Johnny Hunter

by Richard L. DuMont

  The team soon joined the other mourners, including the Badgers, and they walked slowly to their trucks and cars. Johnny stood alone with his mother next to the grave. The sorrow, the tears, rose within him, but he fought them and pushed the tears back. He had cried hard with Sarah and with Father McGlothlin the night of the accident. He didn’t want to cry in front of his mother again.

  Mrs. Hunter knelt down in the snow and prayed silently. When she was finished, she crossed herself, stood, and brushed the snow off her knees. She and Johnny put their hands on the casket for a moment before she took his hand and walked back to the funeral hearse.

  “You okay?” he asked her softly.

  “Fine,” she said. “You?”

  “Sort of numb but okay.”

  “It was a nice funeral,” she said. “I’m sure it would have pleased your father. It was a nice turnout of his friends.”

  “I guess so,” he answered. He was quiet for a minute. “Mom, I thought I saw Grandma up in those hills watching.”

  “Good,” she said. “I don’t have your talents for seeing the spirits, but it’s nice to know that she will help see that he gets to the next world on the Hanging Road.”

  They reached the funeral hearse and the undertaker opened the rear door for them. Minatare and Johnny climbed into the back seat. “It’s too bad Father McGlothlin couldn’t come,” he said.

  “Yes, he’s so nice. But he had to stay at the church because Father Shannon wanted to say the gravesite prayers. In spite of what you think, Father Shannon was always good to your dad.”

  Johnny shook his head in agreement and looked out the window. “Yeah, I have to agree. Father Shannon has been pretty good to me, too.” He reached over and took his mother’s hand as they rode silently away from the cemetery.

  A WEEK HAD PASSED since his dad’s funeral, and Johnny returned to school. His schoolmates, the teachers (who were mostly nuns), and Father McGlothlin all expressed their sorrow at his father’s death. Several students that he didn’t know well told him stories of how alcohol had led to the death of their father or uncle or someone they knew and loved.

  In the hallway, Richard Amos gave him a long hug. “Sorry, Johnny. I know how hard it is to lose your dad.”

  “Thanks, Richard. Coming from you, I really appreciate it. And I appreciate your bringing me class assignments so I didn’t fall too far behind.”

  Richard just smiled and punched him gently on the shoulder.

  The rest of the school day passed quickly, and when the final bell rang, he went to the locker room and put on his practice uniform with the other boys. He finished tying his shoelaces when he looked up to see his coach.

  “Hello, Johnny,” Coach Goodheart said. He was standing with the help of crutches. “How are you feeling? It’s been a couple of rough weeks for you.”

  Johnny stood up and fell easily into a hug. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he sobbed a few times. He wiped his eyes with his arm. “I’m okay, Coach. It just seems so unreal that my dad is dead.”

  “It will seem unreal for a long time. Just try to think that your father’s in a better place now.”

  Johnny sat down on the bench and wiped his eyes with a towel. “Tell me Coach, did you ever drink whiskey or beer?”

  Coach Goodheart grunted as he sat down next to him. He slid the crutches out of the way and smiled at Johnny. “I did. I was a few years older than you when a couple of my friends got hold of a fifth of bourbon. Not sure what brand it was anymore.”

  “What happened?’

  “Oh, the three of us drank the whole bottle in the woods behind St. Andrew. We were drunk and laughing when we finished the whiskey. Then, things started to spin around and I fell down on the ground. My friends soon joined me there and we tried to stop the world from spinning around like crazy. It wasn’t long before I started puking. So did my friends, and there was vomit everywhere—on the ground, on our clothes, and in our hair. We tried to clean the stink off in a creek, but I’m sure our moms knew what had happened. None of us has drunk any whiskey since that day. It was a tough way to learn a lesson but we did.”

  “I don’t think I ever want to try it,” Johnny said softly. “It kills too many of our tribe and wrecks the lives of those who don’t drink. Indians just can’t handle it.”

  “You are so right, Johnny. Just remember how many Cheyenne alcohol has killed or ruined every time you are tempted to try it. And believe me: you will be tempted many times in your life.”

  They were both quiet for a moment until the coach spoke. “I take it by the fact you’re wearing a practice uniform that you feel well enough to resume basketball.”

  “I sure do, Coach. I need to start playing again. I’m sitting around too much and doing too much thinking.”

  “Okay. We’ll see how you do physically. You may have to take a few breaks at practice until you get your wind back. But, I think it will be a good diversion for you. Now go up to the gym and get a bunny line going. I’ll be hobbling along behind you.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” Johnny tucked in his jersey and ran out of the locker room and up the stairs. He could hear the basketballs pounding the floor as he opened the door and ran into the gym.

  His teammates stopped shooting. “Yeah, Johnny’s back!” Bobbie Whitehorse shouted. The whole team ran over to him, patting him on the back and head, laughing.

  “Okay! Okay!” Johnny said, as he ran away from them. “I’m glad you missed me.

  “Now, let’s get a bunny line going before coach gets here.”

  The week flew by, as Johnny had to catch up in basketball and his school work. Richard had brought him homework and reading assignments from school so he had been able to do something while he was at home. But he was behind and pushed himself to catch up with his classmates. The nuns spent extra time with him, and he was sure he would be up to date quickly.

  He was in a deep sleep Saturday morning when he suddenly felt Minatare shaking his arm. “Johnny! Johnny, wake up. You have a busy day ahead of you.” She shook him again. “C’mon, Johnny. Mr. Pretty Feather will be here soon to pick you up and you need to be dressed and ready.”

  At the mention of James Pretty Feather, Johnny quickly sat up. “What? What are you saying, Mom?”

  “Mary Pretty Feather called me this morning to tell me that her husband has some work that you could do if you want to make some money. It’s for today, cause you don’t have school. Heavens knows we could use a little money now that your father’s gone.”

  Johnny sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m still a little confused. What kind of work?”

  Minatare handed him a pair of jeans. “She didn’t say. Probably sweeping or moving boxes or something. I’m sure there is plenty you could do to help clean up the construction yard. Of course I said yes.”

  He pulled on his jeans, a shirt, and his cowboy boots. After visiting the bathroom, he sat down at the table to hot oatmeal and milk. “Where’s Gray Man?” he asked.

  Minatare shrugged her shoulders. “He didn’t come home again last night. I figure he’s with Logan Badger.” She sat down at the table with a cup of tea. “When I talked to Mary Pretty Feather today, it wasn’t the first time this week. I called her earlier to ask if she had any work I could do. She’s checking into it but nothing so far. But, you can start today. I suspect Sarah had something to do with it.” She smiled a knowing smile at Johnny.

  Johnny’s face flushed a little. “Okay, it sounds good. I need to make some money now that I’m the man of the house.”

  Minatare patted his cheek. “You will always be my little man. Now hurry and finish your breakfast and brush your teeth.”

  While brushing his teeth he heard a car come up the driveway and stop. The car door opened and he heard his mom talking to James Pretty Feather. Johnny wiped his mouth, brushed his black hair and practically ran outside.

  “Good morning, Johnny. You ready to do some work?”

  “I sure am.” He kissed Minatare on the cheek. “Bye,
Mom,” he said as he climbed into the black Buick. “This is really a nice car, Mr. Pretty Feather.”

  “Yeah, it makes the many miles I drive pretty comfortable. I like General Motors cars. Mary drives a new Oldsmobile. They really have a smooth ride.”

  Johnny looked out the window, enjoying the ride and the snow-covered hills. He felt comfortable, even though it was quiet in the car.

  “How are you and your mom doing?” Pretty Feather asked after a few minutes as they drove toward Miles City.

  “Pretty good, I guess. It’s really hard to know how to feel. I loved my dad but he had a lot of problems. I wish he had lived a happier life.”

  “Well, the best thing you can do to honor him is to try to live a good, meaningful life. Taking care of your mom is your job for now.”

  “I will.”

  After a minute, James spoke. “I saw you father’s truck sitting by the horse barn. Are you going to have it fixed?”

  “For sure. I don’t think you could live on the reservation without a car or truck. Of course, we don’t have any money to fix it right now, but I know Coach Goodheart has been over and started to work on it.”

  “You’ll meet Mike Willow today. He can fix about anything mechanical, and I think he will be glad to help. He’s friends with the coach, too.”

  “That would be great.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence and soon pulled into the Miles City Construction Company yard. There was a small office and a large warehouse where several men were loading construction lumber into trucks of different sizes. The men wore jeans and jackets, heavy work boots, and yellow hard hats.

  After parking in front of the office, James Pretty Feather and Johnny got out of the car.

  “Come on, Johnny. We’ll need to fill out some paperwork and then get you a decent pair of work boots and a hard hat. After that, I’ll turn you over to Mike Willow, and he’ll show you what to do. He’s a Crow but most of the workers are Northern Cheyenne. We have a few white workers but I try to make sure that Indians have the first opportunity when there’s a job opening. Most of my employees have been here a long time.”

  They walked into the office. Mary Pretty Feather sat at a desk, typing what looked like an invoice. She wore a tan pencil skirt and a white blouse. “Good morning, Johnny. How nice to see you. Have a seat here next to me.”

  James Pretty Feather kissed his wife on the cheek and went into a small office. Johnny sat down and filled in the paperwork he needed to work for Miles City Construction. When he finished, he handed the forms to Mary.

  She looked them over. “Everything looks good. You have a nice handwriting. Here, you need to take this one form home for your mom to sign and you can just bring it in next week or give it to Sarah at school. That will make you legal.” She smiled at Johnny.

  “Now go find Mike Willow in the yard. He’s a big man with a long braided ponytail who will be telling the workers what to do. If you can’t find him, just ask someone. He’ll find a pair of boots for you and a hard hat.”

  Johnny left the office and walked across the yard, which was a combination of snow and mud from the heavy equipment rolling over it. It only took a minute to find Mike Willow, who was standing in the back of a Ford pickup truck guiding a load of lumber into the bed. The truck sank slightly under the weight of the wood but bounced back and settled. Mike hopped off the truck.

  “Mr. Willow!” Johnny shouted over the engine noise. He waved his hands and ran to Willow, who was a very big man, standing 6 foot 4 and carrying around 240 pounds.

  “You must be Johnny Hunter,” he said, shaking Johnny’s hand. “I heard your name over the reservation grapevine when you saved Adam Goodheart and your friend in the snowstorm. Sounded like you were pretty brave. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Adam Goodheart is a good man and a good friend of mine. We go way back.”

  “Mr. Pretty Feather told me you were friends.”

  “We are and he asked me to help him try to fix your dad’s truck. So, I’ll probably be seeing you at your house, too.”

  Johnny wondered if Mike Willow was one of the drinking friends Goodheart had told him about. “Thanks. What should I call you?”

  “Most everybody but my wife calls me Big Mike. That’ll do for you. Come with me and we’ll find you some boots that might fit you. Then we’ll get you started unloading one of the trucks this morning.”

  Johnny spent the morning climbing up on skids of lumber and helping the forklift driver to get under the pallets and back out of the big trailer. One of the workers let him use a pallet jack to pull out a skid, but it was too heavy for him and he needed help. Then he would sweep out the empty truck and the dock. Despite the cold, he was sweating under his clothes and yellow hard hat.

  Big Mike came up to him as he rested on his broom. “How’s it going, Johnny?” he asked. “I’ve heard good things about you. I’m told you are a hard worker.”

  “I’m trying and I’ve done most everything asked of me, but the pallet jack was too heavy for me to pull it. Had to get help with it.”

  “Yeah, you’re tall but you’ll need to put on a few more pounds of muscle before you can do that.” He patted Johnny on the shoulder. “It’s lunch time. Go to the office. Mrs. Pretty Feather has a sandwich and a drink for you. Next week, try to remember to bring lunch with you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Johnny walked to the office rubbing the muscle in his shoulder and opened the door. Sarah sat next to her mom and smiled at him. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “I thought I might join you for lunch. Is it okay?”

  A huge grin filled his face. “Yeah, it’s okay. It’s way okay.”

  They sat in a couple of folding chairs and ate lunch, which consisted of a ham and cheese sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of Coke. Johnny never got soft drinks at home, so it was a real treat for him. He had a hard time believing he was having lunch with Sarah Pretty Feather. They talked about school and the upcoming game with the boys from the Crow Reservation and about finding the body of Moody Johnson. It seemed like they had only talked for a few minutes when Mary looked up from her typewriter.

  “Time to get back to work Johnny,” she said. “You only get a half an hour.”

  He stood up. “Thank you for lunch. It really tasted good. See you later, Sarah.” He wanted to kiss her but didn’t even think about trying.

  “Johnny, if you like, we could take you to our house after work. Sarah wants to show you her horses and then we’ll feed you a nice big supper. I’ll make enough for you to take some home to your mom.”

  Johnny couldn’t help grinning. “That sounds great. Will you let my mom know so she doesn’t worry?”

  “I already called her, so she knows. I asked her to come too but she said no.”

  “She’s pretty much staying at home right now. I guess it’s comfortable for her. Plus, our truck is still not drivable.” Johnny reached the office door. “Thanks again.” He smiled at Sarah who gave him a smile and a little wave. He closed the door behind him and went looking for Big Mike.

  By four o’clock, Johnny could feel his muscles starting to ache and he felt tired. But, he had worked hard all day and felt proud that he had done almost everything Big Mike asked him to do.

  “All right everybody,” Mike shouted. “That’s it for today. Enjoy your day off tomorrow, and we’ll see you at seven on Monday.” The crew of six put their tools away and lined up to ring out on the time clock.

  “Is this all the workers?” Johnny asked Big Mike.

  “Oh, no. We have two crews of five men out working on construction projects, mostly apartment buildings and houses. They sign time cards but sometimes we don’t see them for weeks. It’s easier for them to just drive from their homes to the work sites.

  “Is Mr. Pretty Feather taking you home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, but if you ever need a ride, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Big Mike.”

  “Oh, by the way, here’s your pa
y for today. You earned it.” He took the money out of his pocket and counted six singles as he gave them to Johnny.”

  “Thanks again, Big Mike. It’s the most money I’ve ever had in my hands.”

  The big man smiled and tousled Johnny’s hair. “See you here next Saturday, and I’ll see you at the big basketball game this week.”

  Johnny smiled. “I hope you’re not too upset when St. Andrew wins the game. We always play good against the Crow team.”

  “We’ll see,” Mike said. He walked over to an old Jeep, climbed in and turned the key. The engine cranked slowly and started, blowing a cloud of blue smoke out of the exhaust. He waved to Johnny as he drove through the gate.

  Because the Pretty Feathers had two cars at work, Johnny again rode with Mr. Pretty Feathers. Mary and Sarah had left earlier to get supper started. He felt tired but satisfied that he had done a good day’s work.

  “Big Mike said you did just fine today, Johnny. If you want to, you can work every Saturday until St. Andrew goes on summer break. I can probably get you twenty hours a week then. We’d have to work out your transportation but I think it’ll work.”

  Johnny couldn’t help smiling. “Big Mike said he could pick me up sometimes, and I’m sure my mom would drive me, too.”

  “Just make sure you keep your grades up and that working doesn’t make you fall behind at school. You’ll need good grades if you want to play college basketball when you finish high school.”

  “I hope so, sir. I’m trying my best. My biggest goal in life is to get a good job so I can help my mom out. She’s had to work so hard all her life. Did you go to college at Montana State?” he asked.

  James Pretty Feather took a minute to answer. “No. No, I didn’t, Johnny, and it’s one of the regrets of my life. We had no money for going to college and needed money for food and clothes and everything else. My dad was sick and my mom could only work part-time. I had two little sisters to care for, so when I graduated from high school, I went to work for Miles City Construction. Fortunately, I had a great boss who showed me how to keep the books and run the company. When he retired he sold the business to me for a more than fair price. I had been there eight years so I was ready to take over.”