by Bernice Loafer

They called him Charlie. He was a small sensitive boy with dark hair and eyes.

When he was 6 years old his parents were lost in a fire. Since then he was raised by his grandparents.
They stressed the importance of pride in his Native American heritage and to be proud of who he was. They taught him the teachings of the old ways. With them, the most important one - Respect for your Elders.

On Sunday's Grandfather took Charlie up to the hill behind their house. Grandfather had iron gray hair in braids and was slow in his movements. When they finally reached the top of the hill, Charlie waited eagerly for Grandfather to tell him the stories and legends, which were handed down from his own Grandfather. Charlie's favorite story was about is Great Great Grandmother, a survivor of a great massacre. Her name was 'Rushes', she was small and wore her dark hair in braids. She treasured and wore a string of red beads that were given to her as a child by her Grandmother. Grandfather related this story with much sadness. On clear full moon nights Charlie and Grandfather sat atop the hill. Grandfather would tell funny stories and chuckling he told Charlie he felt closer to his relatives when looking at the stars as each star represented a departed soul.

Charlie lived with his Grandparents in a small log cabin in a remote area of the reservation across the border from a small town. Towns that bordered the reservation were called 'Border towns'. They were some of the most prejudiced against Indian people in the state.

Because it was the closest to their home, Grandfather enrolled Charlie in this town's school. It's not easy being Indian in a border town school. From the beginning the other students made racial remarks. Calling him dirty Indian and telling him to go back where he came from. Others ignored him completely. As Charlie grew older the taunts grew meaner. During recess Charlie was involved in fights defending who he was, leaving him with many bruises. At first Grandfather complained to the school

authorities and the harassment would stop for a while only to start up again. Charlie tried to conceal his bruises not wanting to alarm his Grandparents. The school bullies chased Charlie home after school throwing rocks and chanting "Dog Eater - Dog Eater". After the first few fights Charlie cried, but never in the presence of anyone. He learned to harden himself against the beatings and vowed never to cry again. When Charlie entered high school it wasn't so bad. But the damage had already been done. His self-esteem was zero. Wanting to be part of a group, he fell in with a bad crowd. He picked up bad habits and eventually dropped out of school. Charlie stayed away from home two or three days at a time. Ashamed to have his Grandparents see his hopeless, going-nowhere attitude.

When he did go home they were genuinely happy to see him. Grandmother making his favorite big fat fry bread. He knew they loved him, but that wasn't enough. Charlie felt something was missing in his life. He took his Grandfather's old car to go to a pal's house where they were having a big party. Maybe he could forget his meaningless life for awhile.

Charlie had traveled this highway before. It was a long, lonely desolate road with farms and ranches few and apart. Tonight the sky was overcast hinting at the possibility of more snow. Patches of it lay across the surrounding countryside. Low rolling hills with trees all around the hidden ravines, where chokecherries grew in abundance in the summer, were now covered in snow. Charlie drove down the hill, noticing only moments before he hit it, a large patch of ice on the road. He automatically stepped on his brakes, which made his car turn completely around, and slid into the ditch. Shaken but not hurt, he got out on the passenger side, the drivers side being stuck in the deep snow. He checked for damage to the car, and finding none, glanced around at his surroundings. The night was dark, silent and cold. As he turned, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a very faint glow among the trees on that small rise. Thinking it might be a farmhouse, Charlie decides to investigate. Grabbing a warm blanket that was always in the back seat, Charlie starts towards the faint glow. When he reaches the small embankment and looks down below, he gasps out loud at the pitiful scene below. A young Indian woman with long dark braids, wearing a blood stained buckskin dress sits by a small fire, her feet wrapped in remnants of canvas. Pieces of what appear to be a shawl are visible under her tattered blanket, which barely covers her and the small child she holds. The child is shivering with cold. She holds it tightly against her as if to keep it warm with her body heat. The young woman looks up at Charlie. Their eyes lock and hold for an instant. He sees no fear in her eyes-only resignation. Moving over a bit, she motions for Charlie to come and sit by the fire. As Charlie approaches, the child makes a small whimpering sound. The young woman speaks quietly to the child, which quiets it. Charlie silently hands the blanket to the woman. She wraps it around herself and the child. As she does so, her movement reveals under the tattered blanket a string of red beads around her neck. Charlie gasps out loud as the color drains from his face. In that instant he can hear his Grandfathers voice from long ago.

The young woman turns and points down towards the valley below where there was a great commotion. The ground is covered with snow and many men dressed in blue wearing great overcoats are milling around. Some are loading wagons with what appear to be forms frozen into grotesque shapes.

There is sadness, horror and helplessness on her face as silent tears slowly run down her cheeks.

The scene is the aftermath of the Wounded Knee massacre, where on December 1890 the 7th Cavalry slaughtered over 300 men, women and children regardless of age to stop the Ghost Dance religion. The frozen bodies were carelessly tossed into a mass grave atop a hill.

Charlie doesn't know how long he sat by the fire. He must have fallen asleep, for when he awakens the sun is shining brightly. Down in the valley it is peaceful and quiet.

Charlie looks around for his fireside companions who are nowhere in sight. His blanket, neatly folded, lies nearby. Charlie wonders if this was all a dream. He touches the ashes, which are still faintly warm. He walks back to the car to wait for help. He sits with the motor running to keep warm, the scene from last night running through his mind. He asks himself, was there a meaning in what he saw?

Charlie thinks long and hard on his past misdeeds. He knows he can't let his painful childhood destroy his life. He realizes that his footsteps are not his alone. His life is a testament to his ancestors, and his people who came before him. He must rise above the bitterness, to remember the teachings of his Elders and carry on the traditions of his people. This is what it means to ‘Honor our Elders’, which his Grandfather had tried so hard to instill in him. I show respect to my Elders, by showing respect to myself. I honor our people, who look to me to carry on our traditions and teachings.

Watch for Bernice’s book “Apple” coming late 2005 or early 2006 to a bookstore near you.