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* "NEW TO LOVE" *
* (part 7) *
* by Vince Water 5/03 *
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| 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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