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In English.
Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers ria9781475986518_new
- Titel
- Saving Skunk
- Autor
- Roach, Richard R.
- Verlag
- iUniverse
- Veröffentlichungsjahr
- 2013
- Zustand
- New
- Einband
- Softcover
- Sprache
- Englisch
- ISBN-10
- 1475986513
- ISBN-13
- 9781475986518
- Artikelgewicht
- 405 Gramm
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Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Saving Skunk
A Novel
By Richard R. RoachiUniverse, Inc.
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER 1
Present
The door crashed open, sweeping in the cold wind of a Minnesotafall. It whistled through the tiny Indian reservation house, a mereshack, set off alone at the end of the last dirt road. Heidi ran toembrace her father in her birthday dress. He was disheveled in his tornblack-and-red wool shirt. His unshaven face, deeply scarred from toomany fistfights, presented a persistent crooked smile. He opened thedoor reeking of alcohol.
"Happy birthday. Here's your fucking birthday cake," Roycescreamed as he threw the box onto the table. It slid off the Formicasurface, slamming into the oven door on the other side of the table. "Shit.I didn't mean for that to happen." His face flushed with embarrassmentand alcohol.
"You're drunk," she said as she cowered on the floor beside her cake.Red and green frosting, Heidi's favorite colors, dripped down the ovendoor. She picked it off with her finger and stuck the sweet commercialtopping into her mouth.
Royce took a swing at her but missed. "Get up off the damn floor."
"Mother doesn't want you swearing at me." Her voice was just louderthan a whisper. "Besides, I thought you were harvesting wild rice."
"The reservation council said I was disruptive." He spit out the lastword. "They kicked me out."
"Daddy, you aren't disruptive when you're sober. You're sweet andkind and gentle."
"Since when does a teenager have the right to criticize mydrinking?" His face blazed with anger. "You're not old enough toknow what you're talking about. Wait till the world has knocked youdown a few times; then come and tell me about drinking." He slappedher face. This time he didn't miss. Heidi felt the welt swelling on hercheek. She covered her head in defense and started to cry. He slappedher again. "Would you grow up? You're eighteen years old today.Crying is for babies."
"Be nice, Daddy. Please be nice."
"Who cares about your goddamn birthday, anyway? I have moreimportant problems to deal with. Now shut up and eat your cake." Hestaggered out of the house. The door screeched on its hinges as anotherburst of cold air blasted through the kitchen.
Heidi chased him out the door. "Daddy, you shouldn't drive whenyou're drunk. Come back in the house and sing `Happy Birthday' tome. You haven't sung to me yet."
"Eat your cake. I got things to do."
Heidi watched his unused seatbelt catch in the car door as he droveoff. She cringed as she watched the car swerve down the dirt road. Tearsfilled her eyes. She touched the welt on her cheek. The cold air soothedthe swelling.
She turned back to the house. The tar paper flapped in the wind,exposing the underlying boards. Their house had never been finished.Royce had spent the money the tribe had given him to finish the sidinggetting drunk. An addition perched on the side was added several yearslater when rice-harvest money bought a washing machine and hot waterheater for a shower.
The rusty hinges squeaked in resistance as she yanked the dooropen. She plunked down on the kitchen floor beside her cake. Her fatherhad chosen her favorite white cake with cream filling. The frosted redroses on green leaves wilted in the shattered bakery box. She put herfinger into the cream filling and stuck it in her mouth. It was so smoothand sweet. She broke off a piece of the cake and nibbled it, but it souredin her mouth and her stomach convulsed with cramps.
* * *
Several hours later, her mother, Angela, came home from work. Sheparked in the rutted dirt patch outside Heidi's bedroom window. Heidiwas still sitting on the kitchen floor, fingers smeared with cake crumbsand cream filling. She hadn't moved since her father left. Her five-foot-tenframe, tall for an Ojibwa Indian girl, wilted beside the oven door.Red and green frosting smeared across the welt on her face contrastedagainst her high cheekbones and caramel, acne-free complexion. Tearsstained the front of her party dress. Even her long black hair, which hadbeen combed so straight for her celebration, was littered with crumbs.
"Heidi, what happened?" Her mother put the mail on the table andknelt beside her.
Heidi looked up. "I am sorry. I got the dress you made me all messy."
"Don't worry about that; what happened to your cake?"
"Daddy threw my cake and left. He didn't even sing to me." Sheburst into sobs.
"Oh, sweetheart. My precious daughter." She hugged her, tearswelling in her eyes. "Where is he now?"
"I don't know where he went. He ran out the door and took offin his old car. It's falling apart, you know. He didn't even put on hisseatbelt."
"He hit you. I can see the welt across your face," Angela said.
"He hit me twice. He said that I was not old enough to criticize hisdrinking. But I pleaded with him not to drive when he was drunk."
Her mother sang a song in Anishinabe. Heidi knew most of thewords. It was an old Ojibwa healing song, full of magic words thathealed her deep hurting, words that she understood but that could notbe translated, words she had memorized since she was a child. She lovedto hear her mother sing healing songs. Angela's lilting voice was salveto her soul.
"I've decided to be a healer, Mother." Then she dropped her gaze,fearing her mother's disapproval. "Was that arrogant of me? I'm sorry.I should have asked if I could become a healer."
"You are strong willed, Heidi. But you are also special, Quek quekidji wun o que." Her Anishinabe name meant Whirling Water. "You arefrom a lineage of women who heal. I am sure that you can become ahealer, but you will have to be tested by the Midewiwin Society."
"Will I be able to heal Daddy?"
"Oh, sweets, I pray that you can heal him. I've been too weak. Iquit drinking nine years and one month ago. I was as bad as your fatherwhen you were young. The healing songs helped me quit."
"I'm so glad you quit. You have been a great mother to me. AndDaddy is so nice when he is sober. Is there a plant medicine or a healingsong to make him sober?"
"The liquor was brought by the foreigners many years ago, but theGreat Spirit has not given us a powerful medicine to counteract its evilfor everyone. Maybe you will find one." Her soft stroking of Heidi'scheeks soothed the swelling.
"I will have to go on a vision quest like the boys, won't I?"
"Yes, you will. You remember when you went through the initiationto become a woman when you first menstruated. That was easy comparedto becoming a healer. Are you willing to spend almost a year learning thestories and songs? After that you have to prepare for your vision quest,enduring at least four days of fasting to discover your Manitou spirit, whowill give you the knowledge and power to heal. Finally, you will have tobe cleansed and meet with the Midewiwin elders for approval. It requiresgreat humility and tenacity. Do you really want to commit to that?"
Heidi grimaced and closed her eyes.
"Does that frighten you, Quek queki dji wun o que?"
"I choose not to be afraid of anything that will help my people,Mother. You have trained me well." But Heidi knew that her mother'sbrother would make the final decision regarding whether she could gothrough the initiation.
"Maybe your uncle Marten will sponsor you. He will have to givemany gifts to your Midewiwin sponsor and the elders for you to becomea healer, a Mide. Once you start, you must finish or you will not onlydisappoint Marten, but you will disgrace him."
"I will do my very best, even...
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