Blue Coyote Motel

by Dianne Harman

  People drove for miles to come to the casino, which the tribe had made into a destination resort. Like the golf courses in the Palm Springs area, they had put water on the arid desert land which allowed them to build an award-winning golf course. A five star hotel with a fashionable spa rose off the desert floor. The old adage "Build It and They Will Come" had never been truer. Because the casino and spa were on tribal land, it cost far less to stay and play there. It was an easy drive from either Los Angeles or Phoenix. Not only was it competitive with their Palm Springs neighbors, it was also far less expensive than the Las Vegas hotels. Every year the casino and resort saw an increase in revenues. Life for the tribal members was good, except for Sam and his ongoing battle with his anger.

  Late in the 19th century, many Native American tribes had been forced onto reservations on lands no one else wanted, lands where nothing would grow and water was scarce. It was in these desolate areas, after tribal gaming had been approved on a statewide ballot, where the casinos had been built by different tribes. They proved to be enormously popular and literally became "money machines" for previously impoverished tribes. The tribal members had gone from eating food out of government-issued cans to buying expensive Kobe beef. Such was the case with Sam's tribe.

  Sam knew many people felt that the tribes were making too much money off of the casinos. People who were opposed to Indian gaming argued that because members of the tribes were often prone to alcoholism and abusive relationships, they shouldn't be given an opportunity to receive unlimited amounts of money. They felt that the money would only feed their addictions and be squandered. Sam disagreed. He felt it was payback time. For example, Sam's reservation would soon be home to a new school, a dental clinic, a medical clinic, and a pediatric center. A psychologist had started to work with the tribal members on issues such as alcohol addiction and spousal abuse. None of these things would have been possible without the money from the casino.

  Sam lived in two worlds. One foot was strongly rooted in the Anglo's world. He was a medical resident with only a couple of months left until he finished his residency. His specialty was pediatrics. With the new wealth, the tribal elders had voted to pay for the college tuition and graduate school of any child who was a member of the tribe. Sam was the first one in his tribe to go to medical school. His dream in life was to be a doctor and help his tribe, particularly the children.

  Even though the money was plentiful, the old ways died slowly, if at all, for the tribal members. There were so many things that could be done for the children's health. The tribal members didn't trust the Anglo doctors, preferring to get treatment from the traditional tribal medicine man, Strong Medicine. Sam knew that a medicine man's ability to heal was limited, even one as good as Strong Medicine. Sam was of both worlds and he knew once he had completed his medical studies, he could bridge both worlds, helping the members of his tribe by introducing them to modern day medicine coupled with the ancient tribal medicine.

  But no matter how much time Sam spent in the Anglo world, his other foot was still rooted in the ancient tribal ways. He had grown up in the old ways and he understood the power they held. Sam needed the tribe to trust him so they could benefit from the excellent medicine which was available from the Anglo's world. Sam's college loans were staggering, but all of his medical school costs were paid for by the tribe. He never could have afforded to go to medical school without the tribe's generous offer. With the heavy workload of medical school, his trips back to the reservation were infrequent. When he finished with his residency, he planned to return to the reservation and work as a pediatrician at the new pediatric center.

  In the past, through sheer will power, Sam had trained himself to erase the picture he held in his mind of his mother, Susie, dying in the hospital. But this time he simply could not erase that horrible day from his memory. The picture of her last hours in the hospital filled his mind. He remembered the left side of her face, battered and split from the force of Joe's fist with the big ring he wore, causing a jagged cut. His brutal punches had dislocated her left shoulder and damaged her kidneys and lungs. Neither could be saved, even by the surgery the emergency room doctor had immediately ordered. He had called in an eye specialist who tried to save Susie's right eye, which was hanging out of the socket when Sam found her lying in a pool of blood, whimpering and moaning incoherently.

  Sam was afraid to move her, but he didn't have a choice. The paramedics from Blythe were always slow to come to the reservation, if they came at all. Sam knew he couldn't wait for them to take her to the hospital in Blythe. Everything looked broken. A burly neighbor of Susie's helped Sam get her into the backseat of Sam's car. Susie was unconscious and never felt the jolts from the potholes in the reservation road. The main highway was a little better, but it really didn't matter to Susie. She never would know how carefully Sam had driven that day. She died late that night. A deep rage had stayed with Sam after his mother’s death, a rage that was difficult for him to contain.

  She had been beaten by Joe, the man Sam had known for his entire life as his "father." Just recently, his spiritual tribal father, Strong Medicine, had told him that Joe was not his biological father. His real father was Red Cloud, who had gotten Susie pregnant when they were in high school. Red Cloud had died in a tragic alcohol-related car accident before Sam was born. Not long after Red Cloud's death, Susie had married Joe. Native Americans and alcohol were a bad mix and reservation life was hard and even harder when you were a young woman, pregnant, and unmarried. Joe was the best Susie could do under the circumstances, so reluctantly, she agreed to marry him.

  Sam hated Joe. From an early age Sam had learned to leave the house when he could see the telltale signs that Joe's rage was about to surface. When he went back home, Sam could see that once again Joe's temper, fueled with alcohol, had ended with his mother being beaten. The hatred and anger he felt for Joe was always simmering just below the surface.

  Sam had always wondered about his physical appearance and why he didn't resemble Joe at all. Where Joe was squat with brown hair, Sam was tall, lean and muscular with sleek black hair. Joe had a swarthy pockmarked complexion, where Sam's was smooth and reddish-brown. Their noses were different. Sam had a strong nose some referred to as a "Roman" nose, although most of the Native American men had the same shaped nose. Joe's nose was flat, probably as a result of some barroom brawl. No, there were few, if any, resemblances between the two men. Certainly nothing that would make one think they were father and son. Sam thought that after he left the reservation and went away to school, when he didn't have to see Joe on a daily basis, his anger and hatred would lessen. It hadn't.

  It was no secret on the reservation that Sam had anger issues. He had a history of numerous schoolyard fights, causing him to be expelled several times. The pattern was always the same. Susie would go to the school, cry, and tell the principal that there had been some problems at home that were causing the outbursts at school and the principal would relent, once again allowing Sam back in school. The school didn't have many students as bright as Sam.

  As he got older, the fights and anger came out in different ways. Although alcohol was not sold on the reservation, there was a tavern just outside the reservation that had seen Sam in many a barroom brawl. Every time Sam won. When questioned by Susie, he would tell her that the other person had started it, that it was someone else's fault. Sam really believed that he was just a victim; that others were always out to get him. The Tribal Elders wanted Sam to be successful as much as Strong Medicine did, but they were becoming increasingly concerned about his anger issues.

  This time, when Sam returned to the reservation from a break in his residency, it was pretty apparent to everyone on the reservation that he better get his anger in check if he was ever going to be an effective doctor. Once again, Sam had gotten into a barroom brawl. Sam still blamed his relationship with Joe as the reason he was angry all the time. He was glad that Strong Medicine had told him the truth about Joe. Sam was reli
eved to know he wasn't Joe's son and if he wasn't Joe's son, maybe he could begin to control his anger.

  One day, during his brief return to the reservation, Strong Medicine asked Sam to meet with him. "Little Bear, it is time for you to join other tribal members in our sacred sweat lodge. You must get rid of the anger you are carrying that's poisoning your mind. Spending time in the sweat lodge with your tribal brothers will cleanse your mind and spirit. It is part of the 'old ways,' but it will help rid your mind of your anger and hatred."

  Somewhat reluctantly, Sam agreed to meet Strong Medicine and some of the other tribal members at the sweat lodge before he went back to the hospital where he was completing his pediatric residency.

  Sam wished he could change his Native American name, Little Bear. When Joe had married his mother and Sam had been born, Joe had named him. Sam didn't want any connection to the man, but he was stuck with the name. It grated on him every time someone used it.

  As requested, he had met Strong Medicine and a few other tribal members at the sweat lodge. It had been a horrible experience and he had disgraced himself and Strong Medicine. The heat was worse than anything he had ever experienced. When the talking stick was passed to him, he spoke too little and too fast. The others spent a long time talking. Didn't they feel the heat? Sam wanted to scream at them to shut up. He had to escape the heat and the sweat streaming down his body. Maybe this was the purification that Strong Medicine talked about, but he felt like he was going to faint. Maybe he wasn't the man Strong Medicine thought he was but at this point, he didn't care. All he could think about was how he could escape from the overwhelming heat in the sweat lodge. He knew that from time to time people had died at sweat lodges and he didn't want to be the next fatality. Finally, unable to bear the heat any longer, he crawled towards the flap.

  Sam could see the disappointment on Strong Medicine's face as he pulled the flap of the hogan open and stumbled into the cool night air. He was ashamed that he had been the only one to leave the all-consuming heat of the sweat lodge. Perhaps the others were stronger and braver than he was. Once again, Sam felt anger wash over him. Maybe he was more like Joe than he thought. Both of them were angry men. He was beginning to wonder if what some people said was true—that one's environment was stronger than one's biology.

  Hours later, asleep in the manufactured home that had been his mother's, he felt the hand of Strong Medicine on his shoulder. "My son, it is time to do your vision quest. The tribal fathers have expressed their great disappointment in you. You failed the sweat lodge. The only way to gain their respect is by completing a successful vision quest.

  "Most vision quests are done during adolescence, but you were busy with school and then college. The time has come for you to communicate with ‘your’ spirits. You will fast and pray for two days and one night, seeking relief from the anger you carry. You will also develop clarity for your future. I will help you. My time on this earth is nearing an end and there is much I need to teach you before you will be ready to replace me."

  This was the first time that Strong Medicine had expressed a desire to have Sam replace him as the tribe's medicine man. It saddened him to think that the one person he really cared about felt his time here on earth was nearing an end.

  Strong Medicine had been more of a father to him than Joe or anyone else in the tribe, even his mother's brothers. He truly seemed to care for the young man who had been so despondent and angry since his mother's death. He had always seen something in Sam that no one else had. It was he who had urged Sam to attend college and later to go to medical school and become a doctor. Sam owed everything to Strong Medicine and he made a vow that, no matter what, he would have a successful vision quest. He would not fail Strong Medicine again.

  Strong Medicine had told him to be ready to leave on his vision quest two hours before dawn. Sam would take no food or water with him and would dress only in a loincloth. He was to hike to the top of a nearby sacred mountain, which, for obvious reasons, was called "Rising Sun Mountain".

  Giving him last minute instructions, Strong Medicine began, "My son, your vision quest will not be like that of others who embark on a vision quest. Yours will be about proving to the elders that you can be trusted to be a member of the Tribal Council. The tribe needs smart people to help them with the many changes that have occurred since the casino came to our land. If you want to be a doctor and help the tribe, you need to have the respect of the tribe. You can have all the degrees in the world, but without tribal respect, nothing you say or do will matter."

  “I will not fail again and disgrace you. I promise you I will complete the vision quest and gain the respect of the Tribal Council. Thank you for believing in me.”

  Sam started up the trail leading to Rising Sun Mountain before dawn, intent on reaching the summit so he could see the sunrise from the top. He knew the next two days would test him as nothing else ever had. The difficulties he had experienced in being a resident in his last year faded by comparison. When he arrived at the top of the mountain he sat down and waited for dawn to break. The sky began to change from dark blue to turquoise to pink to a fiery red as the sun slowly came into view. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Just then an eagle flew across the sky, an omen. No matter what happened in the next two days, he knew he would never forget the sunrise on the first day of his vision quest.

  He found a spot where he could sit comfortably and spent the rest of the day chanting, as Strong Medicine had instructed him to do. The sun beat down on him and it became intolerably hot. He could feel the sweat droplets on his brow dripping into his eyes. His whole body began to glisten with sweat. Sam became painfully aware of the hard earth under his buttocks. He continued to chant until the sun left the sky.

  The temperature dropped and soon it became somewhat bearable. Then he began to hear the night noises: scratchings, the high whistles of animals calling to one another, slithers. This was a long way from the comfortable room in the teaching hospital where he was finishing up his residency. He wondered what his medical mentors would think if they could see him now. Even though the hours he had to put in as a resident were horrific, at least he wasn't worried about snakes and all the other unidentifiable sounds he was sure belonged to things which meant to harm him. Staying awake would not be a problem, but dealing with the unseen terrors of the night would be.

  He was hungry and very, very thirsty. Strong Medicine told him he must be vigilant all night and he had given him advice on ways to do this. For Sam, alertness was not the problem. He was terrified of going to sleep and waking up eye to eye with one of those unidentifiable sounds.

  As the sun rose, he began his second day. The sun started to shimmer and the horizon seemed to waver. Thoughts flooded his brain in the form of bad daytime nightmares. He wanted to run away, but he wasn't sure he could even stand, much less walk or run. The sun steadily beat down on him and his lips became dry and cracked. His skin felt like it was being flayed. Susie began speaking to him, urging him to forgive Joe, that Sam really hadn't known him; that Joe had been good to her in ways that Sam had never seen.

  Strong Medicine came to him in a vision, telling him that soon it would be over, that he must stay and face his demons. His biological father, Red Cloud, likewise appeared, begging Sam's forgiveness for never having had the chance to be a father to him. Other tribal members came and went in his spinning mind. Once again, he felt the all-consuming rage. He wanted to kill Joe for what he had done to Susie. But didn't that make him just like Joe? Joe was not a full blood member of the tribe. His bloodline was only one-sixteenth tribal, not enough to qualify him as a member. However, he preferred tribal life over that of an illegal immigrant, a mestizo. While he and Susie were married, he barely worked, eking out a hand to mouth existence until the casino opened. The night Susie died, the tribe voted Joe off the reservation. No one had heard from him since and you couldn't prosecute someone if you couldn't find them. In the searing heat, Sam swore to kill Joe if he ever ret
urned to the reservation.

  The Old Ones say you can feel your spirit during a vision quest. They say that no water, no sleep, and no food strips one of the pleasures of the body. Sam felt the hatred coursing through him. Finally, after many hours, he was spent and exhausted. The rage that had threatened to take over his very life seemed to have finally passed out of his mind and body. Where there had been a tidal wave of hatred and anger, now there was a calm pool and peace of mind.

  Strong Medicine told him that the quest would end at sundown on the second day. Dusk came and still he couldn't bring himself to stand up. Finally, he arose. He was completely disoriented. Where was the reservation? There were no landmarks in the dark to guide him. He stumbled down the mountain, unsure of what direction he was going. He walked for many miles in what seemed like a long, long journey.

  He could see some lights in the distance. Relieved, he thought they must be lights from the reservation, but as he got closer to the lights, he realized that he must be lost. This was not the way to the reservation. When his eyesight cleared and the movements of his body brought him back to the present, he saw a neon sign that said "Blue Coyote Motel."

  Sam became aware that the lights he had seen were coming from the small motel and that there were several cars in the motel parking lot. He desperately needed food, water, and sleep. He had nothing with him. He had no identification or money, but he had memorized his credit card number.

  Sam staggered to the front of the motel, opened the door to the office and entered. He was greeted by an incredibly beautiful young woman with jet black hair which reflected the light above the desk. She took in the sight of the nearly naked, filthy Indian standing in front of her with a look of amazement. Forcing herself to remain calm as he seemed to be quite harmless, she said, "Welcome to the Blue Coyote Motel. If you're looking for a room, you're in luck. We have one room left and you're welcome to it.”