Bell Whistles SecretsChapter 8 Historical Perspective
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Drumbeats Within His Soul free porn video
It had been a long drive for Dan and he was tired. Although he had been driving for only two days, his odyssey began a while ago. Dissatisfied with his life, his work, and his inner being, he knew he needed a change. He had always wanted to get back to his roots, his origins, and he could hear the distant drums beating within his soul. He knew his Native land was calling him home.
Dan did research in the library and on the internet and came upon a small Shawnee reservation near Midwest City and Shawnee, Oklahoma. He sent a long letter to the Tribal Council and petitioned for a visitation pass. He detailed his life, his Shawnee heritage, and his need to find answers within himself about the problems he was having. He was very gracious and courteous with his letter and he hoped and prayed they would be favorable to him coming. A few weeks later, his wish was granted. He immediately felt a warm peace come over him, a peace that he always felt whenever he read about the Shawnee and their way of life.
Although he was only 1/8 Native, most people could tell Dan had Indian blood coursing through his veins. His black glossy hair, high cheekbones, dark brown eyes, and his perpetually tanned skin gave him away easily. His grandfather had been adopted by northern Ohio farmers named Rieger when he was a toddler. They didn’t know much about his parentage other than he was born out of wedlock to a Shawnee mother and a foreign father. Unable to face the shame of the elders, she left the infant in the care of the state. Nothing was heard of her again.
Dan’s affinity with Indians began at a young age. Whenever a western show or movie was on TV, he would root for the Indians and would be sad whenever they lost. He read as much as he could about the history of the Shawnee Nation and it’s heroes: Tecumseh, Blue Jacket, and Cornstalk among others. Trying to keep some kind of tie with his origins, Dan’s grandfather affectionately called him ‘Screaming Turtle’. Shawnees are named after a significant incident upon their birth or a characteristic they possessed. The first time his grandfather saw him, Dan was an infant and having his diaper changed. He was on his back, kicking, yelling, and very upset. Dan reminded his grandfather of a turtle who had been flipped, hence the name.
Now, Screaming Turtle was going home. Going home to what, he didn’t know. He had asked for and received vacation time for his trip and he was grateful for the time off. His syllabus was up to date and he made sure it was easy to follow for the substitute. He couldn’t remember exactly when he started to dislike teaching, whether it was when his marriage failed miserably, or when the incident in the parking lot occurred. The two seemed to go hand in hand, the one following the other.
It had been a year ago when he came upon the circle of students who were watching the fight. After he pushed his way through the ring, he told them both to stop. They did, but one of them pulled out a knife. Scared out of his wits, but feeling the need and responsibility to protect the other students, Dan stood his ground and tried to talk the student into dropping the weapon. The student didn’t listen and took an awkward swipe at him. Dan dodged the assault and was able to dislodge the knife with the help of other teachers. Unfortunately, while doing so, Dan accidently broke the student’s wrist and one of his fingers.
Falling to the pressure of the parents of the injured student, the superintendent suspended Dan for three days for excessive force. Although urged by friends and family to fight the suspension and to sue the student for attempted assault, Dan instead chose to close up within himself and not fight. He was crushed by the decision of the superintendent and could not understand why his employers would do that to him.
Dan was never one to communicate well outside of the classroom, so when he cut himself off, he only made his already rocky marriage worse. No matter how hard she tried, his former wife couldn’t get him out of his silent, sullen state. To her credit, she tried very hard to keep the marriage going. And then she stopped trying.
Teaching was nothing like he thought it would be. Dan was finding the blank stares, the lack of interest, and the underlying insolence of the students disconcerting. He was disheartened by the fact that he was burnt out after only four years. He was lost, confused, and out of focus. It was then that he began to long for a simpler life. He bought CD’s of Native music, taking in the life and spirit of the flutes and drums. He felt relaxed and at peace whenever he listened, losing himself and imagining that he was sitting at a fire, listening to a Chief telling a story about a great war or hunt. He was drawn closer and closer to that image.
He didn’t know what he expected to find once he arrived. Dan knew he was restless and he desperately wanted to regain the love of teaching he had when he graduated from college. He wanted to find an inner peace within himself that would last all of the time, not just when he listened to music.
Dan arrived late on a Sunday afternoon at the reservation and was greeted by a large, burly, and gruff officer at the entrance.
‘Papers,’ he said as a greeting, wary of any stranger who wanted to enter their land, no matter how Native he looked.
Dan handed him all of his paperwork, the letter from Blackhawk, the elder of the council, papers proclaiming his Shawnee heritage, birth certificate, ID cards and other miscellaneous items.
The deputy looked at each piece carefully, studying them for authenticity and glancing at Dan from time to time. He had been expecting the visitor, but he still wanted to make sure of his identity. You just never knew who might try to enter their land without permission. After a few minutes, the deputy handed everything back to Dan and smiled thinly.
‘You are welcome because Blackhawk welcomes you. I welcome you because you are a brother in blood.’ He extended his hand to Dan through the car window and Dan took it. His grip was amazingly strong and Dan grimaced a bit. ‘I am Snow Wolf, also known as Chris. I will have another deputy lead you to Blackhawk’s house. I hope that you will enjoy your stay.’
‘I know I will,’ Dan replied.
He followed a red jeep driven by the other deputy through the winding roads of the reservation. There were many small houses scattered about, along with varying sizes of apartment buildings. Dan saw several small school buildings, some old and dilapidated, while others seemed newer. He passed the government center, several stores, and many fields of crops. After almost a half hour of driving, they stopped in front of a medium sized house, a one story brick structure.
The deputy got out, strode to the door and knocked. Dan got out of his car as well, but hung back. A middle-aged man dressed in sandals, blue jeans, and a blue denim shirt answered. His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and hung down to the small of his back. The deputy left quickly and Dan didn’t get a chance to thank him. The long-haired man beckoned Dan to come forward.
‘Please come in, Dan,’ he said in a soft, almost melodic voice. Dan came to him and followed Blackhawk into his house. It’s walls were covered with pictures, posters, and paintings of his family and his heritage. Dan’s nervousness evaporated quickly, immediately at ease in the presence of Blackhawk.
‘Can I get you some water? Tea?’ Blackhawk asked.
‘No, thank you,’ Dan replied as he continued to look around the room.
‘My family interests you,’ Blackhawk remarked, studying his young visitor.
‘I’ve always been fascinated with the Shawnee and their lives.’
‘So you said in your correspondence,’ Blackhawk said. ‘You intrigued me with your desire to find a simpler life for yourself. I cannot offer such a life for you. Our people struggle everyday and work hard to maintain the life they have. We are not a sanctuary fo
r people who struggle outside this reservation.’ Blackhawk’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He then looked at Dan thoughtfully. ‘Have a seat,’ he said, indicating the sofa behind him. Dan sat down as instructed and Blackhawk took a chair in front of him.
‘You have troubled thoughts and you are not happy. Perhaps these two weeks will benefit you, but you will still have to face your problems once you leave and go back to your world. That cannot be solved here.’
‘You have indicated you are a teacher and your desire to teach is waning,’ Blackhawk continued. ‘While you are here, I ask you to visit our schools and talk to the students and teachers. Sit with a class and perhaps you might find some answers to your problems.’
‘I was hoping to get away from students and teaching for a while,’ Dan said sadly.
‘Running away from your problems will not solve them, Screaming Turtle,’ Blackhawk said, sounding very much like a chief. ‘Do as I ask.’
‘Yes sir,’ Dan replied, but he doubted he would learn anything from it.
‘Good,’ Blackhawk said, ‘I think you will benefit from it.’ He paused for a minute and thought about his plan for this unhappy teacher in front of him. Meneto works in mysterious ways, sometimes, Blackhawk thought to himself. Meneto is what the Shawnee call their God. He is also known as The Great Spirit. ‘I do not have room to let you stay with me,’ he continued, ‘but I have arranged a place for you at our guest lodge.’
‘Thank you,’ Dan said, ‘that would be fine.’
‘You are welcome. If you will drive, I will show you to the lodge,’ he said as Dan rose from the sofa.
They drove in silence for only about fifteen minutes before they reached the lodge. It was next door to the government center and across from one of the general stores. Dan, with bags in hand, followed Blackhawk into the small lodge. They were greeted at the front desk by a short, stout, middle aged women with silver sprinkled in with her black hair.
‘Blackhawk,’ she smiled, ‘it’s good to see you. Who is this fine looking youngster with you?’
‘This is Dan Rieger,’ he replied, gesturing to Dan. ‘He will be staying with us for a few weeks. Do you have his room ready?’
‘Of course we do. It’s all arranged,’ Mary said.
‘Good, good,’ Blackhawk nodded, ‘then I will leave him in your care.’ Blackhawk turned to leave.
‘Sir?’ Dan asked.
‘Yes,’ he said, turning back to him.
‘Don’t you want me to drive you back to your house?’
‘No, but thank you. My legs need to stretch and it is not that far of a walk. I will check on you from time to time to see how you are doing.’ To Mary, he said, ‘Take care of him.’
‘I will, Blackhawk,’ she replied, watching the elder leave the lodge.
‘That’s an awful long way for him to walk,’ Dan remarked once Blackhawk had disappeared.
‘He walks everywhere,’ Mary explained. ‘I will show you to your room now.’
‘Don’t I need to sign something or pay for the room?’ Dan asked, thinking that she had forgotten.
‘You can take of it when you leave,’ she replied noticing the perplexed look on his face. ‘Come along, now.’
Dan followed her to his room. It was a small lodge, perhaps having only a dozen rooms or so, but it was clean and appeared to kept in immaculate order. They arrived at room 8 and Mary let them in with a key. It was a fairly large room with 2 double beds, a television, dresser, desk, and a bathroom with a shower. It was very rustic and Dan was pleased.
‘We have dinner at six o’clock in the dining room, or if you prefer, there are other eateries nearby that I can direct you to,’ she said as she handed him the key. Dan checked his watch and it was almost five. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to freshen up from your long journey,’ she remarked as she left the room.
Dan didn’t really feel like cleaning up at that time, so he began to unpack and get used to being on the reservation.
As Mary said, Blackhawk walked everywhere except to work. It was too long and far for his old legs to carry him. Walking was a peaceful endeavor and it always cleared his mind. It gave him time to think about his people and his plans for their future. Blackhawk was a worrier and he always was looking ahead to make things easier for the people he loved. He had specific plans for his visitor, plans that he began formulating when he received his letter of inquiry. His children needed education and Dan was dissatisfied with his life, so perhaps an agreement could be reached. He just needed a little prodding. The schools were always in need of qualified teachers, teachers who were not driven by money, only driven because they wanted to mold young minds and receive satisfaction from that. Blackhawk knew he could never compete with a salary Dan enjoyed now, but what was the price of peace and happiness?
He had wished he had brought along his walking stick. It was comfortable in his hand when he walked and it helped ease his aching knees. Blackhawk pushed aside his pain and began to meditate as he walked. Soon, he was oblivious to everything around him, even the effort of putting one foot in front of the other. Blackhawk looked for signs in his mind. Sometimes, he could see bits and pieces of what was to be, brief glimpses of the future. However, on this early evening he saw nothing. That was not necessarily a bad thing, only disappointing. When he shook himself from his semi-trance, he realized that he had walked a small distance past his house. Smiling to himself, he turned around and started to walk back.
A brilliant sun woke Dan that Monday morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so fresh and alive. The cries and squeals of school children could be heard in the distance and he smiled at the thought. Dan got up and looked out his window in the direction of the noise. His watch read 7:48 and he figured the time would be short before their day would start. He showered and dressed quickly, eager to be out and amongst his people. He ate a meager breakfast of toast and very strong coffee before he began to stroll the dusty roads of the reservation.
Her students were busy studying when Wind In Her Hair looked up and scanned the hallway again for the stranger. Blackhawk had told her to expect him, that he had made arrangements for him to be directed to her classroom should he choose to visit. She wondered who this stranger was and what was he doing on the reservation. Blackhawk had only told her he was a teacher visiting and she should make him feel welcome. But, why would a teacher and a foreigner be allowed to stay? That was highly unusual. Her large, brown doe eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary and she went back to concentrating on her students.
Dan walked for about an hour before he decided to turn around and come back. The reservation was pretty much as he had expected, although he wished there were more people around. But, he knew they had jobs to do and he was on a vacation, so to speak. He could tell most of the inhabitants were very poor and they struggled to survive, just as Blackhawk had said. It saddened him to think that this once proud Nation was reduced to virtual poverty. He walked quickly through the streets, stopping occasionally to browse in a store. The shopkeepers eyed him warily, not trusting any stranger until they knew his business. He talked to some and it was plain to see that he was as uncomfortable as they until he mentioned Blackhawk’s name, and then they began to warm to him a bit.
Remembering Blackhawk’s request, Dan turned his attention to the schoolyard as children were running about chasing each other and playing other games. He excused himself from the store and ambled over to the entrance of the school. It was near noon, but most of the classrooms were filled. Dan saw an open office to his right and walked in.
‘May I help you?’ the secretary at the desk inquired. She was a large, plump lady, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, but had a pleasant smile
. She didn’t have that look about her that suggested she didn’t accept his presence, like many of the others had when he arrived, but then, she suspected he was the stranger about whom Blackhawk had spoken.
‘Yes ma’am,’ he answered, softly, politely. ‘Blackhawk asked that I stop by and observe some classes. I’m Dan Rieger,’ he added.
‘Oh yes, Mr. Rieger,’ she smiled, ‘Blackhawk did say that you might stop by.’ She got up stiffly, walked around her desk and took him by the hand. ‘Come along and I’ll show you around.’
Wind In Her Hair looked up as a noise from her students distracted her from her thoughts. It was a giggle or laugh, she couldn’t tell which, but one look from her silenced the class. She glanced to her left and two pairs of eyes were looking back at her at the doorway. The one belonged to Jacqui, the school’s secretary, but the other was from a tall, thin, foreigner. He could almost pass for a Native, but she could tell he was not full-blooded. He was very pleasant looking, nonetheless, as he continued to look at her.
‘Melanie,’ Jacqui said, ‘this is Dan Rieger. He would like to visit your classroom for a while if that is not an inconvenience to you.’ They glanced at her students who were rapt with attention upon the visitor.
‘That’s fine,’ Melanie said, her voice soft and feather-like to Dan’s ears. To her class, she said sharply, ‘Back to your studies.’ Their eyes fell once again to their books.
‘Do come in, Mr. Rieger,’ she said. Melanie got up and moved quickly to the other side of the room, found a chair and brought it to her desk. She was casually dressed in a yellow cotton blouse and blue jeans, and her waist-length hair was pulled back in a single braid. She was quite lovely, even to the casual observer, and she moved quickly and gracefully. As the secretary quietly left the doorway, Dan had yet to move. Melanie looked at him inquisitively and wondered why he was still standing there.
Dan saw her looking at him and he looked down quickly for a split second. He felt for sure that they had met previously and he couldn’t shake the overpowering feeling of deja vu that gripped him. Dan looked up again and she was still staring at him with a bit of bemused puzzlement etched upon her face. Sheepishly, he walked towards her, glancing at her students as he did. They appeared to be around 10 or 11 years old and there were approximately twenty children in the class. Although poorly dressed, they were neat and clean and appeared well mannered. They eyed him with curiosity as he now stood next to Wind In Her Hair, Melanie.
‘I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Rieger,’ she said low and soft. She extended her hand to him and he took it briefly before letting it go. They were almost even in height and Dan stared unashamedly into her eyes.
‘Have we met before?’ he asked. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen you, but I don’t know from where.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘unless it was at school. I’ve lived in Oklahoma on this reservation my entire life. Where did you go to school?’
‘The University of Cincinnati.’
‘I went to Oklahoma State.’
‘Oh.’ He now knew that it wasn’t so. He was deeply troubled by this revelation. Why was she so familiar to him?
‘Class,’ Melanie addressed her students, ‘this is Mr. Dan Rieger. He is a teacher from Ohio and he will be observing us today.’
‘Good morning, Mr. Rieger,’ they said almost in unison.
‘Good morning,’ he replied, looking at their dark, scrubbed faces and their eager eyes.
‘Please have a seat,’ she said, gesturing to the chair beside her desk. Once he was settled, she took her chair next to him. ‘The children just had their lunch and they will have a study time until twelve-thirty.’
She was wearing no perfume, but Dan could smell her clean, fresh scent as if she had just stepped out of a refreshing shower. He tried not to be too obvious as he inhaled deeply again.
‘What do you teach?’ she asked.
‘English and literature, although I’m able to muddle my way through math and science in a pinch if necessary.’
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