From The Wellpinit Rawhide Press:
Father Arnold Leads Catholics to Championship
Father Arnold scored 33 points Tuesday night, including the game-winning free throws with no time left on the clock, to lead the Catholic Church to a thrilling come-from-behind 111–110 win over the Assembly of God in the championship game of the Spokane Indian Christian Basketball Tournament.
“I wasn’t sure those free throws were going in,” Father Arnold said, “but I sure prayed for them. Who knows? Maybe God was listening this time.”
Randy Peone, minister of the Assembly of God, had no official comment about the game, but was reported to have said that Father Arnold had probably spent more time away from the church than with his church, and that explained all the time he had to practice.
“He just didn’t play like a Catholic,” one spectator said. “Especially not like a Catholic priest.”
“Hey,” responded Bessie, the oldest Catholic on the reservation, “what the hell do any of you know about being Catholic? You have no idea how hard it is.”
A few days after Junior’s burial, while Chess and Checkers were taking a sweat with Big Mom, Thomas Builds-the-Fire heard a scratching on his roof. At first, he wondered which ghost had come to haunt him. But then he heard a knock on the back door.
“Who is it?” Thomas asked. He was still worried about Michael White Hawk.
“Package,” the voice said.
Thomas opened the door just a bit and saw the FedEx guy standing on the back porch, with rappelling gear.
“Jeez,” Thomas said. “It’s just you.”
“Mr. Builds-the-Fire, I presume,” said the FedEx guy.
“You know who I am.”
“We can never be too sure. Sign here.”
Thomas signed the form. The FedEx guy handed him a package and then climbed back onto the roof and scampered away. Thomas closed the door, took the package inside, and set it on the kitchen table. It was a small package, barely weighed anything at all. The return address said Cavalry Records. He didn’t want to open it and almost threw it in the garbage, but curiosity got the best of him. Inside, there was just a letter and a cassette tape.
Dear Coyote Springs,
We just heard about Junior, and we wanted to tell you how sorry we are. We’ll miss him.
Things are going well for us. We signed a deal with Cavalry Records, thanks to your help, and we’re currently working on our debut CD, which will be out next summer. We recorded our first song the other day, and there’s a copy on the tape enclosed.
We both think that Junior is in a better place now.
Sincerely,
Betty and Veronica
Thomas read the letter over a few times. He held the cassette tape in his hands. He didn’t know what to do and was shocked that Betty and Veronica had signed with Cavalry Records. Should he throw that cassette away and never listen to it? That wouldn’t do any good, because the CD would be all over the place next summer. He’d hear it played on the radio. Betty and Veronica would have a Platinum Album, a number one hit, and videos on MTV. Thomas wanted to protect Chess and Checkers from the music on this cassette tape. He held it in his hands for a while, studied its design, then walked over to the tape player he’d hidden away, dropped the cassette into place, and hit the play button. Thomas heard a vaguely Indian drum, then a cedar flute, and a warrior’s trill, all the standard Indian soundtrack stuff. Then Betty’s and Veronica’s beautiful voices joined the mix.
Can you hear the eagle crying?
Can you hear the eagle crying?
I look to the four directions
And try to find some connection
With Mother Earth, Mother Earth
I offer you tobacco and sweetgrass
I offer you tobacco and sweetgrass
I pray to the four directions
And try to find some connection
With Father Sky, Father Sky
And my hair is blonde
But I’m Indian in my bones
And my skin is white
But I’m Indian in my bones
And it don’t matter who you are
You can be Indian in your bones
Don’t listen to what they say
You can be Indian in your bones
Can you hear the buffalo dying?
Can you hear the buffalo dying?
I look to the four directions
And try to make the corrections
For Mother Earth, Mother Earth
I’ll smoke the pipe with you
I’ll smoke the pipe with you
I pray to the four directions
And try to make the corrections
For Father Sky, Father Sky
And your hair is blonde
But you’re Indian in your bones
And your skin is white
But you’re Indian in your bones
And it don’t matter who I am
I am Indian in my bones
I don’t listen to what they say
I am Indian in my bones
Thomas hit the eject button, threw the cassette on the floor, and stomped on it. He pulled the tape ribbon from its casing until it spread over the kitchen like pasta. Using a dull knife, he sliced the tape ribbon into pieces. Then he ran around his house, grabbing photos and souvenirs, afraid that somebody was going to steal them next. He had photographs of his mother and father, a Disneyland cup even though he’d never been there, a few letters and cards. He gathered them all into a pile on the kitchen table and waited.
Victor Joseph
Wellpinit, WA 99040
Jobs I had before.
Leed Gitar Player Coyote Springs
Viceprezidant Senior Class Wellpinit High School.
Mowd lawns and shuveled snow.
Edgeucation.
Graguatid Wellpinit High School 1978.
Watched Jepordee a hole bunch on tv.
Skills.
Drive water truck & rode with best friend Junior alot. Am strong & fast.
Refrences.
Thomas Buildsthefire & Big Mom.
Coyote Springs was gone. Thomas, Chess, and Checkers packed all their stuff into the blue van and left Coyote Springs behind in the house. Victor didn’t want anything to do with Coyote Springs, either. He just wandered around the reservation with his three dogs. He hadn’t taken a shower in a week. Everybody figured he’d be drinking Sterno before too long. They all worried about the dogs.
“We’re leaving,” Thomas had said to Victor earlier that morning.
“For where?”
“Spokane.”
“When you coming back?”
“We aren’t,” said Thomas and then reluctantly asked if Victor wanted to come along. He shook his head and walked away.
Thomas stood in the driveway, studying his HUD house, the familiar angles and weathered wood. It had never been painted. Thomas closed his eyes and saw his mother and father standing on the front porch, waving. When he opened his eyes, Chess was standing beside him.
“Are you going to say goodbye to your dad?” Chess asked.
“I don’t even know where he is,” Thomas said. “Besides, he’s got Indian father radar. He’ll show up at our place in Spokane, knocking on the door at three in the morning.”