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Birth of the White BuffaloThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by C.D.Walker | |
| Friday, 04 July 2008 | |
The bell hanging from the handle of the door rang, catching Emily’s attention, just in time for her to see a customer step through the portal. One thing she liked about working the register was meeting people from out of town. Listening to people talk with different accents fascinated her. People were strange creatures to her; so many different sizes and shapes, with colors ranging from fish belly white to the coal dark of night with every shade of brown, tan and beige in-between. Emily liked guessing at the lives of those who walked before her eyes while she worked at the general store in the small town of Fort Washakie, Wyoming. The man walking through the door right now looked average from his height to his hair. A short full beard hid his chin while his brown hair was close cropped to minimize the fact his hair was receding. When he turned to look at the merchandise, full sunlight struck his face and Emily saw the most amazing feature on him. His beard was a wonder in color. The heart of a tree was the center of his mouth and as the rings fell down his face, the colors shifted ever so subtly. Like every wood is a shade of brown, so were the colors of his beard as they ringed his mouth. The golden brown of honey ringed his lips and dripped off his chin. Along those honeyed edges were all the shades of reddish browns slowly darkening to mahoganies. She imagined his lips tasted and talked like all the sweetest things of this earth. While Treebeard looked through the merchandise, an old beat up pick-up parked out front. It looked like two Indians from the near by reservation when they got out. The young one held the shop door open for the older one and instantly Emily recognized the pair. The old man was Medicine Bear, who mumbled something to his son, Ghost Talker, who just nodded. Treebeard looked the odd couple over and not seeing anything of importance, turned back to the racks, wandering slowly up and down the isles. Medicine Bear walked just behind his son, who gathered everything they would need for the three or so weeks it would be before the two would wander back in. Ghost Talker never seemed to like being around anyone, let alone strangers, yet when he came down the same isle as Treebeard, he seemed at ease. If Emily didn’t know better, she would have swore the two knew each other somehow. In all her time working at the store, she never saw anyone make Ghost Talker seem comfortable. The two passed with a nod, to Emily’s shock. And when Medicine Bear and Treebeard nodded, she about fell over. Speaking always came easy to her, in fact, she knew gabbing was her vice, and she could usually pry a word or two out of Ghost, so she was completely surprised when he spoke first. “Evening Emily.” he said in strong quiet dignity. “Good evening to you Ghost.” She replied in obvious surprise Four brown eyes watched her solemnly as she added up the bill. He handed her cash, like almost every Indian, and Emily handed him his change, just like always. When Ghost reached for his change, Emily was shocked when he gently, but firmly, held her hand. Caught in his hypnotic eyes, she couldn’t look away from what she saw within them. Cities were burning, people were dying, and she swore she could feel the earth’s pain, like a mother who fears for her children. He blinked; Emily breathed and felt like she just awoke from a dream. “Strange things dance in the air tonight Emily.” saying that, he released her hand and the two Native Americans grabbed what they bought and walked out the door. She must have been in a daze, she never saw Treebeard walk up to her, and jumped like a hare when he spoke. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” said Treebeard just before starting to laugh a mischievous, teasing laugh. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I heard you call him Ghost and my mind lost control of my mouth. My name is Adonis.” His voice flowed like warm honey down her spin. He then offered his hand with such a charming smile attached, she couldn’t resist. “My name is Emily.” she said taking the offered hand, “Your visiting the area I take it?” she said it more as a fact than a question, with just a little disappointment in her voice, because she just saw Adonis’s eyes. A grey star had exploded around his pupils and those jagged grey spikes were flecked with browns, greens, gold, and hazel chips. A ring of dark blue spears surrounded the grey, forever locked in a battle she could watch for eternity. “Yes and no actually. You see I’m looking for a place to rent for a year or so while I write my dissertation on legends, myths, and folklore of the local Native American populations. I’d like to talk to the Arapaho, Shoshone, and any of the smaller nations that might have survived the push west. You wouldn’t happen to know any place I could rent for a year or so do you?” he said with words that felt like honey if honey could tickle and tease with its sweet intensity. Emily cleared her throat to speak only to realize she was still holding hands with the post grad student whose voice made her think of soft moments. Blushing at the intimacy, she snatched her hand back; too late she realized what such quick withdrawal could be taken for. Blushing with embarrassment she said “Depends if you’re looking for a room or a whole house. Hotels are up by Yellowstone and the old motels from the 60’s are rat and roach infested, so your options are limited.” God she hoped she didn't come off as cynical or sarcastic. She blushed some more for good measure. “A half of a house would be something to see indeed, but I would prefer a whole house, nothing fancy mind you, four walls, a stout roof, a stove, and a working fridge are all I need.” he said with joking mischief. His voice, still sweet to her ear, couldn’t break through her embarrassment. Gaining some control over her self she said, “Sounds like the old Crawford place would be best suited for you, it’s a little out of town, but the view of the surrounding land is worth the extra few miles. The Indians know where it’s at as well. Old Crawford was one of the first missionaries to come out to the reservation. Family lived there for years, but this generation built a new house couple years back with all the new amenities and for all I know, the old place just sits empty.” “Sounds perfect Emily. Where can I get a hold of the Crawford family to inquire about the house?” “Just go down to the “Good Medicine Diner”, the Crawford’s have been running it for two generations; someone down there will know who you need to talk to.” “Why thank you, if it all works out, would you mind showing me the house?” He said it more like a fact than a question. “Sure, I get off in two hours.” She heard her voice speaking, but Emily didn’t remember telling it to talk. “Thank you. Let me visit the diner and talk to who I need to. I’ll be back in two hours and tell you one way or another, sound fair?” All this he said over his shoulder while walking towards the door. “Sure.” she replied. “Hey! How’d you know my name?” She asked thinking of the strange moment with Ghost earlier. “Easy, I overheard old Bear and Ghost say it when they were talking to you. Bye.” and he walked out the door, got into his old jeep, and drove off towards the diner. Something about his last words just didn’t sit right with her, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. When he came back she would just have to mention it to Adonis. Until then she would just pass the time like always, do some sudoku and read the gossip magazines. Two hours seemed to drag on longer than her 24 years of life. Adonis’s image was burned into her retina. Thinking about the whole encounter for almost two hours brought up a few issues in her mind. First, she couldn’t place his accent. It lacked the twang of the south and the long sounds of the northeast. No foreign or Canadian undertones, nor was there a hint of the other English. Adonis spoke perfect American to Emily’s ears, yet she couldn’t tell you where in America it was used. Lack of an accent confused her along with his mischievous laugh and his strange eyes and stranger beard until she realized he was a whirlwind sweeping her up in his uniqueness. Strange things indeed are in the air she thought. “Great timing as well.” Emily muttered as Treebeards’ jeep pulled up to the shop five minutes before she closed. Nobody was this perfectly nice, yet mysterious with such average measurements, yet extraordinary features. He was perfectly irritating her already, and he had yet to open his mouth. The bell rang again, not unlike earlier, when Adonis first walked in. Two silver stars exploding on the bluest sky held her eyes while honey covered lips made her skin goose bump when he said “Emily! I got great news!” All irritation dripped from her fingers and toes as those words sent an army of warmth through her. “I got the place for a year, isn’t that something? You ready to take me out to the Crawford place, you know, show me where I’m going to live for awhile?” “Of course, let me just close up here and lock the door.” she said with shocked happy surprise. She grabbed her keys, walked over towards the door, herding Adonis out in front of her so she could lock the door behind her. Adonis had left the jeep door open for her, closing it was up to her. “Do you mind me asking what you did before you went to school?” she asked climbing in the vehicle. “No, not at all.” he said opening the jeep door for himself. “I used to shepherd my masters animals.” he answered sliding into the driver’s seat. “You were a shepherd and had a master?” Emily couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “Trust me, the guy has more land than you can imagine, and he’s a decent sort of guy really. If you piss him off enough though, he might strike you with the lightning side of his tongue if you know what I mean.” Adonis said with that honeyed, teasing, and mischievous tone. “Did you ever cry wolf?” she couldn’t resist asking. “Just once.” he replied and for once, no honey dripped words came out. “What happened? Did you get fired?” she asked. “Kind of, it took some fast talking by a really good friend who cared deeply about me to convince my master to let me keep my job. He agreed eventually, but with some stipulations.” again, no honey on his words. “Turn left here. What stipulations?” “If you don’t mind Emily, it’s a sore subject and I’d rather talk about happier times. Tell me about the Native Americans who live around here?” He finished his words with honey sweetly infused. She told him of the general hardships the Indians had suffered over the years while directing him through the old dirt roads. “Take the next right and the lane will lead you to the house.” “Would you mind coming in with me for a few moments while I check the interior out and make sure the lights work, things like that?” he asked with genuine need in his voice. By this time she couldn’t resist him. “Sure, but I can’t stay long, I have to get home.” She was lying, no one would be home waiting on her, but she didn’t want him to know that just yet. Getting out of the car, she looked the house over for the first time in years. The house was built well over one hundred years ago, just before the turn of the century. A rustic old white farmhouse, she was two stories tall with a small basement that used to serve as a root cellar in the days before electricity. The built in front porch was resting on a fieldstone foundation with turrets every fifteen feet into which the roof supports rested. A new paintjob would look good and she needed some work any good handyman could do. Emily ran up the porch steps as Adonis opened the door and walked into the house. Adonis fumbled for the light switch, found it, and then flicked the switch on to reveal the front room. The hardwood floors and inlaid wood trim gave the room a simple elegance suited for an, old, well built farmhouse. “The lights seem to work. So far all seems good.” Adonis spoke with soft tones of approval. He turned to Emily and said, “Emily my dear, please come here.” He said it more like a demand than a request. Emily couldn’t resist his starry eyes and honeyed voice any longer. She practically ran to him. He grabbed her, bringing her close. She looked in his eyes and felt his lips brush hers, leaving the taste of honey suckle as she fell through his eyes into his soul. Lost in his essence, she felt the history of human lust. The first moments were primal; lust was a need more important than food. Consumed, two animals rolled through leaves and dirt with anger, hunger, want, and selfish need to feel one moment of the divine. Seconds passed like hours. The next sensation was the sweet smell of hay and horses wrapped in the comfort and warmth of young love. Sweet, fumbling love for another, yet selfish roots still cling, like anger and need, but young love pushes these away in the hope this moment will last an eternity. A year moved like a minute and Emily felt naked and guilty. Sexuality leads to shame and guilt which makes her more sexual, and alive. Her master plays upon her guilt, shame and sexuality like an orchestra. Upon his rhythm she loses herself. She floats on waves of pain and pleasure, building her slowly to a crescendo, a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. Does she feel or hear the deep rhythm of life upon her skin? She is the volcano, building slowly to eruption. Soul shuddering, she screams as mother earth, and releases the Sun and all his light and warmth into the cold of night. Medicine Bear led the chanting through Emily’s screams until the voice of a child cried his first lament against the night. Emily was in a daze when the boy was first laid on her breast. In her daze she knew she held something important and wrapped her arms around the bundle of warmth under her chin. The mother rolled her head and when her eyes fell on the boy, they regained some focus and clarity. Instinctively the boy knew his mother was holding him and quieted. Mother and child looked at each other for a few moments with a peace only some souls are allowed to have. Emily kissed her boys crown, squeezed him once, and closed her eyes forever. Upon wind swept rocks overlooking the vast plains of Indian country, the White Buffalo cried for what has been lost. Ghost walked over to old Bear while the women comforted the spirits of child and mother both. “Is he the one?” he asked in a deadpan tone. Medicine Bear looked up at his son. “You feel it not? Ask spirits who hound you Ghost Talker.” He knew the answer before he spoke. “He must be White Buffalo. Other spirits run and hide while he screams his loss. He is cruelty and kindness; the hardest of men with the softest of hearts. The stars were right; Shepherd spirit came seducing She with Watching Eyes. Our work is just beginning old Bear.” He said with iron. Copyright 2008 C.D.Walker |
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| Last Updated ( Sunday, 06 July 2008 ) |
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