Wind Wolf Woman
by
Mahinto
Excerpts from Chapters
Chapter 1 - Sunbeam's Arrival

Around midnight in late September 1935, darkness cloaked a Montana reservation as Cheering Woman, a Dakota Sioux medicine woman, awakened in confident anticipation, knowing that her son’s firstborn was a girl. She dressed her tall, statuesque body warmly, then quickly brushed and braided her long salt-and-pepper hair, twisting and winding it into a crown on top of her head to frame her proud, finely chiseled features. Although in her late seventies, she still retained her youthful agility and glowed with the spirit of life.

Cheering Woman got into her old truck and drove to her son’s home. When she arrived, she found Sam slumped over the kitchen table with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, while from the bedroom she heard the cries of a healthy newborn. Cheering Woman’s penetrating black eyes took in her son’s abject misery with a single glance. It was obvious that his manly pride had been wounded by the birth of a girl child. Sam, unable to ignore her any longer, looked up and said in a quiet monotone, “It’s a girl. Found her on the front porch in a basket.”

He handed his mother an envelope, adding, “This was pinned to her blanket. It’s addressed to you.” Cheering Woman quietly read its contents, then placed it into a leather pouch that hung from her waist.

She touched Sam’s hand comfortingly and said, “Be happy my son, Wakan Tanka has given you a healthy child. It hurts me to see you deny your own flesh.” Head bowed, he offered no response, yet his silence spoke loudly.

Cheering Woman studied him for a moment. As a child, he had been sensitive and gentle, but there had always been a wild streak hidden deep within him that could never be completely contained. The tall, muscular man now sitting before her still retained that intense, animalistic wildness. Many would call him handsome with his cool gray eyes and shiny black hair worn in waist-length braids. Yes, she thought, this son of mine can be very charming when he has a mind to please, but he is fiery tempered, unruly and sullen when he doesn’t get his way.

“Sam, I have many fond memories of you and Anna, this child’s mother, whom I love like my own. You have known each other since you were babies learning to walk and run together. How I loved watching the two of you explore life. It was Anna who brought this excitement to you. I remember how happy you were when you’d both run through the open fields in summer looking for abandoned baby animals to raise. By the time you were eleven anyone could see you were meant for each other.

“You were barely seventeen when I warned you not to have sex before marriage. I remember telling you then that your first child would be a girl, born to a mission. When Anna got pregnant and you two sneaked off for an abortion, she almost died, so I promised that if she kept the baby, I would raise it. I know it broke your heart when her family moved away. I also know you will always love Anna, and she will always love you. But now you are married to another. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and accept this baby’s existence. As Wolf Clan, I promised to raise this special born child in the old medicine way. I will guide her toward her birth purpose and awaken her powers before she reaches womanhood. Sam, proof of the undying love between you and Anna lives on in this baby girl.”

Sam’s eyes stung with unshed tears as he recalled his beloved Anna. He silently acknowledged his mother’s words, but offered no response.

Impatient to see her granddaughter, Cheering Woman took Sam’s arm and steered him to the makeshift crib. Leaning over the newborn, she picked it up with gentle hands, saying a silent prayer as she lay claim to her granddaughter’s soul.

Cheering Woman walked to the window, moved the torn shade aside and let the morning sun gently touch her granddaughter’s radiant skin.

“She is as beautiful as first light, just before daybreak. What are we going to name her?”

“Does it matter? It’s just a girl.”

Showing her annoyance at his pigheaded ways, Cheering Woman snapped, “Stop it! You know we must call her something!”

Sam’s wife, Hazel, overheard Cheering Woman and entered the bedroom. Sam looked at Hazel, then muttered, “Me and Hazel haven’t talked about a name. I thought maybe you would like to name her.”

Intimidated by Cheering Woman’s presence, Hazel stammered, “I thought since her mother was half white, maybe we should give her a white name.”

Cheering Woman bristled. “My son, speak to your woman! This is none of her business. This child is your Indian daughter who shares in your birthright. So what if she’s a mixed blood! She’s not white! Besides, since neither you nor Anna wanted this child, and since I’m responsible for raising her, I will name her!”

Seeing that her harsh words were causing defiance in her son, she redirected her conversation to the baby.

“You’re going to need a powerful name. Since you rode the moon’s rays into life, and Father Sun touched your body this morning, you should carry a name that reflects those powers.” Staring coldly at Hazel and Sam, she continued, “Because of your attitudes toward a mixed-breed female, she is already suffering from prejudice and rejection. Humor this old woman. I will take the child with me and teach her to walk in both worlds without suffering. In my time I have seen many changes take place between the Indian and the white man. I will train her to walk to serve both cultures in the medicine way.”

“Hazel,” said Sam, in a superior tone, “Mother is right! This is my child, so I’ll name her.” Leaning close, he pulled the blanket aside, gazed at the baby’s little face, then softly touched her tiny chin with the back of his hand. “You may be a girl, but I’ll make you a boy. I’ll call you Sonny. Yep, that’s what I’ll call you, Sonny!”

Used to his stubborn, mulish ways, Cheering Woman smiled sweetly and then, exercising her refined ability to manipulate him, answered, “Hmm, that’s good, son. I think Ezonzon Wi Cha Nah He, Sunlit Soul, is strong and keeps with our tradition.” Looking down at the infant, she continued, “Yes, Grandchild, that is your name, but we will call you ‘Sunny’ to please your father and ‘Sunbeam’ to please Father Sun. May you become as bright as the dawn of a new day, and make your presence upon Mother Earth shine with the strength of your Father, the Sun.”

Sam’s expression remained stoic, but inside he swelled with admiration and pride at the strong name his daughter had been given.

“Sam, my son, I give you your daughter, Sunbeam,” announced Cheering Woman as she placed the baby in his arms.

Sam stiffened with resentment as he stared into the tiny face. The baby gazed back, challenging him with unflinching gray-green eyes reminiscent of deep pools filled with hidden crystals. Acknowledging his daughter at last, he smiled and accepted the inevitable. His mother, after all, had chosen the child’s direction in life before she’d been born.

Cheering Woman knew she had won another battle with her son, and leaned close to him, whispering, “This child is strong, like you. And that is good. I assure you she will walk with the old knowledge and think like an Indian.”

Cheering Woman gathered up her new granddaughter and returned home, where she immediately prepared a sweat. Thus began Sunbeam’s training in medicine.

Throughout early childhood, Sunbeam was isolated from outside influences, and by the age of seven she was well-steeped in the old ways. She was a small-framed child with long, dark hair that flowed down her back. At times her penetrating, expressive eyes held an extraordinary gaze. At others times, hidden behind wispy, disheveled bangs, they flashed with devilish mischief.

Strangers were often amazed at her spirited, animal-like independence. Some thought her a bit too arrogant, particularly those who saw her as another illegitimate half-breed. Others suspected that despite her mixed blood, Sunbeam could hear more than what was spoken. Cheering Woman, who knew her best, saw her granddaughter as a mild-mannered, shy little Indian girl who felt awkward in the presence of others and preferred to spend time alone in the serenity of the apple orchard behind the arbor.

One day when all the chores were completed, Cheering Woman called seven-year-old Sunbeam aside. “Grandchild, for years I’ve been training you to find lost objects. It’s now time to honor the spiritual warrioress that sleeps within your soul.”

Sunbeam frowned. She hated this game her grandmother called hide-and-seek. But knowing her determination, she gave in quietly, expressing her aggravation with a deep sigh.

“You stop that! No more fighting with me over this game! You’re going to work harder at it. A lonely object has been waiting for almost three days to be found. If you fail today, you will see a night without supper. Now once again, close your eyes, still your mind, and feel the object’s presence. Where is it? What is its color? What is its shape?”

After an hour of concentrated effort and more badgering from Cheering Woman, Sunbeam still had no answers.

Cheering Woman, frustrated by her granddaughter’s lack of interest, scolded, “Your head is more than a hat rack. Anybody can do this! It’s your lazy, scattered mind that gets in the way. But don’t worry, Granddaughter, I know exactly how to fix the problem. I’m sure that if you go to bed on an empty stomach and get a good night’s sleep you’ll concentrate better tomorrow. By daybreak you will surely have the answer.”

Sunbeam, knowing there was no hope of changing her grandmother’s mind, moped around the house until early evening.

“Time for bed,” announced Cheering Woman, in a spirited mood.

Sunbeam sulked off to the feather bed they shared, dramatically clutching her growling stomach, knowing that if she didn’t have the answer by the following morning, her Grandmother would add another day without food to her training. As she climbed in, she recalled the words she had heard many times before: “Granddaughter, fasting is good for the soul. It makes you pay attention.”

Sunbeam tossed and turned, listening to the old people who had gathered on the front porch to eat and gossip about the day’s events, before finally falling asleep.

It was still dark when Sunbeam awakened. Her dreams had told her what the lonely object was! Climbing out of bed quietly, so as not to awaken her grandmother, she went to the hook where her grandmother’s traveling pouch always hung. She took it down and pulled out a river stone they had found on their last outing. There it was, smooth and white, just as she had seen in her dreams. A broad smile crossed her face as she placed the stone beside her grandmother’s pillow. Her work done, she climbed back into bed and fell asleep.

“Get out of bed, Granddaughter,” Cheering Woman threw back the covers and tugged playfully at Sunbeam’s exposed foot. She waved the stone in front of Sunbeam’s face in a congratulatory manner. “I see you have finally found the lost object. Hurry, Grandchild!” scolded Cheering Woman playfully. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Sunbeam sighed with relief and gave silent thanks to Wakan Tanka for helping her find the hidden object. She leapt up and confidently followed her grandmother to the sweet smells of the kitchen. Soon she was wolfing down her fry bread and scrambled eggs while Cheering Woman sipped her coffee smiling with pride.

Cheering Woman knew she had finally attracted her granddaughter’s full attention. “It takes patience to learn concentration. You must focus and have a clear thought in mind. When I am no longer on this earth, you will be glad you listened to me, just as I am thankful that I listened to my grandmother.”

After many more months of exposure to Cheering Woman’s diligent efforts, Sunbeam became exceptionally good at hide-and-seek and came to love the game. Not only was she refining her ability to find lost articles, but she was also learning how to find missing people.

Cheering Woman had finally decided that the best way to teach her granddaughter was through suspense and mystery—methods that seemed to keep the child’s mind stimulated. “Grandchild, always be aware of what is around you,” she would say. “Use your imagination to explore the mysteries that are hidden from you. Search inside for answers to your questions. Learn to recognize the difference between what you see and what you think you see.”

As time went on Cheering Woman noticed a quiet defiance and an air of arrogance taking root in Sunbeam which was intolerable in the Sioux culture. To stop its growth, she used a firm hand, tempered with love; but controls of this sort only sparked outward rebellion.

Determined to cure this terrible disease that had infected her granddaughter’s mind, the old medicine woman began to discipline her with fear, guilt and bribery, sometimes forcing her out of bed long before sunrise and engaging her in a lesson that lasted until long after dark.

The battle of wills continued for weeks until early one morning when Cheering Woman threw off Sunbeam’s covers, yelling, “Get out of that bed! You’re going to smell like an old bear! How can Father Sun spread his light and warmth across the earth if you don’t get up to greet him? Hurry, Grandchild!” Cheering Woman glared in mock disgust before leaving the room.

Struggling to wake up, Sunbeam made her way to the kitchen and picked at her breakfast. Cheering Woman quietly sipped her coffee while waiting for her granddaughter’s eyes to fully open.

“Sku'ya, Sweet, last night you were crying out in your sleep. Tell me about this visit to Shadow World.”

Shivering in fear, Sunbeam struggled to recall her frightening dream. “I was somewhere terrible. I went to the Valley of Death, and it was dark and cold. Crying spirits with ugly faces were hanging from gnarled, dead trees. They reached out and tried to touch me.”

“Uh-huh,” acknowledged Cheering Woman as she nodded her head, her eyes half-closed.

Sunbeam waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

When she had nearly lost her patience, Cheering Woman said:

“Your vision seems to hold many fears. The spirits hanging from dead trees were earth-bound souls begging you to release them to the Other Side. When their pained faces scared you, it meant that those lost souls trusted you to take them to the light. They moaned and screamed because you were ignoring their needs. Those poor souls live in a twilight time, and it is you who must help them gain their spiritual freedom.”

Sunbeam shuddered at the thought of helping ghosts, but she knew if she did not do as her grandmother instructed, those horrible faces would haunt her forever.

“A visit to Shadow World is considered a rare gift to be treated with great respect. Accidental visits to all sorts of places happen in the dream state if you do not focus on where you are going. You are responsible for this newfound knowledge. I have taught you to go to the Other Side and listen to your inner voice, but last night you acted out of fear, creating confusion. Tonight you must return and complete your mission. That is the only way to free yourself from the haunting faces of those lost souls.

“Granddaughter, you know that everything has a meaning, and your responsibility is to find that meaning. You also know you must accept the unknown when you visit Shadow World. I’ve told you that whatever you fear will materialize before you. Why place judgment and limitations on your thinking? Everything simply is.

“To find out the time of day, you must read shadows cast by the sun. To understand the nighttime, watch the light of the moon and the position of the stars in the heavens. Remember how we watched the birds, the animals, and the growing plants to learn the power of the seasons? Once you understand the signs of nature, you will be able to glimpse the reality behind the unknown and the unspoken. That is why I taught you to go to Shadow World.”

Tired and still sleepy, Sunbeam could barely pay attention.

Cheering Woman, having surrendered her patience, rose from her chair. “My word, Granddaughter, do you think this is all I have to do in life? Many apprentices want to learn what I have to teach! You need me, Granddaughter. I don’t need you! I will never play nursemaid to a slow, dull mind!”

Without warning, Cheering Woman slammed her fist on the table, knocking the dishes to the floor. “As Medicine, I demand your undivided attention! You will bring your mind into focus.” She sat back down and glared intently at her granddaughter.

Sunbeam was shocked. Never before had she seen her grandmother’s wrath or been the target of such temper. Not knowing how to respond to this terrible outburst, she kept her eyes glued to the floor and whimpered an apology for having taken advantage of her grandmother.

“Well, I like sharing with people who understand the importance of my teachings, and if you need cruelty to learn, then so be it. I have made a vow and I will fulfill it! I want you to know how to read the unwritten and hear the unspoken, whether it comes from the past, present, or future. Humph! Right now your unspoken fears are talking so loudly I might lose my hearing.”

Sunbeam picked up the broken dishes and began to cry.

“Oh Grandmother, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. I promise I’ll listen.”

“Go to the Grandmother Lodge and do not return until you have released those captured souls from the Valley of Death.”

Still shaken, Sunbeam rushed out the back door and ran all the way to the Grandmother Lodge. It was around noon when she returned and smiled when she spotted her grandmother in the garden.

Cheering Woman looked up and said, “I see you have done well. I’m proud that you released those poor souls so they can go back home to Tunka'shila. Come, let’s spend the rest of the day in the woods. We have medicines to gather and berries to pick.”

Chapter 2
Quest of a Spiritual Warrioress

Sunbeam sat under the tallest apple tree in the orchard, her thoughts drifting toward Cheering Woman, who as always was sitting beneath the pine arbor teaching yet another group of students. For years Sunbeam had resented not only her city cousins, but people from all walks of life who returned to the reservation to learn the old traditional ways. She thought it strange that they were thrilled to be living in tents under the starry skies, cooking over open fires and bathing in cold river water. Most of the time she hated Cheering woman’s apprentice, Shung', and her bossy ways, but was glad it was her job to take care of these intruders.

For as long as she could remember, Sunbeam had watched people come and go, slipping back and forth between the Red and white cultures. Just the thought seemed to leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

The first thing every morning, they would clamor out of their tents to fill the Inipis, sweat lodges. There they would pray awkwardly, searching for their roots. Seeing them hunger for this knowledge made Sunbeam realize that even at the tender age of ten, she was indeed an old spirit and wise for her years. At these times, she was thankful her grandmother had given up so much to prod, shape and mold her spiritual walk. I need to remember, she thought, to lift my hands in prayer up to Wakan Tanka for my grandmother’s rigid training.

Although many people considered Cheering Woman a saint, others thought her a demon from hell. She was amused by their contrasting perceptions and aware that all respected her. Sunbeam took great comfort in knowing her grandmother walked her talk and held a place of honor among all the people. She was proud to be the granddaughter of such a powerful medicine woman.

Propelled by her thoughts, Sunbeam got up and headed for the arbor. As she drew near, she heard her grandmother’s familiar words. “Creation is ongoing, and Wakan Tanka lives in everything. Everyone is born to serve and honor Tunka'shila’s work. This is how we please the Great Spirit. And in serving the Great Mystery, we serve ourselves, for it is Creator who teaches us to live properly. This is what leads us to our spiritual happiness.”

Cheering Woman spotted her granddaughter, stood up and stepped aside, leaving Shung' to complete the lesson.

“Hurry, Sunbeam, come,” Cheering Woman said eagerly. “There is much work to be done before my cherished friend Madame Bianchoff arrives. Do you want your soul to die of boredom, young lady? Remember, idle hands make for a lazy mind and a grumpy soul. There’s wood to chop, fires to build, medicines to prepare, sage to gather and water to haul for the Yuwipi ceremony tonight.”

The lesson finished, Shung' approached them, whereupon Cheering Woman handed her a shopping list, saying, “Shung', hurry along to the store and take someone with you to help. I’ll need you back here as soon as possible to take over my teaching duties. Madame Bianchoff should be here by early afternoon and I want to be free to spend some time with my dear friend. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her and I want her visit to be special.”

As Shung' turned to go, Cheering Woman flashed back ten years to the day when her half sister had come to live with her and help care for the infant Sunbeam. She remembered Shung' as a timid, overweight little girl who was hoping to someday become a medicine woman. Now at twenty, she was a strong, well-spoken young woman, and Cheering Woman was proud to call her an apprentice to Medicine.

Meanwhile Madame Bianchoff, a Russian ballet instructor, was driving across the western plains about four hours away from Cheering Woman’s home. A smile crossed her face as she remembered when they had first met in Los Angeles during a fund-raising event to gather food and clothing for the poor on the reservation. How many boxes had she packed since then to send to that determined Indian woman who was one of her best friends? What an effort it had been to convince Cheering Woman to take a drive to see the ocean for the first time. Laughing out loud, she recalled how her friend had compared the ocean waves with the rolling wheat fields at home.

As she turned onto a one-lane road, she became immediately intoxicated, for the view was exactly as she remembered when youth had belonged to them. Father Sky still appeared to be touching the edges of Mother Earth’s body and the wheat fields still rolled like ocean waves. Madame was anxious to share these rapturous thoughts with her old friend.

Sunbeam, having finished her morning chores, was bathing in the river. Cheering Woman stood on the riverbank shouting, “A dip in Father River awakens the mind and stimulates the soul. Now, get out of the water. It’s important for you to spend time with Otis. He’s been with me for many years, and is the best of Fire Chiefs. I want you to learn from him the sacredness in tending a fire.”

Sunbeam emerged from the water, and after dressing, followed her grandmother to where Otis Lightday was building a new Inipi. As they approached the tall, thin elder, he acknowledged their presence with a nod.

Sunbeam remained at a respectful distance, drying her hair in the sun as the two conversed privately. Cheering Woman said quietly, “Have patience with her, my old friend. You know she is special born. I want her to find the heartbeat of everything. Please see that she makes peace with the fire people.” With these words, she departed.

Otis motioned for Sunbeam to join him. She watched quietly as he drove a stake into the ground to establish the center of the fire lodge. Stepping back two feet, he drew a circle as a guide for building the rock cradle that would hold the Stone People. Moving out ten more feet, he made another circle to establish the outer wall of the Inipi. Once everything was in place, Sunbeam handed him the freshly cut willow branches which he shaped into an intricate perfectly round domed structure that would join the above and below powers as one.

Sunbeam helped him cover the frame with blankets and buffalo hides. Once finished, he lit a cigarette and stood back to admire a job well done. Clearing his throat, he spoke to Sunbeam in his limited English:

“To live a good life, you must have faith and build power in your beliefs. This comes when we keep good thoughts about others. Sku'ya, everything is related and you must respect all life forces if you are to become a part of the Great Mystery. When you give respect to everything as if it were a relative, you then can understand the power of Tunka'shila, Grandfather, the oldest of ancient knowledge.

“We see the trees to be a nation of people. Because these standing ones are alive, we cut them in a certain way. It is said they are Lela Wakan, very sacred, and that long ago the people would hear their whispering voices in prayer songs. When their wood is stacked in a reverent manner, we make a happy fire.”

Moving about fifteen feet from the West Door of the new Inipi, Otis started to build the Old Man Four Generations fire pit. “We do these things, Sku'ya, because our forefathers taught us to take great care and offer respect while touching another’s life. In doing so, we honor the ways of our ancestors.”

As his old, wrinkled brown hands worked the small earthen mound that was to become the molehill, Otis spoke of how proper preparation and good prayers must come from a good heart. Sunbeam knelt beside him, watching him shape and mold the four horns of Old Man Four Generations. “These represent the past four generations of our people and the four generations to come. If we shape the horns in a good way, surely Wakan Tanka will hear our prayers and help all the children’s children who are yet to come. Old Man Four Generations holds the sacred fire to heat the stones.”

At this point, he set four short pieces of wood into a square foundation over the face of Old Man Four Generations. Handing him more wood, Sunbeam watched him stack the pieces west to east, then north to south, until they were four high. On top, Otis carefully placed the stones he had selected for the upcoming sweat. Using several longer pieces of wood, he arranged them in a tipi formation around the structure, saying, “Remember, everything is Lela Wakan,” as he stretched his arms wide to emphasize his point. “A good Fire Chief must do everything with a pure heart. A sacred fire will help the people speak the truth of their needs.

“We are the keepers of the fire, and must depend on the old ways if we are to carry the little fire of the sun that exists in each stone. In our sweats we join with the sacred little fire and connect with the forever fire of Creator. If we do our ceremonies from a loving heart, the fire people will give us their blessings.” Otis placed tinder amid bits of kindling in the little opening to create a perfect flame.

“Sunbeam,” he continued, “a happy fire needs to breathe plenty of good air before it can speak to us. Sadly, there are many who have never heard the sweet voice of a flame. When ignorance builds a fire, it becomes angry and gives off lots of smoke, sometimes breaking the stones. I have seen some fires so angry that they heave hot coals at people. A fire with order won’t have a quarrelsome nature. It will burn in a peaceful manner, heating the stones to heal the people.

“It is the spirit of the fiery-tempered salamander that calls the fire to help us. These little people are very impatient with humans and will not speak to us unless we come right. A match cannot strike, and a flint cannot make sparks without Salamander’s help."

Otis lit the tinder, providing just enough friction to send forth a soft, gentle flame. “Sku'ya,” he said with great seriousness, “when you touch the life of fire, never anger its spirit or it will surely cause trouble in the Inipi.”

Otis and Sunbeam watched the flames build their power, all the while looking for the little people in the fire. Within moments, Sunbeam excitedly pointed at the many tiny people that she could see dancing and slithering among the hot coals. Otis lifted the corner of his mouth in a knowing smile.

When the last of the stones had fallen into the glowing embers, Otis said, “Go tell Medicine the Stone People are almost ready. I hear you’ll be sweating with the elders today. That is a very special gift.”

Stunned, Sunbeam ran off to deliver the message to her grandmother. Upon reaching the arbor, she found Cheering Woman telling an old Indian story:

“The Stone People are our earliest record keepers…Long ago, in the time of the longhairs, the earth was dotted with boulders that had been painted red by the ancient ones. Knowing of the boulders’ special powers, they hid pieces of their hair around these stones as offerings. Others offered wildflowers or small pebbles at their bases to invite the Great Spirit to speak directly to them. Even children would place small prayer stones in the lower forks of nearby trees so the spirit helpers would also speak with them.

“As you enter the Inipi, think of all these things. Let the sweat heal your body, mind and soul. Let the Stone People guide your breath as you humble yourself before Wakan Tanka. Pray from your heart and speak freely about your problems. When the sacred waters touch the stones to become Tunka'shila’s breath, release your fears and let your breath join with these life-givers to inspire your growth. Ask the Great Spirit to help you during your upcoming Hanblecheyapi. After all, it is Wakan Tanka who will fulfill all your needs.”

Cheering Woman dismissed the group and acknowledged Sunbeam’s arrival with a nod. She noticed the worried look on her face and approached her, asking, “Granddaughter, what’s wrong?”

“Otis told me that I might be sweating with the elders today. That scares me because they have such long, hot sweats.”

“Why, Granddaughter, there’s no reason to fret. Maybe they won’t have that much to pray for today.” Cheering Woman chuckled as she put her arm around Sunbeam, and together they walked to the new Inipi.

Chapter 3
Sunbeam Leaves the Reservation

Sunbeam was overcome by waves of terror when Otis and Shung' dropped her off at the bus station to go live with Auntie Rose in the rural area of Red Bank, Tennessee. This small, forlorn figure sat alone on an old wooden bench, feeling extremely downhearted over being forced to leave the reservation. When the bus roared to a stop, raising a cloud of dust in its wake, her hands began fidgeting with her Rope of Hope that was tied around her grandmother’s old suitcase.

The driver opened the door and called out, “All aboard.”

Sunbeam boarded the bus and shyly handed him her ticket. She found a seat and tucked her suitcase under it as the bus pulled away from the station. She sat tightly pressed against the window staring out at the place she had always called home, knowing that she would surely miss the reservation way of life.

Sadness gripped her heart as the bus passed the reservation border and turned onto the open road. How would she ever survive in this strange new place without her grandmother’s support and protection? The reservation represented all she knew, loved and respected. Without this connection, how would she exist in her new environment?

She thought about spring and felt a desperate loneliness. She would miss seeing the young, budding trees and the beautiful yellow sunflowers dancing tirelessly across the plains. All the seasons would come and go without her presence.

And what about living near Sam? As these thoughts surfaced, Sunbeam’s sorrow turned to fear. Tears welled up in her eyes and she immediately prayed to Wakan Tanka to guide her through the frightening transition into the white world.

On the second day of her trip Sunbeam awakened to find the landscape had changed dramatically from rolling hills of swaying grass into fields of barley and hay. She knew nothing about this new world and marveled at its vastness. As the sun went over down and darkness cloaked the sky, Sunbeam curled up in her seat and closed her eyes. The drone of the tires racing over the pavement soothed her enough so that she could finally drift off to sleep.

As the huge bus jolted to a stop, Sunbeam awakened to see the bright sun shining over a small Midwestern town. This was the third day of traveling and the food that Shung' had packed was gone. She got off the bus to wash up and use the restroom. On her return her eyes glanced longingly at the snack bar.

The bus driver knew that look and understood the plight of reservation people. He bought a soda and a couple of sandwiches then quietly handed them to Sunbeam as she boarded the bus. She thanked him and returned to her seat, feeling grateful that someone cared enough to feed her. She ate sparingly as she stared out the window marveling at the tall buildings and the ever-increasing patches of concrete spreading before them.

When the driver informed her she would be getting off at the next stop, she was grateful that the trip was over. As she clutched her bag tightly to her side she was herded through a noisy corridor and onto a busy sidewalk. The heat and humidity blasted her face and the heavy air was hard to breathe. Sunbeam pressed her body tightly against the building trying to understand the noisy traffic and sea of angry white faces who spoke with a funny accent.

When she saw Sam’s truck pull up to the curb, she felt immense relief and ran toward him. She threw her bag into the back of the truck and climbed in beside him.

“Hey, Sunny. I know I’m fucking late, but this goddamn morning traffic is heavy.”

She watched in amusement as Sam cut in and out of traffic like a madman, cursing every driver on the street. Sunny was fascinated by the tall buildings. She leaned out the window and peered upward for a better view until she grew dizzy at their towering height. She was glad when they left the city behind for the green countryside. As the city gave way to country, she was amazed at the many houses surrounded by well-manicured yards and white picket fences.

“How come they got so many fences?” Sunny asked timidly.

“Hell, who cares. The fences mean keep out. White people think they own the land.”

“The reservation never had fences.”

As they ventured further into the countryside, well-groomed cornfields dotted the landscape as far as she could see. This graceful panorama revealed a different kind of beauty from any Sunbeam had ever known. Everything seemed to be placed exactly where it belonged. Sunny marveled at the beauty of it all, but wondered how she would ever fit into or find her place in such a controlled environment.

Sam shifted gears then turned onto a dirt road, the tires kicking up a trail of dust behind them as they sped along.

“Your Auntie Rose lives over there” said Sam. He thrust his chin toward a hillside that held a beautiful, white two-story house overlooking the valley. As they drove down the long driveway, Sunbeam was excited and curious about her new home. Covering the landscape was a sea of green grass dotted with huge shade trees. The large front yard was neatly manicured and surrounded by many colorful flowers. This was the most beautiful place she had ever seen and she quickly offered a silent prayer of thanks to Creator for her new home.

Her grandmother had often mentioned that Auntie Rose was a nurse and had been married to a doctor, but since his death she lived alone. She would have liked to have known more about Auntie Rose, but never asked since it was disrespectful to speak about such things.

Sam pulled into the back, alongside a red barn. As they got out of the truck Sunny saw Auntie Rose walking toward them with her arms out, smiling. She was happy to see her friendly face, but when Auntie hugged her, she felt awkward returning the embrace.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you,” said Auntie Rose, guiding them toward the house.

They entered a beautiful, tidy white kitchen with many colorful potted plants filling the windows. Auntie Rose poured Sam a cup of coffee and offered them freshly made doughnuts as she asked Sunny about Cheering Woman’s funeral.

She answered each question carefully, remembering her grandmother did not approve of idle gossip.

“It will be nice to have someone living with me,” said Auntie Rose. “Come, let me show you to your room.”
Sam squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, then said, “Sunny will be staying with us for a little while, Sister. Hazel needs her help.”

Auntie Rose was noncommittal and did not argue with Sam. Sunny was very disappointed and felt deeply hurt but she did not dispute their decision. As they said their goodbyes, Sam promised to let Sunny come and visit, then the two of them drove to Sam’s house in silence.

Sunny was shocked when they pulled into a dirt yard and got out of the truck. Her heart sank as she saw a forlorn tarpaper shack surrounded by a graveyard of rusty old trucks, car engines and broken-down farm equipment. The makeshift barn, barely standing, was covered with freshly killed animal skins drying in the sun. Blowflies swarmed over the hides, picking at the unsalted edges as the stench of rotting flesh filled the air.

Several shabbily dressed children ranging in age from six to eight came from the barn accompanied by barking dogs that ran out from under the house. Sam set her suitcase on the ground and without a word got back into the truck and headed down the road disappearing into a cloud of raw brown dust.

Sunny stood there, mute and motionless, wondering what to do next. She picked up her suitcase and headed toward the house followed by four boys and growling dogs.

Hazel stood in the doorway with a fretting baby on her hip. She looked old and tired and Sunny was amazed to see that she was pregnant again. Hazel struggled to get the half-hinged screen door open and with a rather toothless smile said, “This one cries a lot. Think he’s teething,” as she wiped the infant’s runny nose on her dress.

Sunny remained silent as she stepped inside.

“Don’t have much to offer, but we share what we got. Come, I’ll show you where to put your things.”

Hazel shuffled toward the back room with the children following close behind. The room was small and dingy. The walls were lined with folded cots, while the rest of the floor space was crammed with cardboard boxes that held the children’s faded clothing. Hazel pointed toward a stack of folded quilts lying in the far corner of the room and said, “You can sleep there.”

Sunny set her things down and followed Hazel back to the kitchen. She sat down in a rickety chair and Hazel handed her the baby while she heated up a pot of coffee. The baby’s gums were swollen and feverish. Sunny recalled her grandmother’s remedy for teething babies and placing the baby on the floor, she went to the bedroom. She opened her suitcase and removed a copper penny strung on a leather thong. She came back and placed it around the baby’s neck, saying, “There, he should feel better soon.”

Hazel poured the coffee and sat down at the table with Sunny, asking about old friends and relatives on the reservation.

By midday everyone had been fed, and the children wanted to take Sunny around to get her acquainted with the new surroundings. After a short walk, Sunny knew there was nothing here that would remind her of the reservation. Their small creek and wooded places could never replace the old singing river and the wide-open plains. She thought of Cheering Woman and the freedom of reservation life, and was once again overwhelmed by deep loneliness and knew she was already homesick.

Even though Sunny was only ten years old, from the very beginning it was made clear that she was to help Hazel with the chores to pay for her room and board. From morning till night she cooked, cleaned, washed, ironed and took care of the vegetable garden.

At the end of each day, when all the chores were completed, the children would gather around Sunny waiting to go for a walk in the woods. They loved listening to the old Indian stories and all the secrets about nature, just as Sunny had done when her grandmother taught her on their many long walks. This created a certain warmth among them.

Weeks passed and Sunny tried to get to know her father, but he refused to acknowledge her presence. Sam ruled the family with an iron hand, expecting everyone to understand and respond immediately without hesitation or question to his grunts and glares. Sunny soon learned to read the looks and gestures of his voiceless orders. Fear was his enforcer and you either followed Sam’s rules or suffered the consequences. No one dared speak in his presence except in answer to his commands. The mere idea of refusing to obey his orders was unthinkable.

Sam believed emotion was a sign of weakness, and never demonstrated any affection or allowed anyone else to show any kindness in his presence. Sunny often wondered how long she would be able to survive in the midst of this loveless void.

The rules were well established for everyone in the household except Sam. All meals were eaten in silence and no one was allowed to leave the table until Sam had completed his meal. Everyone was assigned duties in the clean up of the kitchen, except Sam. After dinner he kept everyone busy doing chores outside, sometimes till long after dark.

Late one evening Sam arrived home reeking of liquor. This was a very bad sign, and the children either scurried to their bedroom or quickly disappeared. Sunny was putting the baby to bed when he growled from behind his newspaper, “Sunny, go to the store and get me a bottle.”

She reacted like a startled deer at her father’s harsh command. She grabbed a jacket and hesitated at the door.

“It’s getting dark. Can one of the kids go with me?”

“Fuck no! I don’t give a goddamn if it is dark. I told you what to do, now go do it! And don’t you ever give me any fucking back talk again. You understand me, girl?”

Sunny hurried out the door, fearful of what would happen if she waited a moment longer. Everyone was afraid for her as she ran past the window in silence. It was a cold, moonless night and she decided to take a shortcut across the back field and through the woods. As she clutched her jacket close to ward off the cold, tears of hurt and anger rolled down her face. Her heart was filled with pain at Sam’s cruelty.

As she approached the clearing she could see the sawmill looming like a tortured, deformed shadow in the darkness. When she drew closer she saw several dark figures lurking around one of the logging trucks near the front entrance.

“Hey, little girl, where you going?” squawked a boisterous voice.

Sunny quickened her steps, fearing she might be their intended prey. Looking at the ground, she pulled her jacket even tighter, and started to run.

“Hey, come here, little girl. Daddy’s got a nice long hot dog for you.”

The meaning of his crude remark was all too clear. Heart pounding, she picked up her pace.

Other voices shouted from the direction she was headed.

“Hey, little girl, come over here. We’ve got something for you,” they guffawed, shining the truck’s bright lights into her face.

“Holy shit! That’s the crazy Indian’s kid! We better get the fuck outta here.” The men scrambled into the truck and with tires screeching, they drove off.

Sunny was filled with terror. She ran deep into the woods and propelled back across the open pasture. She was breathless when she entered the house. Sam looked at his watch then noticed she did not have his bottle.

“Where’s my goddamn bottle?”

“I didn’t get to the store,” Sunny whispered, eyes on the floor. Sam rose from his chair in a blinding rage as he towered over her. “There was a pack of wild dogs near the sawmill and I was too afraid so I came back!” she mumbled.

Sam stared at her in disbelief for disobeying him. “Goddamnit, girl! That’s a fucking lie. I was by there earlier and there was no fucking dogs! I told you to go get me a bottle of liquor! What does a fucking bunch of dogs have to do with what I told you to do?”

Sam grabbed his coat and dragging Sunny by the sleeve he headed for the door, snarling, “C’mon, you little whore! You better be able to prove your words if you want to live.”

He pushed her into the cab of the truck and drove recklessly toward the mill, circling it many times as he shined his flashlight into the surrounding woods.

“I don’t see any fucking dogs! Where are they Sunny?”

“I don’t know,” Sunny whimpered.

“Let me tell you. There are no goddamn dogs. Tell me the fucking truth before I kill you! You lying piece of shit! You know how much I hate a liar!”

Sam slammed on the brakes causing Sunny’s head to hit the windshield. Filled with wrath, he exploded as he doubled up his fist and struck her hard. Blood trickled from her mouth as silent tears ran down her face. Still not satisfied, he grabbed her by the hair, dragged her from the truck and threw her on the ground.

Sunny recoiled in pain, screaming like a wounded animal.

As the savage beating continued, he drew back his foot and kicked her viciously in the stomach. She screamed and cried and tried to crawl away, but Sam became even more outraged by her apparent cowardice. He yanked Sunny to her feet and holding her close to his face, he slapped her then threatened, “Shut your fucking mouth. Only a fool would try and run from me. If you ever try that again, I’ll hunt you down and kill you. Nobody crosses me and lives to talk about it.”

Sam stared coldly at her, unmoved at the sight of the blood that gushed from a deep gash across her forehead.

“You’re nothing to me and you never will be! You’re just another whining female and you’re damn lucky I don’t put you out of your misery!” he thundered, throwing her back into the truck.

Sunny remembered her grandmother’s warning and recognized the Evil One in Sam. As her spirit wilted, her eyes held a blank stare and she willingly submitted, just as if she were one of Sam’s hound dogs.

“There were no dogs. I was afraid to tell you about the men in the blue truck that were at the sawmill,” she whimpered.

“What men?” exploded Sam. “No man would ever touch a kid that belongs to me! They know I’d kill them!”

Sam double-clutched, slammed the gears into first and spun the truck out of control. He wrestled with the steering wheel for a moment, changed gears and sped down the highway. When they arrived at the liquor store, he left the engine running and swaggered into the store.

Blood poured into Sunny’s eyes. She cracked the door before Sam could return and leaned down to grab a handful of dirt to press against her forehead.

Sam threw a ten dollar bill on the counter, saying, “Gimme a quart of Jim Beam and if some assholes in a blue truck come around, tell them I’ll be seeing them soon.” He grabbed his change and as he strode out he cracked the seal and took a swig while heading back to the truck. Sam sucked on his bottle, letting out a sigh of relief as the warmth of the alcohol temporarily silenced him. He placed the bottle between his legs and drove home.

Sunny glanced at him from the corner of her eye sitting frozen, until Sam pulled into the yard and ordered her into the house.

Hazel gasped in horror. “Oh, my God, Sam! What have you done?”

The kids saw Sunny and quickly slipped back into their bedroom.

“It’s none of your business, so shut your fucking mouth, woman! Stop her bleeding or you’re gonna get the same thing!”

Looking directly at Sunny, he added, “If you ever lie to me again, I’ll kill you. And don’t ever act like a coward around me! If you’re not brave enough to fight for your beliefs, then you’re not strong enough to have a fucking belief. I walk my talk, girl, and don’t you ever doubt it!” He turned like a violent tornado and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

Frantically, Hazel got a wet cloth and with shaking hands she cleaned Sunny’s face, saying, “My God, how could you lie to him when you knew he was drinking? Now he’s gonna get really drunk, then who knows what he’ll do to the rest of us.”

Hurt by Hazel’s words, Sunny pushed her away and went to find her medicine pouch to get some valerian root powder. She pressed it into the open wound, then lay down on her pallet and cried.

Hours passed as Sunny listened to Hazel pacing the floor like a caged animal. Sunny felt sorry for her and got out her prairie dog tooth to pray for mercy on her behalf. The children heard her prayers and moved close, hoping that her prized tooth could stop the beatings.

A dark shadow loomed over the house as everyone waited with dread for Sam to return. An empty darkness filled Sunny’s tormented soul with helplessness as she thought of what she had created for the family. This can’t be happening. I know there’s no love lost between Sam and me, but I think I fear him more than Gnaski, the devil himself.

When Sam returned shortly after midnight all the youngsters pretended to be asleep. From their bedroom they heard him alternate between demanding sexual pleasures and ruthlessly beating Hazel. Throughout the long night Hazel screamed and whimpered, begging Sam to spare the life of their unborn child.

Sunny covered her ears to block out the screams and pitiful pleas, but the horrific sounds still filtered through.

Shortly after daybreak she heard Sam get into his truck and drive away. Sunny jumped up and rushed to the kitchen. She found Hazel’s unconscious naked body sprawled on the floor lying in a pool of blood, beaten beyond recognition, a lifeless infant between her legs.

Sunny grabbed a quilt to cover Hazel and called out to the children to stay in their room. Hazel stirred, then moaned slightly when Sunny cut the baby free. She cleaned the small body, then wrapped it in a blanket and handed it to Hazel who took it and held it tenderly to her bosom, wailing in anguish.

Sunny went to her room and when she returned she placed her bear necklace around Hazel’s neck, saying, “Grandmother gave me this necklace, and I want to give it to you. One of the old people carved it from chokecherry wood. It’ll stop your bleeding. Hold it close to your heart and it’ll make you as strong as an old bear, then you can protect yourself from Sam.”

She took the baby from Hazel’s arms, then carried it into the woods where she dug a small grave and solemnly gave it back to Mother Earth. She placed a small stone on top, then took her pipe and prayed for the baby’s soul, promising she would never forget this day.

Chapter 4
Meeko's Birth

It was earth year 1943 when a powerful force hurled a spiritual being forward with great urgency to another life on Mother Earth. This male soul agonized over the possibility that without this birth it could be lost forever in time and space. Consumed with despair, he cried out to Wakan Tanka to have mercy.

A grave cloudiness loomed over another Montana reservation as the spirit neared its destination. The mortal energy was very dense and held deep sadness, overwhelming the soul who recognized it as remorse exuding from the people. Defenseless against such intense negativity, the spirit succumbed to the stabbing pains of terror that ran rampant over Mother Earth. “I will not be cheated out of this mortal life. I must find the appointed vehicle if I am to have a physical birth,” raged the soul.

The local bartender who knew nothing of these happenings was thankful to be closing another pseudo-glamorous night in his Indian bar. With haughty arrogance he observed his customers, knowing he had taken the lion’s share of their monthly checks. He smiled coldly as he opened the cash register to check his revenue, then hit the overhead lights. “Okay, people, let’s go. It’s been a long night. Last call! Motel time! Come back tomorrow and we’ll do it again,” he announced, his nose curling at the smell of missed urinals and stale vomit drying on the floor.

One by one his customers reluctantly drained their glasses and staggered toward the door, carrying many a bottle hidden under their jackets for the early morning hours to provide the hair of the dog that bit them the night before. As the bartender locked the door behind the last one, he chuckled, knowing they would be sitting on the curb before six o’clock waiting for him to open. He wasn’t surprised when he saw a young Indian girl lying face down at the end of the bar. “Goddamnit, Renna! C’mon, get the hell outta here. I’m closed,” he barked, shaking her by the shoulder. Renna raised her head and stood with the help of the nearest barstool.

“C’mon! Get your shit together, goddamnit! This pisses me off!” he yelled, grabbing her by the jacket. Renna downed her drink and vomited before she reached the front door. “Sonuvabitch! Get the fuck outta here. You goddamn fucking Indians are all alike!” he yelled, pushing her onto the street. “What the fuck are you doing out anyway? You should be home! Don’t you fucking know you’re ready to drop that baby any time?”

“Don’t tell me nothing, you Wasichu bastard. I do what I wanna do,” growled Renna.

“Fucking right, bitch! You’re all alike! Drunk, broke or begging,” he mumbled, slamming the door.

As the sidewalk spun up to meet her face, Renna leaned against the building then fell down in a drunken stupor. The winds joined her in a mournful cry as they whipped the freshly falling snow over her body. As she lay staring at the bluish haze reflecting from the street light, she saw the town through mystic eyes and enjoyed this moment of strange beauty. The cold night had a sobering effect and made her realize that she could not go home in her present state. She dragged herself to her feet, knowing she must make it to the truck stop if she was to have a free meal and a bed for the night.

The seventeen-year-old Renna struggled as she staggered slowly along, fighting against the unrelenting winds that punctured the shadowed futility of her pitiful life. Crossing the railroad tracks, she felt the impact of yet another invisible wall, the wall which separated the white people from the dirty Indian. “Damn this fucking place and all that’s connected to reservation life!” She screamed as she tried to cover her protruding belly with her coat for protection against the unyielding winds that fought hard against her. “Fuck it! I’ll take my peace from the bottle,” she wailed into the silent hours of the early morning. Desperately she searched for her brown paper bag and with unsteady hands unscrewed the cap then sucked the bottle dry to rid herself of the excruciating pain. She flung the bottle onto the pavement in defiance, laughing in triumph as she watched it shatter into a thousand pieces.

At that moment, Renna’s water broke, causing her to catch her breath as she went into labor. Crying out for help into the darkened and deserted street, she slowly staggered back toward the bar. As the pains intensified, she managed to crawl down the alley behind the bar until the pain finally forced her flat on the ground. And there she lay, helpless among the overflowing garbage cans, wailing, praying and screaming in pitiful agony.

“Hau, Wakan Tanka,” she screamed, bearing down hard against the torrent of pain, feeling as if her body was going to explode. “Somebody! Please send me help!” she begged. Placing her hands between her legs, she felt the baby’s head protruding from her body and clawed at it until the infant slowly emerged into the world, still connected to the cord of life that had sustained it for the last nine months. Renna’s pain was replaced by a dull, throbbing ache as she lay in silent helplessness, unaware that the child had not yet filled its lungs.

The snow continued to fall, covering her unwanted child with its first blanket. Renna was oblivious to the soul encased in a sphere of soft blue light that hovered above the infant. Feeling the loveless moment, it accepted with great sorrow the reality of never knowing a mother’s love. Attempting to protect this fragile new life and hoping to generate a life force, the soul tried again and again to enter the motionless, wet body. I must protect this vehicle if I am to experience this birth, the soul thought and called upon the powers of life. “Oh, Wi, touch this newborn with warmth and ignite its life fire.” But Father Sun did not hear, and the child’s body remained cold and lifeless, its lungs not yet filled with their Niya, the breath of life, given by Taté, the Wind.

The silence of the night was shattered when hoards of hungry rats, the four legged vultures of death and disease, started searching among the garbage for their dinner. Finding meager pickings in the trash cans, they approached the newborn and began to eat from its bloody body. A little field mouse, surveying its surroundings from the top of an overturned garbage can, twitched his whiskers in great puzzlement, unable to recollect ever having seen a hairless two legged lying in his dinner. He watched the two legged’s soul light moving in and out of the wee body as more rats began to nibble at its arms then its legs. Filled with heartache, the soul cried out in desperation to Wakan Tanka, begging Great Spirit to save the child that was to house him.

At that moment in a small house across town, an old white-haired medicine man awakened with a start at the sound of a baby’s cry. He sat up to see a large bluish ball of light hovering over his head and heard the heart-rending cries from within its core. Renna! He jumped up and raced to the other room to find her cot empty. Dressing quickly, he jumped into his truck, allowing the blue light to guide him toward Wolf Point where he knew Renna was likely to be found.

“Where is that girl?” he asked himself as he approached the south side of town. The streets were deserted, yet he still felt her presence. As he neared the alley he saw the ball of light hovering behind the bar. He pulled to a stop and got out, rushing as fast as his legs would carry him. He stopped abruptly when he saw Renna lying on the ground with a small form between her legs. “Oh, Tunka'shila,” Granbear said, tears of gratitude filling his eyes. “Thank you. You have guided me well.”

Opening her eyes, Renna saw her grandfather and cried out, “Oh, Granbear. Over here! Hurry! Thank you for coming. Please help me.”

Granbear squinted his eyes for a better look. “Oh, Tunka'shila, are my eyes deceiving me? Has my great-grandson been born?” Bending down to look closer at the small shape between Renna’s legs, he saw the rats chewing on the baby’s blood-covered body. Immediately his joy turned to fury as he stood up and began swinging his walking cane over the child until the last of the heartless intruders had scurried away. Looking more closely, he saw a round silver-blue light enter and re-enter the baby again and again. “What miracle is this?” asked Granbear, knowing he had been guided by the Great Spirit to save this child.

Filled with amazement, Granbear humbly witnessed the miracle of a spirit entering a body to give it life. “Hau, Wakan Tanka, thank you for allowing me to be part of my great-grandson’s birth,” he prayed as he knelt down, joyful tears flowing down his wrinkled cheeks. Using his pocket knife, he severed the umbilical cord and stuffed it into his pocket. Taking his fingers, he cleaned out the baby’s mouth and offered it his breath, then smacked its tiny butt. As a lusty cry burst forth breaking the silence of the night, Granbear echoed this moment of happiness with joyful laughter, offering the baby up to Wakan Tanka. “Oh, thank you, Great Spirit, for allowing my great-grandson to live. How can I ever repay you for such a wonderful gift? Tunka'shila, I am honored to witness such a miracle. Hau, Mitakuye Oyasin.” With trembling hands Granbear tightly wrapped the baby in his jacket and held it close to his body for warmth, saying, “Come, Renna, the baby is badly hurt. We must get home.”

With Granbear’s help Renna struggled to her feet, and three generations of Bear Clan headed for home. Gently the old medicine man placed the infant on the seat between them. They drove in silence until without warning Granbear burst into a special birthing song. He knew Wakan Tanka had extended his ninety-two years of earth time to train this baby in the old ways and the mere thought made him feel young again. After he pulled into the front yard, Granbear shut off the engine and got out of the truck. Holding the baby lovingly in his arms, he carried it into the house where he proceeded to take total ownership of Renna’s child.

Auntie Lizzie, a heavy set woman with a worry-creased brow, was standing in the doorway and smiled when she saw they were all safe. Wringing her hands in her apron, she said, “Oh, Grandfather, I was so worried. I’m glad you found her and that everyone is safe.”

“No need to worry, Lizzie. Renna’s had a boy child. You help her, and I’ll take care of the baby.”

Auntie Lizzie guided Renna toward her cot behind the cookstove. “Whatever are we going to do with you, Daughter?” she scolded, covering her with a star quilt. Renna, still dazed from alcohol and giving birth, rolled over and faced the wall to escape another lecture from her mother. Lizzie quickly boiled some bitterroot tea and forced Renna to drink it, saying, “This will help you get well.”

“Let her be, Lizzie. Heat a kettle of water and let’s get this baby cleaned up and into some warm clothes.”

Auntie Lizzie stoked the fire and placed another kettle on to boil, thinking it had been a long time since a baby had blessed their home. Filling a pan with warm water, she took the baby from Granbear, and as she started to bathe it, she burst into tears. “Oh, Granbear, this child is so weak and what are these awful bites? It looks as if a demon has tried to take its life. I think these wounds are going to leave bad scars.” Raising her voice to Tunka'shila, she prayed, “Have mercy on this family. Do not let this child become another cursed soul.”

“Easy, Daughter, the baby will live. The rats may have taken some flesh, but don’t worry, no demon will ever take a soul away from this medicine man,” declared Granbear as he busied himself preparing a medicine salve. Lizzie handed the baby to Granbear and stood watching him as he applied it to the infant’s wounds while chanting an old medicine healing song.

He then handed the baby to Lizzie who wrapped it tightly in a soft blanket, saying, “Grandfather, I know this soul will be safe with your medicine. Did you notice the big bones of this child?”

Granbear took the baby in his arms and sat down in his rocker next to the stove. “Good Sioux blood, Daughter. Someday he will be very big in many ways,” chuckled Granbear.

“Is that so, Grandfather?” responded Lizzie, smiling fondly as she got up and put another pot of coffee on the stove.

As the wonderful aroma of boiling coffee filled the house, a gentle smile crossed Granbear’s face and he gathered his thoughts before speaking. “Lizzie, I witnessed my great-grandson’s soul enter his body. Ah yes, Wakan Tanka works in strange ways. Who would ever think I would be given such a beautiful gift from the Great Spirit? This soul and I have shared many lifetimes and Wakan Tanka has seen fit for us to share in another mortal destiny. Yes, Daughter, this soul has a profound destiny and is a gift to the people. This is why he has been given to us. I will help direct his birth purpose and prepare him to someday become medicine and serve the people. This child will help bond all the Indian nations as one people. If this is not so, then who is this I hold in my arms?”

Upon hearing Granbear’s words, Auntie Lizzie recalled when long ago he had spoken of a special one that would be born to the Bear Clan. As she fussed with the baby’s blanket, she had no doubts about his predictions of the future. They waited for the coffee to finish brewing, soothed by the pot’s steady rhythm as its fresh aroma joined their thoughts.

“Pour me a cup of that coffee, Daughter,” said Granbear, looking deep into the bright face of his great-grandson. As if in answer to his unspoken words, the baby opened its eyes and stared back. Granbear felt an intense inner knowing between him and his great-grandson and he embraced the moment in silence as he sipped his coffee. This connection between them seemed to come from the understanding of their many shared dreams from another time and place. “Lizzie, I want you to always remember what I’m about to say. I know this soul. This child belongs to me, not to Renna. We will raise him until he is ready for his boy training, then I’ll take him to my apprentice, Shadowhawk.”

“Well, Grandfather, that’s a wonderful plan.” Lizzie smiled thinking fondly of Shadowhawk, her ex-husband. They were very young when they had first met, what a pity they were no longer together. But still, Shadowhawk was a fine man, a great warrior and a very good medicine man.

“Ah, Granbear, it seems the past has met with the future. Don’t you think you and the new baby have many things to discuss. But first Grandfather, don’t you think you should give him a name before he starts on this long journey with you?”

Noticing the projected indifference of the baby’s eyes, Granbear said, “Lizzie, this child carries two souls, yet they are one. This is very unusual. I think the younger soul was Creek in its last life, but the older one is, and always was, Sioux. We must choose the name carefully so as not to offend either spirit. A Creek friend once told me that such a child as this was called a Meeko, a special born one. If what I suspect is true, I must train him in a special way so he will surrender his soul to deeper awareness. Hmmm, this is definitely a Meeko. That’s what we will call him. Meeko, the special born one.”

Lizzie did not reply. Seeing the tightness of her lips, Granbear laughed and said, “I did not know you were so prejudiced. Isn’t a Creek name good enough for your grandson, or did you want him to have a good Sioux name?”

“Yes, Grandfather, I did. This child is Sioux, and a Sioux name is more fitting. But I know what you say is true, therefore I have no doubt about your decision. I know nothing of this other soul, but you are strong medicine and the name is up to you.”
“Well, Daughter, if my decision is bothering you, then bring my pipe and we shall ask this soul for its name.”

Lizzie handed him the pipe and as Granbear filled and lit it, he prayed, “Hau, Wakan Tanka. I am no longer a tired old man. Once again you have given me the opportunity to become a useful tool and be your faithful servant. Help us understand this soul’s mission and give us a sign to guide us to his rightful name.” Granbear passed the pipe to Lizzie. As the winds came down the stovepipe it suddenly popped loudly and shot bright red flames across the room.

A strong voice echoed, “This soul is a true Meeko. Teach him the ways, and as spirit I will guide him until his mission on earth is completed.”

Terror struck Lizzie’s heart and she quickly handed the pipe back to Granbear. As he smoked the last of the tobacco, he prayed, “Oh, Tunka'shila, thank you for the sign. I am humbled. I will do as you ask and train him to walk in honor just as his forefathers, so he too can learn the joy of sharing in a good way. Hau, Wakan Tanka, let it be so. Hau, Mitakuye Oyasin.”

Granbear and Lizzie wept with happiness at the completion of the spirit’s visit. Lizzie wiped her eyes and apologized profusely for having doubted Granbear’s knowledge. “Oh, Até, if this is what Tunka'shila wants, I will support your every endeavor in raising this child.” Picking up the baby, Lizzie held it close to her breast and beseeched the spirit helpers to give Granbear no more responsibility than he could handle at such an advanced age. Yet, underlying her thoughts, remained the fear that this baby would become just another damned soul, born to have its life choked off by the government’s steel grip on reservation life. Fervently hoping otherwise, she readied for bed and as Granbear blew out the light, all was silent and peaceful in the Bear Clan home.

Chapter 7
The Medicine Wheel
Eagle

Early the next morning the sun rose on the shadowy figure of Granbear standing in the West Door of the Medicine Wheel. Showing proper respect, Meeko waited in the distance, hoping he would be allowed to continue his studies. As his morning prayers were completed, Granbear motioned him to enter the Medicine Wheel and sit quietly by his side.

“Grandson, this sacred Medicine Wheel is very ancient and has many invisible circles to teach you. It will reveal all its knowledge as you learn to walk in balance and harmony with Mother Earth. But first we need to get rid of false ideas about ourselves so we can be aware of the true spirit of life. It is nature that teaches us survival and opens the door to our hearts.”

Thrusting his chin forward, Granbear indicated the four directions of the Medicine Wheel and said, “The good Red Road runs North to South, and the Black Road of experience, runs East to West. Now, that’s the four directions. The spiritual Red Road is long and walked by few. If you are among the special born ones who complete this difficult journey, living between worlds will bring you much beauty.

“But let’s start at the beginning. Before entering the Sacred Medicine Wheel, we purify ourselves with sage since Wakan Tanka wants us to come to the sacred spirit beings with a pure heart.” Granbear took a pinch of tobacco and offered it in prayer to the West Door where he would begin Meeko’s training.

With hooded eyes, he looked at Meeko, saying, “Grandson, long before the white race came to our land, the people lived in a good way and walked the sacred wheels of life in prayer, always honoring the teachings of Mother Life and the sacredness of silence. We know the West is the home of Wanbli Gle'ska, who speaks to us from where the sun goes over down. So we enter at the West Door, since it was the first direction established, then we travel clockwise. When we lift our eyes to the sky looking for the great Sun Bird Chief, he makes us search until we find the excitement of him in our hearts.

“Being the highest-flying bird in the world, Wanbli Gle'ska tells his earthbound brothers and sisters to fly high so they can see the bigger picture of life before making decisions. Grandson, life’s hesitations create fear and procrastination, and these surely confuse the mind. Eagle power can stop this uncertainty once you rid yourself of useless beliefs. This sky patroller tells earthbound children to go forward and expand their horizons, to express themselves simply and beautifully while accepting the harshness of life. Eagle also tells you to look at a situation according to its merits and never allow anyone to discourage you from your goal.

“If you listen to Wanbli Gle'ska, you will feel him forcing you to refine your feelings as he moves through your heart, piercing your soul with such beauty that you will understand his great wisdom. Freedom is letting Eagle draw you into flight and guide you to the unlimited power of the spirit world. This opens your heart and lets you transform your weaknesses into strengths. Only then can you understand the humility one needs in order to fly with Wanbli Gle'ska.

“Once you can see the ever-changing cycles of your life and be willing to face the unexplored questions in your mind, you will be able to take a weakness and turn it into a strength. But if you keep harmful thoughts, your mind will create a bad life for you and those you love. You see, a person is never just their past. They become who they are by the way they think about their past.

“Ah, Meeko, Eagle shows us his teachings in how he lives and dies. Did you know that Eagle only works about fifteen minutes a day, then spends the rest of his day grooming his mighty wings to be ready for another flight? Think of how Eagle made you feel as you watched him soar high above in his many flying designs. He can see the smallest of movements and when he folds his wings and drops from the sky, he knows that Great Spirit has given him food so he can live for another day.

“Remember how Eagle came to you in your hour of need and gathered you up in his powerful wings to bring you home? What you heard was his sacred truth calling you back to the drum. You flew high above with Eagle that day. It’s once again time to listen to this king of the sky and search to find the raw beauty that sleeps in your soul.

“They say this multi-colored bird flew so close to the sun that his magnificent wings started to melt and caused his colors to run together. That’s how he got the name Golden Eagle. It was Wakan Tanka who made Wanbli Gle'ska his bravest sky messenger. He takes our prayers on his feathers to the spirit of Red Rope who goes between Creator and all the earth children. It takes great preparation to fly with Wanbli Gle'ska, Meeko, for he commands that seekers understand the above and below powers. Eagle says, ‘Before you can fly with me, you must find that power within yourself.’

“It’s an honor to wear an eagle’s feather, and it takes an act of bravery or a great deed to be worthy of such an honor. We, as a people, never give anyone a golden eagle feather unless they have proven their worthiness.

“Why, even our Dog Soldiers and medicine people must earn the right to carry this sacred feather. Because eagle’s strength and swiftness is matched by no other, we always trust the wearer. In the old days, an eagle feather was its owner’s greatest possession, and the loss of an eagle feather brought dishonor. A warrior would rather give up his wife or his horse than lose one,” said Granbear with a twinkle in his eyes.

Meeko watched closely, for behind Granbear’s gestures and amusing smiles, trickery could be hiding. Thinking of Shadowhawk, he quickly searched his mind to make sure he understood the lesson. Feeling assured, Meeko started to ask a question, as Granbear brought his hand up to his mouth. “Be silent as Eagle. I’ll be back this afternoon.” Meeko remained silent with eyes lowered for he knew if he didn’t he would be there for who knows how long. It was almost dark when Granbear returned. “Did you enjoy your day with Eagle?”

“Oh, yes, Granbear, especially learning about the sacred feathers. You have so many, why even your war bonnet has two stringers that reach to the ground. You must be a very important person.”

Granbear smiled, “Ah yes, and I earned every one of them. These feathers give me the strength to fly with Eagle and study the world from high above. One must search a long time to see beauty through the eyes of Eagle. When you grow into this kind of power, Meeko, it will take over everything in your life.” Getting up to leave, he told Meeko, “You stay here for the night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Meeko was confused about why he had been left without food or blankets since he had shown no disrespect. Feeling rejected, he curled up in the West Door and pouting, cried himself to sleep.

Meeko awakened at daybreak, his body shaking from the cold. He was grateful when the sun rose and warmed him. Granbear arrived and motioned for him to leave the Medicine Wheel, then handed him an egg sandwich and a cup of hot coffee. “Meeko, when you finish eating, get cleaned up and come back. Now hurry! We have a lot to do today.”

Granbear was just putting away his pipe when Meeko approached the Medicine Wheel, waiting to be invited to enter. They sat in the West as Granbear began the day’s lesson. “Grandson, long ago I wanted to become an eagle catcher. I spoke with Medicine about earning this gift and spent many moons learning about Eagle. Finally I was chosen with the greatest of care by an old chief who had decided that I was smart enough to capture Golden Eagle.

“I fasted for four days and did many sweats to prepare my mind. When I was ready, I stalked Eagle. When I found his favorite hunting grounds, I built my shelter near the water to learn how to blend into his territory. Only with great patience and will was I able to handle the elements. Many times I thought I was on an impossible quest, but in time we became adjusted to each other’s presence. I learned I could mimic eagle’s screaming, shrill voice and when I called to him he would answer. I lived the way he did until I too was an eagle. Then I knew I was ready to be an Eagle Catcher.

“Early one morning I took my bear knife and dug a large pit in the ground, then cut many branches to cover the hole. I then smoked my pipe, asking Wakan Tanka to help me on my mission. Once satisfied I was doing the right thing, I took my bow and arrows and went in search of a rabbit. In late afternoon I returned to camp with a dead rabbit hanging over my shoulder. After carefully checking the blind, I tied the rabbit to the top and crawled inside to wait.”

Meeko, living every word of Granbear’s story, was spellbound and excitedly blurted out, “Granbear, why didn’t you ever tell me this story before?”

Granbear abruptly left the Medicine Wheel, sat under a nearby tree and lit his happy pipe, ignoring Meeko, who again was baffled by his grandfather’s behavior. The wise old medicine man smiled at him with a knowing look as he finished smoking his pipe and returned to the Medicine Wheel. “Meeko, if you don’t get out of your head and listen with your heart, you can never connect to the heart of Eagle. It’s sad you waste so much time asking questions instead of listening. Lack of knowledge can stunt your thinking and leave little room for your mind to work.

“Eagle is a wise stalker of thoughts. I know this, because that old bird watched me from above and kept me waiting in that pit for four days. Boy, did I ever learn patience from that master teacher. A few times he flew close, eyeballing the rabbit. And on the fourth day, I was thrilled to hear the singing winds rush through his wings, telling me that he was landing.

“It seemed like forever as I waited inside that blind. My heart pounded so loud that I feared it would destroy the silence. Then suddenly the eagle jumped to the top and moved toward the dead rabbit. I rose to my knees, reached through the branches, and with lightning speed grabbed his feet, pulling him into the pit. Once inside, though, he broke free of my grip and backed into a corner. Then we studied each other as still as could be. I knew if I made one wrong move, he would rip me apart.

“At this moment I too was Eagle and knew that to stay alive I would have to call forth the warrior in me. He charged, and I grabbed him without crushing a feather, then quickly broke his back. Crying out to Wakan Tanka, I asked forgiveness for taking Eagle’s life. A minute later, while I was still holding this beautiful sacred bird, the sky opened up and Eagle’s soul was released. I cried with joy as I heard his shrill, voice calling out to me, and I knew this sacred sentry of the sky was heading home to the Eagle nation.

“When I returned with the bird, there was indeed a great celebration among the people. I went directly to the medicine man, who had a sweat ready for me. I spoke to Eagle through my prayers and promised that every part of his body would become a strong spiritual tool for the people. As I left the sweat, I knew that Eagle had eaten my heart and we would always be one. I wrapped that sacred bird in sage for protection, and ever since I’ve used Eagle’s mind-heart power. Once touched by Wanbli Gle'ska, Meeko, your spirit will always track the wisdom in your soul through his flight.”

Granbear slowly handed his grandson a beaded golden eagle feather with red markings, saying, “Take this warrior feather. The mark of red paint means it was earned from a killing during battle. I hope that someday it will take you through the sun. When the right time comes, Shadowhawk will awaken the warrior that sleeps deep inside you. Once you have done battle and taken a life you will never forget it.”

A strange power surged through Meeko as he took the feather. Holding it close to his heart, he trembled for he felt the vibration of death roll over his body.

“Now that you have felt the power of Wanbli Gle'ska, Gatekeeper of the West Door, I will leave you to think about his gift.”

Meeko thought about the superiority of Eagle, whose powers far surpassed human capabilities. He cried as he remembered the magnificent bird that had once called out, “How high can you fly, Meeko?” His heart gripped by talons of terror, Meeko knew he must change his feelings about Renna if he was ever to connect to the heart of Eagle. Not knowing how to release his pain, he raised his eagle feather in the air and prayed to Wakan Tanka to help him rise as the Thunderbird from the ashes of his past.

To escape the incessant flow of bad memories, Meeko left the Medicine Wheel, feather in hand, and began running. Not until long after dark did he return home, still filled with sadness. Pulling out the old eagle bundle from under his bed, he placed it beside him and crawled under the covers hoping to sleep. But he was restless, so he began caressing each bone and feather, reliving the helplessness he felt while watching Eagle fall from the sky. Suddenly he realized this sacred bird had sacrificed its life to help him attain freedom, giving him the courage to escape the orphanage and return to the reservation. And although he did not know it at the time, this same eagle would someday give him the power to return to Wakan Tanka and serve under the Law of One.

After breakfast the following morning, Meeko hurried to meet Granbear at the Medicine Wheel. They sat together in silence at the West Door. “Ah, Grandson, I’m proud of your efforts to connect to the power of Eagle, but there are many other flying ones who live in the West. You will learn that each one of them has very different abilities,” said Granbear as he continued to unfold the knowledge of the flying ones through his time-honored stories.

As a sparrow hawk flew nearby, Meeko smiled at the fierceness of his little face and immediately recognized his courage. With childlike excitement, Granbear said, “Thank you, little one, for sharing your gift with my grandson.” Then turning to Meeko, he explained, “Sparrow Hawk’s gift is the mind, and he knows all about your past lives. His graceful flight teaches us to take control of our thoughts and actions; in fact, he won’t be around anyone who runs in fear. To see Sparrow Hawk’s commitment in hunting, you must go to the grassy plains, because he lives mostly on insects and rodents. Grandson, when you want to do anything, you’ll need to know Sparrow Hawk’s power.

After lunch as Granbear and Meeko were walking along a new trail, they had a chance encounter with a red-tailed hawk. Granbear pointed in excitement. “See that warrior bird? We sometimes call him Little Eagle because he’s so fearless. Good warriors carry his honored feathers while searching out a hidden enemy since he teaches us to be aware of everything. He can attack an enemy of any size with perfect accuracy. There’s no mistaking the roaring thunder of his savagery when he folds his wings inward and falls from the sky.

“Each time our Dog Soldiers carried this winged warrior’s feathers with them into battle, they knew they would bring home victory. To be accepted by all the flying ones, Meeko, you must become sensitive to them. The winged ones demand you stalk yourself and find your truth before they will let you sit at their feast of knowledge. Only then can you feel the spirit of these beings and understand their shrill messages riding on the winds.”

It was almost dark when they returned home, tired and hungry from their long day’s journey. Granbear instructed Meeko to sit in the West Door of the Medicine Wheel and reflect on his new knowledge. Listening to the night creatures as they awakened, Meeko thought about hawks. Then he felt a chill of fear run up his spine as he heard one say, “Take pity on this puny human.” Disregarding Granbear’s instructions to stay in the Medicine Wheel, Meeko ran to the house and crawled into bed for the night, but he was still pursued by dreams of birds.

Before going to the arbor for breakfast the following morning, Meeko apologized to Granbear for his lack of courage, telling him of his dreams. “Granbear, Raven walked on my dreams last night. He took me to a world of darkness and spoke of things to come. Flying right ahead of me, Raven said, ‘You must know hawk and learn to battle your fears before you can fly with me,’ then he took off. Can you tell me what this means?”

“Ah yes, Grandson, I know much of this talking bird,” sighed Granbear, lighting his happy pipe. “He dares us to go into the invisible darkness of our feared future. Raven is the power of the prophet. He sees the past, present and future and speaks to us in Shadow World about how things are born into being. It takes a mighty worthy person to fly beyond time with him. Raven can fold time. It’s like watching an eclipse of our sun. He demands we have complete awareness of our thoughts.

“You must be able to spiral directly into the void before you can approach Raven, so he can show you how to attain your most desired dreams. Ah yes, Meeko, Raven commands that you build strong beliefs before he will teach you to manifest your dreams from a future that is not yet created. The power of such a powerful spirit speaking to you lets me know that you may have great intelligence and leadership abilities, but it will take much thought and courage to cross into the blue-black darkness of Raven’s unknown space.

“The old people always say that dreamers must be willing to walk between the known and the unknown worlds before Raven will even bother with them.” Granbear smiled mysteriously and leaned close to Meeko whispering, “Watch the sky. If you see two or more ravens flying restlessly, know you are in danger and go home to fight another day. Always listen closely to Raven, for he speaks the magic of the old language of the Shamans.”

Meeko’s eyes grew wide with fear as Granbear continued. “It was your choice to follow the old ways. But you can do nothing with Raven power until you learn to believe in yourself. Don’t be afraid, Grandson, someday you will accept the responsibility that comes with knowledge. I pray that you will have a strong mind with a good heart. The old ways demand discipline to build power. This is what drives us to our spiritual growth and makes life an exciting adventure.”

At that moment, a butterfly landed on Meeko’s left hand. As he sat admiring its beauty, he saw a woman’s face and felt a strange memory from another time and place. Granbear saw this and knew Meeko had made a connection to his soul’s purpose.

“Grandson, that butterfly is telling you to become persistent so you can understand his gentle message of love. Think of him as an ally in completing your transformation to a good life. Butterfly must go through four stages, and each carries many lessons. The first stage is the egg with its protective covering, teaching us to protect our plans and ideas. There is a hardened circular hole in the top that gives it time to think and prepare for its birthing as a caterpillar. Once it fattens up, the caterpillar weaves itself into a cocoon. There it must eat the knowledge before splitting open from its shell and emerging into our world as a beautiful, elusive butterfly.

“Those four stages of Butterfly teach us to be aware of the four seasons and the four stages of humanity. The first twenty years of our lives are spent in preparation. Over the next twenty years we become responsible for ourselves. The third twenty years teach us to become good adults. And the fourth twenty years teach us to become wise old people. Making the right transformation in every season of our lives prepares us to return to the spirit world.” When Granbear had finished speaking, the butterfly gently flew away.

“Granbear, how did you learn all these things?”

“As a young warrior, I talked to everything. So I asked Butterfly and he told me there was a gentleness in trust. I have always liked observing things. I had to commit to all of my learning with humility and thankfulness. Everything in my life demanded that I learn from my feats and defeats,” said Granbear, matter-of-factly. “Meeko! Don’t move! Another lesson is waiting. Look slowly to your right, and you’ll see a little chickadee.”

Meeko turned his head, whispering, “What does that mean?”

“Grandson, Chickadee is the power of joy. This little bird is always happy, you can hear it in his songs. Long ago he wanted all the knowledge and flew to every camp and listened without ever uttering a word. This taught him to listen to others and never interrupt. The Chickadee knows everything. He’s one of the smallest birds, yet he carries great power. That’s why he never fails himself. His happy little voice invites everyone to come and dance with him in celebration of all life’s changes. I honor the little feathers of Chickadee because he also teaches us the beauty of life, and reminds us that no matter how hard our life’s experiences become, they are merely lessons for learning.

“I remember once my father gave me a chickadee feather, and said, ‘Son, make plenty of friends, for they will become your human power.’ Someday, Grandson, I want you to become as fierce as Hawk and have the strength of Eagle, yet always touch life as gently as Butterfly. Only then can you say that you have entered the veil of Chickadee’s reality.

“As time goes by you will learn best in the silence of the Medicine Wheel. I want you to find the silent voice of your inner, untouched wilderness. It is that grand vision you must encounter to meet the most feared and dangerous beast in the world. That is yourself. When you can accept the beauty and the ugly that is hidden inside of you and challenges all that you are, then you can see your true self.

“Someday you will have to battle with two ravaging beasts, Greed and Destruction. Every life force lives with the unrest of these unscrupulous monsters. People with these demons do not understand that their dangerous thoughts and actions are destroying our planet. You must learn to fight and win the battle of ignorance so that Maka-Akan, Earth Spirit, can be brought back into balance. Someday you must make the people aware of the importance of Creator’s bigger plans for Maka Ina, Earth Mother.

Alarmed, Meeko asked, “Granbear, do you think the world will be destroyed?”

“Maybe, Grandson, I pray for the day when everyone wakes up and sees the grave damage that is driving Mother Earth into helplessness. Come, we’ll go sit with Tunka'shila and ask him to show you these many truths that I’ve explained.” Granbear picked up his cane and headed toward the Medicine Wheel.

Granbear sat down quietly across from Meeko and took a deep breath. “Today you will join with my mind so you can see all the life forces of creation.” Seeing the worried look that cut a deep crease across Meeko’s brow, Granbear extended his hands cautiously and began to chant an old song. Slowly Meeko folded into many ecliptic dark pools with swirling shades of midnight blue. As he spun amidst the dark circles he heard Granbear’s voice tell him, “Relax, Meeko. We’re just creations from the paintbrushes of Wakan Tanka’s hand.”

Then another voice spoke from afar. “Welcome, Child. You have arrived in the heart of Wakan Tanka’s blessings. Your happiness comes from the ever-flickering light of truth that radiates from your mother, the Earth. When you can accept this, you will be able to speak directly to the talking shadows of all life’s reflections. Stop being afraid. Taste the black of darkness to learn the beauty in Good and Evil which is just a tool to teach you the power of your will. Build your strengths in love and goodness, and you will feed the lightning in your blood. This wisdom was fed to you from your people of long ago. Let me enter the stillness of your heart so we may bond in the space of all inner wisdom.”

Suddenly Meeko was falling. As he spun out of control, he saw his people dancing through time, removing the boundaries of fear that held him in bondage. He felt courage and trust break free from his slumbering soul and heard the stars speak of the old knowledge while he walked as a spirit through a veil of mystic shadows.

“Let the past hold you in peace under this blanket of pure sacredness,” whispered Granbear’s voice.

Meeko felt strange as another void of blackness engulfed him. Again, he spun out of control, screaming helplessly until he joined in a dance of circling winds that whipped him into a spring day. He saw a leaf grow from the center of another spiral and was swept up with it. Suddenly, the leaf turned into a field of fallen leaves covering the ground like shining crystals. He reached for one and instantly a tree filled with golden leaves sprang forth. Astonished, Meeko watched the sacred cottonwood tree turn into crystal-like cathedrals emerging from Granbear’s head.

“Use the secrets of breath that come before sunrise and you will visit many worlds,” said Granbear as he touched Meeko’s chest. Meeko felt his breath leave his body as he watched thousands of sun rays melt into streams of brightness flowing into Mother Earth’s body. A feeling of joy pierced his heart and Meeko felt his soul open into dimensional time, space. He screamed until he heard Granbear’s voice urging him toward a tunnel surrounded by shades of many dense colors.

As he entered the tunnel he melded with Granbear’s mind and tracked the spirit of Eagle. He knew Eagle’s touch and flew comfortably with him on webs of shimmering light energy that swirled through them. When they neared the center of everything, Meeko covered his eyes, fearing blindness from the brilliant light as they entered into the power of pure spirit love. Moving at light speed along shining filaments of pure energy, Meeko saw a group of strange looking people who were also working to return to the love of Wakan Tanka.

Spiraling outwardly upon these filaments, Meeko, Granbear, and Eagle rode the solar winds. While soaring, Meeko heard many birds speaking to the life-giving rains. Then many hills burst forth with blooming flowers as the flowing grass caressed the ground and the trees shouted in a glorious explosion of purified air. Suddenly he was surrounded by his long ago ancestors and heard an unfamiliar voice say, “Grandson, go back to the beginning of creation and know you will always be one with your people.”

Meeko’s body jolted forward, and he abruptly opened his eyes, knowing Granbear had shown him the power that lived in the sacred West Door of the Medicine Wheel.

Granbear let go of Meeko’s hands and they left the Medicine Wheel in silence. While they quietly ate their evening meal, Meeko knew everything was the same, yet incredibly different. As darkness covered the sky, he walked Granbear home under the light of the night sun. “Tomorrow we will begin our journey to the North Door,” Granbear smiled as Meeko helped him up the steps.

Meeko opened the door and turned on the light. “Granbear, can I sleep under the stars tonight? I want to think about what I saw in the West Door.” Granbear smiled, nodding his head in approval.

Later that evening, Shadowhawk stepped from the bushes. “Grandson, I’m glad you’re not asleep. I want to give you something that will help you understand the history of Eagle. Long before Europeans stepped on our shores, we had a strong relationship with Eagle. There is, and has always been a bond between the Red man and the Eagle nation. Since the beginning of creation, most every tribe has embraced a time-honored relationship with Wanbli Gle'ska.

The Medicine Wheel
Bear

“Our ancestors were always connected to life. They grew in spirit by walking with the strength of Bear. To follow Bear’s ways, you must become conscious of boundaries and be a fearless survivor. As a people, we have many secret societies named after Bear. You were born into Bear Clan, and I think it would be wise to practice Bear’s habits.

“Mato never bluffs, and makes us walk with honor and courage. The old hermit allows no creature to cross his boundaries. Why, only a fool would get into his space. If you do, that mean old cuss will get his dander up, and fight to the death, destroying everything in his path to get you. His temper is much like Shadowhawk’s was last night. Bear speaks his own language through grunts and body movements. If you’re ever in danger of overstepping Bear’s boundaries, remember he will warn you by giving a cough or a low growl.

“But don’t ever think that Mato can’t play, too. He can be boisterous and frisky, but in the blink of an eye, he can become fierce. Sometimes an apology offered with a little honey can sweeten a bear’s bad temper. Mato walks through life tearing up and discarding things. You must learn to recognize the dangerous side of his medicine. If you listen to my words and work hard to get a kinship with Bear, maybe he’ll touch you in a good way.

“Grandson, I have spent my life learning about this sacred brother. You must trust in this medicine man if you expect to learn the truth of Bear medicine. And as for Crazy Bear, well he’s just crazy. You show his traits by wanting your way all the time. One minute if someone goes against your wishes you’re angry, and the next minute you’re willing to do anything to keep peace. You just can’t react badly because of another’s opinion. This is something you do because you have no strong belief in yourself. You need to learn that acting for the good of all lets you control your emotions and make wise choices.”

Observing Meeko’s lack of interest, Granbear shouted fiercely, “Grandson, you carry so many silent opinions, that they are getting loud enough to hurt my ears. You’d better learn to listen! Don’t ever think you can outsmart this Ole Bear, or I’ll walk on your mind and rip the flesh right from your bones!”

At the thought of another mauling from Granbear, Meeko reflected on the proper response to this ultimatum. It seemed that since he had been learning about Bear, his great-grandfather was continually switching from threats to kindness, keeping him very confused. Maybe he should take a greater interest in Bear to comprehend what was happening.

“Granbear, why do you call bear our two-legged brother?”

“Grandson, Mato often walks in an upright position using his entire foot. When you are no longer a fearful human, you will understand this affectionate, adaptable old soul is a true brother.” Then Granbear’s face softened as he said, “When you were a little boy, I enjoyed taking you into the high mountains in winter. Those trips awakened your instincts, forcing you to learn how to survive under hard conditions. Seeing you so willing to accept life’s challenges and changes, I knew you could face life’s cruel lessons with courage. Go back to that time, Meeko, and remember that was Bear power.”

“Granbear, if I become a bear person, will that keep Renna out of my life?”

“No, but when you learn to think of her with love rather than hate, you will know how to accept who she is and keep your own boundaries.”

Nearly an hour passed without another word from Granbear while he let Meeko ponder this thought. Meeko knew that Granbear was right, but had no idea how to conquer his violent behavior. He wanted to correct his actions, but shame and fear kept him bound in a prison of self rejection.

Finally, Granbear smiled knowingly as he continued to deliberately step across his grandson’s boundaries. “Look how you refuse to share your thoughts with me. Why are you afraid to share yourself? I hope your disinterest in people doesn’t isolate you from the rest of the world. Where is your trust?

“Since birth you have shown the dual traits of Bear. Sometimes you have his courage and stamina, but you also have his laziness and you tend to dawdle. As a child you responded to gentleness, but lately you’ve been acting like Crazy Bear.

“I’ve seen you flirting with the girls. One day I even saw a girl bring you homemade cookies, and you acted just like an Ole Bear that had found a tree with honey. You better control your Crazy Bear nature before one of those girls gets jealous and turns into Crazy Bear and teaches you a lesson about rage.” Meeko never had realized that Granbear knew about this and turned red in embarrassment.

“Grandson, I have eyes that see beyond your thoughts. If you can get the same hunger for learning as you have for cookies, I’ll be happy. Sometimes I think you are both blessed and cursed with some of Mato’s ways. Besides the women, look how you love to curl up by a good fire at night to do your lazy daydreaming. Remember, I’m teaching you about Bear, not Coyote, the Trickster.”

Eager to change the subject, Meeko interjected, “Granbear, I’m trying hard to learn. I want to serve Wakan Tanka. Until I can do it from my heart, I know you won’t let me sing, dance, or share in Bear’s sacred medicines. But I really want to know the songs, dances and how to drum.”

Granbear took a deep breath. “Grandson, those things are all part of my teachings. The most important ceremony is your life journey. Bear, like Eagle, also demands we become keen observers, which gives us the ability to act quickly in any situation. Don’t you understand, even teaching is a sacred ceremony. You’re going to listen with your heart not your head, and you will trust this Ole Bear before I will continue.”

“But I do trust you, Granbear.”

“I hope you do,” countered Granbear, in an exasperated tone. “And I pray that you start using what I tell you so I won’t have to turn into Crazy Bear. I want you to eat my words until the ways of Bear become second nature to you. I promise that before I’m through you will act in mind and body as Bear.”

Afraid of upsetting Granbear, Meeko vowed, “I promise to work harder, but your lessons aren’t always so easy to understand.”

“Then just give me your attention without your opinions, Grandson. I’m concerned about your lack of respect for Medicine. If you keep going the way you are, you will never understand our ways.”

“Granbear, I know you’re right, but I can’t see how an animal can direct my life.”

In exasperation, Granbear answered, “Maybe if you would stop fighting and apply yourself to what you see, we would not be talking about your behavior!”

“Granbear, I try not to get angry and fight, but it’s the others who cause the problem not me,” argued Meeko.

“Meeko, Meeko. A fight starts in your thoughts before it comes through your fists. Stop fighting what’s outside and fight your inner battles. You can’t expect everyone to make you the center of their world. People are sick and tired of your temper tantrums. I will not talk with you anymore until you get out of your own way! Now, go away from me you bad person!” stated Granbear with cutting coldness as he got up and left the Medicine Wheel.

For the next two weeks, Meeko saw little of Granbear or Shadowhawk, and was happy to have the control of his time. He slept late each day and spent afternoons either girl watching or roaming around the reservation with his friends. But as time passed, he missed Granbear’s teachings. One day he found Granbear in the arbor and went to plead with him. “I know I was wrong. I promise I will show the proper respect and won’t interrupt you again. Please let me come back to learn the Medicine Wheel.” He then offered Granbear tobacco and sage.

Granbear took the gifts, knowing the time had come to resume their studies. He motioned Meeko to follow him to the Medicine Wheel. “Grandson, you are Bear Clan Sioux! It’s time you start honoring your ancestors by acting right! We Sioux want our children to become courageous warriors. That is the Bear way! Like Bear, we gather and store information for future generations. We eat bear meat to get his power, and honor him in all of our ceremonies. Some tribes believe that if they eat bear meat they would get sick and die.”

Then Granbear acknowledged, “Meeko, I know how you enjoy my stories, so if you promise to listen closely, I will tell you some of my favorite ones.” Meeko listened intently as his great-grandfather began another fascinating tale.

“Long ago, there was this strong Bear Clan brother who was a powerful bear hunter. Everyone admired but feared Bear Man, and most believed his blood had been replaced by Bear’s blood. Each time he brought a dressed-out bear into camp everyone would speak excitedly about his great bravery. Because I wanted to be like him, I started following him around camp, but always at a distance.

“Months passed, then one day he spoke to me about Bear power and said that a good bear hunter was very rare. For about two years I learned from his teachings. Then he gave me a perfect double-edged knife with a handle made from a large bear jaw, telling me to always carry this killing blade when I went alone into the woods. He told me that if I was ever attacked by a bear I must show no fear and respond to this sacred brother as an honorable warrior. I should move in close and stab him in the belly and chest until he fell to the ground. His words filled me with excitement and fear. Believe me, that Dog Soldier taught me that Bear will fight to the death, no matter whether it’s his opponent’s or his own. After hearing this, I was always cautious when I went into bear territory and was thankful that Bear never challenged me to a battle of life and death.

“One day I thought I was following Bear Man, but before I knew it, he had doubled back and silently walked up behind me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he offered to tell me the secret of killing a bear. ‘You must pray, then ask brother bear for his life, promising to always honor his ways. You must be very careful when you kill him. If you take his life correctly, he will not return and take away your spirit. The moment Bear is dying, you must be brave enough to kneel down and take his last breath. You must be very careful, or he may fool you and take your breath instead. If this happens and Bear kills you, you will lose your soul’. He also told me that when the breath ceremony was finished, I should skin the bear out and wrap myself in its hide to become Bear medicine. I was also told to cut off its soft paws and ask it to teach me how to dig for the sacred medicine roots. I was then to return to camp, taking all of its body parts to use in my honoring ceremonies.

“Ah, Grandson, once a person kills a bear, he becomes a Bear Warrior and a great healer. Bear medicine lets him know the secrets of the sacred herbs and the skills of bone setting. After earning these rights, he can make the claws into a special necklace to show everyone he is Bear.

“That great warrior taught me so much about the sacredness of Bear medicine. Anytime he killed, he did it right so he could fill himself up with the spirit of Bear. I remember him walking through the camp wearing his many bear symbols; the women lusted after him, the children followed him with excitement, and the men made sure he was their friend.”

For once Meeko had listened intently to Granbear’s every word. The old medicine man’s eyes twinkled as he walked away, leaving his grandson eager for more.

Early the following morning Meeko was waiting to join Granbear in his prayer ceremony. As the sun peeked over the horizon, Granbear put away his pipe and went back to the arbor to visit with his friends. Disappointed, Meeko entered the Medicine Wheel alone to reflect on what he had already learned about Bear.

It was late afternoon before Granbear returned and found Meeko still sitting in prayer. Pleased Granbear said, “Grandson, I left you this morning because Bear is a wanderer. Did you know Bear taught us the lessons of following the seasons by moving around? We learned when it was time to leave the land so it could heal itself from our stay. When the season was right, we’d always return to find Mother Earth once again full of life, ready to take care of her children.

“The great grizzly is called ‘Old Man of the Claw,’ and is also known as the ‘Son of Chiefs.’ As the Gatekeeper of the North, his job is to protect our ceremonies, rituals and medicines. Ah yes, the Son of Chiefs shows his power by his unpredictable ways. He is a strong, spiritual animal and one of the finest shape-shifters on Mother Earth, but he refuses to speak to anyone who doesn’t follow his ways of life. Once Bear knows that you have made strong boundaries against all your intruders, including your own bad thoughts, he will teach you. You must know who you are before he will come to you, and if you try to trick him, it will be you who will suffer the consequences.

“Today I’m going to tell you how my uncle introduced me to a female bear.”

Meeko was thrilled at the prospect of hearing another true story.

“It was a cold winter day when Uncle and I were out on a hunting trip. We had enough supplies to last for two weeks if we lived off the land. We had spent two hard days traveling into a whipping head wind, when suddenly the clouds dropped to the ground and we couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces. A moment later, Old Cold Maker covered the land with a blanket of snow. Uncle said that we were in grave danger and could go no further until the storm had stopped. He quickly built a lean-to while I looked for dry wood to start a small fire. There we sat, huddled together for warmth, waiting for Father Sky to clear.

“Uncle said, ‘Nephew, don’t worry. We can’t argue with nature. If this storm keeps up, it will drive all the bears into their dens to begin their winter sleep. And this is good.’ He went on to say that their wise mothers taught them to be good survivors.

“As winter went on, we traveled deeper into the mountains looking for bear signs. When we finally got to their territory, we set up camp and scouted for empty dens. Uncle spotted a bear in the distance and said we better get downwind and hide. I saw it stand upright and stretch one big paw into the wind, then sniff it. Uncle said in a loud whisper, ‘She’s checking to see if anyone has crossed her boundaries. I think she’s going to have babies this year.’

“Uncle felt I needed to learn more about women and that this she-bear would be my best teacher. He said that this bear could teach me how to relate to the spirit world and that I should begin my visionary work with her. Every day for weeks we visited that spot, so I could learn her ways. We even found her den, and Uncle was glad to see the cave was empty except for dried leaves and pine boughs.

“Before leaving the mountains, we ran into another blinding blizzard and set up camp to wait it out. As we sat by the fire talking, Uncle told me that since there would be plenty of snow to cover the bear’s tracks, she would probably head for her den soon. Within a week, Uncle said it was time to visit her again. When we got to the cave, she was curled up, drifting into her winter sleep and waiting to give birth.

“On one of our visits, Uncle told me that female bears have great wisdom when it comes to their children. He explained that female bears can control their body functions. He also told me that during hibernation they stop eating and eliminating waste, but their bodies continue to build bones and lean muscle. Their body temperature lowers, and the sugar and fat levels in their blood are the same as a person with the sugar sickness, diabetes. That’s when bears are most vulnerable.

“Bear uses its mind to control its every need. I was amazed when I learned that a female is able to control her pregnancies. Uncle explained to me that a she-bear will not bring a new life into this world unless she is in good health and there is plenty of food for her cubs in the coming spring. If not, she will stop the pregnancy and give birth at another time. Human females could learn much about being good women and mothers if they would follow the ways of Bear.

“One night sitting around our fire, Uncle told me that it was the male bear who chooses the cave for the family, but when the cubs are born, Mama Bear chases him away, so he won’t eat her babies. You see, Meeko, bear cubs and human cubs are not able to survive without their mothers. Both must be taught these skills if they are to carry on their race.

“Now, Mama Bear knows what it takes to become a good bear and she is very strict with her cubs for about two years. The difference in a human mama and a bear mama is that when Bear speaks, her children listen! If a cub does not heed her every command, she will instantly swing a mean paw and correct the situation. She takes great care to see that her cubs live and become strong old bears.

“I became very excited about visiting the bear to see if she had cubs. One day when we went to her den, Uncle noticed the snow was melting away from her body and whispered, ‘She will wake up soon. Just to be safe, let’s move to another spot.’ We climbed high above the cave until we reached a place where Uncle had carved a small hole in the stone right over her bed. He motioned for me to look inside, where I saw the she-bear and her two cubs. I was surprised to see the cubs were almost hairless and shaped like blobs. Then Uncle told me bears are blind at birth, and that the mother licks and molds them with her big paws until she shapes them into proper-looking bear cubs. Through the peephole, I watched this shaping and heard Mama Bear grunt as she worked. Uncle described her grunting sounds as a secret bear chant.

“Why, Meeko, even male bears fear she will go on the warpath and kill them if they dare come too close during that time. That evening Uncle warned me never to go near the cave entrance again unless he was with me because Mama Bears are very dangerous after giving birth.

“About two weeks after I first saw the cubs, Uncle told me we must hurry to the bear cave because he had dreamed Mama Bear would take her cubs into second birthing. You see, a bear is born from the darkness of Mama Bear’s womb into the darkness of Mother Earth’s belly. When the cubs reach a certain age, Mama Bear takes them out of the cave to enter first light on Mother Earth and that is called second birthing.

“That day we rushed to the top of the cave, then Mama Bear stepped out, and moved quickly away from the cave entrance with her cubs staying close as shadows. I heard her growl as one wandered from her side. When she slapped it with a thunderous paw, the cub screamed as it went tumbling ass over tin cup. Boy, was I thankful I wasn’t one of her cubs. From then on, those cubs mimicked her every move.

“Uncle decided to hang around for a few more weeks so I could watch Mama Bear teaching the new cubs. One day we saw her leave the cave without them, and after rubbing ourselves with dark, rich soil to give off an earthy smell, we scooted down to the entrance and looked inside. I had to hold back my laughter as we watched the cubs gnaw on the branches and twigs of their bed, playing with their feet and practicing their bear growls. Then, knowing Mama Bear would soon return, we went back to camp.

“Oh, Grandson, what pleasant memories I have of that beautiful spring and summer with Uncle and that bear family. I soon learned Mama Bear didn’t fool around when teaching. Work was work, and play was play. Each cub had definite duties to perform, and when one was defiant or lazy, she would knock it head over heels to get its attention. When this happened, the cub would run back to her, begging forgiveness. It took only a few of these harsh slaps for it to learn to stay close to her side. But I also knew her heart was warm toward her cubs. Bear teaches us to learn quickly and listen to what’s being said, so we can make good decisions.

“One sunny day I watched Mama Bear teach her cubs how to fish. Using their claws as fish hooks, they swept their forepaws through the water, quick as lightning. They also caught fish in their mouths and chomped them right down. Uncle explained that once they grew up, fishing would be about the only time they would tolerate each other. When those bear cubs were fishing, they taught me what real patience was. I pray for the day that you will get enough patience to catch what you want in life,” Granbear chuckled.

“By fall the cubs were roaming around alone. Uncle told me it was time to stop our visits because they were learning to check out each scent in their thirty-five mile territory. But despite his warning, one day I went close to my favorite cub and saw him stretch his paw into the wind and bring it back to his nose. He caught my scent and charged in my direction. Knowing his eyesight was poor, I ran downwind to get away. Uncle chuckled over my stupidity, saying, ‘I see you’ve learned to respect the boundaries of Bear.’

“I had bonded with this family of bears, and as the next winter came, I surely missed them. One day in early December while close to their territory, I spotted my favorite cub playing with an old water-soaked log down by the river. He kept throwing it in the air, and when he didn’t catch it, he got so angry that he would try to stomp it to pieces.

“As I grew older, I began to track Bear, looking for the highest and deepest claw marks on the trees to tell its size. Once I traveled beyond the timberline to follow a bear. That’s when I learned about Bear’s great endurance and need for space and solitude. Grandson, you must learn to respect everyone’s privacy if you expect to become one with Bear.

“Meeko, at first I too wanted to please my father and become a Dog Soldier like my older brothers. But Uncle saw me as Medicine and told me I was going to be a different kind of warrior. In time, he trusted me to go into the mountains to study Bear. Every year after that, I tracked Bear alone.

“My brothers, knowing that I was not a warrior, would always tease me about my fear of smacking a bear. Then one day I was given the perfect chance to prove them wrong. A bear was up a tree, stealing honey from the bees. I sneaked up on him and smacked him hard on the butt, then ran as fast as a scared deer all the way home. Believe me, Grandson, that was not an act of bravery, that was an act of stupidity! When I told Uncle what I had done, he grinned, saying, ‘Well, I bet your brothers won’t tease you again about being afraid of bears.’ Meeko, I believe courage is born from a coward dying a thousand deaths. As a child, I knew I would never become a bear killer. Besides, there were more than enough warriors in our camp wearing strings of bear claws and bear teeth around their necks.

“Once I had made up my mind to become Medicine, I went to Bear Man and told him that I wanted to learn how to track the Spirit of Bear. He said I was already a very brave Spirit Bear hunter and to prove it, he gave me my first bear necklace. Since bear claws are used as digging tools for gathering roots and herbs, he told me to wear them when I hunted plant medicines. He said if I would honor Bear in this way, he would always show me to the right plant medicines, and someday I would become a good healer. That wise old warrior taught me plenty about gathering courage to hunt Spirit Bear. And that was the sacred knowledge I needed to have to become Spirit Bear medicine.”

Meeko’s eyes were filled with awe and respect. “Grandson, since your birth I have studied you as my uncle studied me. I know you have courage and you are learning how to build strength and endurance. It makes me happy when I see you act as a good bear cub. I want you to walk as Bear, think as Bear, and be ready to change as quickly as Bear.

“Meeko, there are times when you act like Crazy Bear. I see you teasing the girls, and it makes me wonder if you aren’t mixing your blood with Coyote power. Everyone around here knows that you can be controlled by your stomach. But don’t worry, Grandson, before I’m through with you, you’ll be as proud as I am to be an Ole Bear. Look at me. I look like Bear, I think like Bear, and sometimes I even smell like Bear! Why, I wouldn’t have these handsome, long thick braids if it weren’t for bear grease.”

Granbear became serious. “I think it’s time we talk about your appearance. Your hair is a mess! If you don’t want to take care of it, why don’t we cut it off like a white boy’s?” With this, Granbear pulled out his bear knife. Shocked, Meeko quickly spit in his hands and smoothed his hair back with his fingers, tying it with a strip of deer hide he had pulled from his pocket.

“People who carry bear power are well aware of their good looks, so keep it that way. I advise you to be careful when flirting with girls for only a plate of cookies. Try to become their friend. That way, you will learn how a woman feels and thinks. I learned the hard way about being with a jealous Crazy Bear woman. You will find that female humans, like female bears, love the gentle and sweet things in life. Sometimes a man must suffer a few bee stings to get to that sweetness in a woman, but it’s worth the pain,” remarked Granbear, recalling some of the hard times he had with the women in his life.

“Granbear, can Bear medicine protect me from marrying a Crazy Bear woman?”

Amused, Granbear laughed. “It’ll be hard, Grandson.” Meeko blushed at his answer and together they walked to supper.

Meeko was feeling good about the day until he heard that some of Granbear’s old friends had come to visit. For the next three days, he could feel his jealousy returning and would go to the Medicine Wheel to wait for Granbear to come. Knowing he must rid himself of these bad feelings, he reflected on Granbear’s teachings, trying to connect with Bear. He began to mimic Bear’s growls and movements and soon he believed he was thinking like Bear. On the fourth day at sunrise, Meeko was happy to see Granbear coming to join him.

“Meeko, sometimes we must experience a near-death situation before we can understand the power of Great Spirit. I’ve known many great medicine people who could eat the poisonous bear root plant without harm, to bring on a trance-like state. These past few days, it made me proud to see you practicing the traits of Bear. If you keep working, you will build a strong relationship with Bear and will not need to use this root to talk to him. Bear has chosen you to be a Bear Dreamer if you keep up your hard work.”

Pleased, Meeko said, “Granbear, strange things have been happening to me. Bear has been walking on my mind. I’m seeing many things, but when I wake up I don’t remember most of them. Bear is telling me about animals, stones, trees, and the white man’s thinking. One white man told me he was moving the water. I don’t understand. Where do they move the water?”

“Behind a large wall they call a dam. It holds all the water where they want it to be, until they send it where they think it should be. The white man thinks Wakan Tanka made a bad plan and put everything in the wrong place.”

Meeko was amazed at the white man’s arrogance and questioned Granbear further. “What about Mother Earth?”

Impressed with the depth of Meeko’s question, Granbear answered, “Grandson, by the time you reach manhood, the waters and the air will be polluted. New dams will have been built that will change the courses of the rivers, shifting nature’s natural flow. Future generations will see many court battles over these uncaring ways. For some animals it will be too late, but like the bears they may be lucky enough to survive.”

“Granbear, do you think I could become strong enough to change things for Maka Ina and all her children?”

“Grandson, when you have enough insight you will understand how to correct these bad things. There are many battles you will fight for the good of all life if you are to serve Wakan Tanka’s wishes. And for this you’ll need a good education so you can change the laws and help all of Creator’s children. These same questions came to me when I was a young man learning about Bear. I also worried that the changes the white man was making would affect all life on Mother Earth.” Feeling he had given Meeko enough information for the moment, Granbear left the Medicine Wheel. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing his grandson deep in thought, he knew his words were having a profound impact.

The Medicine Wheel
Elk and Deer

One evening as Meeko left the pasture he saw Granbear in the arbor talking with Shadowhawk and joined them, eager to hear their conversation.

“Did you hear Night Stalker calling last night?” asked Granbear.

“Yes, that old Chief Bird was really talking. Made me wonder who the warning was for,” answered Shadowhawk.

“Night Stalker? Chief Bird? What kind of bird is that?” asked Meeko.

Shadowhawk gave Meeko a stern look for interrupting. But Granbear remarked, “It’s okay. He doesn’t know we’re talking about Owl.”

After Shadowhawk left to do errands, Granbear handed Meeko a stick, saying, “I’ve made this talking stick for you. Shadowhawk told me he explained to you its meaning, but it seems you have forgotten. When you see this stick in my hand, never speak unless I hand it to you.” Meeko nodded and dropped his eyes in respect, but he wondered why he could not speak as openly as others.

“Meeko, I find it interesting that Owl has caught your attention since he has night vision. He lives in the East Door of the Medicine Wheel and is the messenger for Yanpa, the East Wind. Long ago, when Yanpa was establishing his direction, he could not find his way through the night and cried out for help. Hearing this, Owl flew quietly over to see who was in trouble. When he saw it was Yanpa, Owl agreed to guide him through the darkness and help him establish his direction. For this good deed, Yanpa chose Owl to be his messenger. So, Meeko, if you’re ever lost, call upon Owl and he will guide you out of darkness.

“This night hunter teaches us about night vision. He can weave his way through a dense forest in complete silence, seeing where every sound comes from. Owl is conceited and loves to hear his name spoken. The old people say if you speak his Sioux name, Atsitsi, he will answer you. If you repeat it over and over in a gentle way, he will joyfully fly close and let you touch him.”

Reaching for the talking stick, Meeko asked, “You can actually touch an owl?”

Taking back the talking stick, Granbear replied, “Ah, yes. If you have the touch, Owl will share his magical powers with you. And if you carry Owl power, you can hear the thoughts of others. Long ago our warriors used Owl’s voice to bring the wisdom out of the darkness so they could signal their position to others as they moved into battle. You should also know that sometimes this enchanted one is called Night Eagle. Many fear he carries black magic and believe his feathers can make us very deceptive.

“One particular owl that people fear is the screech owl. They say he brings bad news and warns us of an approaching death. I remember one man who hated these owls so much that whenever he heard one, he would hunt it down and kill it. The last time I was in his house, an entire wall was lined with screech owl carcasses. Now, that’s a superstitious man! Personally, I feel kinda sorry for this little Stiginney. Makes me wonder if he’s going around doing normal owl business and gets himself killed just because people fear him.”

Picking up the talking stick, Meeko asked. “Can we talk about something besides death? It makes me afraid.”

“Meeko, lessons do not come as we wish, but as they are needed. You must learn to accept that death is a part of life, and we cannot change the time we are given to die.”

“I know, Granbear. I just don’t like the feeling of death being linked to Owl. Why, even his hoots make me feel sad and lonely.”

“Maybe Owl is trying to get you to reflect on your thoughts so that you never doubt your decisions. I think you need to speak with Owl so you will know what he means when he asks, ‘Who?’”

“I don’t want to learn about Owl, I just want to know how to say his name so I can touch him.”

“We’ll see, Grandson,” said Granbear, pointing the talking stick at Meeko as a reminder that he had spoken out of turn. Granbear walked home as Meeko submissively followed close behind.

Several days had passed when Granbear called to Meeko to follow him into the Medicine Wheel to continue yet another lesson. “The Gatekeeper of the East Door is He'aka, the Elk. He shares this sacred doorway with Moose, Deer, Antelope and all of the rest of the hoofed ones. Our history teaches us that these plant-eating creatures were our first meat, a sacred gift from Wakan Tanka.

“Although Elk is related to the deer family, he has a much larger brain, which gives him a greater ability to learn. He has special gifts of sight and hearing. He can see and hear better than any human and can instantly smell an unnatural odor in his territory.”

Reaching for the talking stick, Meeko said, “Shadowhawk once told me that Elk has a keen sense of smell and strong front legs for fighting. He warned me to always be careful around them. He once saw an elk kick a wolf so hard that it broke its back, then the elk stomped it to death.”

“He told you right. An Elk can kill a cougar, or even a grizzly, with his powerful front legs. When the bears awaken from their long winter’s sleep, they search for elk carcasses and live off the bones until the spring brings sprouting plants. That’s why we find very few elk bones returning to Mother Earth’s soil.

“Before the white man came, herds and herds of elk lived in the grassy meadows of the lowlands. But many were slaughtered with the constant raping of the land by farming and careless hunting. The white man then drove the surviving hoofed ones into the high country where they met Bear and Cougar, two very strong predators.

“Meeko, always be especially careful around a bull elk, he can be very dangerous when he senses his herd is in danger. At these times he bugles a warning so the herd can run to safety while he hangs back as a decoy. This great hoofed one will fight to his death to save his herd, and yet his face holds gentle, kind eyes. I like watching him stand on the edge of a high cliff, sniffing the winds as he surveys all that is around him. I can’t help but laugh as I see those long, skinny black legs holding up such a big body. Ah, Grandson, I’ve watched those legs jump over huge fallen trees and plow through the deepest of snow to escape danger. Why, Elk can run up to thirty-five miles an hour, and by pacing himself, can keep that speed for a long time. I’ve seen whole herds run full-out through a dense forest while maneuvering their huge racks with ease. What a sight to behold when he uses his speed as another defense. And Elk, like Buffalo, never changes his route of travel, even if he has to swim through frozen rivers to reach his destination. He'aka teaches us to pace ourselves in life so we too can reach our destiny.

“He'aka is truly one of the rulers of the forests all over the world. His beautiful hide is tough, and goes from shades of beige to black. This impressive four leg travels many miles to reach the lush green meadows that lie between the tall mountain peaks. This is the best place to find these grand creatures, standing knee-high in tender grasses enjoying the bounty of Mother Earth. Sadly, many hunters kill these sacred animals just to collect their racks as trophies to prove they have a power over this animal.

“Once a year elk lose their old racks and start growing new ones. We use their old racks to make jewelry, charms and medicines for ceremony. When elk’s new antlers break through the skin, they are soon covered with a soft velvety material that supplies the blood for the new growth. Elk rubs them against trees and bushes to remove this coating, and when they reach maturity the antlers harden into bone. I’ve seen racks weigh over sixty pounds and stretch a good six feet, carrying up to forty points. Meeko, can you imagine that short, thick neck carrying such a heavy load and still gracefully outrunning a hungry cougar?

“The males and females live together only during rutting season. The bulls are very competitive as they gather their harems, and will fight to the death to keep their females. Ah, Grandson, when I think of the bull elk’s strength, stamina, speed and courage during this season, I can’t help but be amazed by the beauty of such a passionate animal.

“I’ve witnessed many fights among the bulls, watching them prance around in circles, tearing up trees and the ground to show they are the best bull of the herd. They attract a female through touching and bugling. I’ve heard their beautiful low-throated voices riding the wind all night long. At first it sounds like a bugle that goes flat, then it starts all over again, getting louder and higher until it reaches a certain pitch, then the song ends in a short cough. When a cow hears this, she perks up her ears and goes running to that bull. So if you ever hear an elk call during that time, you will understand the true magical powers in Elk’s mating ritual.

“When a person carries Elk power, he is expected to accomplish his goals and above all take care of his women. Grandson, that wise old Elk can teach humans much about romance and passion. A man can learn many things about a woman if he knows the ways of Elk. I think you should learn the flute so you too can woo the women like Elk.”

Meeko giggled, wondering how Granbear, at his age, could ever think such things.

“Grandson, this noble animal is truly a master of lovemaking, but I kinda feel sorry for him during rutting season. Oh my, does he have problems with other males trying to steal his women! But he’s smart and herds his cows near a river that is wedged between hills. You see, an elk cow watches the handsome young ones, and like some women, she tends to wander off with one. Why, he’s so busy with his harem that he can’t take time to eat. Many bulls die happily during rutting season, knowing their bloodline will keep the future herds strong.

“I know the secret medicine of Elk,” whispered Granbear. Meeko’s ears perked up and he leaned close. “The old people say if you grind the antlers into a powder, it will bring back your sex drive. And if you secretly sprinkle some of this powder on a woman’s food or in her drink, she will love you forever,” chuckled Granbear, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little package which read ‘Elk Love Potion Medicine.’

Picturing a huge harem of beautiful girls catering to his every need, Meeko blushed, saying, “I don’t need that stuff! I know all the girls like me. Besides, I’m not gonna love just one woman—I’m gonna love them all.”

“Grandson, someday you may find much pain from that statement. When you can appreciate the power of one woman’s love, you may need this powder and even a string of elk teeth to keep her. I think you already need help with that silly harem that you’ve collected. But there will come a time in your life, Meeko, that you will tire of the many, and want real love from only one woman. In my experience, I think you should keep this powder for that one special lady that will come into your life someday.”

Meeko took the bag knowing Granbear was telling him to start controlling his flirtatious ways. As he set the bag aside, a strange chill ran over him as he thought about loving only one woman. He picked up the bag and placed it in his pocket, asking, “Granbear, did you ever capture love?”

Granbear grinned. “Oh yes, Grandson, I captured love many times but until I found the right woman I never knew love. My truth about love came from watching another’s pain. That’s when I knew I was not the only imperfect man in the world. Since those days, I’ve always carried a large bag of Elk powder to guarantee my success with women.”

Meeko cringed at the thought of Granbear ever having had the disease called warm.

Granbear saw his reaction and whispered close to Meeko’s ear, “Once, Meeko, I heard Elk’s slow, low-toned voice calling to me. I jumped out of bed, ran outside and saw a herd of females gathered around a striking bull that had mastered them with his haunting call. As long as I live, I will not forget that moment. I am thankful that Elk taught me the power of sweet speech when talking to a woman. That’s why many women find me irresistible,” boasted Granbear, showing Meeko a necklace of elk teeth. “Grandson, these teeth carry power, prestige, and the promise of a long life of warm.”

Meeko examined them closely, finding they were about the size of a man’s thumb. “Grandson, these teeth will outlast you. We collect elk teeth to give to our women to sew on their deerskin dresses. When I was young it was not unusual to see our women’s dresses covered with them. When a woman wore such a dress, it meant her man was wealthy and loved her dearly. But love, like the wind, comes and goes. So, when a man finds a good woman, he must take pride in his treasure. A man of honor will always open his heart as big as the sky to give his woman an honest, heartfelt love, because then he knows she will never be taken away from him. It is Elk who teaches us the importance of sharing ourselves and our passion.”

As they left the Medicine Wheel, Granbear smiled, saying, “Ah, Grandson, romance and love are good talking, but right now I’m hungry for food, not the company of a woman.” Feeling disappointed that the lesson on his favorite subject had been cut short, Meeko had to admit that his hunger did outweigh his need for the company of girls.

Early the next morning Granbear, Shadowhawk and Meeko drove to find a herd of deer to study. After reaching a deer habitat, Shadowhawk guided the others to the top of the hill, where they sat under a tree to wait. The sun was just breaking over the horizon when the misty profiles of a herd of white-tail deer slowly filled the meadow below.

“Today we are here to observe the deer people. We humans have much in common with these hoofed ones. Look at those very intelligent, gentle souls. Since the white-tailed deer eats in the day, we know it carries the daytime powers, unlike the black-tail deer that feeds at night and carries the nighttime powers. Deer families live by the laws of a matriarchal society. Deer, like elk, are also swift runners and graceful jumpers. I’ve seen huge herds swim great distances without ever showing tiredness. These beautiful plant eaters also have keen hearing and smell.”

“Granbear, is it true that they are colorblind?”

“I’ve heard that,” answered Granbear, tapping the talking stick to remind Meeko to be quiet. “See their tails flagging? That’s how they communicate. The herd knows we’re here. If they sense danger, they will lift their flaring tails, then give off a high, nasal whistling sound and start running to safety.

“Deer are very elusive and sure-footed. These hoofed ones are shape-shifters and many hunters claim they can vanish before your eyes. That’s why it’s necessary to become a clever tracker before hunting. A good hunter knows how to read the signs and track everything in nature. Shadowhawk, since you’re a fine hunter, tell our grandson what it takes to become as good as you,” requested Granbear, handing Shadowhawk the talking stick.

Leaning against a tree, Shadowhawk smiled, “Grandson, when I was learning to hunt, I made many mistakes. I was ignorant and wanted too much too fast. I’ve let many a deer lead me astray, and the slightest sound can start a herd running. When this happens, it’s time to go home and hunt another day.” Shadowhawk picked a blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth, before continuing. “Deer power teaches us to never waste time by following false images about ourselves. To remove clouds of doubt, we must place our lives in the trusting hands of Wakan Tanka. We must recognize the sacredness in all things before ever thinking of taking a life.

“There is much you must consider before you can ever become a good hunter. First, you must remember the spirit of the hoofed ones. It was Deer that gifted the people with their first animal food. The people promised this creature that if it would die so they could live, they would always show respect and make sure its death was swift and painless.

The Medicine Wheel
Cougar

“Tunka'shila sits in the heart of every child, no matter if it is a two leg, a four leg, or a creepy crawly. Because this is so, they listen with a loving and curious heart while following Tunka'shila’s voice. In the beginning of life, that’s how babies are. They quickly learn who their natural enemies are so they can survive on Mother Earth. Like any other child, Grandson, you must keep Tunka'shila close to your heart if you expect to have a good life,” said Granbear, loading his pipe and asking Meeko to join him in a healing smoke.

When the ceremony was completed, Granbear offered the ashes to the four directions, saying, “For now, think on my words and see how they affect what you have experienced in your young life.” Granbear left the Medicine Wheel, telling Meeko to think of what he must do to become a good human.

Early the following morning, Meeko sat waiting as Granbear joined him in the South Door of the Medicine Wheel and said, “Today we open the last doorway of the animal traditions in the Medicine Wheel. “Grandson, Cougar and Bear are bitter enemies, but if both are starving, they will share a meal. As you have found, Cougar takes charge of its life. When you can walk in silence with the power of Cougar, you then can say you have control of your life. As long as you use common sense, Cougar will speak to you with these words, ‘I got mine, now go get yours.’

“Cougar teaches that truth brings the power to make us independent, alert and aware of our surroundings. If you want to be a leader, Cougar demands you value your freedom and enjoy solitude. Grandson, becoming a leader does not mean that others will follow you.

“Long ago, some of our medicine people lived alone in isolation and collected Cougar bones and paws for healing the sick and wounded. Most people feared them because they were truthful and defended their convictions, regardless of the consequences. Cougar taught them that if they had the slightest fear, they would lose their Cougar medicine. If you choose to follow the way of Cougar, know it will be a hard journey.

“Meeko, I have always known you to be fascinated by the big cats. But I warn you, once you touch Cougar power, she will destroy you if you do not use her medicines to eat the habits that have caused you so much pain. Only you can call on the power of Cougar, but you’d better have the courage to awaken her in your heart when you do. Cougar will not live in a coward’s heart. You must know how to focus on your spiritual strength to achieve self-love and self-respect.”

“Granbear, how will I know if Cougar will accept me?”

“Grandson, I too know about bad feelings. I remember a sad, lonely night when my first wife left me for another man while I was hunting. I found some cat droppings, and decided to track this killer. I shape-shifted and became Cougar, and found out my prey was female because I could feel her in my body. My mind was totally absorbed in finding that cougar when I saw a faint trail left by her long, moving tail. I knew she was hunting and totally absorbed in her next kill.

“Suddenly a bloodcurdling scream came from behind me. She was so close that I thought the earth had opened up and a thousand demons had risen from the ground to devour my soul. I was in serious trouble because that cougar was now tracking me! She let out another loud scream and, believe me, I was so scared I froze in my tracks. Then silence! I knew she was crawling on her belly, inching closer to me. Then I let go of my fear and charged her, running past her as fast as I could, until I entered my house. She jumped onto the old roof and clawed at it, tearing it open. Knowing that cougar is afraid of fire, I took the kerosene lamp and held it up to the roof.

“I didn’t sleep a wink that night and was thankful when the sun came up. I was still so afraid she might be near that it took me almost half a day to go outside. Meeko, I sure learned a good lesson from that big cat that night. After that, I never went near Cougar again, whether she was raising babies or not. So remember, if you ever meet Cougar, make plenty of noise and fight unless you want to die. Cougar teaches confidence and demands you stand up for your life without hesitation, doubt, guilt, or fear! And do it with dignity!

“I want you to truly understand the powers of a female cougar. We call her Igmu, and she is the Gatekeeper of the South Door. Some people call her Mountain Lion, or Screamer, and to others she is known as Puma, or Panther. No matter what she is named, Igmu protects all the medicines of the South Door. This fierce, mysterious lady shows very little emotion, but that does not mean she has no feeling. She shares her emotions only with those she chooses.

“Cougar has no patience with stupid or stubborn people. She trusts no one and holds a defensive attitude at all times. That’s why this loner is always patrolling and marking her territory with piles of dirt, mixed with leaves and twigs that she has pissed on. To find her, you would have to climb the highest mountain, search deep in the desert canyons, or cut your way through the dense tropical jungles.

“Cougar is fascinating. Her sleek coat ranges in color from ash-beige to a grayish silver, or even golden brown. When sunlight touches her body, the colors blend into the many different shades of Mother Earth. Her black-tipped dark brown tail that she uses for balancing, resembles a thick rope about the size of a man’s forearm. The old people say that her whiskers bring good luck to artists, but I don’t think Cougar will give one up too easily. She uses them to measure spaces to feel if they are big enough for her body to enter safely. The muscles in her shoulders and legs ripple with power, and she is always prepared to stalk or attack. This animal commands attention since no other has such confidence. It must be this that attracts so many admirers. Meeko, don’t you wonder how she got this kind of power?”

“Granbear, I thought she was just born that way.”

“No, as a baby she has to be taught to be Cougar. Then she teaches humans many things. If they want to be successful, they must leap forward and grab every opportunity that comes their way. She has purpose behind every action and, if attacked, will not hesitate to fight to her death. Cougar always does what Cougar does, no matter the price.

“My brother once told me that her hind legs were slightly longer than her forelegs, making her walk with a slight sway that I thought was funny. I once saw Cougar use those hind legs to leap off a high boulder. She stretched her body out like she was flying and landed perfectly. I’d never seen such power in my life!

“Grandson, you don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of Cougar’s claws because one swat can bring serious injury or death. One time I saw Cougar stalk an elk. She slunk forward inch by inch toward her prey, often freezing in place, her tail twitching back and forth. Suddenly, as fast as lightning, she sprang onto that elk and broke its back, then ripped its neck open with her swift claws. Cougar does give a merciful death.

“Cougar can also teach us about romance and relationships, although her many courtships are still strange to me. She mates about every two years, romancing several possible mates, then picking the strongest one. You never want to be near her during this time because violent fights break out among the males and many are injured or killed. Once she becomes pregnant, she chases her mate off, finds a shelter, lines it with dead leaves, then waits for her babies to be born. Cougar cubs are born blind, but in about two weeks their eyes open to their new world. Their little bodies are covered with tiny black spots that disappear in about six months.

“Like Bear, a mother cougar raises her cubs alone. When they are about two months old, she takes them out, still bringing them food while she trains them to hunt for themselves. Recognizing her voice—that goes from a hiss to a growl to a loud purr to a scream—they know when she makes a shrill, whistling sound, she is warning them of danger. Her cubs live with her for about two years, before she demands they get their own territories to begin the cycle all over again.

“Cougar’s special senses are keen hearing and eyesight. Her small round ears move, taking in sounds from all directions. Likewise, she can expand her pupils to fill her entire eye, giving her powerful night vision. Cougar is an excellent hunter usually killing her prey in the early morning or the late evening. She is very wise and only kills the old, the weak or the sick among the deer, elk, moose, wild sheep, goats, rabbits, wild turkeys and ground squirrels. Like a house cat, Cougar hates getting wet. But if a duck is near and Cougar is hungry, she’ll become a swimmer real quick. I’ve seen her powerful jaws grab a duck out of the water, then sinking her long sharp teeth through it, she will tear it to pieces in seconds. Now, that’s what I call a quick dinner,” chuckled Granbear.

“This silent-footed one is clever and shows us how to have our own territory while living on Mother Earth. Cougar knows nature’s secrets and is truly the master of her world. She is feared, hated and loved. When you meet her in Shadow World, she will share those deep mysteries with you. But if you enter her domain with fear, she will capture your soul. The solitary life of this mountain lion is sheer, raw power that is always in control,” concluded Granbear, reminding Meeko as they left the Medicine Wheel to spend time in Shadow World visiting this mysterious lady of the night.

For the next four days, Cougar seemed to walk on Meeko’s mind. Once he felt her eyes piercing him and grew afraid, pulling himself out of Shadow World in a cold sweat. But with the next encounter, he forced himself to face this open-mouthed Cougar. Hearing Meeko scream in terror, Granbear rushed in and remarked, “I see Cougar has walked on your mind.”

“Yes, Granbear, I’ve never been so afraid.”

“Grandson, Mountain Screamer is making you feel what’s in your soul. You fear her because you do not accept that you have fear in your life. The human race and the big cats avoid each other because humans do not want to face their truth and expose their weaknesses.

“Igmu is hunted by Bear, Wolf, Coyote and other big cats, but her greatest predator is man. Humans hunt this mysterious creature because they fear her and want to pretend they have her power. Using trained dogs and guns, men drive Cougar up a tree and shoot her down, proudly claiming their bounty and boasting of their bravery.

“Grandson, I teach you these things so you can become a good spiritual human and use the sacred powers of the animals to serve others. Without knowledge of people and animals, you cannot recognize beings with these kinds of powers. Someday when you become an artist, you will need to know these things if you are to paint what the spirits tell you.

“Ah yes, Grandson, all animals can teach you about relationships with yourself and others. But when you build a relationship with Cougar, you will understand the kind of relationship you can have with another while having your own freedom. The day will come when you choose a mate. If she is destructive, Cougar would say, ‘Let go of the emotional ties and do what is right for you.’ Cougar demands that you leave any relationship or thing that is destructive to you.

“Look at how destructive Renna has been with you. Cougar would quickly demand that you take control and never allow anyone to use your emotions against you. Meeko, let your emotions be yours, not what someone forces on you. As Cougar, you may sometimes feel cut off from the world; but by using Cougar’s intelligence, competitiveness and love of solitude, you can act correctly—if your beliefs and convictions are strong enough.

“The Medicine Wheel teaches us there is a time for everything in life. A time to pray. A time to fight. A time to play. A time to be gentle. A time to love. A time to talk. A time to be silent. And always time for the betterment of yourself. Now that’s Indian Time.

“In everyone’s life there are times for change. When I was young, I loved a woman who was like Renna. After six months of marriage, I felt I could not live without her. But she loved another, and I lost my home, my self-respect and my self-love. That was a lonely time in my life, and I felt there was no reason to live. I even forgot about Wakan Tanka. If I had listened to my heart, I would have heard Cougar saying it was time for me to take back my feelings, just as you must do with yours for Renna. It is time to get back the feelings that were ripped from you. Once you rid your mind of your bad feelings toward her, you will be free of the hatred in your heart and can begin to rebuild your feelings of love and respect. I believe Great Spirit put you with her to teach you to be strong and free. Now, that’s Cougar power!

“Let’s look again at the Sacred Medicine Wheel, and tell me how you use the animals to know people.”

Meeko sat up straight and said, “The West People, like Eagle, teach me to fly high and see the bigger picture, so I can look into the future and see a problem coming. Wanbli Gle'ska, takes my prayers to Wakan Tanka, and if I sit in Shadow World long enough, I will be given all the knowledge I need. Eagle tells me that I can develop the ability to get through hard times without getting caught up in bad feelings and demands that I seek my true self. Indian Time means no time. It’s how I spend my time that counts. If I use my creativity to find Wakan Tanka, I will have power and confidence in every song and prayer. Eagle says I must speak in truth and be watchful, and follow the cycles of the seasons. Once I find the rhythm of life and understand nature, my quest will always grow by my knowledge. My heart has to be healed before I can dream with hope. If I want to call upon the spirits, I have to find the doorway to them through praying, drumming, singing and dancing.

“The North People, like Bear, teach me not to cross their boundaries. Buffalo says I must be kind and giving to all life. I must learn to get past my feelings and hunt for the spiritual fire in each person. When I’m following Wolf, I have to be a loyal family member of the Bear Clan people and unite all of them to do what is best for the tribe. But I need to always be very careful if I am talking to the trickster, Coyote.

“The East People, like Elk and Deer, teach me to love myself in spirit and have a forgiving heart.

“The South People, like Cougar, teach me to get rid of my sad feelings and remember I always have the right to make good choices in my life. Cougar will give me the power to control my feelings. It is the warmth from my heart that makes me happy and that’s when Cougar will let me be an artist.”

“Very good, Grandson. Come, look at the sky and let that blanket of stars cradle you in life,” commented Granbear, pleased that his lessons were taking effect.

“Granbear, while I was searching my mind for Cougar, she gave me a dream. I heard a flute playing while I was painting a woman’s face. I seemed to know her.”

“Is that so, Grandson? Maybe this woman will believe in your art and give you a cougar whisker. I know someday you will see people’s traits as surely as you’ll be able to express your feelings, and that’s when you will be an artist.”

“Granbear, are you telling me that someday I will see people like animals?”

“Absolutely! Their traits are easily recognized. Some people, like some animals, are very sociable. Others are like the cats and don’t want to be bothered. Some have a great confidence, while you must approach others very carefully because they don’t know who they are. A good artist can see these things and paint their meanings with deep emotion. But until you learn to accept your own feelings, you won’t be able to paint any emotion. Don’t let your sadness eat away your peace. Once you realize that knowledge is not repeating the words, but becoming the words, you will see that the sun shines equally on everything. When this happens, you will feel the special love in all of Wakan Tanka’s creatures.

“Meeko, free yourself from what imprisons you. Let this Medicine Wheel training become your guide in all walks of your life. Breath is the secret passageway to enter Shadow World and that is where you go to find all of your answers. You were born from the land and you will return to the land, but know that your soul will live forever far beyond the pines.”

Chapter 8
Boy Training

“Granbear, if I chose to walk the Sundance way, would it help me build a stronger pipe?”

“Meeko, many things are considered when learning to track the beast that lives inside. The Sun Dance teaches us to track ourselves and return with all knowledge of our soul’s existence. A good Sundancer tracks himself without disturbing another’s world, just as Shadowhawk tracks animals without disturbing the land. Each of us finds our own way.”

That night Meeko lay awake reflecting on the potential growth that might await him if he became a Sundancer. Long before dawn the next morning, he joined Shadowhawk to help gather firewood for a sweat. “The Inipi reminds us to always give thanks to Wakan Tanka for all life and pray for spiritual guidance in all that we do,” said Shadowhawk.

“Shadowhawk, I wonder if I could Sundance this year?”

“Have you discussed this with Granbear? You know you must pledge one year before participating in the Sun Dance. Did you do this?”

“No,” confessed Meeko. “But I would like to dance while Granbear is still alive.”

“That would be a good thing. We’ll pray over this in tonight’s Inipi.”

Three weeks before the Sun Dance, Meeko helped set up security, placing a long pole across the road to control the entrance. As he did so, Shadowhawk outlined the rest of his duties. “You must know everyone who enters, and no matter who it is, search every vehicle for alcohol, drugs, or cameras before putting a red cloth on the antenna.”

Coming home from a hard day’s work, Meeko was surprised when Granbear handed him his piercing ropes. Knowing this meant he had been sanctioned to Sundance, Meeko thanked Granbear profusely and hurried off to ask an old grandmother to make him a Sundance skirt.

The night before the Sun Dance, the grounds were filled with many new tipis and tents. Very early the next morning forty men went to get the sacred cottonwood tree that had been selected the year before. Shadowhawk motioned two men to climb up and place ropes among its branches to keep the tree from touching the ground as it fell. As the men carried the sacred tree on their shoulders back to the Sundance circle amidst much singing, an old Sundancer invited Meeko to join them. Thrilled to be one of the new pledgers, he sang proudly along with the group. When they entered the sacred circle, Shadowhawk invited Meeko to walk by his side to the front of the tree.

Granbear met them with his Staff of Life and placed the tobacco, buffalo meat and water into the hole that had been dug for the sacred tree. The people lined up to give flesh offerings as they prayed. Many prayer flags and tobacco ties were placed in the tree’s branches, while Shadowhawk hung the handmade leather images of a bull buffalo and a man. He then placed four Chokecherry branches into the tree to symbolize abundance for the world, while the Sundancers fastened their piercing ropes to the tree. Following Granbear’s signal, the men stood the sacred tree in the hole. As the wind slowly began to dance with the colorful prayer flags, Meeko stood next to Granbear and felt a power growing from the joyous faces of the people.

Later as Meeko wandered through the campgrounds, the grandmother presented him with a beautiful blue Sundance skirt on which was painted a bear face with many ribbon streamers. Granbear joined them, admiring her work, then handed Meeko his piercing sticks along with an eagle fan and an eagle bone whistle.

Meeko entered the Sundancers’ lodge and began to twist pieces of sage into wreaths, wrapping them carefully with blue material. He made one for his head, two for his wrists, and two more for his ankles.

“My name is Crow. Is this your first year to dance?” a stranger asked.

Feeling insecure, as he noticed the many scars on the man’s chest, legs and back, Meeko said softly, “Yes.”

“You’ll do fine,” encouraged Crow.

Following the sweat the next morning, Meeko silently went with the others to the Sundance tipi and dressed for his first day in a Sundance circle. Crow smiled and placed a Golden Eagle feather on each side of Meeko’s head, saying, “These eagle feathers will help you be strong through your first Sun Dance.”

When Meeko walked into the Sundance circle, skirts of many colors came alive with the rising sun. The symbols of Eagle, Bear, Buffalo and Lightning Man moved on the garments as the drums called to the dancers. The high-pitched sounds of their eagle bone whistles connected the dancers as they raised their eyes toward the sun. Meeko blew his eagle bone whistle with every step, letting his feet glide to the rhythm of the drum’s beat. At the end of the first endurance, Meeko left the circle to go and rest under the arbor where Granbear quietly acknowledged that he was doing well.

A helper approached each dancer offering them burning cedar. Meeko inhaled deeply to feel the smoke’s power touch his soul. When the dancers returned to continue the Sun Dance, Crow walked over to the Tree of Life and lay down on a bed of sage. Shadowhawk knelt over him and pierced Crow on the right and left side of his chest, placing his hanging sticks through each slit. After his ropes were hooked over these sticks, he stretched his arms outward as they hoisted him up into the tree. There he hung for the rest of the day. Slowly Anpetu, the red that shines at twilight, painted its colors across the evening sky signaling for the serene glowing Crow to be lowered to the ground.

As Meeko tried to sleep that night many pictures danced on the back of his eyelids. He saw people of long ago being pierced at the tree, dragging behind them as many as twelve Buffalo skulls hooked to their backs. He cried with joy, knowing that he was gathering power in the same way as his ancient ancestors had done long ago.

On the second day, Meeko danced in view of Crow, who was once again hanging in the sacred Tree of Life with outstretched arms looking directly into the sun. That evening as Meeko listened to other dancers complain of hunger, thirst, exhaustion and sunburned bodies, he was thankful that Granbear and Shadowhawk had prepared him well.

On the third day prayers were said for the fallen dancers who were either taken to the tree to rest or left to sit with their heads bowed in shame. Granbear or Shadowhawk spoke for a long time with the dancers as they left the circle. Meeko was exhausted and worried if he could continue.

Crow, reading his thoughts, encouraged him, saying, “Once I too, was afraid of piercing, but I wanted to dance for the people. I found that Father Sun offers his rays to climb upon. After they paint the red piercing circles on your chest, go to the powers of Wakan Tanka, and when you are pierced you won’t feel anything.”

On the fourth day, Meeko entered the Sundance circle with two red circles painted on his chest which indicated to the Sundance leader where he wished to be pierced. Mid-afternoon he noticed an eagle flying overhead and remembered his first call from Eagle. ‘How high can you fly, Meeko? How high do you dare fly?’ He felt a strength beyond his knowing surge through him as he glanced toward the tree to see Crow break free from the ropes. Crow dropped to the ground and landed on his feet with a peaceful face that reflected spiritual beauty. In the traditional way Crow ran clockwise four times around the circle then returned to the line of dancers. Meeko, inspired by Crow who looked at him with spirit eyes, left the line to be pierced.

As Meeko lay down on the bed of sage, the appointed grandmother caressed his forehead and spoke to him encouragingly. Granbear placed a bundle of sage in his mouth as Shadowhawk pinched his skin, lifted it from his chest and slipped a knife into it. Shadowhawk helped Meeko to his feet and carefully hooked the ropes to the sticks now protruding from his chest.

The ropes pulled against his flesh, causing a burning sensation. Meeko stood still until his body adjusted to the pain, then danced toward the tree, placing both hands on it in prayer. The tree came alive, its bark felt like soft skin and its movements like human breath. Meeko blew his eagle bone whistle as the beat of the drums drove his pounding feet. Four times he danced to and from the sacred Tree of Life, causing the ropes to stretch his skin outward from his chest as he filled his heart with the strength of Great Spirit.

The last time Meeko danced away, he held his head high and faced the sun, staring unflinchingly as he rode its rays. He danced backwards until his skin stood out four inches from his chest and yet he felt no pain. All of a sudden his skin tore free and the piercing sticks flew into the air as his spirit soared. Meeko ran at breakneck speed four times around the circle, with many friends and family following behind to honor him.

When he returned and stood at the sacred Tree of Life, Granbear smiled proudly and handed Meeko the pieces of his flesh wrapped in a square of red cloth. Shadowhawk took special herbs and mixed them with tobacco to fill Meeko’s open wounds. After resting for a moment at the tree, Meeko returned to the line of Sundancers, moving stronger than ever.

Chapter 9
Meeko Learns to Fly

Upon arrival at the Sisseston, South Dakota Indian Orphanage, Meeko felt apprehensive when he found most of his old friends were gone. As he walked over the grounds, he found nothing had changed except that the faded facility looked even more weathered. The same bigoted sisters were still in charge, assigning the same demeaning chores to the residents.

Meeko hated the structured rules and recognized that most of these discarded children did not know the difference. He looked to Father Sky and wished the others could know of their people’s glorious past. Feeling alone and unsure, he walked to a nearby field. He could feel the influence of Granbear in every wildflower and tree. Even the winds seemed to speak to him of the medicine man’s spirit in all things.

After weeks of struggling to make a decision, Meeko realized if he was to ever fulfill his dreams, he must find his own pathway through this complex organization. He thought carefully before he spoke to Father Hanby. Meeko sat across the massive desk from the priest and stated, “Father, I chose to return here to get an education to help fulfill my dreams, but your classes are too limited. It’s a constant battle inside of me. I want to learn everything. Still, I don’t understand why my people’s ways are not taught since there are no white kids here. Why can’t we also learn about our God?” Then he explained the medicine people’s belief that all gods are one.

Father listened, yet remained stoic, saying, “Meeko, I do not question nor do I care about the gods of your people. Surely you know you cannot live in two such diverse cultures at the same time. Here, there is no choice. You learn our way or leave. Stop living in the Indian world, I think that is what’s confusing you.”

Meeko realized the situation was hopeless; he thanked Father Hanby for his time and left the room. To stay here, I must live in their world. To go back to the reservation means no education. There’s got to be a way. Why can’t I use what I know to live in both worlds?

Meeko knew he had to play the white man’s game if he wished to fulfill his dream. After several weeks of pondering and planning he approached the other Sioux students and persuaded them to establish an underground study movement so they could focus on their heritage. The group met secretly in the library, where they would research their history. However they soon discovered that the library contained little material about their culture, at which point they continued their studies by sharing their history orally.

Running had helped him focus and integrate his physical and mental abilities, so Meeko decided to discuss the possibility of establishing a running program with Father Hanby one afternoon. To Meeko’s surprise, Father Hanby agreed that a running program would be good exercise, and Meeko volunteered to share his skills with the other students.

Within three weeks Father Hanby saw Meeko’s leadership abilities were causing the students to question his authority and he began to regret his decision. He immediately removed Meeko and took over the new running program himself. This caused Meeko to rebel against Father Hanby’s teaching methods, and as an outlet for his frustrations with the system, he started running everyday before daybreak. It felt good to re-discover that he could fend off fatigue and develop a more peaceful attitude by being in his Indian mind. As he began to process new thoughts, every snow covered day seemed more beautiful than the last. And as his speed increased, he moved beyond his fear toward a heightened awareness of natural phenomena.

Early one Saturday morning while watching the rays of the sun pierce the shadows and cast a glowing radiance across the hills, Meeko knew his soul had connected to the day in a ceremonial way. As Wi’s hand nobly reached down and gracefully scattered the frozen fields with many shining diamond-like crystalline patterns, a voice emanated from somewhere deep inside and his loneliness cried out for something beyond what was there. Meeko remained enveloped in the power of an unknown presence until the cold air penetrated his wet shirt and brought him back to reality.

Spring had finally arrived and Meeko was just finishing his morning run. He drove his hands deep into his pockets, tucking his head into his chest as he struggled against the wind that was kicking up loosely plowed ground. Each day for the past month he had sat on an old stump watching with curiosity the changes a farmer was making to his newly planted fields.

But on this morning things were different. There were trailers, trucks and planes moving in on the far side of the field. A water truck caught his attention as it moved at a snail’s pace toward a makeshift hangar in the far distance. By noon Meeko had gathered enough courage to walk near the ground crew that was mixing crop-dusting chemicals. The foul odor of sulfur that drifted his way caused him to wrinkle his nose as he wondered what they were doing.

He heard engines revving up in the distance and felt their guttural sound churn deep inside his stomach as he walked to the edge of the dirt landing strip where two crop-dusting planes were jockeying into place. The winds were building power, and Meeko felt a certain excitement in their defiance. One by one, the planes lifted from the ground with gut-wrenching roars of explosive energy. Meeko felt connected to them as if they were kindred spirits. It was like watching a pack of wolves readying for the hunt, knowing they would catch the prey of the day.

Meeko spotted Jake, a pilot he had met while running, and waved then walked near. “Hey, Meeko, long time no see. Can you believe this wind? It’s definitely gonna be squirrelly today,” said Jake, zipping up his jacket. “What are you doing out here without a jacket?

Meeko was offended and took a cocky stance. He glared at Jake before answering sarcastically, “I don’t need a jacket. We Sioux don’t feel the cold.” Inwardly he wondered who in the hell did that white man think he was?

Jake continued to pre-flight his plane as Meeko stood in awkward anger. After thinking over the situation, he realized Jake had spoken from a white man’s point of view and let it go, saying, “I don’t own a jacket.”

“Sorry,” answered Jake.

“No problem. Have a safe flight,” replied Meeko, stepping away from the plane.

He watched Jake climb aboard Seven Two Charlie, open the side window and yell, “Clear.” Meeko saw him pat Seven Two Charlie on the panel before hitting the starter button. The engine sputtered, then kicked over and burst into a loud, thundering roar. Jake scanned the panel, kicked the rudder pedals and flipped the ailerons then taxied toward the runway.

Meeko ran across the field to an old broken-down fence and climbed up for a better view. Enthralled, he watched the plane respond to Jake’s every command, and thought someday he could learn to respect this man’s knowledge. Jake pushed the throttle to full bore, and Meeko smiled as Seven Two Charlie roared rapidly down the dirt strip. Meeko quietly offered tobacco to the spirits as he prayed for Jake to have a safe flight.

The plane was squirrelly as Jake fought the strong quartering winds that lay hard against Seven Two Charlie’s nose. Lifting the left wing into the air, Jake threw her into a skid and pulled back on the stick, bouncing her sideways into the air. The engine let out an eerie scream and Meeko’s stomach trembled as he held his breath. Jake popped her nose down to gather the air speed he needed, then up into the sky they climbed. He turned sharp, dropping the right wing when he entered the flight pattern. At that moment, Meeko knew Jake was a kindred spirit of Eagle, and wondered when he had heard the call.

Jake came in hot over the field, barely missing the tops of the trees as he dropped very fast under the power lines. Meeko listened to the growl of the engine as he watched the flag boy line up his flags to guide Jake safely through his first pass. Steady and forward, he directed the flags. Jake poured on the coal and dropped close to the ground. He opened the spray jets at the beginning of the run, and Meeko could see him giving a thumbs up as he left the field to ready for another pass.

Meeko was intoxicated with the whole process. Jake and Seven Two Charlie were indeed partners. As the chemicals floated down in a showered mist, Jake just barely cleared the tall trees that loomed at the far end of the field. Meeko watched the spiral of the invisible vortex move the leaves on the trees, then raised a clenched fist toward the sky, yelling, “Now that’s Eagle power!” He was impressed that Jake could thumb his nose at danger, and knew the pilot was not only riding with horse power but also the spirit of the flying ones. The sky people were guiding man and machine in a choreographed waltz of simplistic beauty. Meeko could feel the connection between Jake and his plane, and he wanted to explore how they had become one in spirit.

Meeko knew that for a white man Jake was different because he honored the winds and was connected to Father Sky. He felt the winged ones had given him these capabilities, otherwise why would he have chosen to challenge the sky? He saw Jake as a free spirit, merely using Seven Two Charlie to control the invisible unbridled power of the winds, and this oneness fed Meeko’s dreams with ambitious flames. He concluded that Jake was precision in motion, and from that moment learning to fly from this man became one of his dreams.

As days drifted into weeks Meeko spent all of his spare time watching the crop-dusters launch into euphoric pleasures in the air. But when each day ended, he was forced to return to the orphanage where he kept his heart in seclusion, just waiting for the next day to arrive. He was determined to maneuver his way into a job, any job, just as long as he could become a part of their flying world. Everyone at the makeshift hangar soon knew “the hang-around Indian kid.” Meeko silently vowed to become connected to the flying world and made friends with all the flag boys, pilots and crew, taking every opportunity to assist Jake whenever needed.

When the sun went over down in the South Dakota sky, Jake taxied into his tie down spot and killed the engine. Meeko grabbed the ropes and tied the plane down. “Thanks, buddy,” said Jake as he walked away and turned his attention to the crew. “I noticed some bees at the end of the runway. That’s a sign a front’s moving our way. They looked pretty thick for this time of year, so we’d better fly tonight if we expect to beat the weather. It’ll probably hit sometime tomorrow.”

As Jake hopped into the jeep he noticed Meeko still leaning against Seven Two Charlie’s struts and said, “Hey, Meeko, how’d you like to join me for dinner? I’m hungry as an old bear.” Meeko had not heard that expression since he left the reservation and he jumped at the invitation, thinking it was a good sign.

Heading toward town Jake said, “Need a flag boy. I think you’ve got the knack to be a good one.” Meeko’s heart raced with excitement. Minutes later they stopped in front of a small, plush restaurant bearing a sign that read, “Fine Food and Spirits.” Meeko had never been in such an elegant place, although on occasion he had peeked through the windows. Aware that the restaurant was for white people, he felt out of place but was curious to see if they would serve an Indian. The waitress led them to a candle-lit back booth, then courteously handed a menu to Jake and tossed another on the table for Meeko. He glared at her and she promptly returned the gesture. Jake, ignoring the situation, ordered two large steaks and a bottle of red wine.

“Tell me about yourself and what you want to do with your life.”

Although Meeko felt uncomfortable with Jake’s questioning, he wanted the job and told his story. When he finished, Jake told him he could start the next day as his flag boy. “It’s not flying, but it beats the hell out of sitting on that old fence post every day dreaming of flying. Maybe someday we’ll talk about you learning to fly.” Meeko was thrilled and accepted the job but secretly he wondered if Father Hanby would allow him to work while living at the orphanage.

That night as Meeko lay in bed he could not help but be concerned about becoming too close to a white man and reminded himself to be more cautious. He was ashamed of his intentions to control Jake, so he took a pinch of tobacco and offered it up to Creator, asking forgiveness for manipulating the situation. Then he called upon Granbear, saying, “I think our dreams are beginning to happen. Jake may think this friendship is real, but to me it’s an illusion. I know the flying ones have directed me to this man as a teacher, so why does it scare me?”

Granbear’s voice answered, “Your happiness is too limited, Grandson. Try to see the beauty in what you are experiencing. Call upon the clouds and let Taku Skan Skan direct you. It was Creator’s power that drew this man into your life. There’s nothing wrong in sharing his gifts. Allow them to help you take wing and fly. Chase your dreams, find your place of greatness and remember what you have learned, never forgetting the love of Great Spirit.”

Responding to Granbear’s words, Meeko bolted beyond time and sailed across the sky in an attempt to avoid facing the truth. Suddenly he circled downward into a spring day where he found a hawk that demanded space within his wintry soul. They journeyed as one through the four seasons and watched together as a flock of swallows ate the fire of self-mastery. Meeko recognized that he was not chasing his dream, but leaving it to chance.

Long before dawn the next morning, Meeko sneaked out hoping to avoid a confrontation with the sisters, and raced off to meet Jake.

“You ready?” asked Jake. Meeko nodded and fell into step with him as they walked toward the makeshift hangar. “I hope you know what I expect from you. I don’t want to crash and burn on your first day,” Jake added, chuckling and handing Meeko two brand-new white flags.

He explained, “Your job is very important. This is a hard field. See the barriers at both ends? They are blind spots for a pilot. To get over this field right I have to fly high, then drop under the power lines, cross the field and pull up quickly to clear the treetops at the other end. When I’m on the deck, your flags are my talking arms. If either wing is too low, tell me by raising the proper flag. If I look good, guide me forward with two raised flags. Once I’m aligned with the ground, I’ll fly low to get good chemical cover. If the spray is drifting, signal me to move in the right direction to compensate. If I’m too close to the ground or an obstacle is in my way, put those flags in the air quick and wave me outta there.” As he turned to walk away, Jake added, “If I’m going to crash and burn, you haul ass outta there. Got it?”

“Sure!” answered Meeko, eager for Jake to get in the air so he could start work.

Meeko’s heart skipped a beat as Jake came down fast on his first run, blowing a strong wind over him. Then hearing the backlash of the engine’s roar as Jake climbed back into the sky, he felt great excitement. By late afternoon he could sense Seven Two Charlie’s every move.

As the days passed Meeko began to feel an even stronger connection with Jake. He was also understanding more about the wind’s motion and had more confidence in his judgment.

One calm day Jake decided to play and came in really low and hot. Meeko waved him off, but Jake kept coming. Meeko accepted the challenge and stood his ground. But when Seven Two Charlie forced him down on his belly, he dug into the dirt as the wheels almost rolled across his back. Jake pulled up, flipping the ailerons in a thumbs up approval, laughing as Meeko scrambled back to his feet. Meeko, feeling the power and the exhilaration of the moment, learned the real meaning of counting coup. By the end of the day both felt the bond that was growing stronger between them. As they were tying down the plane, Jake said, “What you did today took guts, kid. Maybe someday I’ll make a pilot out of you.”

For the next two months Father Hanby allowed Meeko to spend his summer vacation working with the crop-dusters, and it was during this time that Jake, Meeko and Seven Two Charlie became inseparable. When the job came to an end, Jake reluctantly handed Meeko his money, watching him take out enough for a soda and bag of peanuts then tie the rest in a red rag. Jake shook his head not comprehending the way this kid handled money.

Meeko returned to the orphanage, reflecting on his experience as a flag boy. He felt proud that he had found a way to survive in white society and shared his thoughts with Granbear’s spirit.

“The plane is a tool, like our war ponies of long ago. It taught me to connect with the air like the winged ones. I watch Jake’s spirit grow strong when he flies, and I see the heart of a true warrior as he cuts a deep opening into the spirit world.” Meeko felt Granbear embrace his thoughts and said with a smile, “Someday, Granbear, we will fly together in our shared dreams.”

The world of flying had become everything to Meeko. As the crew hooked their trailers behind their trucks and prepared to leave, they expressed regrets that Meeko was not joining them on their next job. Meeko smiled knowingly, for he was formulating a plan of his own.

Chapter 10
Vietnam

The following morning Meeko began his new duty guarding the local bridge. He was curious about possible drug connections in the nearby village of Cam Lo. When his relief showed up, he walked across the bridge to investigate. The beautiful little village nestled at the base of forested mountains was populated by simple farmers who reminded him of Indians. He soon learned they too saw themselves as caretakers of the land. Upon further visits to Cam Lo, he discovered their language was similar to his, and within a month he was speaking Vietnamese fairly well.

The local Chief, Ong Nguyen, invited him to attend a religious ceremony for Spring. Meeko became good friends with him and they spent hours discussing their similar spiritual commitment to the people and the land. One day the two were drinking rice whiskey at a local bar when Ong explained, “I’m from the mountain people. We are called the Montagnard tribe, but most refer to us as the Moi, which means savage, because we are descendants of the Mayayos and Polynesians, rather than Chinese.”

Meeko felt a kinship with this simple man. “In my country we have the same problem. The French named us Sioux, which means savage in English, but amongst ourselves, we are known as the Nakota, Lakota or Dakota.”

Understanding, Ong smiled and continued, “Long ago, I came here to take a wife. After our marriage, we decided that since we could have no children, we would stay and help these people. After my wife’s death I thought of returning home, but instead I stayed on to help the people through this time of crisis.

“We continue to struggle with the North Vietnamese Army and now also the United States military. We mountain people are forced to defend ourselves with only crossbows and spears, when what we really need are firearms to stop the soldiers from taking our food and raping our women. Too many of our women have become whores or drug dealers to support their families. Our land is all we have. It is being destroyed and no longer able to yield good crops.”

Meeko was horrified at the impact the war was having on these poor people. As he prepared to leave, Ong said, “If you hear of orders that might threaten our village, you can send messages to me through the little girl Suzie Lin, that lives with me. Her stand is right by the side of the bridge. She is very independent, trustworthy, and wise for a ten-year-old. Her village was destroyed and she was raped. She became just a street urchin. I took her in and have seen to her education as best as I can.”

“Oh, yeah, That’s where I get my joints and anything else she has to sell for the day. My friend, I fear what happened to my people is happening to yours. Still, I will do what I can,” promised Meeko as he walked away.

Three weeks later Meeko returned to Suzie’s stand with dreaded news. “Tell Ong the bridge will be closed tomorrow,” he whispered in his now fluent Vietnamese.

Meeko was familiar with most of the villagers and he felt badly about executing the orders to stop them from crossing the bridge. One day a stranger with a water buffalo and an overloaded wooden cart got to the center of the bridge before he could stop them. When Meeko told him the bridge was closed, the old man bowed and apologized for the difficult situation. “We have walked this bridge for many years to sell our vegetables in the next village. The buffalo does not understand that we cannot cross.”

“Let me help,” answered Meeko. The old man graciously accepted his offer, whereupon Meeko grabbed the ring in the buffalo’s nose and, hoping to turn the beast around, began pulling him with authority. To his dismay, the buffalo remained determined not to reverse his direction. In an effort to outwit the creature, Meeko shoved his shoulder into the animal’s ass and pushed. When it still did not move, he twisted its tail and shoved with all his might.

“My friend,” the farmer said to the animal, “it is imperative we move forward before this crazy man twists off your tail.” As if understanding, the buffalo plodded forward, and Meeko knew he had no choice but to let them continue their journey. The old man bowed graciously and thanked him. As they passed, he reached into his cart and handed Meeko a mound of fresh vegetables, then continued his journey across the bridge. Meeko stood laughing, his arms full of vegetables, as his relief approached.

“Man, what the fuck are you doing?” asked the marine. “You can’t let those slope-heads cross this bridge.”

“Yeah, but you go tell that fucking buffalo he can’t use the bridge,” chuckled Meeko, heading for Ong’s house. There Meeko found his unit Captain and Ong drinking together. As Meeko shared his story of the buffalo, the Captain roared and pointed at Meeko’s shoulder which was covered with buffalo shit.

Later that night in camp, Meeko was startled awake by gunfire. Grabbing his M-16, he ran outside to investigate. “Fuckers got through the perimeter,” someone yelled, as Meeko caught a glimpse of the Viet Cong about a hundred yards away. Shrapnel was flying everywhere and a moment later Meeko saw the little village of Cam Lo go up in flames.

“Ong is dead!” screamed Suzie, running toward him across the bridge.

Meeko saw Suzie and ran to bring her to safety. He put her into a bunker, telling her not to move until he came for her, then ran toward the sound of machine guns as bullets continued to rip sporadically through the air. Meeko looked at the river and saw dead military personnel floating like fallen leaves. Madness gripped him and he began firing wildly into the wooded area.

The next morning, the river was red with blood as the troops searched for bodies. While he carried the remains of friends who had been cut in two by machine gunfire, Meeko raged at the senselessness of the war. By late afternoon, his division had rounded up sixty prisoners, and because he spoke their language, he was asked to help with the interrogations. As one prisoner was questioned by Lieutenant White, Meeko translated the reply. “He says for you to go fuck your mother, Sir!” The Lieutenant’s expression froze as he blew off the front of the prisoner’s face. The rest of the prisoners quickly dropped to their knees, pleading for their lives.

After the attack, security was tightened, and the Lieutenant was sent along with the three Viet Cong officers to Da Nang where the prisoners were further interrogated. Meeko placed Suzie with another Vietnamese family then left with his unit to stabilize their perimeters, all the while mourning the death of Ong, knowing he had lost a good friend.

Soon time and order meant little to Meeko. He stayed in the bush until his drugs ran low then stopped at the dispensary to replenish his supply. Late one night after night patrol, the captain, concerned that Meeko was endangering others, issued orders to detain him. When Meeko arrived, drugged as suspected, the captain invited him for a drink. The moment Meeko passed out, the captain had him taken in for drug rehabilitation.

Meeko woke up strapped to a bed in a Da Nang Hospital. He was not only enraged, but was wrestling with withdrawal symptoms, including incessant delusions. Three months later, a counselor reviewed his records in disgust, saying, “Your behavior is incorrigible! Some of your actions could warrant prison time and a possible dishonorable discharge, but your records also show you’re one of our best behind enemy lines. I could arrange to have prison bypassed if you’ll volunteer for a new Special Forces program. I understand you have many Vietnamese friends and can speak some of the dialects. Accepting my proposition would help you resolve your problems.”

Knowing he had no choice, Meeko’s hatred for the government flared and he answered coldly, “Sure, I’d love to die for my country.”

Within two weeks, Meeko was in the Special Forces group referred to as the ‘marine fuck-ups.’ Although their common status created a bond among the men, they were also aware that anyone of them could flip out and go on a killing spree. To guard against this possibility, the ten Indians and one white boy were put under the direct supervision of Tony LaVette, a hard-nosed expert from Special Forces. Although he respected the fighting abilities of this unconventional group, he frowned on some of their war tactics.

“I’ve reviewed your service records and consider you all corrupt degenerates. I have little respect for you irrational loonies,” he told them as they glared back with contempt. “You misfits are in this program because you aren’t worthy of the Marine uniform. My assignment is to make you an elite fighting unit and I intend to fulfill my orders. You will earn back every rank and privilege you threw away. If you think you have it bad now, wait til I’m through with you. You’ll be on your knees, praying to be back home with your mamas.

“Everyone here has had jump school and has served more than two years on active duty. Yes, you’ve been in some of the hottest areas, but your motivations were based on self-destruction. I expect each of you to operate at one hundred-and-fifty percent efficiency. Whoever doesn’t will be dishonorably discharged and given fifteen years of hard time in prison. Every one of you come from a bad background and you all lack a formal education. My orders are to redirect your thinking and make you into robotic fighting machines.

“This program has three phases. The first will bring back your memory skills. The second will improve your abilities in weaponry, communications and engineering. The third will demand teamwork and promote independent thinking and well-developed instinctual survival skills.”

Thereafter the group began each day with a fifteen-mile run which they were eventually expected to complete in ten minutes per mile or less. After weeks of running, they beat this time, but Captain LeVette only smiled and had them add full packs. Once their bodies grew strong, the captain stepped up the pace of the assignments, and as a result the training became harder, with respect to handling live ammo and conducting patrols, raids and ambushes. One morning he ordered the group on a dangerous assignment. “Today you will jump from a C-130 over unknown territory. You are to use the buddy system, and if you’re still alive, be back here at zero four hundred.”

The following day the men listened to the captain congratulate them on their safe return and in the next breath outline the next phase of the program. “In the second phase of your training, the subjects will be engineering, communications, special weapons and medical treatments. I know every one of you are experts around water. It is imperative that you use your instincts and good judgment to practice teamwork effectively.”

Dave LittleFeather, a Blackfoot from Montana whom everyone called Savage, said, “Hell, most of us come from reservations. We been doing this survival shit since we were born. What’s the big deal?” All the Indians chuckled looking around in agreement.

“You will become state-of-the-art fighting machines. And when I’m through, this unit will be Four-O in every aspect of down and dirty warfare. All of you men must commit to a different thinking, because there will be no racial or cultural prejudice here! You will work together, in spite of your differences,” stated the captain as he handed Patti Snowman, a Mescalero-Apache, a handful of sealed envelopes. “Read these papers and answer every question, then we’ll discuss your answers.”
Meeko opened the envelope and read:

1. If you are behind enemy lines and you find an old or a pregnant woman with small children or young girls, what would you do?
A. Kill them.
B. Take them with you.
C. Leave them.
D. Rape them.

2. If one of your team breaks a moral code by engaging in rape, child abuse or killing senselessly, what would you do?
A. Turn him in.
B. Kill him.
C. Accept what happened.
D. Hold a grudge.

3. If a teammate froze in battle, what would you do?
A. Turn him in.
B. Keep the information to yourself.
C. Deal with it on your own.
D. Kill him.

As each man voiced his opinion, the group understood what they might expect from one another. When it was Meeko’s turn to speak, remembering that Suzie had once been beaten and gang-raped by six marines, he empathetically stated that he would kill any man who raped a woman or a child.

During the next five weeks of training, the skills and tools Meeko had been introduced to in childhood took on a different meaning. The knife and the hatchet became his means of survival.

Charles, a northern Cheyenne from Montana they called Dog, joked, “Hell, in the old days they rode into battle naked, unless they had a little dick, and then they wore loincloths.” Meeko appreciated Dog’s dry sense of humor and thought they might become close friends.

Arnie West, known as Hillbilly, grabbed his dick to emphasize his point and answered, “Shit I ain’t fighting nobody unless my family jewels are protected. Where I come from, those briar bushes can cut off your balls.”

“Hell, I thought you southern boys kept your dick hard to hold your pants up,” chuckled Bait, a Seminole from Florida, whose real name was Alan Fishook.

As the training continued, the captain became increasingly impressed with their skills. When he felt they were ready, he introduced even more advanced strategies. Taking a rolled bandage, he threaded it through the loops of his pants, saying, “This is how you carry your emergency supplies—insect repellent, C-rations, flare gun and nylon suspension rope. Your line maps, code frequency books, and contact times go in your breast pocket. When you’re out in the bush for an indefinite time, carry two canteens of water, one on each hip, and tape your purification tablets to them. For special missions, attach a dummy cord, mirror, compass and a penlight to your cammies. Keep all morphine in a protective box somewhere on your body. And make damn sure everyone knows how to use a serette.”

Hillbilly grinned, then said, “Well, Captain, everyone knows a good druggie gives the best shots” as the group cracked up in laughter.

Passing around a packed box for everyone to see, LeVette continued, “The web gear is placed over your pistol belt, and everyone better get used to wearing suspenders.”

“Shit, Captain, Sir! My ole granpappy’s been wearing suspenders since he was born.” Everyone laughed as Hillbilly spat tobacco juice into his tin can, noting, “I don’t understand why these little slope-head bastards are such a big deal. Hell, it’s like huntin’ coon. If you got a good nose, you can smell’um.”

The captain, ignoring his remark, got everyone’s attention by the way he was handling a live hand grenade. “Remember your count, and never carry a grenade on the upper part of your body. Keep your grenades and ammunition, plus your water evenly distributed on your body. Carry an ammunition pouch in front of you, and position all live ammunition downward on a bag of rice to keep you from fumbling when reloading. Always keep at least four fragmentation grenades and inspect the pins daily for cleanliness, making sure that each fuse is secure. I find it best to tape the handles to ensure a faster pull.

“Now, Arnie, let’s go back to your granpappy’s suspenders. On the left side, you tape your serum container. Right below it, put a snap link and a swiss seat. On the right side, carry a knife and an emergency strobe light for easy access. That’s in case you have to operate it without the use of your hands.

Chapter 11
American Indian Movement

Later in the pilot’s lounge, he saw the newspaper headline, “Indian Uprising at Wounded Knee.” He read further, unable to believe what was happening on the reservation. He tossed the paper aside. “Did you read this?” he asked a pilot named Joe. “It fucking pisses me off! It’s just another ploy of the goddamn government to fuck the Indian over one more time! When does this thing called democracy apply to the Indian? Whatever the government wants, it takes. Fuck, what has happened to justice in this country? Fuck, man! I fought for this country, and nobody cared if I was an Indian when those bullets were flying at me.”

“Easy, Meeko! There’s nothing you can do,” Joe replied.

“I will do something!” barked Meeko, as he grabbed the newspaper and headed for his room to pack. On his way back down the hall with his belongings, Meeko tapped on Jake’s door and entered. He threw the newspaper on Jake’s desk, saying, “Read today’s headline?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded. “Fucking shame.”

“I’ll be gone a few days! I’m going home to check on things.”

Jake walked him to the plane, saying, “You be careful, call if you need me. Who knows what you might be walking into up there.”

As he lifted off, Meeko was deep in reverie about the reservation people. He remembered hearing the old people speak of the three hundred eighty-five broken treaties with the whites and knew how hard it was to cut a trail into white society. His heart filled with anger as he recalled the Big Foot massacre on December 29, 1890. The United States had been fighting its longest undeclared battle against the Indian people when the Seventh Cavalry, in a cold winter blizzard, gunned down three hundred men, women and children while they carried a white flag of truce.

He thought about the battle of Wounded Knee and wondered why, after a hundred years, history was repeating itself. Was there going to be another slaughter? God, if people would read their history, they would find the pages packed with white lies! They would see how the government shrouded its greed in a tinseled glory of bullshit, while ripping off the Red Man’s land and his way of life.

The American people needed to understand more about their ancestors. Maybe now they would be willing to look at the Red Man’s mistreatment and see the Indian again hunted down and slaughtered like an animal. Maybe the white people would understand the real purpose behind the slaughter of all the buffalo. It was time to expose the government’s plan to continue the extermination of the Red Man. He could still hear Shadowhawk saying, “Reservation. Isolation. Annihilation. Extermination. That is the future of the Red Man.”

The great white father was indeed a very clever coyote. When the government developed the relocation program for the Indian, it was just another ploy to take their land and rid the world of the Red Race. Indians had been given the option to relocate to a white city, or stay on the reservation and be cut off from government support. Those who did leave to follow their dreams soon found that without a job or schooling, they were forced to live in the ghettos outside mainstream society.

Meeko was jolted back to reality as he flew over the Badlands. God, it felt good to be back in Indian country. As the plains widened, becoming a sea of long swaying grass, he observed the outskirts of the reservation and saw nothing had changed. Circling down over Wounded Knee, he studied the old run-down buildings that leaned together. He passed over the little white church that was standing in a field of overgrown weeds graced with headstones. He felt the heartaches of his ancestors and wondered if the gift of the horse had really helped the Indian, or had instead become a tool for the white man to break the Indian nation’s back?

He spotted an isolated field, landed, then hid the plane in a large grove of trees. During his long walk to town, he passed among familiar trees and bushes. It felt good to once again bathe himself in the rawness of nature. He slipped down a ravine and grabbed a sage bush to break his fall. Catching the odor of sage in his hand, he filled his lungs, remembering the gift of protection given by this green thing. He could almost hear Granbear saying, “Everything has a purpose. Wakan Tanka would never create useless things—he leaves that job to the stupidity of humankind.”

Smiling to himself, Meeko climbed to the top of the hill and let his eyes feast upon the simplicity of reservation beauty. The wind touched his hair and he felt love for the land coursing through his veins. As far as the eye could see, sage and sweetgrass adorned Mother Earth’s body.

He looked from his heart, knowing that life was not always what it seemed. He sat down for a moment, staring over the land, watching the spirit that moves in all things. Even the sage held its secrets deep within its silver-green leaves. He watched the grass bend under the warm gusting winds and realized it too played its part in the reproduction of life. Meeko watched the clouds and knew that very soon the crackling voice of Wakinyan would bring another Dakota rainstorm. He remembered how quickly prairie storms could arrive and immediately continued his journey. Surely there would come a day when all people will understand the strength in the gentle silence of Wakan Tanka’s work.

Meeko wove his way through more underbrush and crossed the river as the wind picked up. He felt the old ones join with its voice to welcome him home. Eagle called from overhead, reminding him of another time and place, “How high do you dare fly, Little Sparrow?”

Meeko stepped onto the road to see an old truck approaching him and hitched a ride into Wounded Knee. The old man fought through his busted gears and said, “I wouldn’t go near that place. Too much trouble. The place is crawling with Feds and the Goon Squad.”

“I’m heading to Shadowhawk’s—just outside of town.”

“Uh huh,” the old man answered. And as Indian protocol requires there was no more conversation for the rest of the trip, until they pulled to a stop in front of Shadowhawk’s place. “Welcome home, Grandson. I’ll see you in the sweats tonight,” said the old man as he drove away.

Meeko, happy to be once again interacting with the ways of the old people, chuckled as he watched the truck fade into the distance. He walked toward the house, followed by two suspicious, growling dogs. Shadowhawk was waiting on the porch to greet him. The two brought each other up-to-date over a warm meal, then prepared the fire for the evening sweat.

Shadowhawk stacked the wood and lit the flame, saying, “There seems to be a sickness in many of the men who have returned from Vietnam. They are ashamed of themselves and angry with the government. Some are still fighting the demons from that war. Others are getting an education to help them battle the government. Once they have their sheepskins, our men will pick up their weapons and be ready to fight the white man in his own language, just as Granbear always dreamed. Yes, it’s good to see our men coming back to the blanket. Grandson, we’ve got to have a hot sweat tonight to clean the white man’s war off of you. We certainly don’t need any evil alien spirits walking around stripping away your life,” said Shadowhawk, handing Meeko a cup of coffee.

While they sat watching the fire, Meeko asked, “What’s going on in Wounded Knee?”

“I will speak to you, but my words will not be said quickly,” answered Shadowhawk. “It’s time for change. These young men returning from Vietnam are carrying a strong voice with the people. The old Tomahawks call them a radical group but I, as well as others, understand their views as a good thing. We’re tired of living with broken promises of hospitals and schools. We want good doctors, and we want to return to our old beliefs without interference from churches and government. The Indian Movement is speaking up for all of these rights, and its supporters are striving to bring back the old ways.

“Since its inception, the United States political forces have tried to stop this new movement. God forbid the Indian people ever unite in a common cause. The difference between these two cultures is that they march to different drums. The people are listening to these new leaders, and their words are breathing life back into them.

“The government keeps forgetting the Sioux have never ceased fighting. We have had Indian activities as far back as 1944. It was called the National Congress of American Indians. Another spurt of recognition happened for us when Ira Hayes helped raise the flag on Iwo Jima. In 1953, that’s when the “No Indians Allowed” signs came down from entrance doors in Rapid City, South Dakota. Then in 1961, the National Youth Council helped establish American Indian studies on the college campuses. In 1969, Alcatraz was held by the Indian and another battle followed for game and fishing rights. And just look at what they have done to Paha Sapa, the Black Hills! You call that art? I call it mockery!

“Grandson, the American Indian Movement is becoming the muscle and the mouth to push our people forward. The breeds and the bloods are coming together to help fight a battle for freedom. Consider our history. When the white foreigners arrived in our country, they would have died during the first winter if it had not been for the Indians and their knowledge of the land. They called this place a wilderness and tried to tame it. We called it our mother and tried to take care of her. Their hearts were filled with greed, they took our gifts and in turn destroyed the land, our culture and our way of life. The people are beginning to remember their forefathers, and the American Indian Movement is bringing pride back to the people.

“Of course, the government doesn’t approve of the new organization, and therefore the national media is forbidden to cover our story. Yet a single act of violence associated with us finds its way to the major networks. We are tired of being stereotyped as Redskins who paint pretty pictures and wear ribbon shirts and Billy Jack hats. We’re tired of watching our young people give up on their future and turn to drinking, sniffing glue or committing suicide in their teens. The average American would have a hard time believing that their government not only condones what happens to the Indian, but participates in our destruction.

“This war of words is over, and we’re not going to take any more broken treaties. We’re finished with empty promises, and the people are raising their voices in anger. Everyone is tired of listening to a few token Indians who do the dirty work for the United States Government. We’re not going to sit back and listen anymore. The old people are beginning to unseal their lips, and they too are speaking out about what whitey has done. It was the white system who created this monster, and the old people are saying it’s time for it to turn and eat them. It’s time for the government to deal with our country, which is within their country. Indians need to unite as one nation and let the public know about all the government’s unfulfilled promises.

“The Red Man came back from Vietnam and was recognized by our people as warriors. They knew their people wanted their voices heard. They wanted the public to learn of the harsh treatment of the Indian. The public needs to know that we are considered wards of the federal government, but we’re not going to stay hidden among a stack of papers for another hundred years. In fact, the Bureau of Indian Affairs is just another token organization of the United States Government.

“We are like a bunch of sheep going to slaughter, herded around to listen to the ‘I-don’t-know-people’ tell us nothing except to sign another government form! We’re tired of this. Last week, I had to sign another five-year lease on my land. I’m tired of turning my property over every year to a local white farmer for three dollars an acre and then having to watch the government pay him eleven dollars an acre not to grow anything on it! Yes, the time has come for the public to learn about this bungling bureaucracy and its inefficient civil servants who run the reservations. It’s time Washington recognizes that Indian is not merely a word, but a race of people. I’m tired of suffering these brutal wrongs. There have been too many years of hunger, cold winters, no money and no jobs on this reservation.”

Meeko shared Shadowhawk’s anger and asked, “Are we getting ready to fight Old Yellow Hair again?”

“Yeah, could be 1876 all over again, Grandson,” answered Shadowhawk with a smile.

The following morning, Shadowhawk and Meeko drove to town. They got out of the truck and as they walked around, they could hear the place buzzing with angry words. They walked to the general store and sat down on a wooden bench next to some elders listening to their soft guarded voices speaking of trouble. Men, women, children, why even the old people, were grumbling about the Feds, the BIA and the Goon Squad all working together.

Meeko grew angry when he learned of the drive-by shootings, the beatings and the arrests of innocent people. One young girl had been shot, another had lost her sight in one eye, while two others had been raped by federal agents. Many homes had been destroyed while being ransacked for valuable ceremonial articles, most of which had found their way into the pockets of the agents.

Suddenly Meeko heard the words, “Hey, Bear, when did you get back in town?” It was Savage, his old Vietnam brother.

Meeko shook his hand, saying, “Got in yesterday.”

“Come to help, or just sightseeing?”

“Don’t know. Thought I’d look around,” answered Meeko.

“Wanna take a walk? I’ll fill you in.”

As they fell in step, both crossed the road and headed toward the river. They sat smoking a joint as they discussed the situation until long after dark. Both were particularly upset over the invaders who were looking hard to find the leaders of this new Indian movement. “Last week, we had a Yuwipi, and the spirits told us you were coming. Guess they thought we needed a pilot,” laughed Savage, as they sat in silent agreement under a moonless night while listening to the crickets sing.

Chapter 12
Prison Life

It was early fall when the van stopped at the gates of the Atlanta Federal Prison, better known as the “garbage dump,” because it housed only the most hardened criminals. Cresting high above its aging walls were four towers strategically placed at each of the corners. Meeko glanced upward to see shadowy figures peering from behind dark, slanted windows as they entered the sally port. He noticed armed guards with readied rifles parading the catwalks that marked the facility’s circumference. Scrutinizing the cold watchful eyes peering from anesthetized faces gave Meeko a foretaste of what his next fifteen years might be like.

As they slowed down a guard jumped aboard and handed the driver a clipboard. “I see you got a new bunch of fish this morning. Where did you get the Indian?”

“Picked him up at county this morning,” the driver answered, handing back the signed forms as he departed.

Two more guards came aboard and removed the shackles and handcuffs from the prisoners. “Get out and walk single file through that steel door and wait for me,” ordered one of the guards.

The men did as instructed and within twenty minutes they had entered the receiving area where they sat on long wooden benches lining the walls to wait until their names were called. When his turn came, Meeko stepped to the counter and turned over all of his personal possessions to be tagged and was handed a prison rule book to read.

The group entered another room and the prison processing continued. Meeko was surprised to discover it was mandatory for everyone to complete a past health history. Pictures were taken detailing all scars and tattoos, then their race and religion was documented. The new arrivals showered and shaved in preparation for their dental and physical examinations. Past records on time served in juvenile hall, county jail or prison were collected and placed in a file, referred to as the inmate’s jacket. The prisoners were given an identification number which was stamped on everything that pertained to them. By noon Meeko had been tagged, bagged, numbered and processed out of his identity and given a new one that met the standards of the United States Penal System. His next challenge would be to learn two systems—the prison rules and the more daunting ones of the inmates.

That afternoon the newly arrived inmates were taken to the orientation room and handed a folded gray blanket, bar of soap, toothpaste, deodorant, razor, toilet paper, wash cloth, two changes of clothing, one pillowcase and two white sheets. As they were marched through the last steel door, it slammed behind them with a loud bang of futility.

Meeko’s heart sank as he saw a crowded, open-domed wire cage called a holding tank, growing like a sinister mushroom in the center of the room. Each man was assigned a cot as the guard bellowed, “You’ll stay held here until we’ve completed processing your files and assign you permanent living quarters. In the meantime, get used to following a clock and taking a shit in front of the world, boys.” The guard smiled maliciously as he turned the key in the lock—a sound Meeko would never forget.

Meeko walked to his assigned cot and methodically made it up, placing the rest of his things underneath. He lit a cigarette and sat stoically on his cot reflecting on how the prison system had just stripped him of his human rights. As if that was not bad enough, there was no space or solitude in this small overcrowded existence. Although tempted to scream like a captured animal, Meeko knew if he was to stay alive, he could not allow his emotions to show outwardly or demonstrate any reaction.

By the end of the second day Meeko realized there was a time to eat, shit, bathe, work and sleep—but no time to think. He watched the ignorant and poor try to jockey themselves into positions of power within this aggressive atmosphere, and came to the realization that a man in prison was either predator or prey. Instinctively Meeko viewed the prison system as a deliberate plan to destroy man and his spirit. He had to change his paradigm quickly if he were to survive in this barbaric, raging community. He understood it was only a matter of time before he too would have to prove himself a man.

To keep from going insane, he forced himself to see the humor in this quandary and decided to view the prison as a mental institution. Surely the great white father would find the error of his ways and bring in the cavalry to rescue him. To amuse himself, he observed the power plays among the Blacks, Whites, Hispanics and Indians who had their own games. This conglomeration of cultures, education and religion brought forth extreme displays of personalities, from machismo to blatant homosexuality. Each group had a selected leader and every member responded according to his place and rank within that particular hierarchy.

The old inmates arrived like a pack of hungry wolves, surrounding the cage to size up the new prey, and the wheeling and dealing began. Meeko watched with contempt as new inmates were brazenly selected from the meat rack to become their potential fuck boys. He watched through all this pandemonium as many straight men succumbed to the role of sexual victims, being forced to partake in homosexual relationships. All the muscle daddies pursued the young, pretty, small-framed men, while the ugly ones were quickly tossed aside like human waste.

Meeko was intrigued by the large number of habitual criminals among the group. These “old-timers” knew the ropes and easily slipped back into following the unwritten rules that would re-establish them among the inmate leaders. By this time Meeko had come to the conclusion there were two sides in prison—Them and Us!

A guard motioned Meeko to him. As he approached the guard smiled, exposing a mouthful of scattered yellow teeth. In a heavy southern drawl, he asked, “Hey Chief, are you a reservation Indian?”

“Yeah, Sioux.”

“Well, you ain’t gonna find no fry bread in this part of the country,” the man snickered.

“That right?” Meeko shrugged his shoulders as if it didn’t matter.

“Yep, I’ve been watching you. You know what’s going down. This is a tough place, boy, and I’m gonna give you some advice. If you wanna leave here alive, you gotta keep your nose clean. I’m only telling you this because we’re both Indian. My great-grandmother was a Cherokee.”

Meeko remained composed, biting the inside of his cheek to contain his laughter. Oh God, he thought, not another Cherokee princess story. Why in the hell does every southerner tell the same goddamn story?

Sure enough, the guard began, “My Pappy always bragged about us being part Indian. You see, my great-grandmother was a Cherokee Indian princess.”

Meeko listened stoically, answering in his most serious voice, “Yeah, you’re Indian all right. You’ve got those high cheekbones.”

The guard smiled proudly. “Why, thank you. I’m glad you recognized that. Since we’re both Indian, maybe we can become friends. Just remember we house tough criminals in this place, and I don’t want you to get in trouble. Make sure you watch out for those fucking dagos and those dumb Alabama boys. They got a lot of clout here. They’ve got their own deal in this joint. Now as far as the rest of ‘em, fuck ‘em. By the way, I’ve heard some talk about that long, pretty black hair of yours. You gotta watch your ass, boy.” Meeko remained expressionless as the guard walked away, running his billy club along the wire cage as a personal threat to those watching.

Meeko noticed five Indians walking his way. The oldest approached first, saying, “Hau, Grandson. I’m Larry Blackbear, Oglala from Pine Ridge. We heard you were here. Just came to welcome you. Right now there is nothing we can do but share information. We’ve gotten you assigned to our block. You’ll be moving tomorrow.”

“What difference does it make? We’re all in the same fucking prison,” answered Meeko. The four brothers locked a hard gaze on Meeko, silently challenging him for showing disrespect to a man of medicine. Meeko made a mental note of this challenge for future reference.

“Remember we are brothers, Grandson. We’ll talk tomorrow after you’ve moved in,” said Blackbear as the group walked away.

Early the next morning two guards approached, saying, “Okay Indian, roll ‘em up.” Meeko picked up his things and followed them as they silently escorted him through many steel doors, moving him deep into the bowels of the prison system. He noted all the security systems and knew they would stop any adventurous soul who had any fantasies of escaping. They arrived on the third tier and Meeko felt the urge to run when he saw that a ten-by-twenty-foot cell in C Block housed six men. “In you go, Indian. Take that bunk and locker.”

Meeko stepped inside, glad to see his bed was near the outside wall. One inmate was sitting on the open toilet, while four others ignored him. As the door rolled shut, Meeko wondered how he would handle living in such a small space for the next fifteen years. He deliberately took his time placing his things in the locker, then unrolled his mattress onto the metal bed and made it up. Meeko, feeling hostility from one of his cellies, decided to remain aloof and casually stretched out across his metal bed. As he thought over his situation, he noticed a reflective light coming from the far end of the corridor. He got up and walked to the bars. As he stood there, a bear-shaped Indian named Rudy who looked about thirty-eight years old walked over and handed him a cup of black coffee. The two men stood looking through the cold steel bars as they silently drank their coffee.

“C Block has the most deranged sonuvabitchin’ guards in this prison,” Rudy began. “See that rail? That’s one helluva fall if you accidentally slip on a banana peel. I’ve seen a couple of men trip and fall over that rail with a little bit of help. Man, there was blood, guts and smashed bones splattered all over that bottom floor. Took a whole day to clean that shit up. Wouldn’t think about jumping, unless you had wings.”

Meeko saw the rail was about six feet high with a mesh wire surrounding it.

“In here, Kola, you’re going to need friends. Prison teaches you that your life is like a small candle flame burning in a strong wind. We Indians need each other. It keeps our soul lights burning.” Climbing into his bunk, he added, “Blackbear asked me to bring you to our group meeting.”

Meeko liked this gentle man and sensed they would become good friends. He finished his coffee and returned the cup to Rudy, thanking him with a nonverbal gesture as he sat back down on the side of his bed. He thought of all that he had gone through to this day and wondered what had happened to his all-American dream of a good job, wife and kids. Why wasn’t it possible to be like the family on “Father Knows Best?”

Meeko feared he would become just another stupid, dirty, drunken Indian destined to spend his life behind bars. He then reflected back on himself as an eleven-year-old child and saw his jail cell in a new light as a warm bed and three square meals a day. He could see the building blocks that had prepared him to become a guest of the United States Federal Penal System—the orphanage, Renna, Granbear, Shadowhawk, the Marines, Vietnam, his bad marriage, drugs and alcohol. It revolted him to know that he had fucked up big time! Disgusted with himself, he rolled toward the dimly lit hall to get some sleep.

Chapter 13
Meeko Meets Sunny

“I understand you served five years in prison for Indian activities?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I did not foresee time behind bars as the price for helping my people. As you know, there are no jobs on the reservations, and I was tired of seeing my people live below poverty standards. It seems the reservations are a third world country surrounded by the luxuries of the American dream. Someday, I’d like to see my people return to the old ways.”

“Really? When is the last time you took a close look at reservation life? What about the physical and mental abuse? The hunger, the ravages of alcohol? The killings, beatings, suicides, rapes, incest and spiritual illness? I don’t know anyone who has ever lived on a reservation and escaped these miseries. We have the highest suicide rate in the world among our Indian teenagers. What happened to the honor and integrity of the people who say they follow the old ways?” snapped Sunny.

“These problems do exist, but consider the government agencies’ role in causing the conditions that gave rise to them. First they destroyed the buffalo, which in turn destroyed the Indian. Then they placed the survivors on reservations, gave them alcohol, and let the Indian do the rest.”

Sunny sighed at the futility of it all. “I suppose the government pours the booze down every drunken Indian’s throat? I believe the standard speech goes, reservation, isolation, annihilation, and someday the buffalo will return!

Sensing her disgust, Meeko voiced his political views with more caution.

“Sunny, before the white man came, we considered ourselves the caretakers of Mother Earth. We, as a people, were connected to the land and treated everything in a sacred manner. Sometimes my mind explodes with these so-called logical, civilized ways. Look at my paintings. Most of them were born from resentment, hatred and anger over how our elders were treated. I believe that someday people will respect the old ways and see the beauty of our truth then learn why we incorporate all life forces into the true principles of life. I know our history proves our truth, and I hate the way white society still sees us as uncivilized heathens.”

“Maybe it’s hard for you bloods to follow the old ways, but it’s even harder for us breeds—the whites don’t want us and neither do the Reds! I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with both races, so I will continue to practice my medicine unaffected by either one.”

Feeling it best not to discuss his political views any further until they got to know each other better, Meeko excused himself so he could work on the painting he had promised to deliver to the gallery by the next afternoon.

As Sunny walked him to the door, Meeko hesitated for a moment, then put his arms around her. “Thank you for a beautiful evening. Promise me that I can see you again. I want the opportunity to drink in more of your beauty,” he whispered, running his forefinger gently down the side of her face. Seeing that she accepted his touch, he kissed her gently on her lips, adding, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Maybe, that is if you can find me in the park,” Sunny answered, smiling flirtatiously before closing the door. Her cryptic challenge appealed to the warrior in Meeko, who hailed a cab and crossed town with a happy heart.

Back in his room he ordered a large pot of black coffee, then set up his easel. As he considered what to paint, his thoughts of Sunny and their verbal sparring about traditions made him wonder who would survive the battle if they ever had a serious dispute. He thought of the Dog Soldiers and their connection to Wolf and soon his brush was moving across the canvas in brisk strokes and by late midafternoon the painting was finished.

He walked to the gallery and when Joanna saw the painting, she smiled ecstatically knowing Meeko had created another winner. She took the painting to the storeroom, saying, “I’ll let this dry, then I want to get two thousand signed prints made before we sell the original.” Meeko nodded his approval and left to get some much needed rest.

Early the next morning Meeko headed to Central Park, trusting that if Sunny were the woman he had dreamed of, the rose tattoo would lead him to her. Allowing the rose to guide him, Meeko saw her as he turned onto a jogging path and called out. Sunny stopped, then grinned knowingly as he raced toward her. When she had finished her run they sat on the grass while Sunny casually tossed peanuts to the squirrels. Taking Meeko’s hand, she idly traced the rose tattoo with her finger saying, “Tell me more about this.”

“When I was a child my friend tattooed this rose on my hand. I guess I have a vivid imagination, because I’ve always dreamed about a woman and her connection to the rose. I learned it represented love and happiness, that’s when my interest grew stronger and stronger in the power of the rose. I use this tattoo in many ways, and sometimes it helps me find things. In fact, it was through this rose that I’ve learned to control my emotions. It helps me see beauty, and sometimes I use it to gather my strength. I call it the rose that blooms forever. Sometimes it guides me to my next painting.”

Thinking over his words, Sunny responded “Roses are important but have different associations for me. I know the sweetness of the rose, but I also know the sharpness of its thorns. Often, roses remind me that beauty can disappear in a careless moment and that many aspects of life have a dark side. Whenever I receive roses as a performer, I try to understand the reason underlying the gift.

“Before my grandmother’s death, she made me promise that I would never allow anyone or anything to redirect my destiny. It was her fertile teachings that prepared me for my life in show business and taught me that I had the beauty of a wild rose. She also taught me that I was a warrioress, and should have thorns like a rose to fend off enemies. Like the rose, if you try to take my flowers, I take your blood.

“After my grandmother’s death, my life changed drastically. I was forced to live with my father, whom I did not know, and under his harshness, I wilted. We were dirt poor, and I could no longer respond to life as a beautiful flower. However, my father did teach me to survive in a world rampant with violence, alcoholism and hunger. I learned that life is not always fair and that I had to fight to the death like a rabid animal for my beliefs and my existence.”

Meeko heard her truth and thanked her for sharing this personal aspect of her life. In great admiration, he remarked. “Sunny, when I saw you on stage, I watched you move people like a flowing river.”

“Sometimes, but my strong opinions often get me in trouble. I love the theater because it allows me to share my emotions openly without the possibility of being hurt. I love beauty in everything. It’s what makes me happy.”

“I hope that someday I can let the sun smile in my heart like you,” said Meeko standing up and extending his hand to Sunny. “Would you consider having lunch with me, so we can continue chasing life’s rainbows?”

Sunny agreed and took him to her favorite outdoor cafe. After they had ordered, Meeko took her hand saying, “Sunny, you’ve been my every thought since we met. Your wit and strength fascinate me. I believe you’ve somehow captured me in a magical spell and I beg you to either release my soul from this misery, or consider spending more time with me.”

Remembering she had a few days off, Sunny answered, “I’ll think about releasing you if you have the courage to take a two day trip to the mountains with me.” The following morning Meeko, Sunny and ShaTonga cruised down the freeway, exhilarated and eager to spend a few days alone in nature. By early afternoon, they arrived at a hotel in the Catskill Mountains. After checking in to adjoining suites and unpacking, Meeko opened the door to Sunny’s suite and asked if she would like a snack before dinner. Within fifteen minutes, room service had set up a beautiful table with some finger foods and a bottle of wine on the terrace overlooking the wooded area.

After the bottle was empty, they strolled through the woods as though some mystic hand from the past was leading them toward a thicket of tall pine trees. Sun rays were filtering through branches casting streaks of light across their pathway, letting the beauty of the moment embrace their souls. Meeko picked some needles from a spruce tree and began chewing them with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. As Sunny gave him an inquiring look, he said, “Once when I was very young, I thought I was in love. I went to a medicine woman we call Wicahmunga, and she told me that if I chewed spruce needles and rubbed the juice into the hair of the one I loved, she would be in love with me forever.”

Then as Meeko spit into his hands, Sunny took off running and as he caught her he growled like an old bear. “You’ll never get away from me. You are mine forever.” He wrestled her to the ground and rubbed the spruce spittle into her hair. Over the next hour, their play developed into a romantic teasing which sparked passion.

In the light of the full moon, they walked hand in hand back to the hotel listening to a distant cry of a lonely wolf which enhanced their romantic mood. Sunny fearing these new emotions, became apprehensive as she realized Meeko might possibly be the man her grandmother had predicted long ago who would bring her great love but also much pain.

Chapter 14
Sunny Returns to the Reservation

It was long before daybreak when Sunny felt a gentle nudge on her foot. She rolled over to see Shung' standing nearby motioning for her to join her for breakfast. Sunny crawled out from underneath the warm blanket, grumbling quietly to herself when she saw the clock read four-thirty.

Sitting at Cheering Woman’s kitchen table, Sunny sipped her morning coffee as she waited for Shung' to speak.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve spent time together. It’s good to have you home. I’ve always known that someday when the time was right you’d return. We’ll spend some good times together and try to find the things you seek. First, I want to correct that big mouth, Willie. I know he told you about my personal life. People just can’t mind their own business. Eddie and I have our own kind of marriage. We come together, and we go apart. And that’s all I have to say.

“You’ve come here to find many answers. I’m ready to speak about your past. When you called and asked me about the mystery lady, I told you I’d tell you the truth about your father and mother when you got here. To do this right, I must go back to the beginning, so that you can understand why so many things were done in a certain way while you were a little child.

“You were born out of wedlock, but never removed from the blanket. Your mother, Anna, was a beautiful girl and Sam was a very handsome young man. There was much talk when they found out she was pregnant and had gone to a white doctor for an abortion. But it didn’t work, and when they came to speak to your grandmother, they agreed to have the baby and let her raise it in the old way. Although your mother left the reservation to search for a career in the movies right after you were born, she came to visit you until you were three years old. She and Sam continued seeing each other throughout the years, and their love for each other never died.

“In fact, the old people always said that their kind of love could never be broken or tarnished. Sam always had trouble being around you because you looked too much like your mother. Your mother knew the family was dirt poor and helped support Sam, Hazel and you. She also paid for your grandmother’s house and established your scholarship. It’s clear that those two people loved each other and you very much.”

“What does my mother look like?”

“Like you.”

“Who were her relatives?”

“They say her father was one of the white cowhands over on the Lars ranch and her mother was one of the young “Left Hand” girls from the Rocky Boy Reservation. As a youngster, your mother stayed around your grandmother a lot. When she got pregnant, she went to work for a white couple until you were born, then moved to California.”

“Why didn’t she let me know her, or at least contact me after Grandmother died?”

“Because your Grandmother felt it best for your paths never to cross. She hoped you would be independent, capable of walking in both worlds and she wanted you to become Medicine.”

“Are you really related to me?”

Seeing Sunny’s pain, Shung' lovingly answered, “Yes. I am much younger than your grandmother, but we had the same father.”

“Damn it, Shung', I hate all this secrecy! I want to find my mother and hear her side of the story!” declared Sunny, determined to know more about her roots.

“I will not allow you to go against your grandmother’s decision! Cheering Woman said that was the way it was, and that is what we will do! That’s all I have to say!”

Upset by Shung's words, Sunny slammed her fist on the table and stormed out of the house to sit under the old apple tree.

An hour later, Shung' went out to comfort her. She placed her arms around Sunny who lay her head in Shung's lap sobbing hysterically. Shung' stroked her hair soothingly. “Sunny, I know you want information about your past, but are you strong enough to forgive and love them enough to complete the circle with your parents? Your grandmother worked hard to provide you with a loving environment so that you could someday have an honorable relationship with a loving man.

“Your spirit is one with your parents, and this connection will merge with the loving relationship you have with Meeko. Your grandmother wanted you to find a man who would love you enough to break the bondage of abandonment that lives in your heart. She always knew Sam’s death would bring you home to get married. She told me that when this happened I was to tell you the complete story of your early life.”

Shung' took a letter from her pocket and handed it to Sunny along with Cheering Woman’s pipe.

“Before you open this, listen to my words. Life is powerful and its demands are simple. A loving attitude opens the creative force that transforms desires into realities. Let this letter become the sun that will always shine through every dark cloud that comes into your life. Don’t let the truth about Sam and your mother become your downfall.”

Her hands shaking, a tearful Sunny opened the letter and read:

My Dearest Child,

I am watching you through the kitchen window as you practice with your Rope of Hope. By the time you read this letter you will have your Rope of Hope well established between your lovely ears. Sam is happy and with me, and I know as you sit with my trusted sister, you are considering marriage. I want you to finish your medicine training with Shung'. Once she has released you from this training, take the knowledge and share it with the world. Only then can you pick up my medicine pipe. Granddaughter, join her upon my blanket so both of you can smile at the beauty of life as a bonded family. Listen to her wise words, and let her answers resolve your question about this marriage you are considering. Pick an apple from that old tree and we will celebrate your life’s progress. I love you, Sunlit Soul, and I am with you always.

Your loving Grandmother

When Sunny finished reading the letter, she held it close to her heart, tears streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Shung', I promise I’ll complete my medicine training with you if you can forgive me for my insanity.”

“Cheering Woman loved and protected you like no other. She kept your illegitimate birth hidden because she didn’t want you to be exposed to an unforgiving society.”

“I can understand my grandmother’s actions, but I still don’t understand why my real mother would abandon me. Who is she?”

“Her name is Anna Archer.”

Sunny’s eyes widened in disbelief that this famous woman was half Indian. “How can this be?”

“What difference does it make? You can’t prove anything. That’s why my name is on your birth certificate even though you’re not my daughter.”

Sunny pulled away from Shung' in disgust. One stupid secret had created such turmoil in her life! In frustration, she paced around the apple tree, trying to diffuse her anger.

“With all that success, she could at least have gotten in touch with me. Shung', I will find her, and I’ll make damn sure she knows who I am.”

“Stop this drama! Save it for the stage, where you can get paid for it. You’re not going to do anything of the sort. Now, sit down and shut your mouth until I finish my story.”

Sunny sat, her face still openly defiant. But she remained silent, knowing if she said one word, she would be told to leave without learning the rest of the story. Shung' relaxed, then continued.

“Cheering Woman never attended a white school, but in her thirteenth winter she became the wife of a white school teacher. During their marriage, they had eleven children, and after his death she never remarried or mentioned his name again. Subsequently, her children left the reservation to live in the white world never to return or recognize their Indian heritage. For many years my sister was destroyed by this heartache.

“Sam was still a baby when your grandmother decided to pick up her medicine pipe and become a Sundancer. From that day forward on every summer solstice she danced to the rhythm of the Sundance drums. In time, the sound of her voice was like a melodic flute that carried truth. Cheering Woman devoted her life to serving Wakan Tanka, and people today still speak of her medicine achievements.

“I admired my older sister, but in my youth had no interest in her ways. Even so, when I fell in love, I asked her for a potion to keep Eddie’s love forever. She gave me some elk hoof powder and told me to sprinkle it over his food. Anyway, Eddie is still around, and now I’m going to give you the powder so you can scatter it over your man’s food.” Shung' playfully handed her an old leather pouch. Sunny looked skeptically at the gift, although she was delighted to have any potion from Cheering Woman.

Seeing Sunny was more receptive, Shung' probed deeper into her intentions toward Meeko. “Sunny, I hope you have considered what you want from this man and what you have to share with him. Every relationship is a challenge that brings difficulties. Ask yourself if you want this relationship bad enough to trust it during troubled times and if you are loving enough to rebuild your marriage should it fall. Question why you might be looking for someone outside of yourself to fulfill your needs. Never think that marriage to this man is going to be a bed of roses. Remember, all roses have thorns.”

“He’s the opposite of Sam. I like his gentleness and sensitivity. He’s very intelligent and we can communicate on most things. I know he loves me, and wants me as his wife.”

“It sounds like you are needy, Sunny. If you expect this man to fulfill your needs, you will be destroyed. Search further within before making this decision. Also search above for messages from the winged ones, the sun, the moon and the stars. Go back. Reclaim the seeds of integrity your grandmother planted long ago. Let her words take root in your mind and grow with the strength of your soul’s inner beauty before you demand a birthing from those seedlings. Happiness can never grow from a soul filled with anger and hate.

“Your grandmother always said that we are like sparkling jewels made from spiritual energy. She believed that everyone should walk in honor and appreciate the gifts given by Wakan Tanka. She taught you that Mother Earth was created through beauty, harmony and balance. She dreamed that you would train the children of tomorrow, and I see no way for you to escape this destiny.”

Chapter 15
Honeymoon

As they left for their long drive to the airport with Willie, Sunny and Meeko were grateful for the seeds of Medicine that had been planted to inspire visions of their future together. They felt that in time, their love would harvest and feed their hungered souls as they grew old together.

To reassure himself of Sunny’s lasting love, Meeko said, “Sweetheart, I know we were meant to be together and share in a perfect life. I pray that I never awaken to find that you’ve been only a dream.”

“We were born to share in this life as one. I saw it written in the stars,” Sunny answered softly as Meeko snuggled close feeling bolstered by her tender words.

Their trip was uneventful until they crossed into Colorado and noticed many dark clouds forming overhead and lightning boldly flashing across the sky without a sound from Wakinyan. “There’s a bad storm brewing,” observed Meeko with concern.

“Yeah, kinda spooky. The winds are too still,” said Willie pulling into a large truck stop. Meeko and Sunny went inside to fill their thermos with coffee, while Willie got gas. He joined them at the cash register, where a man with wolflike features was asking Sunny for directions to Denver. Shocked by the man’s appearance, she mumbled a quick reply then hurried with Willie and Meeko to the truck. “Did you see that guy? He scared the shit out of me. He looked exactly like what Shung' had predicted.”

“Yeah, he gave me the creeps,” answered Meeko as Willie nodded his agreement.

As they drove on, the three became aware of other unusual things happening. Birds deliberately flew toward the windshield, then veered off at the last second. They saw animals eating from road kills that were not part of their normal diet. When three coyotes stood in the middle of the road refusing to move, they became very unsettled.

“I don’t fucking like this. There are three of them and three of us. Who’s tricking who?” Willie lay on the horn, cursing and shaking his fist through the open window of the truck. He was forced onto the shoulder of the road to get around them, but when he looked back in his side view mirror he found they had mysteriously disappeared.

Suddenly the thick, dark clouds dropped lower and lower to the ground. Willie was horrified when he saw the wolflike stranger standing on the side of the road with his thumb out.

“No way am I gonna give him a ride! We’re getting the hell outta here,” yelled Willie as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

Sunny gasped. “Do you think that could be Shung' or Shadowhawk shape-shifting? Or maybe it’s the demon from the reservation chasing us?”

Filled with apprehension, they drove the rest of the trip in silence, and everyone was relieved when Willie pulled into the airport terminal. As Meeko retrieved their luggage, Sunny leaned over and kissed Willie fondly on the cheek.

“I’ll miss you, Bro.”

“Hey, me too” he answered shyly.

Sunny and Meeko stood for a moment watching Willie’s taillights fade into traffic, both hoping he would be safe on his return home.

After they had picked up their tickets to Miami, Meeko suggested they stop in the lounge for a drink. Taking a seat near the window they sipped their drinks in silence, Meeko watching the busy planes, Sunny observing the happy couples passing and wondering how many were going on their honeymoons.

“Meeko, why do people have the need to get married?”

“I don’t know, maybe they love each other,” he answered indifferently, wondering what was causing her pensive mood.

“Do you think people choose to fall in love, or do you think they’re destined to love a particular person?”

“Sweetheart, you do have an unusual way with words. I treasure the way you ponder life’s mysteries, but sometimes you analyze things too much. I think you should rest that beautiful brain and just accept that our marriage is our only reality. We’re together because it’s written in our hearts. Someday I’ll prove to you that we belong together. Don’t you know that I’m going to be the most wonderful, loving and devoted husband that has ever lived?”

“I know, but sometimes people come together to fulfill their own selfish needs. They chase dreams, not reality,” said Sunny, still pensive.

“Sunny, my inquisitive little eccentric, that may be true for others, but not for us. No matter how you try to explain it, we’re together because we want to be. Why can’t you just accept that our marriage is different?” Then hoping to lighten her mood, Meeko added, “Remember back in New York when a group of your posh lady friends came to visit? I loved their shocked expressions when I served them that piss-elegant tray of gourmet foods wearing only a towel for a loincloth and your underpants for a war bonnet.”

“You were an ass. That was really embarrassing, but also funny. Did you ever figure out where underpants are really worn on the female anatomy?” she teased.

“Well, they do look better on you. Besides, your panties would be too small to cover my butt.”

At that moment they heard their boarding call. They found their seats and Meeko put their carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment before continuing, “But if I could wear them, I bet I’d look adorable.”

Refusing to allow Meeko to have the final word, Sunny replied, “I may be small, but I can fit into your pants any day.”

“Well, if that’s so, I would have to walk behind you to hold them up.”

Again, Sunny persisted. “Okay, funnyman, tell me why we are on this plane heading for Miami.”

“No-o-o! I can’t tell you that! It’s a surprise,” he answered, secretly hoping Sunny would prod him with more questions. The trip was long and no matter what she tried, Meeko remained tightlipped until they landed. He led Sunny through the airport and hailed a cab, giving the driver instructions to their destination.

When they arrived at a boat dock in Fort Lauderdale, Meeko insisted she wear a blindfold as he led her along the dock. Sunny thought the game was ridiculous, but she humored Meeko by acting confused and playing along with him. “Just a little farther. You’re going to love your surprise,” he said as he removed her blindfold. She whooped with delight when she saw the beautiful sixty-foot boat.

“Sweetheart, this is going to be our home for the next month.”

Robert, the Captain, welcomed them aboard as a crew member took their bags. Then without warning, Meeko swung Sunny over his shoulder, saying, “My lovely bride, I want this to be an adventure you’ll never forget.”

“You crazy fool! Put me down,” yelled Sunny, laughing and fighting playfully to get free as Meeko carried her aboard the boat. Upon learning the captain was one of Meeko’s prison buddies, Sunny was a little uncomfortable, but after being served a sumptuous lunch of fresh seafood and fine wines she felt reassured that he was a gentleman.

As the boat pulled away from the dock, Sunny and Meeko stood at the bow enjoying the wonderful breeze of the open sea as Meeko encircled her in his arms.

“My beautiful lady, do you like my surprise? We’re going to see many of the Caribbean islands on this trip. Do you realize that I don’t have to share you with anyone for a whole month? No phones, no managers and no family. I want this honeymoon to surpass all your dreams. Let’s create a world from our childhood fantasies, then live the fairy tale together.”

“Oh, Meeko, this is a dream come true. I never thought such things were possible except in the movies. It’s the perfect way to begin our life together. I love the romantic mood you’ve created. You’re the most extraordinary man I’ve ever known. Every day we spend together, I feel my love for you is greater than it was the day before and wonder how that’s possible.”

“Sunny, you are the woman of my dreams. I’ve always believed in your existence and knew you only had to be found. I knew from the moment we first met that you were my reason for living. Your touch creates such warmth in my heart. I thank Creator for sending you to me, and I want to spend my life making you happy. I never want either of us to go to bed angry, and I never want to make you cry unless it’s from happiness. Let’s promise if we ever argue, we won’t rest until it’s resolved. I want to always know that the smile on your face was put there by me. I never knew a love like this could exist between a man and a woman—we are one mind and soul. My Sweetheart, let’s not join the crew for dinner; instead, let’s go to the cabin and make wild, crazy love!” Meeko pressed his body hard against hers and for the moment both felt safe, wrapped in their dream.

Several minutes later Robert yelled, “Hey, look portside.” Meeko and Sunny saw a huge tan sea turtle floating in the water.“It’s got to be at least six feet wide!” Meeko hurriedly snapped pictures of Keya before she disappeared into the darkness of deeper waters.

“That’s a good sign! It proves our marriage will live to see old age. Sunny, did you know the grandmothers take the umbilical cord of a newborn and place it in a little leather bag shaped in the form of a turtle? They pin it to the baby to guarantee the child will live a long and healthy life.”

“Who doesn’t know that? I wore mine pinned under my shirt until I was almost five years old. In fact, I still have it."

“Did you know that Mother Earth was once called Turtle Island? I think the turtle came to remind us to live a long and healthy life together,” said Meeko, trying to impress Sunny with his knowledge.

“Hey, is that another old Indian saying, or is it your imagination acting up again?”

“Well, since I’m the only old Indian I know, it must be true.”

“Now let me tell you an old Indian story,” grinned Sunny.

“And what might that be?”

“See those seagulls flying overhead? The old people say they are masters at practicing the laws of gravity.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than a large bird dropping fell near Meeko.

“Laws of gravity, huh?” He swept his hand across the deck and pretending to pick it up as if it were something of great value, he studied it very carefully. “Sweetheart, I thought it was a raindrop, but it’s not. It’s a gift from the flying ones,” Meeko playfully wiped his hand on Sunny’s blouse. This air of carefree playfulness continued throughout the afternoon as they watched the land slowly fade from view.

As night approached and the sun completed another journey across the sky, both reflected on the first day of their honeymoon. Meeko gently said, “I pray there will be no darkened shadows born between us during this marriage. And as the fall of our lives approaches, I want the essence of our experiences to linger beyond our deaths as wilting petals of a rose. I want the core of all that we are to take root from this relationship so we can rebirth again and again to express a never-ending love for the rest of our incarnations.”

Chapter 16
The Beginning of the End

When they reached the Grandmother lodge, Shung' tied an eagle feather into Sunny’s hair, then demanded she enter properly and sit in the West Door. Shung' built a small fire at the center altar and prayed for all the winds to come. As the lodge began to groan and sway under the winds’ power, the flames seemed to leap through the top.

Sunny prayed fervently, “Wakan Tanka, please do not let this be true!”

“Oh, Tunka'shila, forgive my grandchild and take pity on her. She wishes for your will to be done and not hers. We come humbly to ask for direction in this matter, not to interfere with your plans.”

Sunny wept openly, thankful that Shung' was running the ceremony.

Taking two small decorated arrows and a bow from her parfleche bag, Shung' offered two prayers. At the end of each prayer, she cut two small vertical gashes on each of Sunny’s shoulders, then lit the two arrows and shot it through the top of the Grandmother Lodge.

Sunny, feeling nothing at first, soon soared into many worlds. She returned knowing her mind could no longer fool her eyes or ears.

After the ceremony, Shung' retrieved both the arrows and burned them in the fire.

They were back at the house, sitting quietly at the table, when, suddenly Sunny screamed, “Meeko is having sex with another woman!”

“You still don’t have any physical proof.”

“Yes, I do!” Grabbing a manila envelope filled with names, phone numbers and receipts, Sunny handed it to Shung', who studied the items closely before speaking.

“I see by these dates you’ve had the evidence all along. This should help you make a decision.”

“How can I accept that my husband is with another woman? He treated me like a bleeding heart and I became just another usable tool. The bastard only married me for money and the contacts I could give him! I’ve been a fool! Shung', I hate this truth.”

“Wrong! You hate nothing and you’re not a fool! You’re a woman in love with a man who loves you in a way you can’t accept.”

Screaming with pain and frustration, Sunny dashed out the door and ran for miles. Stopping at the Medicine Wheel, she lay down in the center crying, “How can he do this to a person he professes to love? Am I not worthy of a real love? If his betrayal is true, I no longer want this suffering. Wakan Tanka, please tell me what to do.”

Slowly Sunny felt herself gathering strength from her life experiences. Many flying ones came and listened to her prayers, pitying her for her sadness at being a mere human. Meanwhile the winds ever so gently whispered words of encouragement. She did not return to the house until long after dark.

Shung' set a plate of food in front of her and decreed, “It’s now time to talk from the heart.”

Sunny nodded and mumbled, “Please help me, Shung', I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Sunny, you are not an unloved person. People throughout the world love you, and their feelings are unrelated to Meeko and this other woman. You did nothing wrong, so stop your self-judgment! Accept that Meeko is with her because he wants to be. He’s not rejecting you, he’s rejecting himself—so get your ego and pride out of the way.

“What you fear is truth. That’s what’s eating your soul. He chose his own destruction, so stop blaming yourself for his actions. Start using that wonderful mind you possess and quit thinking from a heart filled with illusion. Yesterday is over! And since tomorrow has not yet arrived, you have today to fix the problem.”

Sunny phoned the motel, asking the desk clerk if there was a woman registered in her husband’s room. “Sunny, I’m sorry to tell you this, but they’ve been here for the past three weeks.”

“Will you send me copies of all charges on that account?”

“I’ll be happy to, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am that you are experiencing this kind of embarrassment.”

Within two days Sunny received the information, including a list of Meeko’s phone calls many of which were made to Cheyenne, Wyoming. She proceeded to find out who lived at that number. Taking this information to Shung', she said, “Each piece of proof I gather seems to confirm that the marriage is over. The hardest part to accept is the deception. He may have enjoyed himself with another woman, but he’ll never get over this woman’s scorn.”

A moment later the phone rang.

“That’s Meeko.” Picking it up, Sunny cooed, “What a surprise. The wandering husband hasn’t forgotten his home number.”

“Hello, Sweetheart. I’m coming home tomorrow. Is my car still parked at the airport?”

“Yes, if that’s where you left it—unless it’s been towed off as an abandoned vehicle.”

“Then there’s no reason for you to pick me up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Meeko was thrilled with Sunny’s calm reaction and said to his lover, Diane, “I can take you with me to Billings and you can catch your flight to Cheyenne from there. I have some last minute things to do. Here’s three hundred to buy yourself some pretty clothes.”

Everyone congratulated Meeko on his cleverness. Then Karl added, “Hey, Meeko, you are good. When you get home, remember the rule: deny everything, demand proof and ask for pictures.”

As Sunny hung up the phone, tears rolled from her eyes and she dropped to her knees in prayer. “Please, Wakan Tanka, don’t make me live with my greatest fear. I don’t want to become an abandoned wife.”

“Pray right or don’t pray at all. I am proud of you because your ego did not demand that you mention the other woman while you had him on the phone. But know this, when you ask about the affair, he will lie.”

“Shung', how can I love him so deeply, yet no longer know him?”

“Love makes people act in strange ways. It will take much thought to find the answers, but you will eventually do what’s best for the both of you. Since Meeko will be here in the morning, I’ll go to Ida’s. This will allow you to face your enemy alone, so you can rebuild in a strong way.”

After watching Shung' leave, she turned on the stereo and put in a tape. Turning up the volume, she heard the words, ‘the days of wine and roses, laugh and run away, like a child at play.’ Just like my marriage, she thought sadly as she pondered how to go about facing Meeko.

Sunny mourned the death of her marriage and saw its ghost fade into months of lonely nights. Even the shimmering city lights that once comforted her evoked feelings of isolation in her visions of a dim future without Meeko. She sobbed as her mind traveled back through the five wasted years of their marriage. Reliving her efforts to climb the ladder of fame, she saw that show business was another illusion. She watched as faded dreams paraded ghost-like before her, and acknowledged to herself that Meeko had been unfaithful. A traditional law had been broken, and the only choice left was divorce. But although the thought of Meeko in the arms of another woman made her livid, she realized she must control her anger and remain civil during their upcoming conversation. Finally, she stilled her mind and drifted off to sleep.

When Sunny awakened at ten o’clock the next morning, Meeko still had not arrived, so she called the Flight Service Station and asked, “Did the Cessna 210 arrive from Fort Peck Indian Reservation yet?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it arrived at seven o’clock this morning,” the voice answered. Sunny hung up the phone knowing that once again she had been deceived.

Minutes later the phone rang, and thinking it might be Meeko, Sunny jumped to answer it. But instead it was her friend the bank manager, saying, “I’m calling to tell you that your husband and a young girl were here at the bank and she left a bag filled with clothes that I thought she might need. Would you like me to have it dropped off at your house?”

“That would be nice. I’ll see that Meeko’s friend gets her clothing.”

She slammed the phone down and began to pace the floor, enraged at Meeko’s audacity in parading this other woman around town.

After leaving the motel, Meeko dropped Diane off at the airport. She was only seventeen, and he was sending her home to get her mother’s permission for Diane to return and live with him. Glancing at his watch he knew he had to hurry if he was going to see Sunny and get back to the airport to pick Diane up by six.

Chapter 17
Sunny Returns to Sundance

Driven by humiliation and rejection, Sunny was determined to regain the strength needed to return to the stage and prove her self-worth. She flew to New York and once again, hating the expectations placed on her by others, she confronted them feverishly. Kate was very supportive but could only watch the heartbreak that seemed to dog Sunny’s life.

Sunny’s existence became an endless routine of eating, sleeping and working. She traveled extensively throughout the world and her fame grew, but her personal life continued to deteriorate. Riddled with doubts and fears, she became a confused and unfulfilled woman, desperately searching her past for answers to the many questions that remained hidden behind a wall of futility.

Sleep had become just a word. Many mornings Sunny lay watching the sunrise while exploring many disturbing questions that had no answers. As she tried to reach the core of herself, she would ask: Who am I? What am I? What is the purpose of my birth? Sunny pondered these questions over and over until fatigue drove her to desperation.

In all this confusion, Sunny feared she was approaching the borders of insanity. Trapped behind this barrier of despair, she would drop to her knees, pleading to Wakan Tanka to help her return to the old teachings to find her heart. But try as she might, Sunny felt disconnected from Creator and knew her prayers were useless words. Tired of living with these tortuous, serpentine thoughts, Sunny cried out from the essence of her soul:

“Oh Coyote, Coyote, Coyote! How you walk on my mind, yet I can only hear your echoes in my pain. My lost soul cries out in unbearable loneliness. Oh Coyote, am I a fool that consistently just catches my own tail?” But within her heart, Sunny knew she was the biggest trickster in her life.

One evening when she had finished her last show on the island of Fiji and was waiting for the elevator to go to her room, her chest tightened and her heart began to pound rapidly. Filled with terror, Sunny knew she was being engulfed in a full blown panic attack. She dug into her handbag and pulled out a fistful of pills, swallowing them as best she could. Getting no relief, she raced through the lobby and headed to the beach, hoping to escape whatever was trying to take her life. She ran until exhaustion took over, then stood gasping for air in the blackness of night—alone, so very alone. She thrust her fist to the sky, frantically challenging Wakan Tanka:

“I’ve tried hard to follow a good way, but the knowledge to get there escapes me. I hate myself for letting life cut such deep wounds into my soul. I can’t take any more! What have I done to bring such wrath upon me? I’m tired of this struggle and I beg you, give me life or give me death! Release me from this agony, or take back your breath of life and let me breathe no more! Oh, Great Spirit, if you refuse me then take pity on my soul and stop this pain.”

The only answer she heard was the sound of waves breaking on the shore. In a fit of rage, Sunny defiantly walked into the ocean, allowing her body to sink into the murky darkness. She entered a long tunnel and peace came over her. A light beckoned her onward and she heard a gentle voice say, “Go back, my child. It is not yet your time.”

Sunny yearned to stay where she was until she found herself surrounded by many remorseful earthbound souls who had taken their lives. Realizing she too would become one of them and suicide was not the answer to her problems, she backed away from the light.

From far above, Sunny watched as a black man lifted her body from the water and placed her on the beach. As her soul re-entered her body, she began to vomit profusely and gasp for air. Slowly becoming aware, she opened her eyes to find a crowd had gathered and some were taking pictures. Fearing her career would be ruined, she stared into the eyes of the black stranger, mutely begging him to cover her face as she was put into an ambulance.

In the emergency room, a staff doctor examined her and found she was in good physical health, but expressed concern over her mental state. Afraid her suicide attempt would become public, Sunny appeased him with lies, saying, “I just swam out too far and wasn’t strong enough to get back to shore.”

The next morning she was released from the hospital and was relieved to see the story was not in the newspaper. She returned to the hotel and was walking to the elevator when the mysterious black man approached her.

“Hey, lady! I’m the one who saved your life. I’m thankful you’re all right.”

Sunny opened her purse and thrust five twenty dollar bills at him stating, “I suppose this will keep you quiet!”

The gentle stranger pushed her hand aside, then answered in a sweet voice, “No thank you, lady. But please get some help.” He turned and walked away.

Dumbfounded, Sunny watched as he quickly vanished into the crowded street.

Three days later as Sunny was boarding a plane for Australia, she searched the crowd and was thrilled when she saw the mysterious stranger waving to her. After the plane lifted into the air Sunny, haunted by the stranger’s presence, stared out the window vowing she would unlock the painful door to her troubled soul.

Upon her arrival in Sydney, she was greeted with great fanfare and quickly escorted to a waiting limousine. The driver handed her a packet of information about places she might like to visit, then drove her to Kings Cross where she checked into the hotel and met with the staff from the St. George League Club to prepare for the press party that evening. Within the week, Sunny was performing before packed houses, once again using the stage to hide from the reality of her life.

During the day she spent her free time visiting the zoo. One morning she spotted a group of koala bears chewing on eucalyptus leaves high in a gum tree. She called softly to them. A guard tapped her on the shoulder and informed her she was not to touch the animals.

When the guard was out of view she mind-linked with one of the koalas. It soon crawled down the tree and onto her shoulder. As she stroked its soft fur, a little paw reached out and touched her hair. As they stared into each other’s eyes with great curiosity, the koala bear ever so gently removed her red hair ribbon, then slowly inched back up the tree with its bounty. The magical connection with this foreign animal rekindled a flame of warmth in Sunny’s heart and life suddenly felt better. She continued to visit her new little friend, always leaving a red ribbon as a token of their friendship.

Sunny became an avid runner and continued her endurance training in a nearby park. She was curious about the aboriginal people she met there and soon had made friends with a few of them. They were inquisitive about this American Indian and insisted she was an Apache with Samantha eyes. They were shocked to learn that she did not know John Wayne personally.
Sunny soon found she had much in common with these new friends of hers. Each day they met to discuss their shared knowledge of the subtleties of nature’s teachings. One day they suggested that Sunny meet their elders on a walkabout. Since Australia was at the end of her tour, Sunny was intrigued with the idea of going on a walkabout with the native people.

Sunny was amazed at how easy it was for her to understand the aboriginal way of life, whether it was eating, gathering food or praying. She loved the barren openness of the terrain and soon found she had reconnected to the sensitivity of Mother Earth and this was beginning to free her troubled mind.

The gentle aboriginal people understood her needs and reaffirmed to her that the sacredness of living a good life was the only way to feed her soul. For the first time, she was beginning to replace the broken pieces of her old sorrows and walk back to her heritage, knowing that would be where she would find her face.

Sunny sadly bid these magnificent people goodbye and graciously thanked the elders who had so kindly helped her find the thread of truth that led her back to becoming the dreamer that her grandmother had predicted so long ago.

Ever searching for her soul, Sunny boarded a plane for Mexico City, where she was met by José, an elderly man who was to become her guide and interpreter to the many places they would visit on her journey.

Sunny was driven by her quest. Each place she visited held a different key to the old sacred knowledge that was so deeply ingrained in these lost cultures. She no longer felt as inept, and soon was walking peacefully amongst the relics of the old ruins. She examined many of the crumbling statues that still held onto the past even though they had almost been conquered by time. This place had once been a flourishing civilization, and Sunny wept over the lost knowledge, hoping that someday it might be rediscovered.

Sunny felt her mind slip away as she sat among these old sculptured figures. She envisioned many books that were bound with golden leather, falling gracefully from a misty sky. Instinctively she knew that they contained the old knowledge that had been lost for centuries.

Sunny continued to travel from country to country searching for ancient knowledge. She discovered one of her past lives and found it was filled with the study of old Medicine. She cried with joy when she realized her need to explore was broadening her comprehension and healing her pain.

She and José traveled through the isolated areas of Central America, filling her with a richness of old past memories. Each place seemed to provide her with another thread to weave into the tapestry of herself and allowed her to learn the oldest philosophies about Mayan numbers and calendars. Sunny began to understand the true meaning of time, space, measure and dimension.

One day as she reflected back on Shung's words, she burst out laughing. Here again, the seeds that her beloved teacher had planted were walking strongly on her mind. She could still hear Shung' say: “Time is mankind’s worst enemy. Time eats up everything, that is if you look at it in a three-dimensional space. But if you speak of time in multidimensional levels, then you have the ability to go beyond time and space as we know it.”

Shung's voice rang inside her head. “Sku'ya, stop limiting yourself. Travel to another time and space with this newfound knowledge. That is the only way you will learn about the billions of universes that have existed throughout all eternity.”

Sunny closed her eyes, breathed slowly and there sat Shung'. “Can Bear become Buffalo? Can Coyote become Eagle? Can you become the person you were born to be? The knowledge you are seeking will not be withheld from you if you come from your heart. True power comes from focused attention and your belief system can only be attained through patience and perseverance. Apply what you know and quit trying to force your growth.”

Slowly Sunny began to realize how hard Shung' had struggled to teach her and felt ashamed that she had been such an unwilling apprentice. Feeling guilty over her past behavior, Sunny finally appreciated the gift of a caring medicine teacher.

After that everything began to talk to Sunny, proving to her that she was standing in the center of her power. No longer was she afraid to walk the web of faith back to the old Grandmother’s Lodge. How patient the spirits of the grandmothers had been in their willingness to guide her precarious walk through those bad times. This knowledge helped her give in to the spirits of limitless power. Through her diligence in Shadow World, she went beyond time and space and entered into the multidimensional levels of spirit where she found many things that were not of this world. Having nothing in this world to compare these things with, Sunny found she could not comprehend many of their meanings.

Chapter 18
Medicine Woman

A year and half later, Shung' called to say it was time for Sunny to come home. “My little mutt, meet me in Cheyenne in two weeks.” Sunny hung up the phone, thrilled that her tour would be over in ten days.

It was early spring and still chilly in Wyoming, and Sunny looked forward to seeing the budding new growth piercing through the snow banks as the seasons fought to maintain their time on Mother Earth. The day her show closed she hopped on the first flight to Denver where she picked up a rental car to drive to Cheyenne.

It was a happy moment when Sunny at last embraced Shung'. But the medicine woman had little time for displays of affection and was in a hurry to get on with more important things. They spent the night in Cheyenne and the next morning loaded the car with enough camping supplies to last a week. As they left the motel Shung' mentioned that she had received the new below and above maps Sunny had sent, and was quite pleased with the growth they showed.

“I like the way that you’ve used your Medicine Wheel training to apply the earth knowledge to find how it is connected with the stars.”

“I went back to Grandmother’s stories and recalled the power of each gatekeeper on the Medicine Wheel. Then I connected them to the animals that live in the sky. It was Bear and Cougar that helped me see more clearly what I needed to do to stay on the good red road. Little did I know when you sent me back to work, that I would need these two animals to survive in the manipulative world of show business.

“It was Bear that made me set strong boundaries against management, and Cougar reminded me to stay detached from my emotions so I could see through all the control issues that were keeping me in a state of confusion.”

“It made me very sad to send you away, but I knew if I didn’t you would always come to me for your answers. You needed to learn to stand up for yourself, and so I did to you exactly what Cheering Woman did to me so many years ago to build my confidence.”

As they drove along in silence, Sunny wondered what new mystery her medicine teacher was preparing for her to experience. As if reading her mind, Shung' informed Sunny they were headed for Medicine Mountain to see one of the oldest and most sacred Medicine Wheels. She went on to speak in great length about the old world calendars and the secrets that lay hidden within each stone of the Big Horn Medicine Wheel.

The winds blew a constant blanket of powdery snow across the roads, sometimes blinding Sunny’s view. By late afternoon they finally arrived in the vicinity of the Big Horn mountain range. Sunny could not believe the vastness of the landscape before her. As far as she could see the beautiful, silent land was covered with a soft white blanket of freshly fallen snow. They saw herds of deer and elk scattered across the terrain. As they reached ten thousand feet, the women smiled at one another knowing they had finally reached the end of their journey.

Sunny parked the car and popped the trunk, taking out their warm clothing and blankets before joining Shung' on the long walk up the mountain. As she followed Shung' along the old trail, Sunny noticed many tobacco ties fastened to tree branches. When they reached the top, both were short of breath and thankful the cold wind was dying down. Sunny set up the tents while Shung' built a warm fire and made a pot of coffee. When the campsite was established, they sat near the fire curled up in blankets as they drank steaming cups of coffee and caught one another up on what had been going on in their respective lives.

As the darkness of night slowly engulfed them, Shung' pointed out the stars as they appeared in the sky. The moon was full and Sunny could easily observe the placement of the stars as they presented themselves in the heavens. Finally Shung' spoke:

“Do you see the seven sisters in the buffalo’s head? Look further toward the Milky Way and you’ll find three stars aligned in the belly of the buffalo. Well, long ago when those three stars appeared a certain way in the sky, it told the medicine people that the stars were lining up with the sacred places on Mother Earth and it was time for ceremony. Now look over there. Do you see Aldebaran? That tells us it will be twenty-eight days until Rigel makes its presence. Then in another twenty-eight days we can see the presence of Sirius in the tail of the buffalo.”

Sunny was awestruck by the way the words seemed to flow like a melody from Shung's mouth.

“This is the oldest Medicine Wheel in North America. The ancient ones knew how to use the stars for guidance on Mother Earth. The sky has always told us when the season’s will change, when to plant, when to fish, when to hunt and when to have ceremony. I hold great honor and appreciation for these sacred teaching left by the old medicine people.”

As they entered the Medicine Wheel Shung' offered tobacco and gave thanks for the ancient knowledge placed in the simple stone designs that lay at their feet. She spoke to Sunny about the great importance of the outer circle of the Medicine Wheel, then explained how each stone kept the records of the moon, planets and stars. She explained the significance of the stones in the inner wheel and how they could bring about changes in an individual’s life, reminding Sunny again of the importance of their correct placement.

“All of these sacred things teach us to live and perform within exactness in our ceremonies, just as our forefathers did long ago. Sunny, it’s time to alter your mind and focus on the center circle. Feel the true meaning of humility and appreciation, then step into that center with your mind and let your energy flow with you as you travel northwest until you reach the altar of Wakinyan. Stay there until you meet his alter ego, the likable giant. When you’ve made this connection you will understand that an ego destroys real power.”

Glad that she had practiced daily on this exercise, Sunny closed her eyes and did as instructed. A swallow appeared on her mind screen and slowly turned into the good-natured giant. She watched him shape-shift into Wakinyan, the Thunderbeing. Sunny felt his touch and was thrilled to know Wakinyan had finally accepted her as his pupil.

It was two hours before Sunny left the Medicine Wheel. Shung' spoke as she approached, “Sunny, it’s good to see you’ve gotten rid of your fear of seeing spirits. I take great pride in seeing you stay focused in an altered state for long periods of time. I now know that you can visit Shadow World with your eyes wide open. Now bring me your latest maps and let’s see if your star placements are as correct as I think they will be.”

Shung' threw a log on the fire as Sunny unrolled the two maps. Shung' examined the them carefully, noting with pride they matched perfectly. Sunny felt pleased by the medicine woman’s approval and as she quietly rolled them up again, Shung remarked, “I see you’ve spent many hours on those maps. Come, let’s have a good meal together and we’ll spend the rest of the night studying the shadows of Hanwi.”

Sunny hugged Shung' respectfully, saying, “Thank you for allowing me to spend some time alone with you.”

“And I with you, Granddaughter. I’ve missed you around here.”

As the sun touched the horizon with first light, Sunny awoke to a cloudless sky and a chilly morning. She dressed warmly then joined Shung' for a hearty breakfast. Wrapped in blankets, both women huddled close to the fire, waiting for the sun’s rays to warm another beautiful day in the raw nature of Wyoming. Within minutes the fiery ball of the sun gazed down on Mother Earth as the crisp morning air swept across the untouched terrain, giving the place a sense of spiritual purity.

Sunny was filled with excitement knowing this day would bring her many adventures before the sun went over down. She was deeply moved to see each ray of the sun touch the Stone People as it painted its way to the center of the sacred Medicine Wheel. She knew it was time to follow the solar clock as a Skywalker and walk in a proper manner upon Mother Earth.

Shung' was well aware that Sunny’s heart was open and felt good that her apprentice could finally see the sacredness in all things. Smiling, she thrust her chin forward, motioning for Sunny to join her in another walk around the ancient circle. As they moved from stone to stone around the Medicine Wheel, Shung' described the hard work it had taken to build this eight-hundred-year-old structure which looked simple to the untrained eye, yet contained all the heavenly patterns.

“Keep in mind, Sunny, each of these stones carries its own knowledge. Each stone also works in unison with the others, connecting to the twenty-six or more above and below dimensions.” The two women talked for hours about the visible and invisible ever-changing power that lay hidden deep within each stone.

“Shung', I could stay here for the rest of my life and never learn all the secrets that are hidden in these stones.”

“Ah, yes. Everything in time, and everything takes time—and time eats everything. We skins don’t measure time like white people, we just enjoy it.”

It was almost three in the afternoon when they trudged down the mountain to continue their quest. Two days later they reached the vicinity of Paha Sapa. They saw Harney Peak in the distance among the granite and stone, stretching high above the timberline. Sunny smiled as she recognized the home of Wakinyan.

“Can you feel his power?” asked Shung'.

“Ah Shung, I can feel the very essence of his power,” beamed Sunny.

“Long ago our elders would come here to seek a vision to gain their medicine powers.”

As they continued their drive and dark clouds began to accumulate overhead, Sunny’s mind slipped back to thoughts of Wakinyan. She could envision him flying from the top of this great summit, shooting lightning bolts from his one eye as he traveled across the world eradicating destructive human thought. Suddenly a loud clap of thunder jolted her back to reality.

“That is Wakinyan’s voice warning us to walk cautiously in his area,” reminded Shung'. “Many of our ancient prophets climbed that peak and I have lived to see many of their predictions come true. Turn here!” commanded Shung'. “I want to show you something.”

Veering south toward Paha Sapa, they entered a grassy area and parked. Shung' led Sunny up a trail to a remote spot known as Wind Cave. She peered inside, then crawled though the small entrance and motioned for Sunny to join her.

Sunny leaned inside just far enough to hear a loud sigh coming from somewhere deep within the cave. Stepping back, she answered, “No, I have no desire to go in inside. I’ve heard of too many people that went in and never came out.”

But Shung' had already vanished into the bowels of the cavern and did not hear. Sunny called out again and again but there was no reply. An hour later she reappeared, scolding, “Stop yelling before you break my eardrums!” As they walked back to the car, she remarked, “Sunny, sometimes I wonder what I’m going to do with you and your senseless superstitions. I swear that you act just like Sam, and you know how limiting that is. I brought you here to experience the doorway to the Pte Oyate’s history, so that you can understand that good principles are timeless.

“My word, Granddaughter, we would never have had the great buffalo herds without the underworld. It was Buffalo who gifted the people with survival when they first emerged onto middle world. The old people once said that when the buffalo first came into our world, they were so small that you could almost hold them in the palm of your hand. But when they took first breath, they grew to the size they are today. It was through this miracle that the plains became filled with Buffalo who always took care of the people’s needs.

“Look around. Can’t you feel Buffalo’s spirit in these bountiful grasslands? Long before the white man came, buffalo herds spread across these plains as far as the eye could see. When the white man killed them off the spirits grew very angry, and the Pte Oyate let the herd dwindle to almost nothing to always remind the people of the horrible thing the Europeans had done to our nation.

“Ah yes, this was shameful. For some reason the white race has little regard for the betterment of the people—a situation that has destroyed the harmony among all races. Why even within our own culture, there is little social bonding left between tribes and clans. Our oldest of prophets say that someday people of all races will come together and the buffalo herds will return to the land, bringing back the sacredness to all of Wakan Tanka’s creations.” As they drove off Sunny noticed that Shung' seemed as pure as an innocent child, which seemed to be a direct result of their mysterious journey.

It was nearly dark when they approached the little town of Hermosa. Shung' insisted they continue driving until they reached the group of high-cropped hills off in the distance. When they had reached their destination, Sunny stopped the car and Shung' started out across an open field with Sunny close behind. In the darkness, Sunny tripped over a rock. Cursing vehemently, she began to massage her skinned knee.

Annoyed by Sunny’s immature behavior, Shung' scolded, “You certainly are impatient with yourself. If you can’t feel where you are, then I suggest you buy a flashlight.”

“Shung', I’m tired and hungry. What’s the purpose of this stop?” grumbled Sunny.

Shung' turned around and stared coldly at Sunny, “Wait a minute, girl! You came to me to learn these ways! Are you trying to tell me how I should teach you? If so, then I’ll stop right now! You anger me with your impatience when you are overly tired. You don’t have a clue how to be one with the land on a dark night. Maybe you need to go back to New York and re-establish your survival instincts!” snapped Shung', picking up her pace as she walked away.

Sunny could hear Shung' mumbling under her breath, “How can this be, Grandfather? I’m an old woman and my health is failing, yet you give me a spoiled brat to contend with, and all she does is whine, whine, whine!”

Sunny knew she had breached the unspoken agreement between pupil and teacher. Fearing that she would be shunned for the rest of the trip, she caught up with Shung' and apologized profusely in an attempt to bring back the closeness between them. As they crested a barren hill, Shung' eased the tension by speaking of the radiant full moon and of the brothers and sisters of the solar system. Soon they sat down to watch the sky nation move across the heavens.

“Sunny, everything in life has its own time,” began Shung' once again inspired to teach. “It was our ancestors who first observed the vibrating waves from Wakan Tanka’s heavens shower down and bathe the earth with new information in hopes that the people would learn to accept the flow of knowledge that came as a sacred gift from above.

“Look at the North Star. Remember what your sweet grandmother said before she died? ‘Sunny, when you are afraid or lonely, look up to the North Star and you will always find me there watching over you.’ Now look directly above the North Star and you will see Wakinyan. Move your eyes slightly to the right and you will see the Salamander. Let your eyes wander westward and you see the Turtle. Right beneath the turtle is the rack of Elk. Now just above the elk the sky tells us it’s time to gather the red willow bark and mix our sacred tobaccos for our pipes. If you look to the South you can see groupings of other animals. Below them is the Snake.

“Remember when Cheering Woman taught you about the sacred racetrack around Paha Sapa? Well, that too appears in the sky. Look to the East and you will see Bear Lodge. Next to that is our Old Man Four Generations fire pit. Move your eyes over to the Big Dipper, and we’re back where we started. This is the sacred circle that joins the below and above worlds. Now do you see how simple it is to connect the sky powers to Mother Earth and use this knowledge when loading your pipe?”

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