Soft lips brushed against Billy’s shoulder.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Uncle Ned tapped on our tent. It’s time to get up.”
René’s whispering words filled Billy’s eardrum. He cracked open his eyes. “I feel like I only fell asleep.”
“Time for breakfast. Then we gotta go.”
“You mean you get to eat breakfast and enjoy a cup of coffee. All I get is water,” Billy grumbled. Still, the luxury in René’s tone had been his sexy fingers stroking Billy’s skin. He shifted and pecked René’s lips. “Fuck, the sun isn’t even awake yet.”
“It’s there. On the horizon. C’mon.”
A hint of worry surfaced. “You’re gonna be there, right?”
“Yep. As far as I know. I’m driving you to the ceremony site.” René cracked open his suitcase and rifled through the contents. “Today’s piercing day, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Billy shivered. He wouldn’t have anything to numb him when one of the older men cut into his flesh and pegged him. Then he’d have to endure more dancing.
“Remember, I’m here.” René cupped Billy’s face. He’d dressed in another pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “If you feel like you’re fading, look for me.”
“I... I will.” Billy nodded.
“You’re not doing this alone. We’re doing this together. Both of us.” René brushed at Billy’s hair. “C’mon...”
They left the tent. While René ate, Billy joined Ned to smoke the pipe and say the morning prayer. Grandpa Chases sat across the picnic table from René. The old man’s gaze drifted to where Ned and Billy prayed in the swaying grass, then drifted back to René.
“Stay focused.” A rare sternness steeped in Ned’s easygoing voice. “Pray to Creator.”
A fleck of heat seeped across Billy’s cheeks. “Gotcha.”
* * * *
Grandpa Chases kept staring at René.
René tugged on his t-shirt and stole a peek where Ned and Billy were smoking their pipe.
Was he expected to also pray? He had no prayers. He hadn’t prayed a day in his life. Everything he learned and believed in came from his parents through action and words. He was to believe in himself. Maybe believing in himself wasn’t enough. From the straight line of the old man’s thin lips, he agreed.
René shoveled down his breakfast. Soon he was in his truck, driving Billy to the ceremony site. “How’d your prayer go?”
“It went well. I asked Creator for strength, as always.” Billy sat straight and stared ahead. “You’re not wearing your sunglasses.”
A flash of embarrassment clambered onto René’s face. “I... I don’t need them yet.”
Billy turned his head. “You sure? There’s something you’re not telling me. Like, how’d your sweat go?”
If René owned the truth, he’d be labeled batshit crazy. No, this was Billy, who believed in the power of the universe.
A travel coffee mug nestled between René’s legs. He lifted the cup and sipped. A niggle of guilt flecked the back of his neck because Billy’s only refreshment was water. “I... I saw myself. Two-t-t-t-two of me.”
“Huh?” Billy squinted.
“Inside the lodge. I had no clue what I was doing.” The words sputtered from René’s mouth. “Not one clue. Then the next thing I know, Grandpa asked me to drum because the heat was getting to me. I was on the verge of passing out.”
“Y-you dr-drummed?” Billy blinked more than a warning red light at a four-way traffic stop. “You?”
“Yeah. Drummed. I didn’t know what I was doing.” René wasn’t one to speak fast, but the words kept zooming from between his lips. “No clue. S-somehow I figured it out...”
A shudder of cold shimmied down René’s spine. He’d figured out how to sing and drum once he’d relinquished control. When he let whatever was there guide him, he’d sung, he’d drummed, he’d prayed, and he’d had a vision.
He squeezed the steering wheel. No way would he let his logical self plant doubt in his head. Science was on the backburner.
“Well?” Billy still hadn’t turned his head.
“I... I saw me. An old me.” René regripped the steering wheel.
“What? Were you older than Grandpa Chases?”
“No. No.” René shook his head. “Not an old me. An old me from the past, dressed like our ancestors used to. I was content standing there. Then me appeared. Me as I know me. The old me didn’t like the other me. He wanted to... fight the other me.” Dammit, someone might show up with the straitjacket.
“Holy shit. Really? You weren’t sleeping? You weren’t dreaming? It just happened?” Billy’s mouth hung open.
René quickly nodded. “Yeah.”
“Geez, man, you had a vision. I’ve been waiting forever for one, and all I get is a bunch of dumb dreams about Hoyt. Or thoughts about him.” Billy reached over and cuffed René’s arm.
“Hey.” René quickly whipped his head in Billy’s direction, who toothily grinned. “What? You believe me?”
“Yeah, of course I do. Go on.”
“I... I started fighting with myself. Grandpa Chases told me my two spirits are at war. The old me held a tomahawk. The other me held a baseball bat. Before we could duel, Grandpa broke it up... in the dream... vision... whatever you wanna call it.”
Billy reached over and palmed René’s hand resting on the stick shift. “I’m glad you told me. I really am. D’you know how long I...” He stared out the passenger window. His palm remained over René’s hand.
“How long you what?”
“Wanted you to believe? To practice our culture? Ned told me not to push you. He said in time you’d find your path—the path that’s right for you.”
“I already found my path.” René’s heart swelled. “And I’m walking it with you. Don’t ask me who’s leading. We seem to be taking turns on this journey.”
“It is a journey. The red road,” Billy murmured.
* * * *
Water dotted Billy’s vision. Cool refreshing water. Sparkling water. His parched throat couldn’t take another day of suffering, not with his knees creaking and groaning, ready to buckle beneath him. The sweat lodge ceremony from earlier had purged him of the last droplet of moisture. Fall, collapse, his body cried.
“Don’t rely on yourself.” Ned’s order was terse. “What have I told you?” Heavy panting filled his words. “Creator is your strength. Speak to Creator.”
Billy raised his chin. If a man in his forties could endure the hardships of this ceremony, so could he at a fresh eighteen. The cedar bracelets no longer scratched at his skin in annoyance, and the cedar wreath on his head wasn’t a prickle of thorns digging into his scalp.
Ned clasped his hand in Billy’s. They swayed back and forth to the drumming.
Creator, pity me. I’m weak. I can’t dance on my own. I need your strength to see me through. I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for my brother. Pity us both. We were raised by two people who didn’t wanna be parents. They were too caught up in their own suffering, traumatized by the intergenerational chain of the Indian Residential Schools and colonization. Please, help me.
His knees gained strength. His sore feet became smoother than grains of sand on a beach. The desert in his mouth became a river of flowing water. He clutched Ned’s fingers tighter while staring at the cottonwood tree of life. They swayed to the drumming and singing. One of the medicine men danced in front of them, holding his eagle feather that he fanned them with.
“You are ready. More than ready.” Ned released their fingers.
Billy again danced alone. He wasn’t sure for how long. When he turned his head briefly, René’ stood outside the circle, bookended by other supporters who offered encouragement to the dancers. His intent stare fed Billy with more strength and determination. The sweetest hint of a kiss appeared on his lips, as if René had reached across the distance separating them to melt his mouth on Billy’s, whispering, “You can do this. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
One of the leaders approached Billy. Some of the dancers had disappeared to be laid out on the buffalo skin for their piercing. His turn had come.
With his heart almost pounding in his throat, he was led to the buffalo skin where the piercer waited, a man around Ned’s age. Ned had reassured Billy the man was an excellent piercer. He even removed fresh razors from a sealed bag to not contaminate Billy’s skin.
The man made the first cut so he could lace the skewer through. Billy winced. The pain was reminiscent of slicing himself on the edge of a piece of paper. Even worse, his suffering had only begun. More cuts were made.
Billy looked up at the sky, refusing to watch the mutilation of his body of his own doing. As the skewer was threaded through his skin, he shivered. Talk about ghastly. The man then worked on Billy’s next breast. He didn’t hold his breath. Instead, he concentrated on the shapes the endless sea of clouds made. One a horse. Another a duck. There was even a big puff of cotton candy.
“Okay.” The man fastened the thongs. “He’s ready.”
Two other men helped Billy off the buffalo skin. Ned lay prostrate, submitting for his piercing through the back because he’d haul buffalo skulls.
The two men led Billy to a painted horse that pranced in beat with the heavy rhythm of the drum and the singing shrieking through the air.
Some dancers were attached to the cottonwood tree. They jerked on their tethers, determined to free themselves. Another was being sung to as he pulled a big buffalo skull.
The one man stood beside Billy, while the other secured his tether to the horse that had quieted and stood perfectly still.
Billy blew on his eagle-bone whistle. Both men gripped his arms again. A third man stood by the horse. He tapped the beautiful beast’s rump. The horse bolted forward while the men clutched Billy so the force of the sudden movement didn’t yank him forward. As his skewered flesh was ripped clean from him and tossed into the air, trailing after the horse, the burning sensation was beyond enormous, beyond painful, and lasted only seconds.
He squeezed his eyes shut, still blowing on his whistle. The pain remained in his chest, pinching and stabbing. The men continued to hold him. Billy kept blowing on the whistle. The shrill sound calmed his quivering insides.
He’d done it. He’d sun danced.
They sat in a couple of lawn chairs. The sun was sinking below the horizon. Tomorrow they’d feast. The last day of the sun dance. Billy had passed on his t-shirt because the area where he’d lost his flesh remained too tender.
René’s knee was bent. His foot rested on his leg. “Are you okay?”
“Yep.” Billy gulped more water. The sky burst with many colors of red, orange, and purple, as if Creator was thanking him for the trust Billy had placed in the Great Mystery.
The same gaggle of girls wiggled by them, pretty Lakota beauties giggling and talking.
Billy turned his head. “Don’t tell me you were beating off the chicks while I was suffering.” He made sure teasing reflected in his statement.
“No idea if girls were around.” René shrugged and tipped his cream soda. “I stood there the whole time.” He pointed to the edge outside the dancing circle.
“The whole time?” Billy gasped. He smacked a mosquito attempting to gnaw on him.
“Yep. The whole time.” René held the can nearer to Billy. “Except when I had to use the john.”
“No sunglasses, either?” Billy blinked.
“Nope. Trust me, I do like to use them to keep my eyes shielded, but you’re right, and so is Grandpa Chases. I had other reasons, too. I kept them right here.” René lifted the specs off his t-shirt where the arm was looped through the scooped neckline. “I wanted you to see me if you needed me.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Billy wasn’t afraid to admit he’d needed help. As Ned would say—a real man didn’t fear extending his hand for assistance. “Or your uncle. Or Creator. All these people who come out to watch, they have no idea what their presence means to us when we’re out there baking under the sun, dying of hunger and thirst.”
“Did it hurt?” René winced. “When I watched that horse rip the flesh from you... man, I had to fight to hold myself in place and not run to you. I’m glad Aunt Ellen was beside me. I must’ve moved, because she grabbed my arm.”
“It still hurts. Not bad. Throbs. Y’know what it’s like. Fresh wounds.”
René nodded. Right in front of everyone who still walked about or settling down for the day, he took Billy’s hand. “Let’s get going. You need to rest.”
After baking under the sun and his skin hotter than the sun, ice seemed to coat Billy. His mouth fell open.
René withdrew his truck keys.
Too stunned to do anything, Billy let himself be led away to the throngs of parked vehicles. Some people eyed them curiously. Some smiled. A couple of guys frowned.
Billy kept walking. He’d never believed he could find a prouder moment than what he’d accomplished during the sun dance. Not true. In this space in time, walking hand in hand with René to the truck, was the best gift ever given to Billy.
* * * *
“Why’d you do it?”
As much as René loved Billy’s inquisitiveness, stubbornness, zest for life, and bravery, there were moments when he wished they could simply lie in peace without having to dissect everything René did. That was Billy. For some reason he wanted to know every thought René let pass through his mind. And he knew what Billy was asking about.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? You had a long day.” René lay stretched out on his back in the same manner as Billy. Cuddling wasn’t an option, because Billy’s wounds were too fresh. Poor Uncle Ned must be lying on his stomach after dragging buffalo skulls by the thongs attached to his back.
“Why’d you do it?”
René sighed. “‘Cause it felt right.”
“That’s it? After all the hiding and stuff. It felt right?” Billy started to sit up.
René laid his hand across Billy’s stomach. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. It’s the only answer I have.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now get some sleep. We have one more day.”
“I wish you talked more.” The words coming from Billy were soft, almost echo-like.
“I wish I did, too.” René laced his fingers through Billy’s. “All I can say is I love you, and it felt right. You were hurting. You went through a lot. I wanted you to know what you mean to me, and what you did, it made me proud.”
“See? How hard was that to say?” There was a smirk René couldn’t see in Billy’s reply.
The truck was packed. Ned and Ellen were staying on. Their children, Jeff and Jennifer, were driving back tomorrow. At four in the morning, Billy and René were heading out, making the journey to beat the traffic that would congest the highways starting around seven.
Grandpa Chases was nowhere to be seen. Only Archie and Mr. and Mrs. Makes Room were seeing them off.
“You’ll be back next year.” Archie flashed a toothy grin.
“For sure,” Billy spoke for them. “I gotta start preparing again, Ned said.”
“I’m talking about your partner.” Archie lifted his chin René’s way.
“I’ll be back.” René wasn’t sure how, with work occurring during the summer. No worries. He’d figure something out. He wasn’t going to let Billy endure another sun dance by himself.
“This time you won’t be an observer.” Archie kept grinning. “Here.” He reached behind him and held up the hand drum and stick he’d retrieved from the picnic table. “From Grandpa.”
Flabbergasted, René wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh... where is he?”
“Still sleeping. He doesn’t get up until the sun gets up. He’s as traditional as they come and lives by the season and the day. The sun, moon, and stars are his timekeeper.”
Archie reached behind him again. “He also has this for you.” He held out a beautiful pipe, intricately carved with two of everything. Two eagles. Two horses. Two tiny drums. Two drumsticks.
Two spirits...
“Holy fu—I mean, whoa.” René hadn’t been expecting such a gift. So that was what the old man had been up to at the ceremony grounds, sitting in his lawn chair, whittling away. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll make good use of them.” Archie shrugged.
“I will. I will.” René looked to Billy whose mouth hung open. “Thank you.”
“See you next year. Safe travels. We don’t believe in goodbye. Only until we meet again.” Archie patted René’s arm.
“Then it’s until we meet again.” With Billy in tow, René made his way to the truck, carrying his new gifts from a man who’d helped set him on the right track.
His heart was heavy that he didn’t get to speak to Grandpa Chases one last time.