Son Who Returns by Gary Robinson

Author:Gary Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Publishing Company
Published: 2014-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The Powwow Trail

School started a few days after my give-away at the Pala powwow. I had to forget about the whole intertribal cultural thing for a while and turn my attention to the classroom.

The Santa Ynez Valley High School was located only a few blocks from the reservation. It was an easy walk back and forth each day. No waiting for a bus or a carpool.

I quickly discovered that several of my extended Chumash family members went to the same school. That was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because I already knew a few kids at my new school. Bad because anything that happened at school was immediately known by everyone else in the family. And everyone on the rez. Bye-bye privacy.

Back in Texas, Dad did get himself a laptop so we could email and message each other. He began contacting me once a week. We set this up for Wednesday nights. I missed him, but this helped.

“I think it’s rad that you’re involved with powwows,” Dad said online.

“Rad?” I shot back. “That’s so twenty years ago, Dad. I don’t think the teen slang works for you.”

“Okay, sorry,” Dad replied. “I think it’s great that you’re involved with powwows. It’s character building and good exercise. But schoolwork has to be your number one priority.”

“I know,” I agreed. “Nana said I could do my weekend homework in the RV while we’re driving to a powwow or coming back.”

“That’s fine, but I’m going to check in with Nana to make sure you’re doing that,” he replied.

We put the RV homework rule to the test the very next weekend. We headed out for the Serrano powwow Friday afternoon. This would be my first full competition.

The Serrano Reservation was located in the California desert, east of Los Angeles. When we got there, the camping area was already jam-packed with RVs, vans, and tents. But friends of Adrian’s had reserved us a spot in the crowded campground.

Adrian and I got to the registration table just before they closed down for the night. There were still a few dancers waiting in line ahead of us. I introduced myself to the teen dancer at the end of the line. He was a little taller and heavier than me and looked a little older.

“I’m Mark, and this is my first competition,” I said with enthusiasm. “Teen Men’s Traditional.”

“The name’s Charley,” he said. “Same category. You probably heard of me. Where are you from?”

“Chumash Rez, up near Santa Barbara,” I answered. “Sorry, I haven’t heard of you. Where are you from?”

“I live in LA, but I’m Lakota—Pine Ridge,” he said. “My dad’s a Native actor. He’s been in several movies.”

“Cool,” I said.

A space at the registration table opened up, and the registrar said, “Next.”

Charley was next in line, but before moving up to the table he said, “Sorry to say you’ll be wasting your time and money this weekend. And every weekend for that matter. I never lose.”

He turned and stepped up to the table to begin his registration.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.