“We’re talking about changing the course of history here,” Caleb said.
They had spent another two weeks at Placerita while Sandia got the school up and running. And speaking of running, Sandia took to riding Daisy every day. So much so, if ever Caleb wondered where Sandia had got to, she was most likely off somewhere with Daisy.
She was sure a sight to see flying outta that paddock the day of the schoolhouse picnic. The prettiest sight he’d ever seen. She really was a tough city girl, no doubt. Five foot four little fireball.
She’d never asked to go riding with Caleb again, much to his dismay, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask. So, he kept his mouth shut and longed for another chance to be alone with her in silence. Still. These past weeks had been the best of his life.
He’d thought his parents would be proud before, but now, with the school...things around the ranch had taken on a loftier feel. A more far-reaching goodness. Caleb attributed it all to Sandia.
Intermittently, Sandia and Grandfather would help him plan for Wounded Knee. Caleb had even called on some of the other Native Americans on the ranch to join them.
“What if we bring all the women and children back to Placerita?” Sandia suggested.
“And ask the men to sacrifice themselves?”
“Oh. Right. Well, when you put it that way…”
“No, it’s not a bad idea, I just mean, we’d need to bring it before them, in a council.”
“You mean to have like a pow-wow with the tribe?”
Caleb laughed. “Pow-wow is a modern word, but yes.”
And here they were. They had jumped to Wounded Knee and were hiding in a nearby ravine a little upstream. Crawling to the top of the hill, they could look down on the Lakota encampment as well as the 7th Cavalry’s camp on the ridge just above it. The army tents ominously standing over the Lakota like a prison guard standing over his prisoner. Caleb’s blood began to boil. Stay calm, stay cool, he said to himself.
They’d come dressed in deerskin and moccasins with blankets of buffalo hide for warmth. They wanted to be able to approach the Indian camp without drawing attention.
His thoughts returned once again to the many conversations he’d had with Sandia and the others over the past couple weeks. He’d grown quite attached to her. It was an unsettling and unfamiliar feeling for Caleb. The only other person he could associate the feeling with was Ensey.
Unfortunately, Sandia had not attempted to kiss him again since the attempted robbery. Caleb still wasn’t convinced it was an ex-girlfriend. But if he was honest with himself, who else could it be?
What was he feeling for this woman?
His thoughts drifted to his father and how much he’d loved Ada when they were alive. Thaddeus was like a blathering fool for Caleb’s mother. Thaddeus was truly a man before his time. Ironic, Caleb thought, that despite his father not being a very good soldier he would’ve made a much better Time Dancer. He was a better person than Caleb. Less selfish.
“Maybe if you hadn’t made Little Bighorn so one-sided,” Stands Alone said, a Narragansett from the early contact days.
Caleb would have died if he had stayed with Custer and the 7th Cavalry. Ensey had saved him in more ways than one. If she hadn’t gotten sick, he would most likely not have survived the battle, nor would he have become a Time Dancer.
Although, technically, according to Grandfather, Caleb was not yet a Time Dancer. The old man took every opportunity he could to remind him.
“You are just as good a person as your father, adahy.”
Grandfather enjoyed answering to Caleb’s inner thoughts. It was especially frightening when Caleb used to daydream during his training in the old days. “Wake up!” the old man would shout inside his head. Very freaky.
“You are no more selfish and no less of a person,” Grandfather continued, “you are simply not a man. Yet. Your father was a man who knew who he was, knew what he wanted, and did right by the people around him. Very simple, adahy.”
“Exactly, who he was and what he wanted were very simple...I want--”
“I want, I want,” the old man mocked. “You want more, just like every spoiled child on the planet. You want more, and worse, you think you deserve it.”
Sandia poked Caleb, bringing him back to the present.
“It’s time,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
The sun was barely visible through the cold cloud cover as it sank below the horizon. The Lakota were in for another freezing night on the open plains. Hopefully, he and Sandia would bring a little warmth along with them.
Pulling their buffalo skins tightly around them, they made their way toward the Lakota camp. A fire was already blazing in the center of the scattered teepees. Drums and chanting could be heard.
The Lakota were performing a ‘Ghost Dance,’ which is one of the reasons the 7th were so spooked. The Ghost Dance was supposed to bring all their dead relatives back to life, including all the buffalo. All the Indians that had been killed by the wa see choo would rise again and defeat the white man.
Tonight, all they’ll get is a half-breed time traveler and a city girl from the future. Hopefully, that would do.
And perhaps an appearance from one of Caleb’s dead relatives for good measure.
If the entire camp could’ve jammed inside Spotted Elk’s teepee, they would’ve. However, only about thirty people could fit, so they rolled up the bottom of the teepee so that folks could sit all the way around it as well. And everyone did.
“Brothers and sisters,” Caleb said in Lakota, “I come to you with a vision. I have seen your future.”
Murmurs rose up from the crowd.
“I ask for the council’s wisdom and guidance as to what the vision means and what is to be done.”
“We do not know you, why should we listen to you?” a voice called from the crowd.
“Hear me out and then decide,” Caleb answered.
“Sitting Bull has recently been killed, as you all know. It is one of the many reasons you have traveled here to the Pine Ridge reservation. You have surrendered peacefully to the Army, but tensions are still very high after Little Bighorn and now the Ghost Dance. The soldiers are frightened.”
“They should be,” someone else called, “our ancestors will rise again!”
This brought more murmuring and head-nodding from the crowd.
“Not before they slaughter you in the morning!” Caleb shouted above them.
All went silent.
“Tomorrow morning the army will surround this camp with Hotchkiss guns, demand you hand over your weapons--”
“But we have already surrendered peacefully,” Spotted Elk said, coughing. “I’m a little sick and didn’t feel like fighting today.”
“Yes, Chief, and yet, this is what will be. They will surround you and demand you hand over your weapons. Black Coyote will accidentally fire a shot--”
“From his fancy new rifle?” someone interrupted.
“The one he paid too much for,” another one added. The room erupted in laughter.
“Of all the things you have said thus far, what you say of Black Coyote I believe,” Spotted Elk smiled. Everyone laughed again, pointing at a confused looking man holding a shiny new rifle.
“Black Coyote is deaf, so he pretends not to understand what is going on around him sometimes. Especially if a white man is talking,” Spotted Elk said, indicating Caleb.
“I’m part Cherokee,” Caleb said.
“That’s what every white man says.” More laughter.
“Once the shot is fired,” Caleb pressed on, “the soldiers will attack and kill almost everyone in this camp. Including your wives and children.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad for Black Coyote; he never listens to her anyway!”
Once more, the crowd erupted in laughter.
Caleb loved Indians. Always so eager to laugh. Eager to tease. Eager to ignore the inevitable. It was their childlike innocence and playfulness, as much as lack of technology or geography, which made them so susceptible to a takeover. Even war was considered a game, more for trophies and glory than any real gain.
They were a beautiful product of nature. Not without flaws, but pure and perfect in the way nature is pure and perfect, without guile or pretense.
Those people willing to strip the land and destroy its beauty for gain would always have the edge over a people like this. A people who simply existed to live and love in harmony with their surroundings...and enjoy some good sport now and again. And a good laugh.
Suddenly the reverie of the group was broken by a burst of sparks from the council fire. Smoke billowed and stung the eyes of those closest to it. Gasps rose from the crowd like rippling water. And there rising in the center of the flames, was Grandfather.
Bless that old buzzard, Caleb thought. He always had his back.
The Lakota were stunned.
“It is the prophecy! The dead have returned!” they shouted.
Grandfather held up a hand to silence them all.
“I have come as an ancestor to all,” he said, “I have come to wake my brothers and sisters from a deep sleep.”
“Have you come to finally rid us of the white man and bring back the buffalo? Have you come to fulfill the prophecy?” came more shouts.
“Listen to me! I have come to tell you that what this man says is all true. His vision of the future is true! If you will not listen to him, listen to me! If you do nothing, tomorrow morning’s massacre will mark the end of our people’s era on this earth. It will take generations to rebuild the spirit that is broken. It will take generations to heal the hatred and pain. Wake up, brothers and sisters. Wake up!”
And with that, the old man vanished into smoke and flame.
All was silent.
Finally, Spotted Elk stood. The gathering held its breath in anticipation of his next words.
Spotted Elk opened his mouth, and sneezed. Then coughed. Then sniffled.
“Our ancestors have spoken. We will lay down our arms. I wish for no more bloodshed. More killing will always lead to more killing.”
Nods of assent from the council.
“Now, what else would you have us do?” Spotted Elk said, directing his gaze toward Caleb. “What else would you have us do to avoid this massacre?”
“I, I can take the women and children with me...to safety,” Caleb stuttered.
“There is no such place, brother.”
“There is, Chief, I give you my word. It is far from here and cannot be touched by war or hatred.” This might’ve been an exaggeration, but Caleb wanted it to be true, and he would do everything he could to make it true
“How will our women and children get to this place? Why can we not all go?”
“There is only room for the future. Your children are that future. The ancestor you just met has prepared a haven for us. He protects it for us. As will I.”
Spotted Elk considered his words and looked deep into his eyes, boring into Caleb’s soul.
Finally, he nodded, then turned to a woman sitting at his side.
“What do you say, Wise Woman? What is your decision for us at this crossroads?”
All eyes went to the wrinkled woman, whose face shone and white hair glistened in the firelight.
She looked up from the fire and said, “We will go with the Time Dancer.”
Caleb almost fell over.
“You will stack your weapons at the foot of the soldiers camp before the first light of morning,” she continued, looking up at Spotted Elk, “then you will sit in a half moon with your arms and legs crossed, and wait for the soldiers to rise. I will see that the next generation thrives in the new world, and you will see that our people go down in history with pride and honor. This way, our spirit will be kept alive.”
Again, Spotted Elk nodded. “The Wise Woman has spoken.”
“I’m not finished,” she said, and Spotted Elk quickly went quiet once again. The dynamic between the two made Caleb think of his parents. This is exactly how they were together. Amazing. Caleb couldn’t help but smile at the memory.
“I want to know who this lovely girl is beside you,” the old woman said with a sparkle in her eye, “and why you do not consult with her.”
“Oh, I already have,” Caleb blurted. The wise woman giggled, and the rest of the Lakota joined her.
Sandia stood, and everyone fell silent.
“It’s true, grandmother,” Sandia said in English, while Caleb translated in Lakota, “we have talked of this for many nights together. That is why we are here to bring the issue to this council. We thank you for hearing us, and we thank you for your wise decision.”
The old woman smiled and said, “I like this girl.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” Caleb quipped.
“Is she your woman?” she asked, smiling mischievously.
Caleb looked at Sandia, who was waiting for him to translate.
Was she his woman? She was definitely the most amazing, nerve-rattling, confoundingly intriguing and beautiful woman he’d ever met. He didn’t want to lose her. He wanted her in his life, by his side, like she was now. It felt right.
But was he ready for such a change? Was he ready to give it all up and be the man his grandfather believed he was? Be the man his father was? Choose her as the one woman he would be with for the rest of his life? Forever and ever?
He looked back at the Wise Woman and said, “Not yet.”
“You’re an idiot,” she responded.
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says.”