Obsidian Tears by Doug Lamoreux & Daniel D Lamoreux

Author:Doug Lamoreux & Daniel D Lamoreux [Lamoreux, Doug & Lamoreux, Daniel D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2016-04-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

The Ghost Dancers rose ignoring the crowd and, led by the princess, walked off the field and disappeared into their lodges. “The Ghost Dancers,” William Shakespeare said, as he reclaimed his microphone. Then, brightening, he told the crowd, “Your turn now. The Pow Wow is not about just watching. You got to get involved. Come out, right now, onto the field and join us in a dance. Don't be shy!” The drums took up. The steady beat turned the Council chairman's invitation into a challenge. “You can't do it wrong. Native American dancing is about what's happening within you. Just watch the feet of the nearest Indian dancer to get started and join!”

Moving to the beat, in the Traditional steps, the reservation dancers flooded back onto the field motioning for the tourists around the circle to join them. “We need more dancers,” Shakespeare called. “Come on out everybody. Hey, enjoy! Enjoy!”

The crowd did as asked. Clumsily, hesitantly at first, then more enthusiastically, the Levis and tennis shoes, cameras and cowboy hats, newly purchased head dresses and, despite the falling temperature as night claimed the desert, more than a few pairs of sandals and shorts, moved in among the reservation dancers encouraged by the drums.

The Ghost Dancers, with no interest in gyrating with the tourists, were long gone. Seeing this, and suddenly concerned they'd missed their opportunity and wasted the last hour, Two Ravens, with a shout of “Glenn!” took off running. Together, the outfitter and the park ranger double-timed it around the crowd of dancers, intent on reaching their lodges before the princess and her dancers left the event.

They reached the lodges to find the race had been unnecessary. The small fires still burned in each, with many shadows moving in one, and a solitary shadow moving in the other. Closer examination of the silhouettes made it plain the dancers were changing from their ghost shirts. The shadows in the first lodge suggested an undulating many-limbed monster. The shadow in the second outlined an exquisite female form. Glenn turned his back on the lodge; he saw that Two Ravens had done the same.

The ranger cleared his throat, then couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, he whispered, “What did you say her name was?”

“I didn't say,” Two Ravens whispered back. “She answers to 'Alice'. That's how I'll introduce her.” Glenn stared a question. The outfitter read the look and nodded. “It's a long story. I'll tell you later.”

“Okay.” A look of concern crossed Glenn's face. “Wait. I don't have a gift for her.”

Two Ravens waved it away. “She wouldn't take it if you did. Look, Glenn, I should have warned you before now; don't expect a polite reception. Alice doesn't like palefaces.” Glenn did a double-take right out of vaudeville. Two Ravens smiled. “Don't take it personally. She hates the Shoshone nearly as much. To her, we're Snake Indians.”

Glenn turned back to the lodge, wondering how such a lovely package could hold such an ugly point of view. He was too late to see anything.

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