Contemporary Microfiction About First Nations People
He came down off the mountain, that afternoon, and was carrying more than just his belongings. He was thinking, and his heart was filled with questions. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to do with all of the supernatural that had occurred? On the one hand his vision quest had been a huge success. He felt connected to the earth and to his people now, but what was he supposed to do with it all? How do you take feelings and put them into action?
The woman in white did give him some directions. He had a few people in mind that could teach him the old ways, or at least some of the songs. He knew, that he knew, he was to be a drummer, but he needed to learn that as well. Here he was seventeen, and he knew almost nothing of his people’s ways. He had rejected it all, for a long time. Tears filled his eyes, as he reached the old pickup at the bottom of the mountain. He threw his gear in the back, and headed for home.
And for the first time in his life he wanted to dance, but he did not know much about it – other than feeling the music, and flowing with it. As he drove the highway, he realized he was getting ahead of himself, and he thought about his time on the mountain, and the incredible peace there. He inwardly relaxed, and began to think of what to tell his father and mother.
His parents were at the dinner table when he came in. There was some small talk, as Johnny drank some chicken broth. He was feeling weak and hungry now from all the fasting. Then he opened up, and told them everything, including seeing his Grandfather’s spirit, and the vision of the lady in white. His mother was shocked that all of this had taken place, while his father just sat there and glowed. And he told them, “I remembered what Grandfather used to call me, it was Nighthawk”. “That’s the name I want to go by”. “And I need someone to teach me the ways, the songs, maybe even the language.”
Two weeks later he was being taught after work, by Tom Crowfoot, a trusted friend and a member of the people’s council. Nighthawk thought it was unusual, but Tom started out his training by telling stories, not just any stories, but stories about, and by, his people. He started with creation, how people came into being, and how his tribe began, and then how they lived in the mountains in peace, for many years. He even told funny stories about husbands and wives. After all that was a part of life, and part of the history of the people.
“You must find out where you are from – in order to know where you are going”, was Tom’s favorite expression. There was so much wisdom in this, and in the stories. The two of them would sit outside, if the weather was nice, and carve wood, Tom while he talked, and Nighthawk while he listened.
Tom never stopped telling stories, there were always stories to tell. But after a couple of weeks he began to teach Nighthawk some songs. They flowed like a river. Nighthawk’s spirit began to soar – and it would never stop soaring. The first song they sang together, was about the eagle, and as Nighthawk closed his eyes to feel the song even more, he had a vision. He saw himself dancing – and he was dancing the Eagle Dance…….
Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree
images from google, video from youtube
Blessings to you, and PEACE!