earlier."

      "What?" Oh. He means that scene in my bedroom. "You couldn't have known.
   I'm working on something important for Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains and
   Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn."

      "What can you tell me about it, Mike?"

      I want to share with him but I'm under oath. Perhaps if I tell him
   something in a round about way, he'll understand without me having actually
   told him. "Ron has enjoyed your hot tub lots of times."

      "Yes. But it was the company that enhanced his pleasure of it."

      I'm smiling. "Was Running Water spending lots of nights over here with
   Ron?" The Indian's face becomes plain and unreadable.

      "You should ask your lover about that. It's not my place to say."

      A longing pain squeezes my heart. Perhaps this is the right moment to
   set him straight about that. "Running Water is only my brother."

      "Oh. Mike, I am sorry for assuming what I did."

      "That's okay." In a small voice, "He is showing me how to be gay. I love
   him dearly as a brother but my heart is set on someone else." I'm waiting
   for the Indian to ask me who but he doesn't. I'm ready to tell him. "I am
   in love with Jesse."

      A gasp. "Winna's son?" Hawk Flying Over drops his head in deep thought.
   "I'd been wondering why she was so mad after the meeting."

      "You didn't know?" Hope fills me that the others didn't figure out our
   secret either. I realize that he was there on Sunday. I recall a young man
   who had pointed his tom-tom at me in praise for my drumming. That could
   have been him.

      "Does the boy feel the same way for you?"

      "Yes." I'm feeling stung by the man's words. Jesse isn't a boy anymore.
   "Winna saw how we were playing our drums with one heart. She must have seen
   the love on our faces for each other."

      "You played really well, Mike."

      Is he trying to avoid the subject by saying that? "I've never held one
   before that day. Jesse showed me how to play a drum at his house before
   the meeting. It is a joyous thing to beat over it!"

      I'm noticing the Indian's curious stare. It has me feeling naked so I
   slip back down into the water. He joins me in the hot tub. The timer is
   restarted, sending heat over my body. It feels good.

      We're enjoying it in silence. I'm often peering at Hawk Flying Over but
   he doesn't meet my eyes. Does he think Jesse is only a boy and not able to
   love me in a mature way?

      I'm kicking my legs in the deep water. That trick I'd played on Running
   Water comes to mind so I try it on Hawk Flying Over. My butt lifts from the
   ledge. I kick faster to get my dick sticking out of the water. He laughs.
   My feet reach out for the man's knees. I manage to set them down on him.

      "Jes-ee-ah likes doing that to me," comments Hawk Flying Over.

      Running Water didn't tell me that. I've not thought about this Indian
   joining Jesse and his uncle in the hot tub. Silly, really. This is his
   house so he would have been with them lots of times.

      "I have heard some promising developments in my nephew."

      My ears perk up.

      "When Winna announced at the meeting that she considers you her son, a
   lot of us realized that you were the one responsible for helping Jesse.
   He's been acting too young for his age. We understood why. Singing Hawk
   was the first to notice the recent changes in Jesse, how he's doing much
   better at school and talking to his teachers. At Sunday's meeting, all of
   us were glad to see him join into our drumming. He played so well! You did
   too, Mike. I can't believe that you've not held a drum before. What was
   unbelievable was how the two of you were beating in perfect rhythm. It
   seemed like there was a connection between the two of you."

      I'm startled. Does Hawk Flying Over realize what he's just said? I stare
   at the Indian's face to read him when saying, "We are."

      "Mike. What you share with Jes-ee-ah is more than love."

      "Yeah." I'm deciding how much I should tell him. Then I remember his
   earlier question upon me. I'll try telling him what's going on without
   breaking my oath. "Ron had been a big help to your tribe." My abrupt
   change in subject has grabbed his attention. "He has helped return the
   remains of your ancestors and sacred objects from the hands of private
   collectors and museums. I want to help too."

      "What are you trying to tell me, Mike?"

      My eyes lower to the churning water. I've spoken too clumsily to him.

      "Oh. You are trying to find out who killed Ron!"

      I'm feeling his eyes on me but I still won't look at him.

      "Mike. I know that you're under oath. Please forgive my asking about it."

      I glance at Hawk Flying Over. In a really low voice, "That's why I'm
   hiding from the Havre Police." This man doesn't even know the half of it.
   I can't tell him about that Power Bundle we're trying to find before they
   do. To reveal that would be breaking my oath.

      "Don't worry, Mike. I'm not going to tell anyone about what's happening
   between you and Jesse or anything that you've said. I swear this."

      I'm nodding my head. My eyes peer into his. "Running Water knows. He too
   is under oath so he can't share everything with you as much as he'd like to.
   I know that the two of you are close. Him asking you to let me stay here
   was difficult because he couldn't tell you why. There's a lot more going
   on that we... can't talk about." The Indian looks hurt. "I am sorry! My
   last words weren't meant to act like I'm so big or anything."

      "Mike. I understand. You are white and all of this is strange to you.
   Isn't it?"

      Tears fill my eyes. "It's all been very scary! If not for Jes-ee-ah's
   love for me, I'd go insane." My head drops to my chest. I'm embarrassed to
   be crying in front of him.

      Something slippery brushes against my left leg. I feel the man's arm
   coming around my shoulders.

      "It's going to be alright, Mike. The tribe will stand by you. I am. Even
   though I don't know what's going on. If the tribal Elders are involved, it
   must be something big."

      I'm wiping my face, trying to act brave as a man should. I have been
   given a feather. That makes me a warrior in the eyes of my tribe. I'm
   surprised to be thinking that. The Blackfoot are my people now. I've only
   just realized that.

      Hawk Flying Over sits close at my side for a while. We're both laying
   our heads back over the ledge, enjoying the water churning around us. The
   burden to my shoulders has lessened because of this man. I'm glad that he's
   acting as my friend. His arm around me feels nice.


      I notice that the water has turned calm. The Indian beside me is not.
   He's gasping for breath. I'm half expecting him to get out of the hot tub.
   When I turn to him, there's an intense expression on his face. His tongue
   is sticking out between his lips. Then I notice the rhythmic motion to his
   left arm and the flexing of his chest muscles. A sharp thrill goes through
   my dick. He's beating off?

      I'm looking away. Not in embarrassment but so that I won't make him feel
   embarrassed. That's stupid of me. He has to know that I know what he's
   doing with himself. My cock throbs for attention. Although I can't get off
   that way, it feels good to try. I'm grabbing my erecting dick. My arm begins
   flexing. He'll realize what I'm doing from feeling that motion in his right
   hand gripping my shoulder.

      The sides of our slippery bodies press together. I slowly turn to look
   at Hawk Flying Over. His eyes are closed, mouth opened to gulp in air when
   I realize that he must be close to it. I'm surprised that he's doing this
   in front of me. He knows that I'm gay so isn't he afraid that I might try
   to jump him or something? Is he waiting for me to? I'm not.

      I'm feeling the Indian's butt surging over the ledge. It's an exciting
   sensation to feel part of his right cheek slipping against mine. His right
   hand tightens over my shoulder. I'm barely keeping myself under control. I
   have an urge to reach down for his cock to finish it off for him. How long
   is it? Will he cum in the water?

      I notice Hawk Flying Over's short hair. That makes him look more like a
   man and I'm realizing something. What he's doing is not exclusively a gay
   act. All males do it from an early age. He doesn't have a wife to satisfy
   his needs. Sly Lizard was acting as a woman by giving his butt to a group
   of horny boys. Running Water has proved to be gay as a man but I get the
   feeling that this Indian is straight. He hasn't tried to have sex with me
   even when he's so excited like he is right now.

      My hand is making my cock feel good. I'm getting very excited, barely
   controlling myself from grabbing this Indian. He would reject my advances.
   I know this. It's enough that we're sitting side by side and beating off
   together. I'm enjoying how his slippery body feels next to mine.

      Hawk Flying Over lifts his head from the ledge. He gives me an intense
   stare like he's going to eat me or something. His hand slips down along my
   right arm to my elbow. I stop handling myself out of embarrassment. I'm
   startled when his hand falls to my hip, his thumb pressing into my butt
   cheek. I'm pulled closer to him. The left side of my body lifts in the
   water slightly. I feel his right thigh under me. He's not trying to pull me
   into his lap, is he?

      The man shuts his eyes. When feeling his breaths against my shoulder, I
   notice how close his face has come to mine, turning until his right ear is
   against my neck. I'm startled when his hand wanders across my thigh. His
   fingers slip around my balls so I release my cock. Maybe he wants to handle
   it for me.

      After a long moment, I realize that this Indian isn't going to. His
   fingertips are stroking my balls. My right hand is planted over the ledge.
   I resume beating off with my left hand. I'm trying not to back my elbow
   into his stomach.

      I have to turn my head sharply to see Hawk Flying Over's face. His eyes
   are open. A startled look fills them when his head lifts from my shoulder.
   He's peering down at the water where his right hand is touching me. Then
   his mouth opens, releasing a sharp outcry. His left arm jerks violently as
   I imagine him milking his cock under the water. There's a weary expression
   of male relief coming into his eyes. He pulls his hand away from my balls
   sheepishly.

      "I didn't mean to... hold you there," whispers Hawk Flying Over. He looks
   down into the water.

      I'm smiling to show him my understanding. The Indian nods slightly,
   staring at my left arm. I resume beating off. He's waiting for me to cum.

      Instead of feeling embarrassed (because I don't think I'll be able to),
   a sense of manly pride comes to me. He has released himself as a man. I want
   to. Badly! Not so much for the thrills but to complete our act together.
   We're barely touching. But his eyes! They reach deep into me with an
   Indian's fierceness, that utter understanding of what it means to be male.
   My hand tightens around my slippery cock. I'm flexing my butt against him,
   returning his stare as if in battle with this man. I'm feeling very intense.
   When his toes press into the sole of my left foot, it feels like I've been
   shot. My mouth opens to release a sharp cry. I'm cumming! I've lost my eyes
   during that brief moment of pleasure but when sight returns, I see the
   Indian grinning sheepishly at me.

      Hawk Flying Over scoots up the ledge. I'm gasping for breath but I soon
   join him at his side. Our feet kick at the water. It's probably very spermy.
   The Indian has dropped his head over his chest. His eyes are closed. This
   gives me the chance to look over his nakedness. The wooden ledge presses
   against his butt, flattening it some. I've seen his nice curves earlier
   when we had climbed up from the platform. My eyes go to his cock. He's not
   that long but I marvel at its thickness. His rosy knob slowly withdraws
   into its dark foreskin. Below, I notice his small set of balls. They are a
   boy's small size. Is that why he couldn't give his wife a baby? I remember
   him touching mine. From envy?

      I'm looking down at myself. My cock remains hard even though I've come
   out from it. Pride fills me. That was the first time I've done that with my
   hand. Wow.

      A cold wind blows over my back. I'm starting to tremble. The rest of my
   body is burning so I don't feel like getting back into the water. Not yet.

      Hawk Flying Over releases a long sigh. "I like to do that at the end of
   my session in the hot tub. It makes me feel completely relaxed."

      I was startled by the man's bold words. I'm smiling in reply, peering
   down at the water. His eyes are felt on my dick. I look down at myself,
   seeing that it's slow to soften. His cock has become limp.

      "You're the only other white guy that I've seen," the Indian comments.

      He means naked. I flex my butt over the ledge to get my dick wiggling
   between my thighs. The man chuckles. He's still looking down at it.

      "Your knob doesn't slip back in?" he asks.

      "No. I'm cut." I realize that he's not seen that before. Ron's cock must
   of had its foreskin intact. "My mom didn't want the doctor to do that to me
   but they had her signing lots of papers while she was in labor. That's how
   I lost my foreskin." In a low voice, "It took more than a day for me to come
   out of her." I'm not sure why I've told him that.

      "I've heard that can hurt the baby," whispers Hawk Flying Over.

      I'm remembering the difficulties in my early childhood. I didn't talk
   until I was four. The doctors believed that my mother's long labor caused
   me some brain damage due to a lack of oxygen. I've suffered some handicaps
   because of it and even as an adult, I hide some of the lingering ones from
   others. Names are difficult for me to remember. I'm obsessed with counting
   things and always need to know what time it is. There are other problems
   with me too but I try not to think about them. The hardest thing I've had
   to deal with was when realizing I was gay. For a long time I'd thought that
   was because I'd been a 'damaged' baby.

      "Are you alright, Mike?"

      I feel the Indian's hand on my left shoulder. "Yeah. Sometimes I go deep
   into myself."

      "Jesse does that too."

      "Not any more." I'd whispered that and hope he didn't hear. The Indian
   looks down at my cock. He seems to be very interested in it, filling me
   with pride. Mine is nice and long.

      "You have big balls."

      Oh. That's what he's looking at. I look down at his small pair of grapes.
   I'm startled when two of his fingers press over my orbs sac. He's muttering
   something under his breath. Kind of like an Indian ritual or something. He
   then brings those two fingers to his balls. A thrills goes through me. It's
   as if he wants to endow himself with my manhood.

      Before I can ask him about it, Hawk Flying Over gets to his feet. I lead
   the way towards the ladder and after climbing to the top, fetch my thong
   necklace. It's slipped over my head. The small pouch containing the rings
   falls to my chest while the eagle's feather tickles against my back. I'm
   feeling the man's eyes on my butt. I stick it out for a moment letting him
   see my asshole if he wants.

      My face is burning when we're drying off with the towels. I glance at
   the man's cock. It's sleeping over his small sac of balls. Mine is hard.

      After taking my towel from me, Hawk Flying Over climbs down the stairs
   with me following close behind. My eyes are glued to his cute behind
   flexing with each downwards step. I try imagining how his cheeks would
   feel in my hands during a belly rub. Ah, but no. They're probably only for
   a woman to enjoy.

      We reach the platform. The Indian stretches his body while giving me a
   shy grin. He's seen my eyes falling over his nakedness. I notice that long
   scar over his left cheek. I'm running my finger across it.

      Hawk Flying Over turns to me. "Ah. I was wondering where you got that?"
   To my relief, he doesn't scold me for touching him.

      "I've earned that when I was ten years old," he explains. "Me and my
   friends were skinny dipping in the creek. Buffalo Horn had dared me to dive
   off the bank and being a dumb fuck, I did. My butt was cut on a sharp rock
   in the water. It bled a lot." He feels over his left cheek. "That injury
   has long since faded. Do you really think it's that noticeable?"

      I'm staring down at his long scar. The brown color to his skin keeps it
   from being too obvious. "No. I just like looking at butts." My face begins
   to burn after saying that.

      Hawk Flying Over slaps his cheeks with both hands. "Is mine nice?"

      Why is he asking me that? I'm still staring at it, comparing his shape
   to Running Water's ass and Jesse's (both whom I've fucked). "Yeah. It's
   real nice." Some boldness comes to me. "If you were to offer it to me like
   Sly Lizard, I'd stick into you in a heartbeat!"

      "You gay fuck!" the man shouts with a laugh. "I've never let anyone do
   that to me." The Indian rushes to protect his butt with his left hand.
   "Who is Sly Lizard?" he asks in a low voice.

      "That's what Running Water calls Creeps Over The Sand." The man's face
   turns bright red. I'm surprised that I can see him blushing with his face
   being so brown and all.

      "Running Water has told you?"

      I'm nodding my head. "A few days ago, Running Water had taken me to that
   bar in the Reservation. That small town where all you Indians hang out. When
   I was in the bathroom, Sly Lizard stood with me in front of the urinals.
   He showed me his butt and asked if I wanted to piss in it."

      "Did you?"

      "No! Just because I'm gay doesn't mean that I'll fuck any butt that's
   offered to me. Even yours."

      "He's gotten old," comments Hawk Flying Over. "You really wouldn't want
   to take mine?"

      I'm looking down at his shapely ass. It's smooth, a nice Indian brown and
   probably very tight if no one's ever fucked him before. The Indian laughs.
   For a moment, he had me going there. I punch his right arm. We both enjoy
   a good laugh together.

      "I'm not gay, Mike."

      "I know that." We're staring at each other in secret understanding. What
   we shared in the hot tub together was simple male relief. He's looking down
   at my butt.

      "Has anyone ever taken it?" the Indian whispers.

      "No." I'm surprised that he's asked that. I'm startled when the Indian
   backs himself onto me. His hands reach down for my hands and clasps them
   tightly. He rubs his butt over mine.

      "Ron showed me this ritual," explains Hawk Flying Over. "He said that in
   spite of his sexual orientation, he remained a man because no one had fucked
   him. I saw his troubled spirit."

      I'm feeling mixed emotions by what this Indian has told me and from us
   touching butts. It reminds me of what Ron had written in his diary. That
   Running Water and Jesse had rubbed their fucked butts together. Giving
   themselves to other men doesn't make them any less a man for doing that.
   Ron's poem takes on an added meaning. He may not have fully accepted that
   he'd been gay.

      "I will be giving that part of myself to Jesse." Hawk Flying Over lets
   go of my hands. He averts his eyes from me. "That doesn't make me any less
   of a man! I accept that I'm gay so there's no shame in offering my lover
   the pleasure my body can give him. Ron couldn't, with Running Water."

      "I know that," says Hawk Flying Over.

      I'm handed my clothes by the Indian but my body is feeling too hot to
   don them yet. They would make me sweat. He's pulling a shirt over his head.
   I take a last look of the man's butt before he covers it with underwear.
   I'm pulling mine up. The rest of my clothes are bundled under my left arm.
   I'm going to need to cool off before getting completely dressed.

      "Mike. I'd like us to be friends."

      The Indian offers me his right hand. I'm eagerly taking it. It's a firm
   handshake with our eyes looking strongly at each other. "You are my friend."


      I'm resting over the couch in the front room. Hawk Flying Over has the
   TV turned on but I'm not watching. I have my head laid back over the pillow,
   eyes closed. My bundle of clothes are laying at my side. He keeps his house
   really warm so there's no need to put them on yet.

      The hot tub has really relaxed me - my body. I'm preventing troubling
   thoughts from entering my head so that I can enjoy this weary feeling.

      A warmth fills my chest. From Jesse, I think. I'm preventing myself
   from Reaching out to him even though I'd like to know how the conversation
   between our grandfather and Winna is going. I listen to the TV. A way to
   distract myself from temptation. The volume is turned low. My friend has
   done that because he thinks I'm sleeping. My ears strain to hear what the
   announcer is saying. Something about a Frog Moon soon coming to an end.
   Yeah. It is nearing the end of April. He goes on to say that planting will
   be late because of the unexpected snow storm. The farmers with pointed
   hats will drop their wheat seeds in a few weeks. I'm laughing through my
   teeth. That's a funny way to describe German farmers.

      "Mike. Is it too loud?" asks Hawk Flying Over.

      "Sah." I turn my head to the Indian and chuckle. "Did you ever see Ron
   wearing a pointed hat?" He's puzzled. "Ron is German!" I'm laughing alone.
   The man doesn't get it.

      Excitement fills me. Something has made Jesse very happy so I am too!
   I'm launching myself from the coach. Hawk Flying Over is startled when I
   run towards the kitchen. My head turns back, "Jes-ee-ah is calling me!"
   My eagle's feather dances over my back.

      The phone begins to ring. I pick it up with great expectation of hearing
   good news.

      "Mike?"

      "Ah."

      "My mother is inviting you over for dinner tomorrow night. At seven."

      I'm slapping my chest with glee. Hawk Flying Over is staring at me from
   the hall archway. "I'll be there, love!" I shout into the phone. Jesse's
   voice turns very soft.

      "Call you tomorrow at one."

      "Okay!" The phone goes dead. Jesse's mom must have been standing over
   him because I barely caught the last thing he'd said. The phone is returned
   to its cradle.

      I run to Hawk Flying Over. "Winna is inviting me over for dinner tomorrow
   night!" I'm almost hugging the Indian because of my excitement. He steps
   back from me. There's a strange expression on his face.

     "Mike? Kit ai-itooh Simi?" he asks.

      I'm nodding my head even though I don't understand what he's saying. A
   chill runs down my spine. We walk back to the couch in silence. The Indian
   stares at me when I'm pulling on a shirt for warmth. I drop to the couch.

      Hawk Flying Over sits down. He's still glaring at me and I'm wondering
   why. A strange bewildered look is on his face. Isn't he happy for me that
   things may be working out for Jesse and me? The tension becomes too much.
   "Why are you looking at me that way?" The Indian lowers his gaze.

      "I didn't know that you can speak Siksika."

      I'm shaking my head. "I can't." My eyes widen when a suspicion comes to
   me. I'm looking at the television. The announcer I'd been listening to
   earlier is an Indian. He's speaking in Siksika now yet I remember hearing
   his voice and understanding...

      In a whisper, "How did you know that Jesse was going to call?"

      I'm looking down at my feet. He wouldn't believe me if I told him. The
   man's hand comes to my shoulder.

      "Tell me."

      My eyes slowly lift to Hawk Flying Over but I can't meet his eyes. I'm
   staring at his chest. "There's a Connection between Jesse and me." Okay.
   I've said it. He's not going to believe all this spooky stuff.

      "That explains your drumming at the meeting."

      I'm feeling stung. That was only a small demonstration of what we share.

      "Mike. I know of Jes-ee-ah's special ability. It will help him become a
   great shaman."

      He knows that Jesse can read a person's thoughts! I glare at the Indian.
   "How will it?" I'm being careful not to say anything revealing because he
   may not know what Winna has been trying to hide from others about her son.

      "By seeing into one's heart," the Indian explains. "Words can be clumsy
   or prevent the truth from being known. Jesse can look into a person."

      I'm sure now. He does know what my lover can do. A dam bursts in me when
   my mouth opens to tell him all about it. "It's a wondrous gift! Jesse can
   do much more than Hear thoughts. I have him deep inside me, feeling what he
   feels and knowing what he knows. We are always together because of our
   Connection! I've heard you say it in the hot tub, that what I share with
   Jesse is more than love. It's true! Our spirits are one. That's how I know
   things like what that reporter was saying on TV earlier. 'The Frog Moon is
   soon coming to an end' and 'The farmers with pointed hats will drop their
   wheat seeds in a few weeks' because I'm drawing on Jesse's ability to
   speak Siksika. The strength of our connection comes and goes. That's why I
   couldn't understand what you asked me in the kitchen even though I felt
   like I did."

      The man's hand tightens over my shoulder. I'm pulling away because of
   the pain.

      "I'm sorry, Mike. What you've just said. It had taken me by surprise."

      My body relaxes. I slump back down into the couch.

      "Your love for Jesse has made him whole."

      I'm nodding my head. "That's why he's better now. Jesse won't get sick
   again and he's doing better in school and all."

      "Does Winna know?"

      "She does now. Our grandfather came over tonight to speak with her about
   it. Jesse and me need to be together!"

      "Mike. I didn't realize that Jesse was so... able."

      I think Hawk Flying Over was going to say 'powerful'. There's awe and a
   little bit of fear seen in this Indian's face. I don't want him thinking
   that Jesse is some kind of freak. "It's not from him that we've been
   connected. Something else has done this."

      "What, Mike?"

      My lips press tight together. I'm also covering my mouth to prevent me
   from speaking.

      "You are under oath."

      I glance at Hawk Flying Over. He turns towards the television. Relief
   fills me. That had been very intense. I'm feeling tired. My head falls back
   to the pillow and I close my eyes.


      I awaken late in the night. Was someone shouting at me? There's a slight
   movement to the bed under me. Who comes? A yawn fills my mouth. I'm reaching
   over for Running Water and find his hand to clasp it. That's assuring to me.
   I close my eyes and return to sleep.


      A smile comes to my lips to be holding my brother. I've just awakened.
   His butt is pressed against my groin. That excites me, causing my dick to
   get hard in my underwear and filling me with lusty anticipation to fuck him.
   He's wearing a shirt too. I can feel it under my left hand. Was he too cold
   last night? I'll warm him up!

      My palm gently rubs over his breast. It's feels warm and his left nipple
   sticks through his shirt. Against my right hand, I feel the Indian's hair.
   I'm looking up at his head and am startled. Why has he cut his lengths off?
   Then it hits me. This is Hawk Flying Over in bed with me. But he's not gay!

      I gently pull my left arm from around him and settle onto my back. This
   makes no sense. He has his own bed to sleep in. I'm thinking back to last
   night, what may have happened but I don't remember us doing anything. I was
   relaxing on the couch. We had just talked about Jesse's connection to me.
   He turned to watch TV and I must have fallen to sleep.

      There was shouting in the night. I remember it now. From something I
   was dreaming, I think. I'd thought that Running Water had gotten into bed
   with me. I reached for his hand to hold it because of me feeling scared.
   Was that Hawk Flying Over instead?

      When I glance at my bed companion, he stretches with a yawn and turns
   onto his back. My eyes turn from him to look at the end of our blanket
   being raised up by our feet. This is an awkward situation.

      "Morning, Mike."

      I remain frozen, unable to speak.

      "Was it a really bad dream?" the Indian asks.

      I'm clearing my throat. "What do you mean?" My eyes widen with suspicion.

      "You were shouting. I rushed to your room to see what was the matter. I'd
   shaken you from your nightmare. You were thrashing over the bed, shouting
   out the number nine again and again."

      "I did?" Relief fills me because that explains why Hawk Flying Over is
   with me this morning. "Your cousin had asked you to keep an eye on me.
   Didn't he?"

      "Yes. He said that you get lost inside yourself sometimes like Jesse
   does and that it's important for me to awaken you. It happened in the hot
   tub." A pause. "Do you have a medical condition?"

      Running Water didn't tell him. "No." I remember telling him about what's
   happening to Jesse and me. Well, maybe not everything. I'll do so now.
   "There is a danger because of our Connection. When I miss Jesse too much
   and need to be with him, my... spirit Goes to him. That leaves my body
   weakened almost unto death."

      "I didn't know. You should consult with our shaman. He can help, Mike."

      "That's why your cousin couldn't tell you what was happening to me. Only
   that it does and the danger I'm in. It wasn't an oath that kept us from
   telling you. Winna is afraid of anyone finding out what her son can do.
   They would take Jesse away from all of us to study his ability." My eyes
   are pleading with him!

      "Don't worry, Mike. I'm not going to speak of this to anyone outside our
   family. We are aware of Jes-ee-ah's gift but what's been happening between
   the two of you... It was unexpected. Very special."

      I'm hoping that Hawk Flying Over also thinks that our love for each
   other is special. It is! My thoughts turn to tonight. Will Winna accept
   us being together? I feel the back of his left hand brushing against mine.

      "Go back to sleep, Mike. I'm going to get ready for work."

      "Okay. Thank you for being with me last night." The Indian squeezes my
   hand for a moment then he's getting out of bed. I don't look at him. He's
   wearing underwear so my eyes would have made a lustful seeking of his butt.
   That would have been wrong of me. I hear the door closing behind him.

      I'm turning onto my right side. His pillow is pulled over my head to
   keep out morning's harsh glare. I smell him, an Indian's hair and the
   manly scent of his sweat. He is not Running Water! I'm angry at myself for
   considering that Hawk Flying Over and I...

      A few deep breaths are taken. I don't feel sleepy, especially with my
   head filling with thoughts that are pulling in me in different directions.
   I'll be working on Ron's diary some more today. If I learn anything, Officer
   Hawk-swooping-down will be called. Jesse is going to call me today! He was
   unable to talk with me last night because his mother was likely at his side
   when he telephoned me. I'll find out what our grandfather has told her
   this afternoon. Does Winna know everything? That will make it easier for
   me tonight when I face her. Less explaining for me to do.

      A smile comes to my lips. I've made a new friend. Hawk Flying Over isn't
   interested in me because I'm gay but for myself. That gives me a warm
   feeling inside. He cares about me. A lot of these Indians have shown this
   for me and I realize that's because I am becoming a part of their tribe.
   I'm family. A smile comes to my lips.

      The air fills with the smell of cooked eggs. My stomach rumbles with
   hunger so I leap out of bed and make my way to the kitchen.

      "Are you hungry, Mike?"

      "Yeah." Hawk Flying Over breaks a few more eggs into his skillet. He
   scrambles them. A toaster pops up. They are replaced with two slices of
   bread. I get plates from the rack.

      "Can you pour me a cup of coffee, please?"

      I grab two mugs and fill them from the coffee maker. They are set on
   the table. Hawk Flying Over empties his skillet into a bowl. He gets the
   toast and sits down with me. We pray silently. I'm thanking God for His
   blessings and ask that things go well tonight with Winna.

      The Indian makes two egg sandwiches. I'm handed one. A smile comes to
   my lips. "Running Water likes having this for breakfast." The Indian nods.
   We eat in silence though our eyes often go to each other. What is he
   thinking about me? He knows that I'm gay. He isn't. And he knows that
   Jesse and me are lovers. Has he come to accept this? Running Water was
   glad because he wants his nephew to grow up into a man with my help.

      We finish our egg sandwiches and sip from our mugs. The Indian's eyes
   are on me. "What do you think about Jesse and me being together?" I ask
   in a careful voice.

      Hawk Flying Over frowns. "My cousin has warned me about you, Mike. He
   said that you think too much and asked me to forgive the awkward questions
   that you might ask me."

      I'm tightly grasping my mug. My eyes fall to my empty plate in shame.

      "You are a white guy. And young minded for your age if you don't mind
   me saying so." Hawk Flying Over takes a sip of coffee. "There is nothing
   to forgive. I understand what you are going through and it's a wonder that
   you haven't taken flight out of here."

      "I nearly did," in a whisper.

      "Hmm. My nephew must have a tight hold of your heart. Who am I to say
   if this is a bad thing between you or not?"

      "I'd like to know what you think. You're my friend." Hawk Flying Over
   releases a strong breath through his nose. Maybe I shouldn't have put him
   on the spot.

      "Jesse might be too young. I know that you're about the same age but
   he still acts like a kid. I'm not denying how you've helped him. Everyone
   has seen this change for the better. Mike. It is a difficult thing when
   one of us is gay. I've seen what my cousin has had to face by being with
   Ron. I really liked that man. He's done much good for our tribe and we
   were friends. Ron has a maturity that you lack. Are you strong enough to
   endure the hardships that you and Jesse will face? People won't understand.
   Some will be suspicious of you and hate you for taking advantage of Jesse."

      I'm filled with anger by his words. "I am not taking advantage of him!
   He has looked deep into my heart to know who I am. I've not done anything
   bad to him. Nothing evil or against his will. He wanted to have sex with me
   but I held back. I wanted for us to get to know each other better before
   that would bind us."

      "Have you been with him, Mike?"

      My anger grows. "Yeah. But I didn't take advantage of Jesse! He was
   already experienced with sex so he knew what he was doing. I nearly died
   inside when he told me who it was!"

      "What?" gasps Hawk Flying Over. "Who was it, Mike?" He shows anger.

      I'm rushing from the table to escape. I enter my bedroom and turn to
   face the door. It can't be locked. I'm grasping the knob hard. I hear
   footsteps approaching but the Indian doesn't try opening my door.

      "Mike. I'm sorry. Don't be afraid because I won't tell Running Water if
   you don't want me to. I need to know. Jesse is my nephew."

      I collapse against the door. My head bangs against it a few times when
   I think about what Ron has done with Jesse. I've read it in his diary!
   It is hard to forgive that man even when Running Water and I have said
   that we do.

      "It was Ron. Wasn't it?" Hawk Flying Over mutters on the other side of
   the bedroom door.

      "He did it... with Jesse!" Tears run down my face. My anger is replaced
   by fear. That this Indian will tell others and undo all the good Ron has
   done for the tribe. I fear most for Jesse and his mom. What they would have
   to face from their people. Such shame!

      "Does Winna know?"

      I wipe my face with my arm. The door feels wet against my head. "No.
   But Running Water does and we don't want anyone else to know about it!"

      "Mike. I swear unto our Father that I will not tell anyone about this."

      The knob turns with the door pushing against me, unable to open because
   I'm in the way.

      "Please let me in, Mike."

      I slowly get to my feet and sit over the bed. Hawk Flying Over comes in
   the room. My eyes follow the progress of his brown feet walking towards me.
   He sits down at my side. I'm waiting for the Indian to say something, to
   comfort me or to say how he's hating Ron. I'm cringing inside. I feel bad
   that the memory of his friendship with that man has been tainted.

      My eyes slowly turn to Hawk Flying Over. I'm afraid to look at his eyes.
   His left hand catches my attention, how it's squeezed into a tight ball. I
   reach for it. "Don't be mad at him. Jesse isn't. He's told me what happened
   and has gone out of his way to explain that it was only sex to teach him
   what it means to be gay. They didn't love each other."

      The Indian's brown hand relaxes inside mine. I hear him taking a few
   deep breaths.

      "Ron should not have done that with him."

      "I know. Jesse really was a kid when they... were together." I'm daring
   to look in Hawk Flying Over's eyes. "I did not take advantage of Jesse.
   We love each other so much! That's not wrong. I don't want you or Winna to
   say that it is!" My eyes are pleading with him to understand. The Indian
   takes a deep breath.

      "I don't know what to say, Mike. I'm not comfortable with what's happened
   between you and Jesse but I acknowledge it. He's only just coming out of
   his shell. If that's because of your love for him, I am glad."

      My eyes shine.

      "That connection between you two," continues Hawk Flying Over. "It is of
   Power that must have chosen the both of you for a reason. A good one. I see
   the strong love that you have for Jesse in your eyes, from your words and
   the anguish you're feeling because Winna doesn't understand." A pause.
   "I've seen my cousin's happiness by being with Ron. It's like a really
   close friendship between two men but much deeper. If my cousin has given
   you his blessings to be with Jesse, I'll accept his judgment."

      "Thank you." The man's words have soothed my troubled heart.

      Hawk Flying Over's voice is but a whisper when he speaks again. "It is
   the hope of my tribe that Jesse will be our next shaman. Winna is taking
   care of him until then. She hopes for grandchildren but realizes that might
   not happen with her son. Mike? You're an outside. To her, you are a threat.
   Both to our People's future and her son."

      I'm stung by the man's words. "If not for me, Jesse would have remained
   inside of himself. He wouldn't have been able to serve your tribe."

      "I realize that, Mike. I just wanted you to know what you're going to
   face at dinner tonight. What Winna's concerns are."

      My hand tightens around Hawk Flying Over's. "Yeah, okay. I hear you."
   The Indian gets to his feet. He's heading for the door with my eyes
   following his retreat.

      "Mike. My thoughts will be with you tonight along with my prayers."

      My door is gently closed behind him. I'm thinking over what he's said,
   the nice things along with his warning. It's all true. My breaths are
   trembling. I must endure tonight in the hope that Jesse and me can be
   together. Tears fill my eyes. I don't want Winna to hate me!


      I hear the front door closing. Hawk Flying Over is on his way to work.
   It's time for me to get to work on Ron's diary.

      After booting up my laptop, a warning message appears. It claims that
   Windows XP hadn't been shut down properly after my last session so it's
   going to check the hard drive for errors. I call that 'punishment phase'
   but it's undeserved. Oh. Maybe not. Hawk Flying Over had entered my room
   last night and I'd rushed to close MS-Word so he wouldn't see what I was
   working on. Maybe I didn't shut down my laptop properly.

      Scandisk corrects a few errors. The Windows XP desktop appears without
   a hitch. I bring up the 'Ron Earlman.doc' file in MS-Word. A quick check
   of that text finds nothing missing after scandisk reported errors. I sigh
   with relief.

      I get to work with translating Ron's diary. After connecting to the
   Internet, I turn to the pages in my zerox to find March 13th. Where is it?
   There are two entries for the 14th and after flipping back a page, I find
   March 12th that I've completed yesterday. A suspicion fills me. I'm checking
   the staple to this zerox. It hasn't been removed to my relief. That guy at
   the printing shop had used a heavy duty stapler to bind them for me. I
   don't think Officer Hawk-swooping-down has replaced it. He wouldn't have
   removed any of my pages when zeroxing a copy for Quiet-before-the-dawn.
   Right? I'm just letting my imagination get the best of me. He is a police
   officer but not a corrupt one like Lieutenant Danielson. A sigh escapes my
   lips. I've lost trust in policemen after what happened back at my trailer.

      I'm flipping through my zerox for other missing dates. The rest of March
   is intact but his entries are brief. I come to April. The 11th and 22nd are
   missing but when looking at the dated pages around those, Ron hasn't written
   very much. Perhaps there wasn't anything of note to write in his diary for
   those two days. I find a skipped date in May - the 9th. My eye catches a
   familiar name on May 10th that takes my breath away.

      I start entering sentences into the on-line German translator. They're
   quickly copied to MS-Word. When the first paragraph is completed, I read
   what's on my screen. I'm very interested in learning what Ron has written
   about Fr„ulein Thomas.

      It seems that Miss Thomas had allowed Ron to examine her Native American
   collection after threatening to serve her with a Discovery Order he could
   get from court. Such a move on his part would ruin the woman's good name
   in the art world. She invited Ron into her house that also served as a
   gallery of saleable objects. Ron was impressed by her collection, though
   much saddened. He notes that the tribes have lost many beautiful objects
   over the years.

      There are three more paragraphs for me to translate on this page. That
   woman's name is mentioned in them. After copying over the next completed
   entry to MS-Word, I read that paragraph to myself.

      Ron discovered a feathered Blackfoot ceremonial robe in Miss Thomas'
   collection. It had been hidden in a cedar chest he was admiring. It's an
   illegal thing for her to have possession of because the feathers are from
   a bird on the Federal Protection List. Only Native Americans may own eagle
   feathers. A bribe was offered Ron. He refused.

      I'm quickly translating the next paragraph.

      Miss Thomas offered something else of value to Ron - information. If he
   was willing to look the other way, she'd tell him about the illegal things
   being kept by other collectors of her acquaintance. Ron agreed. He notes in
   his diary that he'll turn her in at a later date whether or not she provides
   him with good information. That a way to go, Ron!

      The next paragraph in his diary lists names, addresses and the Native
   American objects that Miss Thomas suggests Ron should check out. I note 'x'
   marks beside three of the names: Mr. Atherton, Eli Kie and Mrs. Plainsong.

      Finally! I have something to report to Officer Hawk-swooping-down. I'm
   disconnecting from the Internet and run to the kitchen for the telephone.
   It's brought back to my bedroom and connected. I'm dialing the number he'd
   written on the back of his business card. In two rings, an Indian answers.

      "Hello?"

      "Is this Hawk-swooping-down?" I want to make sure it's him before saying
   anything more.

      "Mike? Are you alright?"

      "Yeah. I've found something interesting in the diary. Do you have
   something to write with?"

      "Hold on." After a long pause, "Go ahead."

      "Ron's handwriting is hard to make out so I went to the beginning of
   his diary to translate it. That way, I'd become used to the way he writes
   words and decipher his abbreviations. I'm up to March 12th. When Ron
   skipped a few dated entries, I skimmed ahead to see how often he'd done
   that. And before you ask, I don't think those pages were torn out from his
   diary. I believe that he didn't have anything of note to write on those
   missing days."

      "Okay. You found something important to tell me?"

      "Yes. On May 10th, Ron met Miss Thomas for the first time. He found
   something in her collection."

      "Mike. Was it the object we're looking for?"

      I notice that the Indian didn't mention it by name. He's being careful
   because we're using the phone. "No. She was hiding a feathered Blackfoot
   ceremonial robe. Those were eagle's feathers, an illegal thing for her to
   have. Ron was offered a bribe but he refused. When she offered to provide
   him with information about certain Native American objects held by other
   collectors, he agreed to keep quiet about the robe. Ron did note in his
   diary that he intended to turn her in at a later time. Her collection was
   quite impressive, Ron sadly noted, and maybe he thought there were other
   illegal objects that could be recovered from her at a later time."

      "When Ron wrote that woman's name in his diary, did he actually write
   that it was 'Miss' Thomas?"

      "Oh, yes. His exact wording was: 'Fr„ulein Thomas'. In German, that
   means she was a single woman."

      "Okay, Mike. That's good. We're getting a better idea of what was going
   on between them. Thomas is mentioned in the last pages of his diary. Have
   you translated those yet?"

      "No. Ron's handwriting is much worse on those pages and he's used lots
   of abbreviations. That's why I'm working from the beginning of his diary
   so that I'll better understand how he wrote to translate those entries.
   I know they're going to be important."

      "You're doing a great job, Mike."

      "Thanks." I'm almost forgetting! "Ah. Ron had written down some names,
   addresses and the suspected Native American objects they have in their
   collections that were provided him by Miss Thomas. That's why I had asked
   you to get ready to write something."

      "Go ahead, Mike."

      I read off that information from my laptop's screen to him, indicating
   the three names that were marked with x's.

      "I know them," answers Hawk-swooping-down. "Two of them had to surrender
   those things and pay fines. Mr. Atherton sold the Chippewa Dream Basket to
   another collector and was caught." Anger fills his voice. "It contained a
   little baby's skeleton that was exchanged between them for money! Both of
   those men are serving time in jail."

      I pause a moment to allow the Indian to recover from his angry display.
   In a low voice, "What about those other names I've read. Did they get caught
   with anything illegal in their collections?"

      "I don't recall hearing about it. Only one of those names is familiar
   to me. Mr. Reynolds oversees the Wahkpa Chu'gn Archaeological site. That
   museum has bison kill pits on display to tourists. No significant Native
   American relics were found there."

     "Ron's diary mentions a..." I'm consulting the Indian phrase on my screen,
   "... asinaa attsa'pssi ah eene." Those last two words are known to me from
   Jesse saying that he loves me. 'Ah-eene' means heart. Another thought
   strikes me. 'Ah-ee-ne' is also Ron's Indian name.

      "That is a Cree Tribe's Crazy Spirit bundle," the man explains.

      "Is it illegal for Mr. Reynolds to have it?"

      "That depends on how the bundle was obtained and what is inside of it.
   Native tribes were given authority under State Law to get suspected objects
   from collectors to be examined. If they contained human remains such as a
   finger bone, as was common, that object would be returned to us. Also if
   we could prove that it was stolen from us. Many of our sacred things were
   taken long ago and only oral history describes them. That's not acceptable
   proof in a court of law."

      "Ron mentioned that to verify a bundle's contents would violate it."

      "Yes, that so. A bundle acts as body for a spirit. Opening it is death.
   That's why we were not returned many bundles since it was thought better
   to let the collector keep it than to kill it. Some of them were persuaded
   to sell them back to us."

      I'm beginning to realize the difficulties Ron faced in having these
   precious things returned to the Indian tribes.

      "Mike. You have found some important information for me. I thank you.
   When can you have the rest of Ron's diary translated?"

      "Not for many more days." My voice turns grim. "Ron's handwriting has
   grown worse with each passing month and he's taken shortcuts with writing
   full words out. Many of his entries are personal stuff. What he did that
   day with friends, things needing to do like checking something on his car
   and mundane everyday events. I can't quickly skim through his German to
   find something important... Ah. What we're trying to learn." I'm also being
   careful not to mention that Power Bundle over the phone.

      "I understand, Mike. If you were to look for names amongst his entries,
   especially Miss Thomas, that would be quicker to find what we need to know."

      "That's a good idea. I'll do that." A question springs to mind. "Do you
   know if Miss Thomas had to surrender her feathered Blackfoot ceremonial
   robe? There may be other things in her collection that aren't legal for
   her to have."

      "No, Mike. She's a prominent collector and seller of Native American
   objects so I would remember if any trouble came her way. Ron never said
   that feathered robe to me. He worked with Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn
   mostly so he may know. I will ask him."

      "Miss Thomas should be considered a suspect in Ron's murder."

      "I agree. She had the motive to want him killed. Especially if she
   feared the discovery of other illegal objects in her collection. If we can
   tie her to... that man who came to your trailer, that would be stronger.
   But keep in mind what our shaman had said in council. We don't know for
   sure who shot Ron. He wise to say that. Let not our eyes be too keen on
   any one person least we pass over the truth."

      "Ah. Hawk-swooping-down? How do you know that a policeman had shot Ron?"
   There's a long pause on the line. Oh. I shouldn't have said it was an
   officer in case someone is listening to our conversation.

      "Mike. I cannot tell you because Ron's murder is an open case. Only
   officers involved in the investigation may know. They are Havre policemen.
   Because Ron was a member of my tribe, our legal Elder and myself know. I've
   been quietly following up on leads."

      "Okay. I understand." Disappointment fills me. At the rate he's going,
   we're never going to find out that way.

      "I heard that you've been invited over for dinner tonight."

      I've noticed his change in subject. Yet the joy bursting in me is hard
   to ignore. "Yes. I'm hoping that our grandfather has convinced her to
   allow Jesse and me to be together!"

      "Mike. Will you take some words of mine?"

      "Yeah. I welcome your advice in this matter."

      "Listen to her. Do not say too much because she's a strong woman. In her
   eyes you are barely a man. She is hurting over this thing and much worried
   for her son."

      "Okay. I'll keep my mouth shut and ears open."

      "To say so is easy, Mike. The doing is the harder. Remember that."

      "Thank you for your words. I'll take them to heart."

      "I have to go. Mike? Are you in a safe place?"

      "Yes. Run... Ah. My brother has taken me to his friend's house." I hear
   low chuckling from the officer.

      "It good that you think like the fox by not saying where you are even
   to me."

      I trust Hawk-swooping-down. Mostly. I'm relieved that he doesn't press
   me into revealing where I am. The officer hangs up after saying goodbye.

      I'm looking at the lower right part of my laptop's screen. The time is
   10:42am. Disappointment fills me. I have to wait two more hours before
   Jesse calls. What does he want to talk to me about? Probably some more
   advice about how I should act tonight with his mom. I don't mind. Just to
   hear my lover's voice! That will make me very happy.

      I disconnect the phone. My laptop is brought online so that I can
   continue translating Ron's diary. The officer's suggestion comes to mind.
   I'm scanning through all the pages for names, especially Miss Thomas. It's
   important that we find the Blackfoot Power Bundle before they do.

      A few names are found in his entries dated in July. After translating
   them, I learn that more objects were taken for examination but most were
   returned to the collectors. Ron notes that he's becoming too well known
   amongst them and he suspects illegal objects are being well hidden from
   discovery. My heart skips a beat when I find Miss Thomas' name mentioned
   in a brief entry dated August 20th. He simply states having dinner with
   her. The next page lists more names, addresses and the Native American
   things in their collections that should be investigated. Of the seven
   names, only one is marked with an 'x'.

      I quickly scan through his entries for September, October and November.
   A few more names are mentioned and those pages are translated. A long and
   arduous process. Not only is Ron's handwriting getting worse, he seems to
   be using some sort of coding that I'd originally thought were simply
   abbreviations for common German words. I don't learn anything of importance.

      I take another stab at translating Ron's last entry dated November 22nd.
   My heart sinks. I'm unable to make out anything on this page other than the
   fact that he's met with Thomas. His last words catch my eye: 'I have it!'
   Does he mean he had that Power Bundle or was given information to lead him
   to it? My dream glimpse of Ron's torn out page revealed his excitement.
   That an important Blackfoot belonging was going to be returned to them.

      Nothing that I've read so far proves Ron actually had this Power Bundle.
   What would Sherlock Holmes surmise? Oh. He didn't do that. Only facts! Okay.
   I know that Ron was looking for sacred Indian objects. Miss Thomas supplied
   him with leads about collectors who may have had illegal ones. Some were
   recovered from them. She did this so that the ones from her collection
   wouldn't be surrendered. From what I've read from his diary, she'd given
   him leads on two occasions. Ron honored his agreement with her. Officer
   Hawk-swooping-down doesn't remember this woman ever getting into trouble.

      Native American antiquities are quite valuable. To a collector, a prized
   object would be worth more than money but be a precious thing to him. If
   Ron managed to have one taken away, would that collector want him dead? I
   have the names of those whom lost objects from their collection. They are
   prime suspects in his murder. Those collectors who didn't have anything
   taken from them should also be considered suspects because they could have
   been hiding something illegal and feared eventual discovery.

      Why did a policeman shoot Ron? Officer Hawk-swooping-down knows that it
   was a cop but he refuses to tell me how he knows. He did tell me that
   certain policemen are on the pay by collectors to help them obtain
   valuable Native American objects. He suggested that Ron had been killed so
   he wouldn't talk. His diary comes to mind. Does it contain something that a
   person would kill for to keep from being known? I'll have to speak with
   Quiet-before-the-dawn. Maybe he'll tell me what Hawk-swooping-down won't.

      I think Ron's murder is still tied in with their lost Power Bundle. This
   information comes from scary sources. It cannot be dismissed simply because
   I find it hard to deal with. So many strange things have happened to me!
   Only a few weeks ago, I'd scuff at the notion of there really being ghosts
   but no more.

      Ron's ghost has been Called by Power. The shaman thinks it's by that
   Blackfoot Power Bundle. He had dreamed that it cried out to him for help.
   Jesse and I have been Connected. He said that we've been chosen. For what
   reason and towards what purpose, he doesn't know. Everything I've uncovered
   centers around that bundle. Where is it?!

      I'm massaging my aching head. My legs have fallen asleep because I
   haven't taken a break in a while. I'll do so now.

      After taking a leak in the bathroom, I go out to the backyard. The cold
   air helps clear my head. I'm eyeing the hot tub. Disappointment fills me.
   I still don't know where the controls are to heat the water up. The knob
   to get the tub churning is on top but that doesn't do any good if the water
   hasn't been heated first.

      I return to the kitchen. It wouldn't be a good idea for me to sit alone
   in the hot tub anyway. I'm remembering what happened last night when
   Feeling my connection with Jesse. If not for Hawk Flying Over pulling me
   from the water, I'd have drowned.

      I wander back to my bedroom. My legs fold before the laptop. I'm not
   feeling like getting back to work though. I'm weary of it all. No answers!
   If I were to go asleep, maybe Ron would tell me something more.

      Goose bumps form over my arms and legs. Maybe Ron did last night! I had
   a real nightmare according to Hawk Flying Over. I'm trying hard to remember
   what it was. Shouting. Someone was shouting at me and I was repeating the
   number nine over and over again. What does that mean? Nine.

      The tiny hairs lift at the back of my neck. Nein is the German word for
   'no'. I can't remember anything else about my dream. I'm left with a scary
   feeling though. One of mortal danger. Was Ron shouting at his killer?

      I'm staring at the time displayed on my laptop screen. A stab of fear
   goes through my heart! It's 12:55pm. I rush to pull the telephone line
   from my modem port without bothering to properly exit from the Internet.
   The phone is taken back to the kitchen at a run. I'm connecting it.

      I sit over the floor and wait. Jesse said that he'll call me at one.
   It becomes a long wait. I've checked the phone to make sure that the
   ringer is set to the on position and I lifted it briefly to my ear and
   heard a dial tone. Why doesn't he call?

      I'm feeling the need to go to the bathroom. The door is left open while
   I sit on the pot. After returning to the kitchen and staring down at the
   silent phone, I decide to go to my bedroom. Its door is left open. I check
   the time on my laptop's screen. It's 1:22pm. Is something wrong? Why
   doesn't Jesse call?

      I'm not feeling my sense of him. No worry or fear. Something stupid has
   probably kept Jesse from calling me - the nurse's office is locked or he
   couldn't sneak out of class. I don't even know the name of his school to
   try calling him. It's very frustrating! I'm missing him bad.

      My fingers fly over the keyboard. I'm opening that Word document me and
   Jesse had typed on that wonderful day we announced our love for each other.
   My laptop gives me an error message. I stare at my screen with horror. No!
   'The file is of an unrecognized format or it may be corrupted.' That's what
   my computer is telling me. I quickly exit MS-Word. A Hex Editor program is
   started. At the File to Open dialog box, I'm typing in: 'Our Love.doc'

      To my relief, it has found the file MS-Word refused to open. My screen
   fills with hexadecimal numbers. That's a base 16 numeric representation
   for characters. This program gives me the ability to display every byte
   contained in a computer file.

      I press a function button to convert them to alphanumeric representations
   - in other words, plain text. My heart sinks. I can see that this file has
   been corrupted. My laptop had reported errors on my hard drive at the
   beginning of today's session. Why did it have to chew on the one file in my
   computer that means the most to me?!

      I'm paging down the text. Utter relief fills me. I find what I've been
   looking for past all the character garbage.

   ___________________________________________________________________________
   Hex Editor ver 1.03       1     04-12-03  8:14  8         * OUR LOVE.DOC *
   ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
   %%.*#5            >*@@-.+2            "          >    $   9
    u#^. 2@ ##                   &+>m<,     ty&8 .     ^&        -+ 6

   )1 )2 )3  >.  ^z   3  .<   {&  0         .*

   It is snow hard outside. We are very warm inside.

   Are you afraid of the dark

   No. But back at my trailer, there is a ghost named Ron. He scares me.

   ## ^ @3 traum traum traum traum    (- y   %%   2!   -  ?>      ##
   Dein traumen Dei## 8
                        n traumen Dein ## 5>  ?traumen Dein traumen
   Sich erinnern! Sich erinnern! Si# @v
                                       ch erinnern! Sich erinnern!@   ## .0 -<

   You shouldn't be

   An Apostrophe goes between the letters n and t to make the word: shouldn't
   and end your sentences with a period.

   I love you

   I love you!

   <end>   *3#!  . ~`  l5 {- .02      ##         x0  ) ) ) )  ) . 1 2 3 4 5 6

   M i k e  Y a g e r > C : \ M y  D o c u m e n t s \ O u r  L o v e . d o c

   m e s  N e w  R o m a n    5                                    S y m b o l


   M i k e  Y a g e r
   ___________________________________________________________________________

      I realize that the file's header must have been corrupted and that's why
   MS-Word wouldn't bring it up on my screen. The most important content of
   'Our Love.doc' remains intact. Jesse and I had typed out those sentences
   together. I'm especially glad that the three words he wrote to me followed
   by my three words are there on my screen. It's our announcement of love
   for each other. Forever. I'm going to back this file up to ensure that.

      When I'm scrolling through the text again, an odd repetition of words
   catch my eyes. Three lines of them. A cold chill goes down my spine. Those
   are German words!

      'traum traum traum traum' follows what I've typed about being scared of
   Ron's ghost. The tiny hairs lift at the back of my neck. 'Traum' means
   'dream' in German. The next line repeats four sets of words: 'Dein Traumen'
   which means 'Your dream' repeated four times. God! Has Ron gotten into my
   laptop to give me a message?

      The last line of repeating German words above what Jesse had typed
   (asking me not to be scared of Ron's ghost) is unknown to me. I don't know
   what 'Sich erinnern!' means. I'm tempted to reconnect my modem to the phone
   line but doing so would prevent Jesse from calling me. I won't do that.

      I'm given a startling image of a gun being pointed at me. I shake my
   head violently to make it go away! Such fear in me! My eyes widen when I
   realize that it was something I'd seen in my dream last night.

      Breaths are rushing through my mouth. I'm afraid to think about what Ron
   has shown me. It's trapped inside my head. I... can't bring it forth since
   it's too scary! There's a struggle inside me. My body is frozen but strange
   thoughts keep running through my head. I'm closing my eyes. Denying them!

      After a while, they fade away. I look down at my trembling hands. I
   watch my right finger run across the glide pad, closing down all the active
   programs and shutting my laptop down. I'm staring at the blank screen.

      A phone is heard ringing. I'm leaping to my feet and fall flat on my
   face. My legs have fallen asleep. It's a struggle for me to get out of my
   bedroom, staggering down the hall until reaching the kitchen. I lift up on
   the sixth ring. "I'm here, Jesse!"

      "How did you know it was me?"

      That's silly. He shouldn't be asking that since I was expecting his call.
   "It had to be you. Better late than never!"

      "I couldn't get out of class," Jesse explains. "I'm waiting for my mom
   to pick me up. She's getting out of work early so that gives us some time
   to talk now."

      Jesse is done with classes for the day? I thought that wasn't until
   after four. "You're also getting out early?"

      "What do you mean? No. It's not in-service day or anything. Mike. I'm
   Feeling your confusion. What's wrong?"

      I'm searching the kitchen for a clock. One is found above the sink and
   it reads: 4:09pm. What?! I remember sitting at my laptop at 1:22pm waiting
   for Jesse to call. I'd been looking at the corrupted 'Our Love.doc' file.
   That was only a moment ago...

      Fear squeezes my heart. I remember something that sends chills down my
   spine. I'd been thinking about my scary dream last night. Ron had left words
   in my computer that I should remember it. But I couldn't!

      "Mike... Mike! What's wrong?"

      "Jesse. It was... Ron. He gave me a scary dream last night and somehow
   he left words in my laptop asking me to remember it. I... can't!"

      "Stop thinking about it, Mike! Okay? I Feel something wrong in your head
   so put it aside." A pause. "I am going to see you tonight!"

      My eyes open. I heard the joy in my lover's voice. "Yeah. I'm glad to be
   seeing you too, Jesse." The fear squeezing my heart slowly loosens its
   icy grip.

      "You'll be spending the night at my house, Mike."

      "How did you arrange that?" I don't think Winna would have agreed.

      "I asked Running Water not to pick you up afterwards. He's going to stay
   with his parents in Chinook. Some kind of 'emergency'. He'll call my mom
   later tonight to tell her."

      "Winna knows that my trailer is close by..."

      "She knows about the police, Mike. That you're in trouble. My grandfather
   told us last night. Only I know why that officer came to see you."

      "Okay. But your mom could still drive me back here to your uncle's house
   or dump me at a motel." I know she'd do that if things don't go well
   between us.

      "She wouldn't do that, Mike."

      I know why Jesse wants me over for the night. I want that too! but if
   his mom catches us together...

      "You worry too much. My mom can't stay awake all night and I don't have
   school tomorrow. She works on Saturday so even if I can't be with you
   tonight, we have all day tomorrow!"

      My dick tingles with anticipation. We've not made love since Tuesday.
   Shame fills me when I remember being with Running Water. It was more than
   just having sex together. We expressed our love for each other.

      "Mike?"

      "Yeah?" I suspect that he's Heard my thoughts about what I've done with
   his uncle so I'm quickly saying, "I want to be with you too. Not if it
   risks getting your mom more angry at me than she already is. Okay?"

      "Okay. I don't want my mom angry at you either."

      I'm waiting for Jesse to say something more. He doesn't. I need to ask
   him something. "What did our grandfather tell your mom?"

      "Oh. He told her that you're working on something really important for
   the tribe. He didn't come right out and tell her that it concerns Ron's
   murder but she already suspects it. Hawk-swooping-down's name was mentioned
   to her. We don't trust the policemen in this town. Most of them are white."

      I release a tense sigh. That's a subject I'm going to have to avoid with
   Winna if she should ask me. "Ah, Jesse? What about our Connection. Did he
   tell her about that?"

      "No."

      Disappointment fills me. If the shaman had told Winna that, she'd better
   understand why we need to be together!

      "Mike. The reason grandfather didn't was so that my mom wouldn't feel
   like she has to let us be together. That would be unfair to her. My mom
   needs to accept you being with me because of how we feel for each other.
   Our love. If she can do that, learning about our Connection afterwards will
   strengthen her acceptance. Not have been the reason to force it."

      "Okay. I think I understand. Ah, Jesse? What do you think... How should
   I act tonight with your mother?"

      "Just be yourself, Mike. Maybe don't talk too much."

      That's the same advice Hawk-swooping-down had given me.

      "Mike? You're still mad at what Ron did."

      "Yeah. I reread that page in his diary and know now that is was only a
   sick poem of his to describe a fantasy he had about you and Running Water
   being in bed with him. Fucking both your butts." I spat out those last four
   words in disgust.

      "You have to remember, Mike. That was his diary that you're reading. He
   wasn't expecting anyone to see it."

      Anger fills me. "I'm trying to find your tribe's Power Bundle. And find
   out who might have killed him."

      "I understand that but you're going to find out things that he confessed
   to his diary that no one was suppose to learn. Especially you. Not even my
   uncle should know what he wrote and they were lovers."

      The phone is shaking in my hand. I can't help but feel anger at Ron for
   what he's done to Jesse. Now, Hawk Flying Over knows too.

      "Mike. Why did you tell him!"

      Fear stabs my heart. I should have remembered that Jesse can Hear my
   thoughts, especially if they are strong. But at this distance?

      "Our connection is growing stronger. I'm Feeling you all the time even
   when you don't Come to me." A pause. "Hawk Flying Over was good friends
   with Ron. You shouldn't have told him."

      "I'm sorry! He made me angry after I'd asked him how he felt about me
   being with you. He said that I'm taking advantage of you like... he did. I
   told him that I wasn't. He's still thinking that you're only a kid, not
   able to love me in a mature way. I blurted out that you were already
   experienced with sex and that I nearly died when finding out who did that
   to you!"

      Jesse doesn't say anything for a while. "Are you mad at me?"

      "No, Mike. I was Seeing what happened. You didn't tell him it was Ron
   but he guessed that on his own."

      I'm trembling. Jesse can Look inside my head anytime he wants. I don't
   like that. I can't do that to him and it feels like a violation of my
   privacy or something.

      "Now you understand what I mean about you reading Ron's diary."

      I'm stung by Jesse's sharp lesson to me. It shows his growing maturity.
   "Yeah. Okay."

      "Mike. I know that you're feeling nervous about tonight. It's going to
   be alright. Really. We're going to see each other and I miss you!"

      "I've missed you too." I'm trying not to think about something. It's a
   source of guilt for me even though Jesse's said it was okay for me to be
   with... I clamp down on that line of thought.

      "My uncle is going to pick you up at six. Take a shower, get into your
   best clothes and put on your best behavior. You're coming over to ask my
   mother for my hand in marriage."

      "What?" I hear Jesse giggling. All the tension that's been bottled up
   in me explodes. I'm laughing with him.

      "Ah, Jesse? What should I bring your mom?"

      "What do you mean?"

      "Flowers, candy or a nice bottle of wine?"

      "Silly! You don't need to bring her a gift. She already knows how you've
   helped me, Mike. If anything, that's what's going to convince her that we
   need to be together. You aren't coming over tonight empty handed. Come with
   an open heart. Don't talk too much. Let my mom get out all her pain, worry
   and fear. Assure her that you aren't going to be taking me away from her."

      "I wouldn't do that!"

      "I know, Mike. She couldn't take losing another child."

      I'm taken back by what Jesse has said. "You have a brother or sister?
   What happened to them?"

      "No. Not a sibling. I'm talking about my mom's kid sister. Judy ran
   away from the family and we've not heard from her since. My mom took that
   very hard. She'd been taking care of Judy as if she were her own daughter."

      "Oh." I'm beginning to understand. Losing someone close and not knowing
   what's happened to them can be pretty traumatic. No wonder Winna is afraid
   that she's going to lose Jesse too.

      "Be patient with my mom. She knows that I love you very much and I've
   been trying to convince her that you didn't make me gay. And Mike. Please
   don't say anything about what Ron..."

      "I swear I won't! Hawk Flying Over promised that he won't tell anyone.
   I'm sorry that he found out. It just... happened."

      "Well, don't you dare let that happen tonight! It would only make my mom
   angrier at Running Water. He's also facing a night to be 'invited over' for
   dinner by my mom."

      I understand what Jesse means.

      "Oh. My mom is pulling into the parking lot. I'm going to have to go."

      "I love you, Jesse!" I'm sending him kisses over the phone.

      "Me too. See you tonight!"

      I hear a kiss. Then the line goes dead.

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