Dances Naked (27 page)

The chief knew he should probably offer his wife the honor but also knew that Morning Star was the better cook; he didn’t want the meat spoiled or overcooked. He handed his wife the largest cabbage and ten potatoes. S
he had made soup and baked potatoes before and he knew she could do it again. Tonight they were going to have a celebration.

Ж

The smell of baked ham pulled the men from the woods, their lumber harvesting done for the da
y. And, done for a lifetime, too,
hi
s lifetime anyway, Marty realized.

The area around the cooking fire looked extra clean. Marty saw Big Sister with her grass broom, sweeping the silty dirt and rocks into a swirling pattern. She looked up and smiled at him then bent back to her task. She wanted tonight to be perfect for Dances Naked, the man who her uncle had once said was of great use to them. Tonight he would
become much more than that—
he would officially become a member of their family.

The wives came out from their homes, carrying their babies and the eating bowls. Old Woman came from her new residence, leading her little coterie of crones to the common eating area, her familiar gnarled wood staff replaced by her ceremonial crook, the one decorated with wood
-
burned characters and topped with feathers. She stood as tall as she could, her usual snarl replaced by a gapped-tooth smile. It had been too long since they had dressed up for a celebration or had a reason for one. Her grandson wouldn’t tell her the purpose of the event
,
but she knew the time was near for Dances Naked to go home. She didn’t think her grandson was happy to see him leave, he might even be sad about it, but he was man enough to honor the crazy white man who had found a way to help feed and house them. Dances Naked wasn’t as good-looking as her husband
had been,
but he was a good provider and nice to her great-grandchildren. She’d be happy to honor him, too.

Red Shirt motioned for everyone to gather for dinner. It was time for his announcements. His words were short and his gestures easy for the white women and Marty to understand. Red Shirt placed his fist over his heart then over Marty’s, ‘You are part of me, my family,’ he said wordlessly.

“Thank you, and thanks for the hospitality,” Marty said. “And
,
if I didn’t have my other family to go back to, I’d stay with you forever.” He nodded in appreciation, sniffing back the tears that he was sure the Cherokee would see as a sign of weakness. Even if he was leaving in the morning, he didn’t want to be remembered as a lesser man.

The old women started to sit down but were stopped by a grunt from Red Shirt: he had more to say. He called Number Two to his side with a gesture and a grin. Number Two brought his wife with him and stood next to his chief, proud to be of service to the brave man who always inspired hope. Next, Red Shirt grunted to Rachel then pointed to Big Sister, indicating that he wanted her to give their son to the girl to watch.

Rachel wasn’t sure what he meant
,
but Morning Star knew that the two wives were part of the ceremony
,
and the children weren’t needed, at least for this part. “Give Big Sister your son,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Rachel said then handed him to the young girl who was already holding Baby Brother. She really wished the Indians talked more. She had a hard time trying to figure out what her husband wanted unless he told her with words.

Red Shirt looked to Number Two and flipped his head back: let’s tell them. At the same time, the two men placed their right hands over their wives wombs and smiled. The
tribe was going to grow, there were two more members to be born in less than a year.

Ж

Everyone enjoyed the perfect meal then went to bed early. The extra full bellies made them tired
,
plus Red Shirt and Marty were going to leave at sunrise. The white man
was finally going home.

Red Shirt didn’t want to go all the way to The Trees but knew that Dances Naked had no sense of direction. He had seen him get lost, or nearly so, just coming back from getting wood. But
,
maybe this time would be different. He was going to his family. The urgency of it was sure to make a difference to him.

Ж

Marty couldn’t sleep. He felt like he had just downed two pots of coffee but knew it was only the excitement of being so close to home. He lay flat on his back, wishing he had another blanket. The Young One was hot blooded and probably would rather he di
dn’t have any fire at all until winter
,
but they compromised and the fire was kept low.

Marty made sure The Young One was asleep then pulled out the little laminated photograph that James had given him before they parted ways two months ago. He leaned close to the fire and tried to see the faces in the picture. The glow was too dim
,
but it didn’t matter; he had memorized every detail and nuance down to the number of flowers on the hospital gown Bibb was wearing. He rubbed the inside righ
t seam of his vest a
nd felt it—
the ancient Greek coin. He’d need that
,
too
,
for his trip through The Trees.

Ж

Just before sunrise
,
Red Shirt came into the single men’s house and found him. Marty had finally fallen asleep, his face on the rock next to the dying coals, the phot
ograph of his family lying face up in his open hand. Red Shirt held his fiery torch
near
it, curious about what it was. He squatted down and took a close look at the shiny object. He pulled his neck back, unwilling to believe that Dances Naked had people captured in that flat piece of still water. He touched it with his finger, making sure it wasn’t ice that was holding in the little spirits, fairies that entered a man’s dreams at night and told him secrets.

Marty woke up to the smell of fire. He looked up and saw Red Shirt staring at him then back at the photo he had in his hand. What could he do? “These are my family,” he said.

Red Shirt gasped in horror: the crazy white man had his family trapped in warm ice.

“No, not my family. I mean, yes, they’re my family
,
but this is only a photograph, a representation, of them. See, that’s my, um, wife,
Bibb. She had just been beat up,
that is hit, by some very bad men. This is my youngest son, James. He’s the one who is staying with the Pomeroys now. And
,
this is Billy. I never knew he had even been born until recently. His mother, well, I just found out about him. He was, how should I say, hidden from me.” Marty
looked up and saw
he wasn’t getting anywhere with his explanation. It was too much for Red Shirt to comprehend, at least the technology of capturing a person’s essence in a photograph.

“This is what my family looks like; these are not their spirits in here. I want to go home now, okay?”

Red Shirt sighed in relief. He didn’t think that Dances Naked was a soul stealer. He had seen paintings in the city two years ago
,
but this one was smaller and of much better quality. It must be that where his friend lived, on the other side of Th
e Trees, they had smaller paint
brushes and better artists.

“Can we go now,” Marty asked. He put his picture back in the inside pocket of his vest. He didn’t mean for anyone to see it but was glad that Red Shirt was only mildly taken aback. There was a lot of trust between them. He had never had a brother
,
but now he did. And
,
now he was leaving another member of his family. But
,
Bibb and Billy needed him. And
,
he needed them.

Red Shirt led the way out of the house and away from their town, never looking back. But
,
Marty wasn’t returning. He wanted one last look at the little community he had help
ed
construct
. It was early and everyone was asleep. Or so he thought. Morning Star came out of her house, Baby Brother over her shoulder. Evidently
,
he had awakened early and a cu
p of milk wouldn’t work for him:
he wanted his Nanny Rachel.

Morning Star was an Indian by choice but a white woman by birth. She couldn’t hold back the emotions like the red man. “Oh, Marty, we’re going to miss you. I owe you everything. I mean, if it weren’t for you, Old Woman would have sent me on my way that first night. If it’s okay with my husband, I‘d like to name our first child after you, at least his middle name.”

Marty chuckled. “And
,
if you have a daughter, the middle name of Martina would be quite flattering. I’m sure you’ll make a good mother for your first
born because you’re already doing so well with your first two.” Marty gave her a big-brotherly hug then stuffed his little bedroll back under his arm. “Let’s go,” he said to Red Shirt, once again trying to hide those sneaky tears that kept popping out.

Ж

T
he two men rode all day in silence. It was Red Shirt’s nature to be quiet
,
but Marty, normally chatty even if it was only a one-sided conversation, was absorbed in his own fantasies, hopes
,
and fears, so overwhelmed by the magnitude of his thoughts, that he couldn’t find the confidence to speak.

“There,” Red Shirt said aloud, his deep voice startling Marty, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Right through there?” Marty asked, still stunned by hearing his red brother speak.

Red Shirt frowned at him: don’t make me speak again. But
,
the crazy white man’s obvious fear and uncertainty overrode Red Shirt’s personal indignation about verbalizing. “When you wake in the morning, walk away from the sunrise.”

“Go west?” Marty asked as he pointed to the sunset, “and you’ll take the mare back with you?”

Red Shirt nodded but said no more. He had given simple directions that even a child could follow.

“Why didn’t you speak before?” Marty asked.

Red Shirt shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t want to tell him that he only had so many words to share
,
and he wanted to save them in case his new brother changed his mind and decided to return to live with him and his tribe instead of going through the Bad Medicine Trees. He cared for the man both
like
a brother and an uncle
,
and hoped he would stay
,
but it was doubtful he could be swayed. Deep down
,
he knew Dances Naked would spend his last breath, if necessary, trying to get back to his family. He knew he would
,
too
,
if their places were switched. It had only been two days since they l
eft their home
,
but he already missed his family more than he thought possible. He even missed his ornery old grandmother.

Ж

Red Shirt arose just before daylight, leaving Dances Naked asleep near the fire, the smile on the old man’s face showing he was at
peace with his decision to go home. The Indian chief pulled out a parting gift for his new brother, a thick slab of ham for breakfast. If it hadn’t been for the white man’s shrewd bartering, he wouldn’t have it to share. He didn’t want to wake him
,
so left the meat wrapped in the cotton fabric,
torn from
his sister-in-law’s
former
petticoat,
providing
a scent barrier to the sweet, salty smell of the cured pork. He got on his horse and
rode
away,
atop
the mare that was the first gift Dances Naked had given him. He scratched his balls, the coarseness of the cotton cloth of his pants, Dances Naked’s second gift to him, still an irritant at times to his man parts. The man was generous, faithful
,
and funny. He sure hoped his wife and child cared for him as much as his other family, his Indian family, did.

Ж

Marty awoke to the smell of ham. At first
,
he thought it was a dream
,
and
then he saw it. Flies were attracted to the faint smell and were landing on the white, cotton covered parcel two feet away, trying to extract sustenance from it. “Get away from tha
t,” Marty said as he shooed his hand over the package, “that’s my breakfast!”

He looked up and saw he was alone. The sun was just peeking over the horizon; that way was east. Red Shirt had told him
h
e was to travel away from the sunrise. “I’m on my way, family,” he crowed, startling the birds that had gathered in the nearby bushes. “I’ll stop for breakfast later.”

Marty set a quick pace. The clouds were coming in and he knew he was directionally challenged. He spotted a clump of trees off in the distance then traveled to it. He repeated the process until his rumbling tummy and weak knees told him that it was time to eat. “Good enough spot for an early lunch,” he commented to the spreading tree. He kicked away the larger stones and used the side of his well-worn boot to smooth a seat for himself. “Not this time,” he said as he drew a long arrow in the dusty soil, indicating the direction he was to travel when he was done with his meal.