Shaking his head, Johnny aimed the .22 rifle where the figure indicated to shoot. He took a deep breath, slowly squeezed the trigger, and fired a shot. The noise startled the herd, and they ran quickly into the trees and disappeared. Johnny stood up and aimed again at his target. She was moving slowly and wobbled while trying to catch up with the herd. His second shot dropped her where she stood.
Looking over at Gray Man, the old man waved his arms and shouted in the old people’s language. Johnny laughed and ran to the mule deer he shot. She was dead; two blood stains formed along the side of her chest. He knelt down and pet the brown fur on her neck. “Sorry, Sister Deer. We need your meat to help feed us this winter.”
Gray Man arrived, huffing and puffing from running through the snow. He grinned widely. “Good shooting, Hunter. Hahu! Just like a Cheyenne warrior in the old days. We’ll have good meat to eat for months. How did you pick this doe to shoot?” He patted Johnny on the back.
“I’m not sure, Grandpa. I thought I saw a spirit or a ghost or something pointing at this one. Maybe it was just the wind and snow.”
“It was not just a mirage you saw. It was the spirit of your grandmother helping you. I could see her, too, and she picked out this mule deer because she is not pregnant. You have great power, Hunter, and grandmother is going to help you when you need it.”
The wind swirled the snow around them as they spoke.
“But, I don’t remember grandmother. I was very little when she died.”
“That’s true, but she held you when you were small and sang the old people’s songs. They made you peaceful and you would soon fall asleep.” Gray Man stood up, his old bones making creaking noises.
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “I don’t know what I saw.”
Gray Man held Johnny by the shoulders. “But I know what I saw, and you will come to believe eventually. For now, it will be our secret. Your father would not want to hear what really happened out here.
“Now, go and get the horses while I start to field dress this fine deer.”
Johnny returned with the horses, and the two of them struggled to lift the gutted mule deer onto the back of Gray Man’s horse. They grunted as they pushed the mule deer’s body, and it finally slid over the back of the horse, settling behind the saddle. Gray Man pulled a rope out of the saddle bag and tied its legs together. They stood back and grinned at each other. “It feels good, Grandpa.”
“It does,” Gray Man answered. “But your mother might not be so happy.” He reached over and lifted Johnny’s arm. His jacket was covered with mule deer blood, and there was blood on his face and hair.
Johnny wiped his hand across his face. “Do I look like a warrior in red paint?” He joined Gray Man in a laugh.
“We’ll stop at the Badgers on the way home. Estelle should be able to get most of that off you. And me, too.” His left arm had a lot of blood on his jacket. “I was going to stop anyway and give them a hind leg from this mule deer. The gift of food will make all of us happy.”
The Badgers were thrilled to see them as they trotted up the gravel driveway next to the porch. “Ho ho!” Logan shouted and ran down the steps to their side. He patted the mule deer several times. “Come in, come in, and tell us all about the hunt.”
Gray Man slid of his horse and patted Logan on the back. “We will,” he said. “But first we must take the mule deer into your shed. We want to give you and Estelle a hind leg. It should help make the winter go faster if your belly is full.” The two old men slid the mule deer off Gray Man’s horse, and struggling, they carried it into the shed.
Johnny, with a huge smile on his face, sat on Thunder. He loved both those old men.
Estelle Badger walked to the end of the porch. “Johnny, get off that horse and come in so I can clean you up. Your mother will have a fit when she sees all that blood.” She was a little woman, but her voice carried a great deal of authority.
He slid off the horse and stepped up on the porch. She took him by the arm with her bony hands and led him through the rough wooden door and into the warmth of the cabin. It was small, with only a living room, a kitchen, and a small bedroom in the back. The warm heat from the iron stove felt wonderful as he took off his sheepskin jacket and handed it to Mrs. Logan.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll clean this up, but first you go scrub your face and hands in the sink. I’ll make us some mint tea.”
The water from the faucet, which was well water, felt icy cold, but he scrubbed his face and hands with the harsh bar soap until the water was no longer red with blood. He reached for a towel, which felt rough as he dried his face and hands.
Mrs. Badger set a large cup of tea on the table for him. She poured another cup for herself and took the jacket to the sink. She ran the water over the one jacket arm that was full of blood. The water turned red until it gradually became pink. Mrs. Badger poured hot water from the kettle on a cloth with soap and vigorously rubbed the cloth until it was clean. She held it up, looked at the arm, and scrubbed some more spots until she was satisfied. Hanging the coat on a chair, near the stove to dry, she finally joined Johnny at the table with her tea.
“Thanks,” he said.
She smiled at him and took his hand. “You are a good boy, Johnny Hunter. You always wave and smile at me whenever we meet. It is times like this that I miss having children.” They sat quietly, silently sipping their tea.
“So, who shot the mule deer?”
Grinning, Johnny answered, “I did.”
“Oh your mother and father will be so proud.”
The front door opened and Gray Man and Logan walked in, along with the orange cat.
“Damn cat,” Estelle said with a moan. She stood up and poured coffee for them and they sat around the table, talking and laughing.
After half an hour, Gray Man stood up. “Come on, Johnny Hunter, we need to get this deer home and butcher it. We can dry some of it, but I think we can freeze some too. We’ll put it in a hay box and pack it with snow and that should work just fine.”
They stood up, hugged the Badgers, and were soon on the way home.
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY night was the homecoming dance for St. Andrew, and Johnny looked forward to it with growing excitement and a little dread. Sarah Pretty Feather would be there, and he so wanted to dance with her. But the thought of it scared him. Would she accept his invitation to dance with him? Johnny felt sure she liked him, but he knew next to nothing about how to dance. What if he stepped on her feet or dropped her? As confident as he was with a basketball in his hand, he felt none of that about dancing with a girl, especially Sarah. He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a lunch of chicken noodle soup and a bologna sandwich on white bread.
“What’s the matter, Johnny?” his mother asked as she joined him at the table. When sat down, she reached over the table and took his hand in hers. “You look worried.”
“Oh, nothing. I’m okay,” he said softly.
“Johnny?” Minatare said. “C’mon, something is bothering you. What’s going on?” She looked into his black eyes.
He kept looking down at the table. “Well, the dance is tonight and I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“There’s a girl I like, and I think she likes me, too. But I don’t know how to dance, and I’m afraid I’ll step on her foot or trip her or something. I’d probably embarrass both of us.”
His mother squeezed his hands and smiled broadly at her son. “Oh, Johnny you’ll be fine. Dancin’ is easy. You just hold the girl in your arms and she will follow your lead.”
The front door opened and his father came in with a gust of cold air. He was bundled up tightly. Removing his winter jacket, he hung it on a hook on the back of the door.
“Hello, Dad,” Johnny said, leaving his hand in his mother’s.
He pulled out a chair and sat down with a grunt at the table. “What’s going on?” he said. “You two look like you are plottin’ something.”
Minatare r
eached over and took Billy’s hand. “Johnny’s worried about the dance tonight. He doesn’t know how to dance. I was about to tell him that you were a good dancer back when we were dating.”
“I still can dance. It’s just that we never go out anymore where we could dance. C’mon, Minatare, let’s show this boy how to dance.” A rare smile cracked his face.
“Don’t be silly. Besides, what would we dance to?”
Billy stood up and walked over to their ancient radio. He turned it on, turning the dial until he heard a song that he liked. Roberta Flack’s “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” filled the small cabin. He walked to Minatare and took her hand. “C’mon, Mama, dance with me.”
His mother giggled like a school girl, and the couple moved away from the table.
Johnny sat at the table, shaking his head in disbelief. In spite of his big belly, Billy moved gracefully to the music, leading Minatare in a slow romantic dance, both of them smiling as they held each other in their arms. When they did a small dip as the song ended, Johnny clapped his hands and stood up to hug both of them. He was amazed that his parents, especially his dad, could dance and dance well. He had never seen that side of his father before.
Billy sat down at the table while Minatare poured him a cup of coffee and sat down with them. “It’s not that hard, Johnny. If you just move your feet slowly like I did, your partner should be able to follow. Try it with your mom.”
“I don’t know. I never danced with a girl before.”
Minatare grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair. “Dance with me. It will be good practice for tonight.” She sang along with Bill Wither’s “Lean on Me” and it sounded good, even with the radio’s static. She took his hand in hers and put the other on his shoulder.
Johnny’s face was red and his hands a little shaky. He put his arm around his mom and took a few awkward steps, moving slightly to the left and then back a step. Minatare easily followed his lead. He couldn’t help grinning as the music guided him in a slow dance and his mother put her head on his shoulder. He was four inches taller than her. She smelled good, like the strong hand soap she used all day. Johnny kept repeating the same three steps.
The song ended and Billy clapped loudly. “You’re a natural,” he said. “Just like your old man.” Billy took a big swallow of his coffee.
“You did good, Johnny,” Minatare said. “Your lady friend will be impressed. Now, sit down and eat your sandwich while I heat up your soup.”
His father drove him to the dance and patted him on the back when they pulled into the parking lot. “Have fun, Johnny. You’re a good looking boy, and the girls will be crazy for you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Johnny said as he slid off the truck seat and out the door. He watched as his father spun his tires driving back onto the road. Johnny brushed the dust off his boots. Dressed in his best jeans, a plaid shirt, and a bolo tie, he felt confident about how he looked. Minatare had combed his black hair back off his eyes and it glistened in the parking lot lights. He took a deep breath and headed toward the school door. He walked through the door, down the hallway, and into the gym, which was decorated with blue and gold streamers. Chairs had been set all around the gym floor, and there were a few tables with checkered cloths over them. The lights had been dimmed, so it felt less like a gym.
“Hey Johnny! We’re over here,” Richard shouted. The team pretty much hung together whenever they were out and they had gathered in the corner where three tribal drummers pounded away on their drums and sang ancient Cheyenne chants. Only Richard Amos danced like he knew how. The others just sort of hopped around from one foot to the other.
Johnny walked across the floor where the seventh and eighth grade boys and girls were gathering in small groups, talking and laughing. He waved at Sarah Pretty Feather, and she gave him a smile that made him feel like he could float across the gym.
The drummers continued pounding and chanting, and the boys danced around like they had seen their elders do at the summer powwow. They were mostly being boys and blowing off energy. Johnny laughed and joined in, doing slow circles and bumping into his friends. After about fifteen minutes, the drummers stopped and the crowd applauded their efforts.
Mrs. Morgan, one of the school bus drivers, wore a cowboy hat decorated with eagle feathers; she sat on the stage behind a table covered with 45 records, some old and some new, and a small record player. On either side of the stage were speakers. She tapped on the microphone. “Let’s give another round of applause for the tribal drummers!” she shouted, making the microphone whistle.
Once more the young Cheyenne students clapped and cheered loudly. Johnny and Richard shouted war whoops as the drummers left the gymnasium, carrying their drums with them. The boys and girls separated to different sides of the gym and talked nervously among themselves.
“All right, kids. Let’s get some dancin’ started,” Mrs. Morgan said, speaking loudly into the microphone. “Here’s an oldie but goodie by Buddy Holly.” She sat the needle down on the record and, following a few seconds of scratchy noises, “That’ll Be The Day” blasted out of the speakers.
On one side of the gym, the girls started dancing with each other as partners, waving their arms and singing along with the songs they knew. One of the girls waved at Thomas Brown Bear to come over. He smiled at his friends. “See you later, boys.”
Thomas walked over to the girls, grabbed one, and started to dance. He knew how to jitterbug; he spun his partner around, pulled her close, and then, with hands held high, turned her under his arm. He was smiling and laughing, and the other girls kept cutting in to dance with him.
Johnny and Richard Amos shook their heads in disbelief. “Where did he learn to dance like that?” Johnny asked.
“His mother taught him. She lived in Chicago for a few years and learned a lot of dances. Man, he can really move.”
“Maggie May” blared over the small speakers. Bobbie Whitehorse shouted over the music. “Well you guys are fun, but not very pretty. See you later.” He ran across the gym floor and grabbed Sarah Pretty Feather for a partner. Not near the dancer Thomas was, he still danced with her, holding her hand and then waving his arms in the air. Sarah laughed at him but kept dancing.
Johnny watched and laughed but knew he didn’t like Sarah dancing with another boy. But still, he would never try a fast dance.
Mrs. Morgan tapped on the microphone “Okay boys and girls, here’s a nice slow song, and I’m making it a ladies’ choice. Gotta get these shy boys dancing.” She put “Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down” on the record player and the girls stood still for a few seconds and then scurried across the floor.
Sarah Pretty Feather walked past Bobbie and took Johnny by the hand. “Dance with me, Johnny.” She smiled at him and pulled him off his chair.
“Okay,” he said, “but I’m not much of a dancer.”
Sarah led him onto the dance floor and slipped into his arms. Instead of holding one hand, she wrapped both arms around his neck.
Johnny had no choice but to put both his arms around her slender waist. She put her head on his chest, and he could smell lilac on her hair. He moved slowly at first, but Sarah followed his lead effortlessly. “You look beautiful,” he said.
Sarah wore a purple dress that had small ruffles on the sleeves and on the hem. It fit her perfectly. Her hair hung down her back in a single braid. A large turquoise earring hung from each ear.
“Thanks, Johnny,” she whispered in his ear.
Her warm breath on his ear felt like a soft kiss. He pulled her closer, and he could feel her warmth.
After a minute, Sarah pulled her head off his chest. “Johnny, do you like me?”
Johnny felt the blood rush to his face. “Of course, I do. You are the smartest, prettiest girl at St. Andrew.”
“Then why don’t you ever talk to me? When I see you, you just mumble a few words and practically run away as soon as you can. The other day at church you almost fell over as you ran off to get
in your father’s truck.”
Johnny continued dancing before answering Sarah. “Well, it’s just that you are the prettiest girl I know, and when I’m close to you I get all tongue tied. I’ve never really been around girls much.” He was sure his face was burning red in embarrassment. “I do like you, but you know, you are so beautiful and your family is wealthy and I get intimidated. Usually, my throat tightens up and I have to cough even to speak.”
Sarah laid her head on his chest. “You don’t need to be nervous or afraid to talk to me. I’m just like you except I’m a girl. I get nervous too, but if I have to wait for you to act, I’d be an old lady before we get together.” She lifted her head, smiled at him, and moved her lips very close to his.
Johnny smiled back, and without thinking, bent down and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back, oh so lightly, and he felt a warm glow come over him. They finished the dance, and he started to walk back to the boys’ side of the gym.
Again, she grabbed his hand. “Come on, Johnny, and sit with me. If you are going to be my boyfriend, you have to stay with me. Your friends aren’t going anywhere.”
He followed her to a table and sat next to her. This time, he took Sarah’s hand. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?” he asked.
“I hope so. Unless you don’t want to.”
Johnny squeezed her hand. “Of course I do.” And she gave him another killer smile. They sat at the table, holding hands and listening to the music. Johnny couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy.
Neil Diamond’s “Song Sung Blue” started playing when Sarah grabbed his hand again and pulled him onto the dance floor. She tried to get him to fast dance, but he pulled her to him and they danced another slow dance. “I don’t know how to dance except for this slow dance.”
Johnny Hunter Page 7