Thunder on the Plains Read online

  We passed the Rocky Point tribal office, a pizza parlor, a video store, a feed and hardware store, a gas station, and a few other shops. I was surprised by all these “modern” conveniences.

  A few more miles of driving among the hills and fields took us to Robert’s house. Grandpa called it the Wind family home. It looked really run-down to me.

  There was a plain older house, a couple of horse corrals, a barn, and two sheds that kind of leaned to one side. A tractor and a pickup truck were parked out by the barn. A broken- down old Chevy was turning to rust beside the house.

  “We all live here together,” Grandpa said as we got out of the car. “Three generations sharing one house. Many families on the reservation live together, making the best of what they have.” The look on my face must have told Grandpa I wasn’t impressed. “Your father grew up in this house,” he added.

  That was good to know. A connection to Dad. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m just tired and hungry.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” Grandpa said with a smile.

  Inside I met my uncle’s new wife, Amanda, and my cousins, Crow and Rabbit. Grandpa said we were all very small when we saw each other the last time. I didn’t remember.

  Amanda was a pretty American Indian woman. She welcomed me to their house and said it was always good when someone in the family came home for a visit.

  “It might seem a little crowded at first,” Amanda said. “But I’m sure you’ll get used to it. You’ll be outside most of the time anyway. Crow and Rabbit are.”

  Crow was thirteen and Rabbit was twelve. They didn’t seem so friendly.

  “My dad said you were getting into trouble at school,” Rabbit announced. “That’s why they sent you here, to straighten you out.” Great. Everything out in the open. At least I knew where I stood with them.

  “That’ll be enough out of you, young man,” Grandma said to Rabbit. She pushed the younger boy into the living room.

  “Crow, why don’t you help Danny get settled into your room?” Grandpa suggested.

  Crow led me toward the back of the house to their room. It was a small room with two sets of bunk beds.

  “You can take this bunk near the door,” Crow said. “It’s where company always sleeps when we have a ceremony or a powwow.” I dumped my stuff on the lower bunk and looked around. There were three posters on the wall: a powwow dancer, some rock ’n’ roll band, and a picture of a woman in a red bathing suit named Pamela Anderson from an old TV show.

  Amanda brought in some clean sheets and bed covers for my bed.

  “Crow, why don’t you show Danny around the place while I fix his bed,” she said. Then she told him something in the Cheyenne language, which I didn’t understand. In English, she added, “Dinner will be ready in just a little while.”

  In my tour of the house, I found that they did have electricity, telephones, radio, and even TV. Rabbit was in the living room watching an old “Johnny Quest” cartoon, one of my favorites. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  Crow led me outside to look around. I saw that the barn and corrals held horses, goats, and a few chickens. The natural surroundings were nice enough. But I was already getting homesick for the sounds of the city. Where were the cars, the jet planes, the sirens, the tall buildings, the McDonald’s?

  Crow went back inside the house, leaving me to explore a little on my own. I took a walk around the outside of the house. As I turned the corner to the side of the house, my eyes fell on a wonderful sight. It was a small gray satellite TV dish bolted to a cement pad in the ground. There was a black cable running from the dish into a socket on the side of the house. Digital satellite television! I was beyond excited.

  I ran inside and found the TV remote control on the couch in the living room. The channel surfing began. All the great channels were there: MTV, Animal Planet, Nickelodeon, Disney, Discovery Channel, Cartoon Network. I was in teen heaven.

  It wasn’t long before my uncle got home from work. I was watching an old episode of Star Trek Voyager when I heard him.

  “Hi, Danny,” he said loud enough to be heard over the TV.

  “Uncle Robert!” I exclaimed, putting the TV on mute. I had forgotten what a big man he was. He had brown skin and was muscular like my dad. He even had the same single braid of long black hair down his back. He sat down next to me on the couch.

  “It’s good to see you, Danny. I’m glad you came.”

  “I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” I said hopefully.

  “I know you haven’t been out here in a long time. I also know that everything is different from what you’re used to,” Robert said. “Just relax and give it chance. Things are going to work out fine.”

  He smiled. I smiled back. It felt like a part of my dad was with me now.

  “Let’s go and see what your grandma and Aunt Amanda have fixed for dinner.”

  As we ate, Robert told the family about his plans for the summer. He had already signed up Crow, Rabbit, and me for part-time jobs with the tribe’s summer youth program. Crow and Rabbit moaned at that news, but it sounded kind of cool to me. A summer job.

  He said we’d be working as part of a “handyman” crew fixing up the homes of elderly tribal members a few hours a day. Our afternoons would be free, with time to help out with household and barnyard chores. Even I moaned when I heard that news.

  “The wilderness survival camp will start the end of June,” he said. “Crow and Rabbit will help me run the camp, like they’ve done for the last two summers.” The two boys proudly puffed their chests out a little. I could tell they liked the camp. Being their father’s assistants made it even better for them.

  I, on the other hand, must have been frowning as Uncle explained the camp.

  “Not much of a nature boy, Danny?” Crow teased. “Don’t worry. Us wild country Indians will go easy on you, you being a civilized city Indian and all.”

  “Crow!” Robert said sternly. “Danny is family. And he’s your guest, so act proper!” He finished the scolding in Cheyenne.

  Crow ducked his head slightly. “Yes, Dad,” he said.

  After dinner, Crow and Rabbit were definitely more friendly.

  I showed off my laptop computer to my cousins. They showed me where there was a phone jack to plug in and send e-mail from. I e-mailed my first report to Jesse back in L.A.

  I also showed them a few of the graphics tricks I could do. Now it was my country cousins’ turn to be impressed with this urban skin.

  I went to bed with a jumble of thoughts going through my head. I had reconnected with Uncle Robert. And I had discovered that digital satellite TV had made it to the reservation. Now it seemed I’d be able to survive a summer here.

  I was still worried about how I was going to fit in with the reservation routine, though. That was the last thought that went through my mind before I nodded off to sleep.

  Chapter 6

  The Buffalo People

  Robert made sure we were up bright and early the next morning so we could get ready to report for our first day of work.

  “Rise and shine, you sleepyheads,” he blared. He was in way too good a mood for that time of morning. “Time to join the human race.”

  “Is he always this cheerful in the morning?” I asked my cousins sleepily.

  “Yeah, Dad makes every day seem like a day at army boot camp,” Crow replied, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  I could smell sausage and biscuits cooking in the kitchen. My brain cells began to kick into action. And so our summer routine began.

  After breakfast, Robert took us to the tribal offices where he introduced me to the head of the summer jobs program.

  Then we jumped into the back of a pickup truck filled with rakes, mowers, shovels, and hoes. We headed off to the first elder’s home in need of repair.

  Every morning we cleaned yards, mended fences, fixed walkways, painted walls, hauled off junk, and mowed lawns. The elderly residents wer
e very grateful. They often gave us cookies, lemonade, and other goodies.

  But I also had to work at being accepted by the other kids in the program. As a newcomer from the city, I took a lot of teasing.

  Our afternoons were spent doing chores around the farm or ranch or whatever it was. With the help of Amanda, Grandpa, and my cousins, I learned how to care for the animals on the property.

  In my spare time, I watched TV, worked on my computer, and exchanged emails with Jesse back home. I showed Crow and Rabbit how to access websites with images on the Internet. I also taught them how to take images from different sources, merge them together, and create new images. They thought it was pretty cool.

  In exchange, Crow and Rabbit showed me how to ride horses. The family owned several of them. The horses were used to being ridden on a regular basis. So a couple of times a week, we headed out for the reservation’s wide open spaces. There ain’t nothin’ in L.A. like that.

  One afternoon, after I had finished my barnyard chores, Grandpa Nathan took me into the house. He led me to a back room where he kept his special collection of old American Indian stuff. He sat me down on a campstool and took a seat in a big, old, faded brown chair in the corner.

  “Danny, what did your father teach you about the Cheyenne people before he died?”

  “Not much that I can remember, Grandpa. He was always too busy working and trying to make a living for us. We did go to powwows sometimes. But I usually just played with other kids there.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said. He picked up a long wooden box with a black handle that sat on a table beside his chair.

  “He always told me to be proud of being Cheyenne,” I added. “He had a collection of old pictures of Cheyennes in the 1800s, like Black Kettle, that he used to show me.”

  “Did he tell you about the Pipe, or the Sun Dance, or the Buffalo People?” He placed the wooden box in his lap.

  “No. What’s the Buffalo People?”

  “First things first,” Grandpa answered. He opened the box and pulled back a piece of deerskin that covered what was inside.

  “There are things that a Cheyenne boy of your age should start learning. Since your dad is gone, it will be up to your uncle and me to teach you these things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Important things. Cheyenne things,” Grandpa said.

  He pulled an old metal TV tray from the other side of the chair and set it between us. Then he took four little plastic bags from the box and placed them on the tray. Grandpa opened the bags and poured what looked like cooking herbs out on the tray. What was all this stuff?

  “I want to introduce you to four sacred gifts given to us by the Creator for our use,” Grandpa continued. “These are sage, sweetgrass, cedar, and tobacco.” He pointed at each as he spoke its name in Cheyenne. “Each one has a special use to help us as we perform our duties as human beings.”

  He reached once again into the box and took out a fan made of brown feathers. The handle of the fan was covered in beautiful beadwork. He put the fan nearby on the tray. Then he placed a metal bowl in the center of the tray.

  He took a pinch of the cedar and dropped it in the bowl. Then he took a couple of sprigs of sage and crumbled them into the bowl. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small lighter.

  “Stand up,” he said. I stood up.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “I’m going to give you a cleansing blessing,” Grandpa replied. He fired up the lighter and put the flame into the bowl. That got the mixture of sage and cedar burning. A stream of smoke that smelled sweet came up from the bowl.

  Taking the bowl in one hand and the feather fan in the other, Grandpa stood up. He began fanning the smoke toward me, spreading it over the front of my body. He sang a Cheyenne song as he fanned.

  Suddenly I remembered my dad doing this ceremony for me on my first day of school. He had said I could do this for myself anytime I was bothered by something or before an important event. I had totally forgotten about it.

  I stayed quiet and let Grandpa finish the ritual. Next, he stepped behind me. Grandpa fanned the smoke all over my back and legs and the top of my head.

  “Okay, that’s all for today,” Grandpa said. He sat down in his big stuffed chair. “We’ll start ‘Indian school’ tomorrow after your chores.” He began putting the items back in the box.

  I was a little puzzled about what had taken place. Just as I was about to ask a question, Grandpa said, “I’ll explain a little at a time as we go along. Tomorrow, we’ll start with the Buffalo People. Now run along and play with your cousins.” He smiled.

  And so it began. Almost every day after I finished my chores, I’d sit with Grandpa in the back room listening to tales of the days of Cheyenne glory. But Grandpa was really interested in telling me about the buffalo. He had books with paintings, drawings, and photographs of the animals.

  “The Buffalo People were the Creator’s greatest gift to our people,” Grandpa said. “We got almost everything we needed for life from them. But we did not take life from our Buffalo Brothers for the sport of it. First we asked their permission, respectfully. Then we used everything that they had to offer. We wasted nothing. And we honored them with our songs and dances. We were spiritually connected to them.”

  “Spiritually connected? What does that mean?”

  “It means they were part of us. And we were part of them. That’s why we called them our brothers.”

  My grandfather’s stories painted beautiful pictures in my mind of the olden days. That was a time when the Cheyenne people were free and lived close to the earth. Grandpa longed for those “good old days.” Back then, the buffalo roamed the plains and the Cheyenne moved their camps regularly to be near them.

  “When a herd of the great beasts started a stampede, they made a loud rumble you could hear for miles,” he said. “It sounded just like thunder on the plains. That was a thrill!”

  My mind became filled with fantasies about those days. At night I dreamed about those powerful animals. Sometimes they could talk to me. And I could communicate with them. They told me they missed the old days too, when we played together. One night I dreamed that I was a Cheyenne hunter in the 1800s. I pictured myself riding on horseback across the plains with a hunting party in search of a herd. I woke up and my heart was pounding with excitement!

  Chapter 7

  In My Father’s Footsteps

  The time for survival camp finally arrived. We got our camping gear ready. On the last Saturday of June, Amanda cooked our final meal before we left. It was a hearty country breakfast of eggs, bacon, biscuits, and jelly.

  Amanda and my grandparents stood in the front doorway of the house. They waved as we pulled out in Uncle Robert’s pickup. We were headed to the tribal community center in Buffalo Gap.

  On the way to the center, Robert said, “Danny, during camp I’m going to treat you like I treat everyone there. So don’t expect any special favors. Got that?”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s for your own good. That way you’ll get the most out of the week.”

  “Okay.” That’s all I could think to say.

  We were the first ones to arrive at the tribal community center. We had to be there early so my uncle could greet the kids and their parents. A half dozen teenagers from other communities on the reservation were dropped off that morning.

  According to my uncle, these were kids who had been in some kind of serious trouble. We all kind of sized each other up as we waited for everyone else to arrive. One of the boys reminded me of my “favorite” bully back home, Willy.

  When all the campers had arrived, Robert called us together.

  “Okay kids, listen up,” Robert commanded. “You’re mine for a week. Mommy and Daddy won’t be here for you to run to or to kiss your boo-boos. I’m your mother, father, and teacher.” Everyone laughed nervously when he said the word “mother.”

  “And if you get out of line,” he co
ntinued, “I’ll be judge, jury, and executioner.” We stopped laughing. All of a sudden I had scary visions of Mr. Rippleton.

  “During your stay with me, you will learn to work together, like it or not,” he declared. “You’ll obey my orders at all times. We’ll be heading into some rough country, facing unpredictable weather situations. Your life could depend on doing exactly what I say, when I say it. Got that?”

  Nobody said a word.

  “Got that?” he repeated loudly.

  “Yes, sir,” a few of the teens replied weakly.

  Robert walked over to the biggest kid in the group. The guy was leaning against the side of the building. My uncle grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him upright.

  “I can’t hear you!” Robert yelled right in this kid’s face. He sounded like a boot camp sergeant.

  “YES, SIR!” the kid barked. Every kid in the group was paying attention now.

  My uncle smiled. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “What’s your name, young man?” he asked softly.

  “Cutnose, sir. Ben Cutnose,” he answered. Now he sounded nervous.

  Robert let go of the kid’s collar and straightened it out neatly.

  “All right, Ben. Now that we’ve got that straight, let’s begin. Pick up your gear and follow me.” He led all of us around to the back of the community center. Crow and Rabbit had ten horses waiting for us, saddled and ready to go. Robert easily mounted his.

  “Okay, mount up,” he said. Nobody moved.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Crow and Rabbit jumped up on their steeds. I was up on my horse next. My summer riding lessons were paying off. The rest of the kids struggled to get up on their animals. Some were having more trouble than others.

  “Worse than I thought,” Robert said. “Have any of you ridden before?” One girl raised her hand.

  “Oh, this is sad,” Robert said, shaking his head. “Your Cheyenne ancestors are turning over in their graves.”