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Carol K. Rachlin

Seasons of Rita: Biography of a Sauk Woman

Institute for Tolerance Studies
Santa Fe, NM
www.tolerancestudies.org

Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved. This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may be done without the written permission of the Institute for Tolerance Studies (admin@tolerancestudies.org).

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication data: Rachlin, Carol K. 1919- Seasons of Rita: Biography of a Sauk Woman / by Carol Rachlin. ISBN 978-0-9825439-0-0 1. Women--Native American. 2. Fiction: biographical. 3. History: Native American. British Cataloguing-in-Publication data for this book is available from the British Library. Cover by Gloria Abella Ballen Contents

Part One
Chapters 1 – 5. 1888-1890
Part Two Chapters 6 – 8. 1895-1896
Part Three Chapter 9. 1899
Part Four Chapters 10 – 13. 1901-1902
Part Five Chapters 14 – 20. 1912-1914
Part Six Chapter 21. 1919
Part Seven Chapters 22 – 24. 1923-1924
Part Eight Chapters 25 – 28. 1941-1945

Part One Chapter 1 1888
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” -- The first Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians. Chapter 13; verse 11.

•The world changed after Aunt Tabitha died. When Rita was born Mother and Father had given her to Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Matthew. Now, for the first time, Rita belonged to Mother. The autumn morning’s sun burst suddenly upon Haskway Village. Rita felt its cool rays, and rolled over on her pallet to snuggle close to Aunt Tabitha. Her hand reached for her aunt. Suddenly she remembered, Aunt Tabitha was dead. Perhaps it was all a dream! She crawled from her pallet, and ran out of the round cattail house to find her aunt. The north wind swished among the dry leaves, its wailing tune mixing with the mourning dove’s call. “Aunt Tabitha, Aunt Tabitha,” Rita sobbed. She flung her arms around the big pecan tree that shaded the house in summer. Winter air rushed through her worn calico dress and pressed her tighter to the tree. She yearned for the warmth of Aunt Tabitha’s hand. Through her grieving Rita heard a voice calling her. She let strong arms lift her up and carry her back into the house. It was Uncle Matthew. By the warmth of the morning fire Mother gave her some beef broth. Rita felt better all over as the warm soup slipped down to her heart. “Look at her,” Mother exclaimed. “She’s so pitiful, the way she cries for Tabitha.”
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Father’s eyes spoke in sympathy as he motioned Rita to sit on his lap. “Hold your tears, Daughter. You must never cry where folks can see you. People who are really mournful cry alone out in the woods.” “I do love Aunt Tabitha. I want Aunt Tabitha. I heard her outside the house. She spoke to me through the wind. Uncle Matthew, help me find her,” Rita pleaded as she pushed away from Father and stood by the door. The grown-ups stared at the child in silence. Fear spread over their faces. “There’s no such thing as ghosts and spirits,” Mother scolded, “them white folks at Agency says so. Why does she miss Tabitha so much? We’ve always been one family, living together in the same house. I’ve always been near her.” “Rita was with my sister, Tabitha, all the time. They talked together and played together. Tabitha taught her about religion. She took Rita to Grand Medicine Society ceremonies, and brought her to all our feasts. You were busy taking care of Millie just the way you do now,” Father chided. “My mother gave me Millie before she died,” Mother snapped back. “Sister was just little then. Mother told me to look after my baby sister – to raise her just like my own child.” “Ah,” Father grunted, “Millie’s just twelve. She’s already trying to sneak off with young men. Nothing good will happen to her, if she keeps on this way. If you don’t look out, she’ll be having a baby.” “That’s the trouble with you men,” Mother shrieked back at him. “You’re all the same! You want to get every woman you can. Then you talk bad about them. Well, none of these lazy Sauk men are gonna get Millie. After she’s through here at Agency school the government is going to send her to Chilocco. She’ll learn white man’s ways and she’ll marry a rich man who can give her things. She won’t have to live this backward way, like we do.” Rita sat listening. Fear swept through her body at the sound of her parents’ angry words. She didn’t always like Millie but she didn’t want her to go away, or anything bad to happen to her. At last the pressure of emotion pushed a flood of tears from Rita’s eyes. “Look at my poor child,” Father admonished. “She’s pitiful. Something must be done for her now, or Tabitha’s spirit will catch her and take her away. She’ll die.” “I’ll take her with me out in the woods to mourn, Brother-in-Law,” Uncle Matthew declared. “Children don’t often do that, but it’s the only way to keep
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Tabitha’s spirit from taking Rita. Rub ashes on her face, Sister. Put on her old clothes. She’ll cry and fast a little. After four days she’ll be safe from Tabitha’s spirit; she’ll be happy again.” Mother and Father nodded in agreement. Uncle Matthew turned to Rita. “My niece, listen to me. You’re sad for your aunt. She took care of you. She loved you. You can mourn for her with me. In the spring when the flowers bloom and the trees turn green, her relatives will adopt another woman to take her place in their family. Then Aunt Tabitha’s spirit can leave the earth and travel to the Land of the Dead. She’ll be happy there. She’ll watch over you. You’ll be here, in the Land of the Living. You have your mother and father. You, too, will be happy again. Come with me, my child. I’ll teach you. I’ll show you.” “Rita,” Mother ordered. “Put on that old green dress and those government shoes. Take a blanket. It’ll be cold out in the woods. Help her, Millie!” Obediently, Rita climbed into her clothes without saying a word. For the last two weeks, since Aunt Tabitha’s funeral, everything was different than any life she had ever known. As Millie roughly pulled the straight calico dress down over Rita’s body she complained: “She can’t do anything – she’s so pitiful. I sure hope she’ll make it. I hope she’ll get better. I’d miss her.” Father stood by, holding a burnt piece of wood. “Here, Daughter. When you mourn for your aunt, you must blacken your face to protect you from her spirit. Your uncle will do the same. She how pitiful he is, with his old clothes and his hair uncombed and his face smeared with charcoal.” Uncle Matthew watched; when all was ready he motioned Rita to come with him. Silently the tall man and the child moved down the village path, past the swimming hole, through the north pasture, and out across the rolling plain toward Euchee Creek. The cold wind blew over them and forced Rita to pull her blanket tight around her body. The winter light forced her to look downward, while her eyes ached from pushing upward to see where they were going. She thought they walked for a long time. Her feet hurt and her stomach felt empty. Uncle Matthew never spoke; he moved straight ahead without looking at her. At last, on the second terrace of Euchee Creek, he stopped at the edge of a small grove of cedar and post oak trees. He motioned for Rita to wait while he went to gather some sticks to build a little fire. Next Uncle Matthew pulled a fallen log over for a seat. He drew his blanket around him and gestured for Rita to sit beside him.
10 Rita
She felt strange; she wasn’t quite sure how she felt, except that she never felt like this before. She looked into her uncle’s face, hoping to find an answer to the strangeness. She saw dark eyes blend with the black smudges along his cheek bones to form deep pits in his head. His gray bangs lay mussed across his forehead, and the long braid hung carelessly down his back. Rita knew she never saw anyone more pitiful. The strong man sobbed. Tears burst from his eyes. Rita climbed onto his lap, threw her arms around her uncle, and pressed her face against his. They sat together and cried for a long while. At last Uncle Matthew stopped crying. He put the child on the log beside him and began to speak. “You came with me, my child, to mourn for your aunt. We’ve sat here in the woods, where no one comes. It is clean here. Nobody has cursed this place. We’ve sat together and cried. That is good. We’ve relieved our sadness. I’m not going to eat, but you must have some bread because you are so young. It’s long past noon. You’ll get too hungry, and then you’ll be sick. That’s all the food you can have till evening. In that way you’ll fast for your aunt.” Rita watched her uncle take the cold fry bread from under a fold in his blanket. When he handed it to her she ate it. The man sat quietly, and looked at the child. Then he began to sing: Where am I going? You go following the road, death road. You don’t go anywhere but to death; Even if you go hide between the earth and heaven You can’t run away from death. Rita got back into Uncle Matthew’s lap and listened to the many verses. The music seemed to creep inside her, like Mother’s broth, and warm her heart. She felt peaceful; her eyes grew heavy. Finally sleep pushed them closed. Rita awoke slowly; she didn’t know how long she slept. Uncle Matthew had stopped singing, and the sun had slid far into the west. She knew it must be late. “Come, Rita. We must go. Tomorrow you can come with me again. You can come with me four times. Perhaps on the fourth day God will speak to you in a dream. If you have a dream you must tell me, but don’t tell anyone else.”
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Rita nodded sleepily, slid from his lap, and took his hand for the long walk home. Inside the house Mother was frying bread. Father sat on his pallet polishing his high leather boots. Aunt Millie was standing around, pretending that she was busy, instead of turning the pieces of bread to fry for Mother. Uncle Matthew pushed back the cattail mat door and stood looking at the family. The yellow light from the coal oil lantern hurt Rita’s eyes. Mother looked up and saw them. She smiled. “Come in, come in. You’re both tired. You must eat something. Rita, wash your face and hands. Take off those heavy shoes and put on your everyday moccasins with the patches.” Mother laid supper on the reed mat on the floor near the cooking fire. The family sat together on the ground to eat their meal. Rita wasn’t hungry any more, but she ate a little of the corn and beef soup to keep her parents from nagging at her. “Rita was a big girl today. We sat and prayed together. She’ll learn a great deal about our religion. I’ll teach her while I’m alive. Then you, my Sister, must look after her. “I’ll teach her,” Mother answered. “Now, you’d both better lie down on your pallets and get some rest.” Rita was much too tired to talk. The house was full of familiar people and noises, yet it seemed strange and empty to her. She felt very small as she tried to figure out what was wrong. People looked big, the light was too bright. She reached under the quilt for her rag doll, the one Aunt Tabitha had made for her, and pressed it close to her heart. She began to feel warm and happy the way she did when she used to snuggle up to Aunt Tabitha. Maybe Aunt Tabitha’s spirit was pleased that she fasted. Maybe it wouldn’t take her away. She wanted to stay here with Uncle Matthew. Rita silently made a little prayer. She asked God to speak plainly to her, the way Uncle Matthew always spoke, so she could understand Him. In a little while Father turned down the lantern. Everyone stopped talking. Uncle Matthew began to sing a prayer song. I’m always looking at God God is in the flowers, the trees, The insects, the animals. All life that breathes is holy. God is life.
12 Rita
He sang softly, giving his words to the family instead of throwing them to the wind, as he had done in the woods. Rita let her thoughts catch hold of the music, which carried her off to sleep. The next morning and the morning after that Rita went with Uncle Matthew to the woods. They fasted and prayed. Her body grew very tired. Her mind filled with thoughts created by Uncle Matthew’s songs and prayers. On the fourth morning Rita went with Uncle Matthew for the last time. This morning she was weary, too weary to cry anymore. Uncle Matthew made the fire as usual. He and Rita sat side by side on the log, to pray and sing. She rested her head against his arm and fell asleep, listening to Uncle Matthew’s voice become one with the world around. Rita’s eyes jumped open. She felt Uncle Matthew gently shaking her. “My child, you have been dreaming; you are crying. You called to me from your dream. Here, wipe your face with this cloth, and tell me what you saw.” Rita’s little hand shook as she rubbed the tears from her eyes. She was cold all over, and she looked toward Uncle Matthew for warmth. Her uncle lifted Rita to his lap, and covered them both with his blanket. “Tell me what you dreamed. Don’t be afraid. It’s good to dream. God loves you when he talks to you in your dreams.” Obediently, she began. Her words staggered. She forced herself to be brave and continue. “I was coming back to Haskway Village; I’d been gone a long, long time. I don’t know how it was, but I was different. I was grown up. I went into the Village and it was all quiet. I didn’t hear anybody. There were no dogs. I went to our house. They had all left. There wasn’t any fire. I went from one house to another, calling people. The fires were out. The people were gone. “Uncle Matthew, I’m scared. I don’t want everyone to go off and leave me. I don’t want to go away. What does God mean?” Uncle Matthew sat and stared off to the west. When he spoke, his words sounded to Rita like puffs of smoke, coming from Aunt Tabitha’s cooking kettle. “You’ve dreamed well, my niece. You had a good dream. I’ll tell you what this dream means. It means that God wants you to live to be an old lady. That’s good. That’s a blessing from God. My child, I don’t want you to tell this dream to anybody. Don’t even tell it to your mother. When you grow up and learn
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more, you’ll understand much more about your dream. Remember, you don’t tell anybody. If you tell, something bad will happen to you.” “Does my dream mean I’ll go away and live with white people?” “I expect that by the time you are an old woman all the Indians will be living like white folks. Some of our head men are marrying white women already. If you get educated in government school you might marry a white man.” “I’d be scared. I don’t know white folks. God did say I’d come back to the Indians, didn’t he? How will I know what to do without you?” “I’ll send someone to tell you, when the time comes. Now you don’t have to mourn any more. You don’t have to fast any more for your aunt. God won’t let her spirit take you away. You’re safe. You must be happy. You must grow and learn. Some day, when you are a woman, maybe you’ll dream again. That dream will tell you the right road to follow for the rest of your life. It will be a good road. It may be the same road your aunt followed in the Grand Medicine Society. Think of these things I have told you, often, my child. Come, the sun is growing weak. We must go.” Uncle Matthew gave the fire a little tobacco in thanks for the warmth they had shared, and then carefully covered the flame with earth. Rita watched him shyly; when he had finished she took his hand. The tall man, with the child, moved homeward. Rita, once more, felt happy all over.

14 Rita


Chapter 2 1889
All winter Rita had looked forward to spring. She grew tired playing with her squirrel doll, and of staying indoors with Mother. There always seemed to be so much work to do in the house. The floor had to be swept every morning with the turkey-wing broom. The reed mats and the blankets the family used on their pallets had to be aired. And worst of all, Mother insisted on her carrying out the fire ashes with the big metal shovel the blacksmith had made. It was so heavy Rita could hardly lift it. She thought Mother was very fussy. There were two things Rita liked about winter. Winter was story-telling time. The snakes were asleep then, and couldn’t hear, so nothing could happen when the stories were spoken out loud. Every evening after Father turned down the lantern Uncle Matthew would tell a story. Some made Rita laugh and others were sad and made her cry. She also liked the time when the whole family went out on the winter hunt. Mother put new cattail mats and brass cooking pots in the big farm wagon and they went off southeast to the Creek Indian Country to build a new temporary house. Each clear day Uncle Matthew and Father would go out hunting and bring back deer, raccoon, squirrel or wild turkey. They had fresh meat all the time. Rita thought it tasted good, and wished she never had to eat the salt pork Mother brought from the trader. As soon as the robin began to sing his spring song, Father would stop hunting and the family would return to Haskway Village. New life came to the earth; the animals mated and the trees and the flowers grew again. Rita loved spring, especially planting time. As long as she could remember she thrilled at hearing Aunt Tabitha tell how Grandmother Earth gave the little seeds power to grow into corn, beans, and squash for the people to eat. She felt excited when she placed four little seeds in the hillock which was to be their home. One to the east, one to the south, one to the west, one to the north – one for the outworm, one for the crow, one to rot, and one to grow. This year would be different! Mother wouldn’t explain how the seeds grew. Mother was always in a hurry to get the planting finished so she continue working on her new clothes for the summer religious ceremonies and social gatherings.
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White clouds drifted across the soft blue sky, casting gray shadows on the freshly furrowed field, while Rita sat on the wagon, in the shade, waiting for Mother to hall her. No sense getting out in the field before she had to. Lots of kinfolks had gathered to help, and maybe Mother would forget about her. Then Rita could sit quietly and play house with her doll; she would be like Aunt Tabitha and explain to the doll how seeds grew. “Rita,” Mother’s voice drifted across the field. “Get down. Come here. Help me.” Rita jumped over the furrows to Mother’s side, and stood looking at the ground. “Stay here. Uncle Matthew is going to say the prayer, and then we’ll begin planting. We have a lot to do. I want you to put the seeds in the holes I dig.” There was no time to answer Mother, as Uncle Matthew began: “God, the Great Spirit, we thank you for giving us Mother Earth, Our Grandmother. It is from Mother Earth we get our life. All the food we eat comes from her body. Our aunts and uncles, the trees, come from her body. They help us with our lives. Now we are planting these seeds which our Grandmother Earth has given us. We pray to you and to our Grandmother that the plants grow big, so their fruits will feed the people. It is from our Grandmother, the Mother Earth, we get strong bodies. Watch over us, Great Spirit. Help us to have food, our Grandmother.” Uncle Matthew dug a little hole in the ground and dropped in a pinch of Indian tobacco. “We honor you, Great God; we give you some tobacco. We honor you, Mother Earth, our Grandmother. We give you some tobacco.” “Come, Rita, we can start to plant now,” Mother directed. “You and Aunt Millie can help me. You take the beans, and Aunt Millie will plant the corn. Here, let me tie this apron around your waist. The seeds are in the pockets. I’ll dig a little hole, and when I tell you, put three seeds in every other hole and cover them up. Aunt Millie will start first with the corn, and you plant the second hole with the beans.” “I want to put four seeds in each hole like Aunt Tabitha had me do. Won’t you tell me how Grandmother Earth puts power in these seeds? Aunt Tabitha used to tell me. Please!” “No! I don’t need to tell you about the seeds. Your Aunt Tabitha always wasted time. I want to finish planting and get back to work on my ribbon appli
16 Rita
qué skirt. Do as I tell you. Three seeds in every other hole. That’s enough. Your aunt did everything in the old-fashioned way. This way will save seeds.” “She always wants to do everything like Tabitha. I don’t know why she won’t do things like other folks,” Aunt Millie exclaimed. “Millie, don’t you start fighting with Rita. Pay attention to your own planting. Stop staring at all the men. Tend to your work,” Mother put in before Rita could answer. Without another word Mother started digging small holes in the hillocks. Millie pushed Rita aside and dropped three grains of corn into the first hole and kicked some dirt over them. Rita moved on to the second hole Mother had dug. She carefully placed three seeds in the ground and started to drop a little piece of earth on them. Then she stopped. She looked toward the sky. Rita felt strange. She glanced along the row, and saw that Mother and Aunt Millie were not watching her. Quickly she slipped the fourth seed into the ground to please Aunt Tabitha, and covered all four. Slowly Rita moved down the long row behind Mother, always slipping in a fourth seed. She remembered the mysterious power Aunt Tabitha said God gave the seeds, and felt the excitement of new life to come. The morning wore on. The sun rose to the top of the sky. Rita was hungry. At the end of the second row, Mother stopped and called to the girls to come and eat. The men had already gathered in the shade of a grove of post oak and blackjack trees, near where the wagon was parked. Some of the women were serving them when Mother, Aunt Millie, and Rita arrived. Rita wanted to be alone; she wanted to watch the birds or see if she could find some baby rabbits. Mother handed her a piece of cold fry bread and a chicken wing, which she munched as she slipped around the grownups into the edge of the woods. Presently Mother called her back to work. After lunch, the planting went on as it had done in the morning. The men went down in a row, putting in the bean poles. The women followed, digging holes and planting seeds. They called to each other as they worked. Sometimes one of the women would start to sing and the others would join in. Rita listened to them, but as the day passed their voices became noise. She looked around to find other things to amuse her. First, she tried counting the clouds. This wasn’t a very good idea, because she couldn’t look up and continue to plant. If she were too slow, Aunt Millie would see her putting four seeds in the hole instead of three, and tell Mother.
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Next, Rita tried jumping over Aunt Millie’s seeds, but Aunt Millie saw her and told Mother. Then Rita pretended the bean poles were people. She talked with them. Again Aunt Millie tattled on her. Late in the afternoon Uncle Matthew spoke to Mother and the other grownups. They agreed it was time to stop. The men gathered up their shovels and the women the twined reed sacks which contained the seeds. The people stepped carefully over the newly-planted ground to the wagons. Rita stayed with Uncle Matthew. He set her up on the wagon seat, between him and Father. The sun was already half covered by the land in the west as Father started the horses towards home. Uncle Matthew put his arm around Rita and commenced to sing softly to her. God loves his people God wants his people to be well and bright God listens to his people God helps his people.

18 Rita

Chapter 3 1889
When the corn reached a little above the ground, Aunt Tabitha’s kinfolk had her adoption ceremony. Now, Aunt Tabitha’s spirit was safe in the Land of the Dead. Uncle Matthew could stop mourning. As the days passed, the beans, and the new potatoes, and the berries ripened. The people held their First Fruits Ceremony. Uncle Matthew took Rita into the Grand Medicine Society lodge to eat the fresh food from the wooden bowls, and in that way receive a blessing. The people, like the earth, were alive again with the new season. The corn grew high, and the people moved from Haskway Village to the Agency south of Stroud. All the Sauk people living around Shawneetown, Prague, and Cushing came to Agency for the summer payment. Everyone received his money, which the government disbursed from treaty funds. Everyone was happy. There was visiting, eating, dancing, and gambling. Rita wished she didn’t have to stay with Mother all the time while they were at Agency, but then, they did go down to Mr. Whistler’s trading store every day. Rita liked going to Mr. Whistler’s place. There were many beautiful things to see: lots and lots of pretty calico, bright-colored ribbons, rolls of soft blue breadcloth, stacks of gaily colored blankets, and cabinets of rainbow-colored threads. And there were so many new things to eat: arrowroot cookies, hard tack in barrels, big yellow wheels of cheese, other barrels of brine pickles, horehound candy, penny sticks of peppermint candy, and that round fruit which Mother sometimes bought her, which tasted so good and sweet. Rita got up from her pallet. She had been playing with her doll, and now she walked out of the tent to look for Mother. She wandered around to the shade of the summer arbor, and saw that Mother was playing squaw dice with some other women, so she strolled back into the cool of the tent to her doll. The fruit, the fruit, that’s all she could think about. She played going to the trader’s store and buying the round fruit with the sweet juice that tasted so
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good. She sat and imagined eating its sweet meat, as her eyes followed the sun rays which sneaked into the tent. They moved upward to the back tent pole and to Mother’s black pocketbook. Rita had an idea! First, she carefully put her doll away under the patchwork quilt. She didn’t want the doll to see her. Next she dragged over the big rawhide trunk in which Mother kept their good clothes. Rita pulled herself to the arched top of the trunk, and on tip tip toes she reached up and knocked Mother’s leather purse down from the hook where it hung. She took some change from the knotted cloth inside the purse, and darted out of the tent. She raced towards the trading store, through the tall Johnson grass of the east field. All the way Rita could feel the hard money making her hand hotter and hotter. Excitement forced her to move faster. The thought of what she had done made her look straight ahead, never glancing backward in case Mother might see her. There were only a few people at Mr. Whistler’s store when Rita came panting to a stop. She remembered that it was just a little while since dinner. Most folks would still be resting, and waiting for the afternoon to cool off. Rita let the door swing into the store ahead of her, in order to look around and see if she knew anyone who was inside. She saw no one she knew, except the man who helped Mr. Whistler with the extra trade during payment time. Rita marched straight to the fruit. “I want that.” She pointed with her perked lips. “I want as many as you’ll give me. Here.” She handed the man her shiny money. The clerk tried to speak to Rita while he placed the fruit in a paper sack, but she couldn’t answer him. The fruit was her world. She grabbed the sack from his hand and ran back toward Mother’s camp. She stopped just before she reached the cleared camp circle, and crawled into the tall grass. Here she would be safe. Nobody would see her. She could eat all the fruit, by herself. Rita pulled the round fruit out of the sack into her lap. She grabbed one and drove her teeth through its thick skin. Sour juice rolled down her throat and face. She began to cough. The bitter taste made her feel sick. She spit it all over her clean calico dress. Suddenly a firm hand clasped Rita’s shoulder and yanked her to her feet. Mother’s voice crashed against her. “You’re a bad thing. Bad child!” Mother screamed, as she hit Rita’s bare legs with the stick she used to turn the hot fry bread. “I’m glad you got that
20 Rita
lemon instead of the orange you went after. It serves you right. When you touch things that don’t belong to you, God sees to it that you get punished.” Rita sobbed and tried to tell Mother she was sorry. Mother dragged her back to the tent, letting her jumbled tear-drenched words fall to the ground. Rita tore herself lose from Mother and ran to the safety of her pallet, where she fell asleep. Rita felt that she had slept a long while. Her whole body was stiff and her throat was dry. As she awakened she remembered the sour fruit. Rita started to cry all over again, because she was afraid Mother would give her to Owl. She didn’t want Mother to come into the tent. “Look at me, Rita. Stop crying. I’m your Mother. I love you. That’s why I whipped you.” Rita looked deep down into Mother’s face. “Come here, and sit on my lap. I want to talk to you, and I want you to listen.” Mother held Rita tight against her breast and spoke gently. “I saw you take that money. I came into the tent just as you were lifting the change from the purse. I waited until you went to the store and came bake. I’m not going to scold you any more, but I want you to remember what I’m going to say. “There are two spirits that talk to people. One is good and the other is bad. You listened to the bad spirit. If you do that, bad things will happen to you. Always listen to the good spirit, who is God; who is truth, who is right. Sometimes the bad spirit will try to get you to do wrong by promising you beautiful things, like that fruit. You mustn’t take what it tempts you with, even if you have nothing else. Always listen to the Good Spirit. “Promise me something? Whenever you see things that folks have around their houses remember, they have those things ‘cause they want them. You must never touch anything that belongs to other folks, no matter how much you need or want it. “I want to tell you one thing more. You can’t ever trust white folk. They’ll trick an Indian into doing anything to get money or get something for themselves. Just like that clerk did to you. He knew those lemons were sour. He should have sold you oranges; you’re just a little kid who didn’t know the difference. White people don’t understand the Indians. White folks are bad like Owl. I like their easy life and the way they get all that money, but you gotta look out for them. Promise?”
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“I promise. I promise. I don’t want Owl to take me away. I want to stay here with you. I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be careful of white folks.” “Owl won’t take you this time, but if you do something bad again he will. Come here, let me wash your eyes. They’re all red. Stop crying.” Mother poured some fresh water from the drinking bucket into a bowl and placed a cool wet cloth over Rita’s eyes. She washed Rita’s face. Rita knew Mother must love her, to want to keep her from Owl.

22 Carol Rita

Chapter 4 1889
Rita had helped Mother with the work every day since they returned to Haskway Village from Agency. First there was corn to dry. Then there were beans and squash. Next they made new cattail mats to cover the traveling house they would use when they went to Creek Indian Country again on their winter hunt. Last of all, when the weather grew cold, Father killed some hogs and a steer. Mother smoked the hams and sides, and made cracklins out of the fat skin. There were a lot of cracklins. Rita could go take some, anytime she got hungry. It had been fun to barbeque and dry the beef, too. Rita got to eat several pieces of the thin juicy strips as they came off the fire, before Mother dried the meat. Beef sure was good like that. It was late in the fall; so late, in fact, that the red bird had stopped singing. Rita and Mother sat on the floor of the cattail house, close to the fire. Rita thought about winter hunting trip they were going to take into the Creek Country. Then the house mats would be rolled up and loaded into the wagon, so Mother could build overnight shelters wherever they stopped. Mother was showing her how to make clothes for her new squirrel doll. She watched Mother choose a pretty piece of red calico and fold it into a straight one-pieced dress like Rita’s. Rita remembered the cloth; it was left-over from one of Aunt Millie’s dresses. She guessed Aunt Millie wouldn’t care if Mother used it. Anyway, Aunt Millie was away in school at Agency. “Rita, go get me that box of buttons, over there by the skin trunk. I’m going to make some eyes for your doll.” Rita scrambled across the dirt floor after the buttons. Now with Aunt Millie gone she could spend all the time with Mother. It was fun! “What are you going to do for hair on her head?” “We can make that later, out of some wool I have left over from the sash I made Uncle Matthew. First I want to fix the eyes. Here are some pretty black buttons, they’re just small enough.”
Rita 23
Rita watched Mother sew the doll’s eyes in place. She felt strange. There was no one else in the house. Father and Uncle Matthew had gone to Shawneetown. Yet still she felt as if somebody was there. She looked up, and saw a man standing in the doorway, holding a rifle. He spoke to Mother. “I’ve come after the kid. I’m taking her to Agency, to school.” Without replying to the man’s words, Mother dropped the doll and leaped to her feet. She sprang at him, still without speaking. She hit the man in his middle with her fist; she hit him so hard he bent clear over. Mother tried to push past him to get the axe outside the door. The man caught hold of her. Rita was scared. She lay down flat on the ground behind the rawhide trunk, the way Aunt Tabitha had told her to do, if anyone came looking for her to take her away to school. “Hold on, Mrs. Borden! I’m the police, the Indian police. I come after that girl of yours. It’s time to take her to school.” Rita held her breath real tight. She was more scared than ever. Aunt Tabitha said that at the Agency school children learn to do things white people did. You turned out bad if you went to school. All the same, Rita wanted to go, ‘cause Mother had let Aunt Millie go. Mother said school was good. You learned how to make a lot of money, like white folks. Rita pushed herself up from the ground on her hands, raising her head just far enough to see Mother and the man. She caught Mother’s first angry words. “Rita’s too little to go to school. She’s just eight. You go catch some of these big kids running around all over the village. Maybe those white folks could teach them to behave.” “I better take your girl, too. The Agent says all kids over five should go. I gotta take her. Rita didn’t pay any attention to Mother’s answer; she was thinking about slipping out and hiding in the hole Aunt Tabitha dug for her to stay in, so the Indian Police wouldn’t catch her. Suddenly Rita remembered that Mother had filled in the hole. Mother always said Aunt Tabitha had funny old-fashioned Indian ways, like not wanting the children to go to school and being afraid of the white man’s medicine. Father said it made you well quicker than Indian medicine.
24 Rita
Rita heard the man say, “I’ll be back for her before dinner. You have her ready to go then. It’s easier if you have time to get her ready.” Rita’s heart gave a bump. Mother was going to let her go to school. Mother must love her as much as she loved Aunt Millie! It was only about halfway to dinner time, but Rita was ready. Mother had bathed her, and put on her brand new green calico dress. Her government shoes felt heavy, but they shone brightly. Mother had rubbed them with Father’s boot polish. Mother finished the dress for the new squirrel doll and wrapped it up with the old rag doll in a neat little bundle to wait for Rita until she came home. Then they sat quietly, waiting. Mother heard the wagon drive up to the clearing in front of the house. She motioned to Rita to come with her. They walked together, Rita holding Mother’s warm hand, to the wagon. Rita saw a lot of children staring at her from the wagon, but she didn’t know any of them. “She’ll be all right. I got food so I can give these kids a noon dinner. We’ll be to school at the Agency for supper. I’m sure glad I caught you folks before you went out on our winter hunt. This way, I won’t have to bother looking after these kids in an overnight camp.” The policeman lifted Rita into the wagon. She left Mother standing alone. There seemed nothing to do for Rita but wave her hand to Mother as the wagon jounced down the trail. Rita watched Mother as long as she could; that is, until the big pecan tree moved into Mother’s place. Rita wondered if she would grow, over the winter, to be as big as Mother. She came up to Mother’s shoulder now, and she hoped to grow tall like Aunt Tabitha. Then Rita turned her eyes and her thoughts to the children in the wagon. They were all boys and no girls, except Rita. The boys all seemed older than she, and they all looked scared. Nobody said a word. Silently they moved along, every turn of the wagon wheels taking them further away from home and Haskway village. Rita stopped being scared, and began to feel happy. She was going to be a school girl! It was late when they stopped for their noon dinner. The autumn sun had already moved far into the south. Rita was real hungry. The policeman built his cooking fire at the side of the road, in a nice clear sunny place. Rita knew that Rita 25 they were not far away from Agency. She knew that they were south of the town of Stroud where the Deep Fork River starts to make the big bend. She had come this way many times to go fishing with Aunt Tabitha. The children stood around and watched the policeman cook the dinner. The boys talked to each other, but no one spoke to Rita. She began to feel lonely. At last the policeman handed her a small bowl of meat and a piece of white man’s bread. She took them to the back of the wagon, and there ate all by herself. When Rita had eaten all she wanted, there were still some pieces of fat left in her bowl. She looked at them. They didn’t smell like fat from Mother’s meat. They smelled the way the Agency girls smelt. Rita took a piece of fat and rubbed it all over her face and arms; just in time she stopped herself from smearing it on her dress. “Mother wouldn’t like that!” she thought. Now who smelled like a school girl. She hoped the boys would talk to her. After the meal the policeman put out the fire. He called the children and everyone climbed back into the wagon. This time Rita sat next to a stocky boy with brown wavy hair. She noticed that his face was streaked with dirt as if he had been crying. She remembered that he had eaten his dinner away from the others, off to the side, by himself as she had. Rita felt sorry for the boy. The other boys didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with him. “Were you scared when they came to get you?” Rita inquired. The boy looked at her, and swallowed hard. “No I wasn’t. I’m not scared of nothin’. Besides, my Pa lives at the Agency. He’s a white man. Now I can see him. But my Grandma, she was scared. She raised me. My Ma’s dead and my Pa gave me to Grandma. She’s old. She needs me, and she’ll miss me. We done everything together. We went fishing, we cut wood, and we dug them water lilly roots. I’d do everything with her. Grandma cried when I left. I didn’t want to go so I run away, but that policeman chased me. He sure can run fast. I kicked at him, but he got a hold of me. I just couldn’t get away. I’m not scared, just mad. You scared?” “No. My Aunt Millie, she’s up here at Agency School. I’m not scared, but I guess Mother will miss me too. That is, she missed Aunt Millie, so I guess she’ll miss me.” “They say you learn to talk different at Agency School. You talk white man’s language. You live and eat like a white man. That food we ate for dinner, smelled funny. I can still smell it. It didn’t taste good like Grandma’s. I don’t like that smell.” 26 Carol Rita Rita rubbed her hands down her arms to try to push the smell away from her body. “My name’s Angus, Angus McFarland. What’s yours?” “Ah, mine? It’s Rita Borden. That is, it’s Rita Mason Borden. See, I belonged to Aunt Tabitha Mason, before she died, but now I belong to Mother. That’s how come I got to go to Agency School.” “Here we are,” the policeman’s call interrupted her. He turned the horses up the red clay road to the Agency School. Rita looked at the long straight brick building. It seemed cold, not warm like the small round cattail house. For the first time since she left Haskway Village, Rita felt really scared. She knew Aunt Tabitha wouldn’t have let her go. Now that she belonged to Mother, she was a school girl.
Rita 27 Chapter 5 1890 The vista of another life opened to Rita during her first four months at school. She obediently learned to speak English all the time. The children had been told to forget their own language. Only when Matron couldn’t hear did Rita “talk Indian.” The children weren’t even supposed to pray “in Indian”. They were made to pray in the white man’s way and language. Rita tried very hard to pray like her white teacher, but the words of the new prayers had no meaning for her. She sat in the white man’s church, and silently recited the Indian prayers Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Matthew had taught her. The religious music was pretty, though: she enjoyed listening to it. She even learned one of the songs. When the teacher explained the meaning of the words, she liked them too. Often Rita skipped through the school corridors singing, “The King of Love My Shepherd Is.” She liked living at school, but the white folks did things very differently from Mother. Here, she sat on a straight chair and ate her meals from the table, with a fork and a spoon. The matron never let her eat anything with her hands except bread and fruit. Sometimes Rita wished to be home with Mother, sitting on the dirt floor by the fire, eating from her little enamel bowl with her spoon, or picking out scraps of meat with her fingers. Rita went to classes, where she learned to read and write English. She thought it was fun to draw the lines that became words. She wanted to teach Uncle Matthew about the lines so he could read the stories in her lesson book out loud during the summer. The snakes wouldn’t want to take the white man’s stories the way they did Indian stories. Nothing bad would happen to Uncle Matthew. In the afternoons Rita helped in the sewing room. She enjoyed this best of all, except when she saw Aunt Millie, who came in almost every day to help the seamstress. Rita stayed away from Aunt Millie and the other older girls as much as she could. She liked to play alone; she had played by herself at home. Now she began collecting beads, and she never wanted to play with the other children. If they knew she was hunting for beads, they would tell Aunt Millie on her. 28 Carol Rita The late afternoon sun partly covered Rita as she searched the ground around the big pecan tree for more of the colored beads that the older girls had dropped. She knew she had to find many more if she wanted to complete her belt before she went home, in a few weeks, for summer vacation. Rita wished, real hard, that one of the older girls would overturn a whole box full of beads. Then there would be lots and lots on the ground for her. Rita stopped for a minute and looked into her little box at the beads she had already collected. It had taken most of the winter to get this many. Every day she had gone around where the older girls sat doing beadwork. Each time she found a few more beads. She had almost enough to start the belt. Rita stared hard at the ground for another bead. They were hard to see when the red dust covered them over. She knew she would have to hurry and stop looking under the bench, before the big girls came back from the trader’s store and saw her. Rita was afraid they would think she didn’t have anyone to look after her and to buy her beads. The girls might decide her mother was poor. Rita knew better – why, Mother owned four shawls. “My child, what are you doing down there on the ground?” It was Uncle Matthew’s voice. She scrambled to her feet, and threw her arms around him. “I’m glad you come. It’s been a long time since you visited me.” Uncle Matthew sat down on the wooden bench, and motioned Rita to sit by him, as they sat in the woods a long time ago. “I haven’t felt well. I come down to see the Government Doctor. I tried Indian medicine, but it didn’t seem to work. Your Mother thought I better come get white man’s medicine. Sometimes that works better. The Doctor gave me something in a bottle. I’m going to take it all up. Then he said to come back. I guess I’m getting old, my niece.” Rita looked at her uncle. For the first time, she realized that he was really an old man. She felt sorry for Uncle Matthew. He looked lonely and tired. Rita swallowed hard, and pushed a little closer to his side. “You didn’t tell me what you were doing down there on the ground,” Uncle Matthew asked again. “I get my beads this way. You see, those big girls, like Aunt Millie, they make beaded belts and things. Then the matron takes what they make and sells it. The girls get some money that way, and I wanted some money, too.” Rita 29 “I want to get some cloth for a new dress, because I don’t like to wear this dark woolen dress when I’m home. It makes me scratch. I want a bright soft calico dress. I wanted to bring you and Mother a present, too.” “Oh, I see. You haven’t any money. What happened? Your Mother left you some when she was here. You could have bought beads with it.” “I got some candy with a little, and I got a few oranges for Angus McFarland and me. Angus likes oranges as much as I do. Then Aunt Millie come and took the rest, before I had a chance to buy beads. She made me give her the money right there in the store. She said Mother told her that part of it was hers. I don’t see why I have to divide my money with Aunt Millie! She said she’d beat me if I didn’t. We fought over it, but I couldn’t really hit her there in the store, not with all them folks around.” “You were a good girl.” Uncle Matthew observed. He studied her. “You’ve grown, but you are still plump like your Mother. How do you like it here at Agency school? I guess they teach you a lot.” “It’s real nice most of the time. Sometimes I miss being home and getting outdoors. Most of the kids here are all right. Some of them big girls get into fights and hit each other, but I don’t hit anybody. We work. We gotta make beds, you know, put cotton sheets and quilts on them. Then we sleep between the sheets. They’re real nice and soft. I’ll fix your pallet like that when I come home. I don’t understand the way they pray. That’s real hard!” Now she had started and didn’t try to check the words that poured out. The old man sat and listened. He never took his eyes away from her chubby face. “Every Sunday morning we go to church to pray. A man gets up and talks about Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ was a man who lived off somewhere, a long long time ago. Some people loved him, but some people were scared of him. I guess maybe they thought he was a witch. Jesus Christ, He loved all His people, He was kinda their chief. He had a lot of power. He fasted for His power. He suffered too. Those people that were scared of Him, they killed Him. They nailed Him to a cross and He stayed there till He died. The people that loved Him, they mourned for Him, kinda like we did for Aunt Tabitha. Jesus Christ, He went to the Land of the Dead where He is chief. He is kinda the white man’s God, and somehow He is with those folks who stay here. I don’t understand it. It’s deep!” 30 Carol Rita “Yes, it’s hard. I never could get it all. Missionary people came around when we were in Iowa and Kansas. They tried to tell us all about it. I always figured it like this: God is the one who made everything that lives. He made the earth and all that is on it. So when we pray to God it doesn’t make much difference how we do it. What’s really important is that we pray, and are thankful for all we have; for our bodies, our minds, our food, our homes and all the things in the earth that God gave us to use for our good. We should be kind, and not say things that aren’t true. We shouldn’t hurt anyone. If we do all that it doesn’t matter how we pray. I’m an Indian. I want to pray in my own way. Now that you are growing up, you’ll have to think about how you want to pray, in the Indian belief, or the white man’s way.” “The white folks have a pretty song. I’ll sing it for you: The King of Love my shepherd is His goodness faileth never, I nothing lack if I am His And He is mine, forever. “The teacher told me what it means. It says, God is love. He will never leave us no matter what we do. We should try to be good like Him. He always loves the people and takes care of them. It’s real pretty, don’t you think?” Uncle Matthew nodded in agreement. Starting across the green plain to the west he quietly sang an old Indian religious song: God loves his people God wants his people to be well and bright, The people thank God for their blessings. God listens to his people, God loves the people. At the end of the prayer song Uncle Matthew stood up and looked down at Rita. “I have to go now. I’ll come back before I leave for home; you look for me. I have to go down to the store and get something for your mother. She’ll be coming up here after you in a few weeks, but she needs some needles before then. Rita 31 When you come home for vacation, we can talk about religion. It’s too hard if you keep speaking about it. You talk some, and then you think some.” Rita sat still on the wooden bench and watched Uncle Matthew walk down the hill towards the small blackjack tree and untie his horse. The old man pulled himself to the saddle, turned, and waved as he rode down the path. Rita followed him with her eyes until she could see him no more. Then she looked down at the ground and picked up one lone green bead, green, the color of Mother Earth, who gave us all the good things for our lives. After Rita picked up the single bead she gazed across the yard and saw the older girls going in and out of the kitchen. She had better get inside and set the tables, before the matron missed her. As soon as the supper dishes had been washed and put away, Rita slipped outside to watch for Uncle Matthew’s return. When she saw him riding up the hill she ran down the path to meet him. Uncle Matthew pulled his horse to a stop. Without uttering a sound, he opened one of his large saddle bags, and lifted out strings and strings of brightly-colored beads. He handed them to Rita. “You can start that belt now. Don’t give any of these beads to your Aunt Millie. They’re for you. Don’t let her take them.” Without another word, the old man turned his horse and rode off. Rita felt a tear drip down her face as she watched him move away towards Haskway Village and home.
Part Two Chapter 6 1895 •The five winters Rita spent at Agency School blended into one. She was thirteen, and interested in everything about the white man’s world. She loved to read the stories in McGUFFEY’S READER, and to learn about new lands from her geography. Every day she gathered fresh thoughts for dreams, which carried her away from Hasway Village. Rita had grown accustomed to many new things while she was at Agency School. The large brick building, that once seemed cold and dark, became warm and cheerful to her. She liked the clean gas lamps that lighted the long halls and the big dormitory rooms. The water pump right in the kitchen was the best of all; such better than carrying buckets of water from the water hole, as she and Mother had to do at home. Rita went to church regularly, and learned more about the white man’s beliefs. They became less strange to her with time. But she also found comfort in what Uncle Matthew had taught her: “God is everywhere. God is in the flowers and the trees, Everywhere.” Rita had no close girl friends. She never wanted any friend except Angus. She saw him every afternoon when she had finished helping in the sewing room and he had cleaned the stable for the Agency Farmer. Sometimes they walked together to Mr. Whistler’s store for candy. Other times they would sit and talk, or walk around the grounds, looking to see if they knew any of the folks who had come to visit the Agent that day. Each summer Rita went home to Mother. Each summer the long plank summer house, the big cattail house, and the brush arbor seemed less like home to her than the school did. She began to dislike the sparseness of Indian life, and longed for the white man’s material comforts. Rita 33 She liked the Indian religion, but the long ceremonies of the Grand Medicine Society, lasting all day and sometimes extending through the night, appeared heathenish and tiresome, compared to the church services she attended during the winter. In the summer Angus lived with his Grandma near the Agency. Rita guessed that was another reason why she disliked going home. She hated being home with Mother, when Aunt Millie was there to receive most of Mother’s attention. This summer would be different. She didn’t care about Aunt Millie. Rita was going to be sponsored by Uncle Matthew in the Friendship Ceremony to honor another tribe. All winter at school she had thought about the ceremony and now the time for it had come. Uncle Matthew was going to make the Shawnee Indian chief’s daughter, Sadie Taylor, her gift-friend. All their lives they were supposed to act like sisters toward one another. Rita wasn’t sure if she really wanted a sister! But Rita liked the idea of being the important person in her family. She was glad Uncle Matthew had chosen her. Mother had wanted Aunt Millie to receive this distinction. Uncle Matthew had refused, saying he had taken Rita as his daughter. It was only proper for her to have the honor. Aunt Millie was jealous. She had spent all the time since her return home from Chilocco Indian School being mad. She complained about Rita to Mother, and once she hit Rita with the handle of the heavy outdoor broom. Mother tried to reason with Aunt Millie; she wouldn’t listen. At last, to soothe her hurt feelings, Mother let her go to visit a friend at Stroud. There she remained until it was time for the Friendship Ceremony. Rita was glad to have Aunt Millie out of the way. A week before the Friendship Ceremony, the family, with the other Sauk, came from their villages and allotments. They set up camps at the Agency and waited to receive their annual summer payments. All the people would remain encamped here for an additional week, so they could hold the Friendship Ceremony. Today was the beginning of the three-day ceremony. The Shawnees were due to arrive at the camps in time for a noon feast. Tomorrow the Sauk would hold the gift ceremony, and the next day they would have the horse race. Every night the grown-ups gambled and danced. Everyone would be happy. Everyone had money, thought it changed hands fast. 34 Carol Rita Rita tied up the last bundle of gifts, and placed it with the others. All was ready for the ceremony tomorrow. She stood still in the cool of the tent and listened to the women’s voices lift and fall, as they chattered and laughed together. The women, Mother’s kinfolks, had come to help cook for the feast. Rita smelt the hot fires and the boiling food. Before long the guests would arrive. Off in the distance she heard the camp caller telling the camps to be ready to feed the visitors. Rita felt timid and alone as she walked out of the tent into the bright sunshine and the world full of people. Early that morning Uncle Matthew had gone south to meet the Shawnee Indians and bring them up to Agency and the Sauk camps. The sun was high in the sky before he led Chief Taylor and his family toward the tents. The Sauk women stopped working, and looked for their friends among the visitors. Rita guess she recognized Sadie; she must be the girl riding alongside of Uncle Matthew and Chief Taylor. Rita thought she looked kinda fresh, the way she sat on that paint pony and smiled at all the men. Rita had pictured Sadie as her own age, but she looked closer to Aunt Millie’s.
Rita 35 Chapter 7 1895-1896 A few days after the Friendship Ceremony, the Shawnees left Agency. Mother began putting all their good clothes away in the painted rawhide trunks. Rita and Aunt Millie helped. When everything was packed, Father and Uncle Matthew took down the tents and loaded the family’s belongings onto their farm wagon. Rita and Aunt Millie climbed in the back of the wagon and sat on lard cans. Uncle Matthew followed them into the back of the wagon, but he sat on a wooden bench. Father drove, with Mother beside him on the front seat. The heavy wagon turned north on the main road, past the Agency buildings, past the school, and through the town of Stroud. They continued northward to Camp Creek, where they spent the night. They left early in the morning to travel the rest of the way to Haskway Village. They arrived home to find the corn ripe and ready for drying. Mother’s kinfolk came each day to help her with the harvesting and to share in the division of the crops. Everyone was busy for weeks. Rita went with some of the women into the fields where they picked the sweet corn ears. Uncle Matthew, Father, and some of the other men loaded the wagons with the corn and hauled it back to the cook-shed in the farm yard. There Mother and the other women were waiting. Here the women boiled the whole ears in the big brass kettles, which the men filled with water and hung from chains over the fire. When the kernels of corn were tender, the women scraped them off the cops with river mussel shells or baking powder can lids, and spread them on clean wagon sheets to dry in the sun. Aunt Millie and Rita returned from the fields and were given the job of turning the drying kernels so the corn wouldn’t brown from the moisture that gathered on the wagon sheets or was carried in the air. Everybody went knowingly about his work. The men stopped now and then to chat with the women, or make a few jokes among themselves. The women talked casually, while they separated the kernels from the cob. Rita liked noon dinner the first day of corn harvesting, because Mother made corn pancakes. Mother could only make these when the corn was first ripened, so they had become an annual treat. The pancakes were so good that 36 Carol Rita Rita grew restless thinking about them while she worked. In the very early fall Mother’s kinfolk returned to help her harvest the beans and pumpkins. Rita thought hulling the beans was most fun of all the getting ready for winter. The green beans had been left to dry on the vine until the hulls were brittle. In order to loosen the beans from their stalks, Mother spread the vines on clean wagon sheets she laid on the ground. Then Rita, Mother, and some of the other women, all wearing their new fall moccasins, walked over the vines, breaking the beans free. Rita enjoyed treading over the stalks in time with the rhythm of the women’s songs, as her relatives scooped up the beans and tossed them in the air to get out hulls and pieces of stem. Next, Mother and the other women cut the hard yellow pumpkins into rings, and hung the loops from a line to dry. Sometimes they cut long strips of the pumpkin meat and plaited them into long netted sheets. The days passed quickly. It was time for Aunt Millie to go back to Chilocco Indian School. Father and Uncle Matthew took her, with some of the other children, to Guthrie to take the train. Rita was glad to see Aunt Millie leave. She would have Mother all to herself during the week before she went back to Agency School. On the day of Aunt Millie’s departure, Mother and Rita went to Euchee Creek to gather cattails for a new mat covering for the house. They came home late in the afternoon, to find the Agent sitting in the summer arbor waiting for them. Mother pulled the two plow horses to a stop, outside the rim of the cleared yard, and dropped from the wagon. The Agent walked over to greet her. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Borden. Good afternoon, Rita.” The Agent smiled and shook hands. “You been here long?” Mother asked. “About an hour. Some of your folks stopped by, and told me you’d be back soon. It’s a long trip up from Agency. I enjoyed the rest.” “Sit in the arbor. I’ll fix us all some supper. We can talk afterwards.” Mother hurried off to make fresh coffee and heat up the boiled corn and beef that were left over from noonday dinner. Then she made fry bread. Rita spread a clean reed mat out on the platform in the summer arbor. She placed three enamel soup plates in the center of the mat. They didn’t have any Rita 37 forks, so Rita gave the Agent the best spoon. She found a nice soft clean rag for him to use for a napkin. She wanted her table to look like the table at school. Mother motioned the Agent to sit on the platform by the mat. She placed the wooden bowl full of food before him. Then she told the Agent to help himself to all he wanted. “We haven’t said Grace,” Rita reminded them in English. The Agent smiled and bowed his head, gesturing for Rita to say the prayer. Rita spoke in English: Oh Lord, bless this food To our bodies’ use, And us to Thy loving service. Amen. After they had all finished supper, and the dishes and mat were removed from the platform, the Agent began to speak. “Rita’s a fine girl, Mrs. Borden. Her teachers think she’s real bright.” Mother smiled, and patted the edge of the platform. “That’s the reason I came up here to talk to you. We’re sending seven students to Chilocco Indian School next week, and we have room for one more. We think it would be good for Rita. She could go for another year here at Agency School, but she is ahead of most of her class. Her teacher feels she can learn more at Chilocco. I talked to your men the last time they were at Agency. They were willing for her to go, but they said I had to come and talk to you. Did they speak to you about it?” Rita jumped up in excitement. “Can I go? Mother, can I go? I’m a big girl. I want to go away to school like Angus. He went to Carlisle. Can I go?” Mother continued patting the edge of the platform with the palm of her right hand. The Agent and Rita watched her, and waited for her to speak. “My husband or my brother-in-law didn’t say anything about you talking with them. It’s really my brother-in-law’s decision. He’s her uncle. You know in the Sauk way, the mother’s brother has the right to say what his niece or nephew should do. I have no brother. Rita’s father gave her to his sister Tabitha. A father’s sister can say what their niece or nephew can do, just the same as a mother’s brother. Since Tabitha’s dead Matthew can say what Rita should do. You understand?” The Agent nodded his head to indicate he understood. Mother continued. “All the same Matthew will do what I think is best 38 Carol Rita for Rita. When it comes to white man’s ways, he thinks I know more what to do than he does. She seems little to me, but if you folks think she can do it, I guess she can go. Some ways, children grow up more quickly in the white man’s way than in the Indians’. When do you want me to have her ready?” Rita threw her arms around Mother and gave her a hug. Mother sat up straight, and shrugged Rita away. Rita drew back in shame. You should never show that you loved somebody that way. “Bring her to Agency next Monday. You can set up camp, and spend the night there with her. The children’ll leave from Agency on Tuesday morning and go to Guthrie. One of the teachers is going with them. They get the train for Kansas on Wednesday morning. I arranged for them to stay overnight at a hotel in Guthrie.” The Agent rose, shook hands, and said good-bye. Rita crawled onto her pallet, where she let her thoughts carry her away to Chilocco Indian School. The thud of the Agent’s horse going down the path to the main road jerked her back to reality. Rita shook off her dreams and got up to fetch some water form the spring and wash the dishes. The next week was filled with excitement for Rita. Mother made her three new dresses. Father went to Cushing to buy her a real suitcase. At last the time came to go to Agency. Rita sat in the back of the wagon with Uncle Matthew. She didn’t want to talk; she wanted to remember the country. She wanted to be able to think about it, if she got homesick at Chilocco. They reached Agency the following evening. Father drove to the place where they had camped for the Friendship Ceremony. He put the wagon sheet over the old white ash tent frame, and made them a shelter for the night. Rita helped Mother prepare supper. She thought about the last time they were here. How different it all was, now! Rita woke at daybreak and bathed in the metal tub Mother had brought with them. When she finished Mother surprised her with a present of a new suit of flannel underwear with a drop seat. Rita thought the garment was beautiful. Deliberately, she put on her new green calico two-piece dress, with the full skirt and loose over-blouse, just like Mother’s. Her new government shoes were beautiful too, with their brass toes, and the new black stockings looked wonderful coming out of them up her slim legs. Rita 39 Mother packed Rita’s other two new dresses in the suitcase. When they were almost ready to leave, she tied fifty cents in a cloth and pinned it to the front of Rita’s underwear, in case Rita needed money on the trip. Rita adjusted the new sailor hat Mother had let her choose at the trading post on the center of her head. Her braid of hair, tied with a green ribbon, fell straight down her back. She was ready. The wagon was waiting at the Agency office. The Agent gave their chaperone final instructions, the children piled in, and the wagon started off for Guthrie. Rita waved to Mother, Uncle Matthew, and Father. She looked back at the Agency buildings until the swells of the open prairie hid them away. The trip to Guthrie was fun. Rita knew the seven Sauk boys who were her traveling companions. They talked all day in the Sauk language. That night they stopped at a farm belonging to a white friend of the Agent. Here the boys and their chaperon slept in the barn, but Rita was asked to stay in the house with the family. She felt kinda strange being the only Indian there. In the morning, they started early and drove all day. They got to Guthrie about an hour before supper time. The big wooden buildings and paved streets of the town were strange sights to Rita. There were so many people and no one there that she knew. She looked at the boys, and was glad they were all together. The wagon stopped in front of a large brick building with a front porch. Rita read the sign hanging over the door. It said “Hotel”. She wondered what it meant. The children all marched after the chaperon, up the steps, and into the front room of the building. After a few minutes a strange woman took Rita to her room. This room was down a long narrow dark hall, and away from where the boys were. The woman took Rita in and opened the window. She spoke to her, but Rita was too shy to answer. After a little while the woman smiled and left. Rita stood looking at the smudgy cream-colored walls, the iron bedstead, and the chipped-bellied dresser. Grayish-white curtains blew into the room and turned Rita’s attention to the window. The room faced north, and all that Rita could see when she looked out was another building across a small alley. She took her little suitcase, sat on the edge of the bed, and cried. She wanted Uncle Matthew and Mother. She liked Agency School. This was terrible! What would Chilocco be like? The more she thought, the more she cried. 40 Carol Rita Abruptly, Rita stopped crying, and realized she had to go to the toilet. She didn’t know where to find the outhouse; the woman hadn’t said where it was. Rita opened the door of her room, and peered down the long hall. The light from two gas jets made weird shaking shadows creep and retreat past each door. She jumped back into the room. Then she noticed a large wash bowl on the dresser. She looked the room over again. In the corner, on a little table, stood a red geranium. Rita thought it was beautiful; it reminded her of blossoming trees at home in the spring. She placed the plant on the dresser, where she could see it. Then she sat on the bed and waited for tomorrow morning, when they could leave for Chilocco. As time passed, the room grew dark. Rita sat real still. You never know what bad spirits might be in a strange room. She wished there had been another girl going to Chilocco – she wanted company. She began to sing one of Uncle Matthew’s songs for comfort. God loves His people God wants His people to be well and bright. The people thank God for their blessings. A knock came at the door. Rita stopped singing; she hardly breathed. The knock came again. She heard the voice of one of the boys. “Are you there Rita? Rita?” “Yah, I’m here.” “Come on, have supper. They sent me after you. Come on.” “Tell them I don’t want any supper. I’m going to stay right here till it’s time to leave. I’m not coming out.” Rita listened to the shuffle of the feet as the boy went down the hall. She was hungry. She was lonely. The tears came to her eyes again and she cried softly to herself. A little time passed. There was another knock at the door, and Rita stuffed the tears down her throat to answer. “Rita, open the door. Please!” A girl’s voice said. “No I won’t. Who are you?” “My mother runs this hotel. She said you were the only girl with all those Rita 41 boys. She thought you’d like to have supper with us. I don’t have anyone to play with. Won’t you come?” Rita opened the door to see a girl about her own age. She thought the girl looked real friendly, with her big smile and shiny bright eyes. “I’m Alice. Come on. We got fried chicken for supper.” She reached out for Rita’s hand. The two girls walked down the hall towards the light of the dining room and the laughter of the people. The next morning Rita and the seven boys took the train to Kansas and Chilocco. Rita was glad to leave the city and be out in the country again. The trip was uneventful, and she was relieved when she finally was settled in her room at school. Rita liked Chilocco. Aunt Millie was there, but Rita didn’t see much of her. It was good, though, to have some of your kinfolks close by when you were far away from home. Sadie Taylor was also there. She never paid any attention to Rita. But Rita noticed how brazenly she flirted with all the young men. The seven boys didn’t stay at Chilocco more than a month, then they ran away to go home. Rita thought they weren’t smart to do that. They would never learn to get on in the world if they didn’t go to school. Rita was busy all winter. She studied hard at her lessons and found the teachers more interesting than those at the Agency School. She worked in the sewing room where there was a very nice Matron, who taught Rita how to do embroidery. She made a collar to take home to Mother. For the first time in her life, Rita played basketball. She liked the game, and played so well that she was put on the first team. The days passed quietly, and it was soon time to go home for summer vacation. Aunt Millie had a summer job near the school. Sometimes, Rita was glad Aunt Millie wasn’t coming home; there would be no one to tattle on her. But then, without Aunt Millie, Mother would have only Rita to scold all the time. When she thought about this, she wished Aunt Millie was going home too. Rita and ten other children from Oklahoma Territory arrived at the station in Guthrie early in the evening. They were to be met by someone from Agency, 42 Carol Rita and driven to Stroud the next morning. Rita hoped they would spend the night at the same hotel. She wanted to see the lend-lady’s daughter again. The conductor placed Rita’s little suitcase on the platform. Rita thanked him, picked it up, and followed the other children towards the street. She saw an old Indian man, with his hair cut in a dutch bob. He looked like Uncle Matthew. He was Uncle Matthew! Rita ran to him as fast as she could. She wanted to hub him, but now she was a young lady and she couldn’t do that. Embarrassed, they stood looking at each other. Uncle Matthew smiled and held out his hand for Rita to shake. “I come after you. I known’d you’d like coming home with me better than riding with all those kids.” Then he stood appraising her, finally he spoke again, “My, you got tall. That dark woolen school dress makes you look all growed-up. I’ll bet your moccasins will feel good after them government shoes.” Rita giggled at him, “I’m glad you come. You come alone?” “Yah, your mother and father are busy at the village, planting and getting things fixed for summer. I just took the surrey and come after you. I guess you never did see that surrey. We got it after you went away. It’s nice and the team’s easy for me to drive. You’ll see it tomorrow. Come on now, let’s go to the Hotel. I already got rooms for us. First let’s stop somewheres and eat. You hungry?” Rita nodded her head, “Yes.” They walked out of the station and down the street towards the hotel. The city still looked big to Rita, but now that she was grown up she wasn’t afraid of it. Uncle Matthew took her to a big restaurant for supper. It was the first time she had ever eaten in such a place. The waitress was very nice, and waited while Rita read the menu to Uncle Matthew and they talked about each item. At last Rita decided fried chicken would be best; they couldn’t fool you with that. She knew what the cooks sometimes did with the meat at school, and she didn’t want Uncle Matthew to get sick. Rita liked to sit in the restaurant and look at all the people, but she thought Uncle Matthew seemed uneasy. He looked at the silverware critically, and he ate the chicken with his fingers. Rita tried to tell him the table was fixed like this at school. She wanted to show him what to do, but he didn’t pay any attention to her. Uncle Matthew finished his supper and then he wanted to leave. Rita was sorry he didn’t like the restaurant. She thought it was like eating in the school dining room, only here you could choose what you wanted, and there were strangers to watch. Rita 43 Uncle Matthew carried Rita’s suitcase and made her hold his hand as they walked down the street past the shops. They stopped and admired the pretty dresses, the shoes, and the boisterous jewelry. Uncle Matthew appeared to be enjoying himself; Rita knew that was only a show, to please her. He would rather be at the hotel asleep because he liked to leave early in the morning. Rita drew a deep breath as they passed a hat shop. In the window was the most beautiful hat she had ever seen; black with a red flower. It was all made of lace, with a big broad brim. Rita stood and stared at the hat. It was just so beautiful. “Uncle Matthew,” she whispered, not to disturb its splendor, “isn’t that the most beautiful hat? I wish I had it. It’s just like the rich white women wear to parties in the big cities. I saw pictures of them in the Kansas City paper we read at school. Oh, Uncle Matthew, it’s so pretty!” “I guess it’s pretty for white women. You want to be a white woman or an Indian?” “OH, I want to be an Indian, but I could wear it. Someday, maybe, I’ll have enough money to buy a hat like that.” They walked quietly back to the hotel. The land-lady’s daughter had gone visiting some relatives. Rita said good night to Uncle Matthew and went off to bed. Morning came quickly after the long train ride and the evening’s excitement. Uncle Matthew knocked on her door to call Rita to come and eat. After breakfast she wanted to go back to the room to make the bed and get her suitcase. Uncle Matthew told her to wait. He had some business and would like her to go with him. Then they would leave for home. Uncle Matthew guided Rita out of the hotel, and down the street to the hat store. He made her stay outside while he went in alone to talk to the woman in charge of the millinery shop. Rita tried to watch him through the window. It was so dark inside the store that the bright sunlight struck the glass, and made her reflection bounce off the pane. Uncle Matthew was hidden from her. She moved this way and that trying to get away from her reflection. She was so absorbed in trying to see Uncle Matthew, and in her own thoughts, that she didn’t notice the stares of the men and women who passed by. She wondered if Uncle Matthew would have enough money to buy her that hat. She hardly dared to hope for so much. 44 Carol Rita Uncle Matthew came out in a little while, carrying a white hat box, which he handed to her. Rita quickly untied its ribbon and raised the lid. There was the big black hat! She stared unbelievingly at Uncle Matthew. She didn’t know what to say or do. A large lump of tears came to her throat and she swallowed hard. “Go on, put it on,” Uncle Matthew coaxed. “I want to see how you look.” Deliberately Rita lifted the hat from the box and placed it upon her head. “You sure look pretty. I never seen any pictures of them rich women in the big cities, but they couldn’t be near as pretty as you.” Rita blushed and shyly gazed at her reflection in the store window. The saleslady came to the door and inquired if Rita would like to come in the millinery shop and look at herself in the mirror. Majestically Rita followed Uncle Matthew, and swept to the mirror. She peered in the glass, to see the reflection of a small round chubby face tucked under a great big black hat. Rita knew she was beautiful. She felt most elegant as she took Uncle Matthew’s arm, just like the rich ladies in the newspaper pictures, and marched from the store. They walked first to the livery stable to get the horse, before they went to the hotel for their baggage. Uncle Matthew began to speak as they walked arm-in-arm. “I thought about that hat all night. You like pretty clothes and things, and it’s good for women to look nice. A woman who keeps herself looking pretty thinks a lot of herself. She will always live right. Your Aunt Tabitha kept herself pretty, and your mother keeps herself clean and neat. I guess your father likes the way she looks. “I figured it this way; your mother feels proud with that new surrey. I figured, you should feel proud the same way. That’s why I bought you the hat.” “I’m glad you bought the hat. I think it’s so pretty. Did it cost an awful lot? I wish Aunt Millie could see it. She’d be jealous ‘cause she’d want a pretty hat, too. She doesn’t belong to you, so she wouldn’t get one.” “That’s no way to talk. You shouldn’t talk about folks like that. Something bad will happen to you if you keep on. If Aunt Millie were here I’d buy her a hat too.” Rita didn’t answer. She took Uncle Matthew’s hand when they crossed the street and forgot to let go of it until they reached the livery stable. It was good to be home; to be with Uncle Matthew. Rita 45 Chapter 8 1896 Only a few weeks had passed since Rita returned home from Chilocco Indian School. Today she felt as if she had never left Mother and the old Indian ways. Her years in the white man’s world seemed to fade into dreams as the early summer swallowed Haskway Village. The corn was high; the green beans and new potatoes were gathered; the spring ceremonies were over. The people waited to go to Agency for their summer payment. There they would hold religious ceremonies, visit, and gamble. The people would be together again. Rita stood behind Mother, in the little cattail weaving shed, and watched as Mother wove a brightly colored rush mat to be used in the Grand Medicine Society ceremony. This spring Mother had been taken into the Society, before Rita had returned from Chilocco. It was the same secret Society that Aunt Tabitha had belonged to. The decisive movements of Mother’s hands drove Rita’s mind back in time. She thought about Aunt Tabitha and Mother weaving together. Now, only Mother knew how. Rita was too small to learn when Aunt Tabitha died, and now even if Mother would teach her, she didn’t care to learn. What would she use a rush mat for? There had been all those years at Agency School, and last winter at Chilocco. She had learned many things, reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and sewing. They were all skills of the white world. Except the sewing; she had learned that first from Mother. Mother had taught Rita to use the new treddle machine when she was so little she had to stand on the big foot pedal. At Agency School Rita helped in the sewing room. During the past winter, the Sauk Agent had written to her at Chilocco, to invite her to come back to Agency School and be an assistant in the sewing room. She didn’t want to return to Chilocco. She wanted to go to Agency School, and someday get to be a matron. Rita suddenly remembered that she hadn’t told Mother about the Agent’s letter. 46 Carol Rita Mother broke the silence. Her voice harmonized with the movement of her hands. “You’ve been away from home for seven years. You were a child when you left. Now you’re a young woman; you’re fifteen. You know the white man’s ways, you speak his language, you read and write English. You’ll make a good wife for one of our chiefs or headmen. These days, some of them are marrying white women because they need a woman who can understand English, to help them do business with the white farmers.” “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” “It’s like this. When I was a young woman like you, the Indians owned all the land. Five years ago, it was – I guess you don’t remember – they gave each one of us an allotment. Everyone, children and old people too, got one hundred and sixty acres of land. We got yours. The white men were allowed to buy the rest of our tribal land. That’s why we have all those white people settled around here, and why our men need to know the white man’s language.” “I’ve heard about all that at Agency School. I think it was a good thing. We didn’t need all that land. We can’t go on living like old-fashioned Indians forever. The white man’s way to live is better. It’s easier, to have water in the houses, and gas lights.” “Everything has to change now that our people are sending their children to school. You wanted me to learn the white man’s ways and to act like him. Didn’t you? Why did you want me to go to school?” “I wanted you to go to school so you could have an easier life than I did. You have an easier life than I did. You have to know white man’s ways if you are going to get ahead in the world. I wanted you to marry a rich man and have lots of nice clothes, live in a big house, and have plenty of money.” “You married a rich man. Father has lots, all those cattle and hogs and horses. You have a surrey and four shawls. You could build a white man’s house on your allotted land down near Prague; but yet you stay here in the Indian Village and live like our people did a hundred years ago. Do you want me to marry an Indian man or do you want me to marry a white man and have money and pretty things?” “I want you to marry a rich Indian. You know that old man who comes around all the time to talk with your father? He asked for you. He wants to marry you.” Rita 47 “No! No! No, Mother! I don’t want him! He’s older than Uncle Matthew.” “Mind your manners. Don’t but in when I’m talking. His allotment joins your uncle’s and some day all that land will be yours. He’s rich. You would have all that land.” “I don’t want him. No. No.” Tears sprang to Rita’s eyes. “No. No. Uncle Matthew won’t let me. You’re an old-fashioned Indian to try to make me. I’m going to decide who I’m gonna marry, like the white people do.” “You’re father and I told the old man he could have you. Your Uncle Matthew has the say over you ‘cause he’s your Uncle. I can make him see things my way, though. He doesn’t know what we’re planning for you yet. You might as well make up your mind you’ll marry the old man before we go to Agency for summer payment.” Rita couldn’t speak anymore; she tore from the cattail lean-to. She stopped in the middle of the yard and let the sun beat down into her bones. She didn’t know where to go or where to hide. She saw Uncle Matthew sitting in the summer arbor, carving a wooden bowl. She ran to his side. “They want me to marry that old man. I don’t want to. No! No! No!” She clutched at his shoulder. “Wipe your tears on this cloth. Stop crying, so I can understand what you’re saying.” Uncle Matthew laid his work aside to listen to Rita. “That old man that’s been coming around talking to Father, he wants me. They said yes, because he has an allotment next to yours. I don’t want him.” Rita’s hands shook as she smeared the tears from her eyes. Uncle Matthew sat and stared off to the west, the way he always did when he thought deeply. “You don’t want him. Who do want?” Without letting her answer he continued. “You’re old enough to marry. You’re plump like your Mother, and you have nice eyes. You’re beautiful. You’ll be a fine woman, like your Aunt Tabitha. When I was a young man a girl married who ever her folks picked out for her, but I guess things are changing now. Some of our men and women are even marrying white folks. If our young people keep on marrying out of our tribe, it won’t be long before all the Sauk will be gone.” Rita interrupted him, “I don’t want to marry anyone right now. I want to go back to Agency School, and help in the sewing room. I don’t like anyone but Angus McFarland, ‘cause he knows the white folks’ ways and the Indian ways, 48 Carol Rita just like me. Someday I want to marry him, when he comes back from Carlisle Indian School in the east. I want to wait for him.” “Angus McFarland! He’s Thunder clan, like your Mother. That’s not your clan, you belong to the Fish clan, like your father. I guess it’s all right, ‘cause he’s not your kin. Remember, you can’t marry any man in your own clan. That would be like marrying your brother. “I don’t know if Angus will want you when he comes back. Remember, those schools in the east make a person change. I guess the best thing is for you to go to work at Agency School until you can straighten things out. I’ll go talk to your father and mother.” The family gathered in the summer arbor, after dinner. Father puffed on his large curved briar pipe, which he always saved for his evening smoke. Mother settled herself against the post of the arbor and chewed her tobacco. Occasionally she would lean over the platform to spit into a tin can. Rita watched the sun slide over the western horizon and pull the moon up into the eastern sky. Uncle Matthew sat cross-legged at the west end of the arbor, and eyed all of them. Finally, he spoke. “You can’t marry this child to that old man. She’s going back to Agency School and work in the sewing room the way them folks want her to do.” Mother glared at her brother-in-law. “She’s mine and she’s going to do what I say. You’re an old man. Mind your own affairs.” “According to the old ways she’s my niece. I can say what she’s going to do.” “Her mother and I talked it over,” Father stated. “This old man would make us all rich. Among us we have, counting you, a full section down near Prague. His land joins yours, and with his quarter section we could have a good ranch of 800 acres. “He’s had lots of wives; he knows how to handle a virgin. He won’t hurt her. If she has a child by him, that will be good. When he dies, she can marry a younger man. Her young man will learn about marriage from her, and he will know beforehand that she can bear him children. It will all be good.” Uncle Matthew shook his head, “I won’t allow it.” “The old man’s going to get her!” Mother warned. He’s going to giver her Love Medicine. He’ll get her, and you won’t be able to stop him. He says if we don’t give her to him he’ll get her with Love Medicine. Then there won’t be any marriage or any gifts.” Rita 49 Rita was too scared to cry. She looked steadily at her uncle, and waited for his help. “Love Medicine is bad, my sister-in-law. This old man has used so much of it that he is crazy. He thinks he can make love to a woman who has never had a man. He’ll be impatient, if she doesn’t respond to him right away. He’ll give her more and more Love Medicine to maker her want him. The Medicine will make her sick, or she’ll go crazy. “You, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, have too many possessions. You’re destroying your lives to get more. Our religion teaches that we should take only what we need from Mother Earth, no more. If we take more, bad things will happen! “Rita will have to fast for four days to free herself from the old man. It’s not winter, but in a bad time like this she must ask God’s help. He will help her and she will hear His words, and they will make her free. She won’t have to marry the old man. God’s power is stronger than any Love Medicine. “I’ll show my niece how to fast and purify herself in the sweat lodge. I’ll see to her.” Uncle Matthew left the platform; Rita saw the moonlight strike his bobbed hair and strong shoulders. She thought of the white man’s Savior, Jesus Christ. Rita fasted for four days that summer. Uncle Matthew didn’t sing, because the snakes might hear, and something bad might happen to all of them. Uncle Matthew and Rita prayed silently side by side. Rita grew weaker and her thirst for water grew greater with each day. She drove herself on. She must finish the fast. She must be released from the old man. They stayed close by the cattail house, and didn’t visit, or talk with people. The only time Uncle Matthew spoke to anyone was when the old man came to make the final marriage arrangements with Father. He talked for a long time with Father and the old man. Rita never knew what they said; she hid herself inside the cattail house until the old man left. When the four days of feasting were over, Uncle Matthew said Rita must cleanse herself inside, before she would be completely released from the old man. He instructed Father to build the circular willow frame for the sweat lodge and Mother to cover it with wagon sheets. Next he had Mother heat stones, 50 Carol Rita until they were fire-hot, and place them in a hole in the earth in the center of the little lodge. Rita and Uncle Matthew entered the sweat lodge together. Mother stayed outside to bring them newly-heated stones and buckets of water. Inside, Uncle Matthew made steam by sprinkling water on the hot rocks with bunches of sage. When the lodge grew very warm, he removed his shirt, took a handful of sage, dipped it into the water, and rubbed his body with it. He motioned to Rita to take off her blouse and do the same. While they rubbed their bodies they prayed silently, except when Uncle Matthew softly sang the fasting song so Rita could learn the words and sing them to herself. I have fasted for God. fasted four days. My friends blackened my face with coals. I prayed to God. I have fasted for God. I fasted four days. My friends put Mother Earth on my face towards the end. I prayed to God. I have fasted for God. I fasted four days. I looked pitiful. I prayed to God. I have fasted for God. I fasted four days. I suffered for God. I prayed to God. As time passed, Rita grew weak. Mother brought herb tea, which Uncle Matthew made Rita drink. She became sick. Uncle Matthew dug a hole in the ground and instructed her to vomit into it. He told her the vomit was the old Rita 51 man’s evil power, which had entered her body. Since the vomit was part of her body, it must be returned to the Grandmother Earth. Rita drank more tea, and as she swallowed the bitter liquid her soul seemed to drift away from the lodge. Rita came back into the world to find herself again in the sweat lodge. The heat and the steam had subsided. Uncle Matthew sat beside her on the ground. “My child, you have had a dream. Tell me, so I will know if it is good. Remember, you must never tell anyone else. If you tell, something bad will happen to you.” “I dreamed I was on a log in a big river. There were three men on the log with me. The water got real rough. It rained hard. The wind blew and the Thunders came. The Thunders took the log and stood it on end; the three men slid off and down under the water. I went down under the water, too. Every time I went under, I came up again, each time the Thunders would push me back under the water. I came up four times, the fourth time I heard a voice from up in the sky. The voice told the Thunders to leave me alone because I was supposed to live. I was told to come back to the people.” Uncle Matthew sat and looked to the west, as he always did when he thought deeply. Then he whispered to Rita. “That was a good dream. You have received power from God. It’s a special power, which will look after you until you grow real, real old. Your dream means you will live to be an old woman. “Some day there will be someone whom you love very much, who will cross a big water. You can give him your power. It will protect him and bring him home safely. You have dreamed a good dream, my niece. “You are released form the old man. Your mother will let you go to the Agency School to work. God will show you the right way. Listen to God, my child.” 52 Carol Rita Part Three Chapter 9 1899 •Rita was a woman of nineteen. She had learned a great deal about life during the three years since she had left Mother’s house and returned to the Agency to become assistant in the sewing room. Rita had seen Indian children brought in, like herself, who were unable to cope with the white man’s ideas. She had watched the children leave school speaking English; dressing and acting like white people. She knew that in their hearts they were still Indian. She often wondered how many of those children would move out into the white man’s world, and how many would fall back again into the old Indian pattern of life. Rita had felt the nasty sting of gossip. She loved life. She enjoyed being with men, and she wanted to have the pleasures of her youth. Angus McFarland remained in the East after he was graduated from Carlisle. Rita was lonely without him. She found the company of white men from Stroud a pleasant experience. People of the community talked about her, and the Agent spoke to her, but Rita felt that her actions were part of the natural rhythm of life. This was what her people believed was the way of life for a man and a woman. Rita knew the white people did the same things; look at the men hanging around Stroud. The difference between the Indians and the white men was that the Indians acted openly, while the white people hid behind a curtain of secrecy. Rita had gone home very seldom during the last three years. She thought Mother didn’t want her. Rita 53 Millie was away working in Kansas City in a big store. Father and Mother traveled back and forth between their allotments in the south, near Prague, and their home, in the north, at Haskway Village. When they passed the Agency School they often stopped to see Rita. The visits were short, for there was little to be said. Uncle Matthew stayed at home, because he was getting old and wished to be by himself. Rita longed to see him. A few times her loneliness drove her to spend several days at Haskway Village. Each visit was harder. The family appeared more backward to her, living in their old-fashioned houses, and dressing and acting as their ancestors had done a hundred years before. Rita felt self-conscious and superior to her white woman’s clothes, with her white woman’s ways. She often thought about the religion of the people at Agency. They all said they believed in Jesus Christ, but some believed differently than others. Rita liked to hear and read about Christ. She liked the Bible and often read it, but she still couldn’t worship in the Protestant way. Some things seemed right, but others were so strange she couldn’t catch them. This year at Agency School had been the same as the past three; that is, until March, when the smallpox came. At first the people had thought the sickness was the black measles. They were afraid to be vaccinated. Two Shawnee Indian men had told the people the white men would kill them with the vaccination medicine. After a great deal of explanation, the Agent and the Doctor were able to persuade the people to be vaccinated. No one really knew how the epidemic had come to the Sauk. People said some visiting Kickapoo Indians had brought it from Mexico. The Agent and the Doctor believed it had been carried to the Sauk from the Creek Indians by the two Shawnee men who moved from village to village, frightening the Indians about the vaccination. To stop the spread of the disease, the Agent had the Shawnee men imprisoned. The first case fo the smallpox at Haskway Village was reported in March. The Agent immediately set up a pest camp near the Village for the sick people. Everyone living in Haskway Village was quarantined. Rita wanted to go home, so she could help take care of her people when they needed her. The Agent wouldn’t let her go because she was needed at school. Three children had died and the others must be cared for and watched. 54 Carol Rita Rita stood on the porch of the school and waited for the Agent to return from Haskway Village. During the past month she had done this every time the Agent went to visit the pest camp and the Village. She hoped to have word from home, but each time the Agent said he had heard nothing about her family. The soft April breeze fussed about Rita, and its constant movement made her feel restless. She paced down the path to the road to see if the Agent was in sight, and then back to the porch, and back again to the road. At last, as the shadows began to merge into darkness, she saw his wagon coming up the path to the school. She stood still, waiting. The Agent drove past the school, straight to the barn. Rita turned and went into the building. Rita had been in her room about an hour when she heard someone stop at her door. She pulled herself from the bed, hoping there was not another sick child to be cared for. She tied her wrapper securely, and opened the door. There was the Agent. “May I come in, Rita? I want to talk with you.” Rita stood aside and let the man enter. She looked into his grim face and knew something was wrong. “I’ve come from the pest camp by Haskway Village. Your father has smallpox. The Doctor thinks he will die. Your Mother wants you to come home. I’m sorry I have to bring you bad news.” Rita heard his words, but part of their meaning didn’t seem clear. Mother wanted her, and only those words rang in her head. “You’ve been vaccinated, so you can go tomorrow. The Doctor is going up, and you can ride with him. You’ll have to stay until there are no more contagious cases, because the camp is quarantined. There’s a lot of sick people and a lot of work. Sleep well; you’re going to need your rest. I hope your father will get better. Good night.” The night seemed extra long to Rita. The first light of dawn got her up to dress and pack her things. She took nothing with her except a change of clothes wrapped in a towel. She knew whatever went into the pest camp would have to be destroyed. The Doctor was ready before the dew on the earth had dried. They climbed into the buggy, and he urged the horse down the path to the road. Rita sat watching the ground move under them as they traveled northward. The sun danced over the earth. Rita didn’t notice, for her thoughts were at Haskway Village. Rita 55 The Doctor spoke after a long while. “I think the disease is going away now, but over eighty-seven people have been sick, and we have had forty people die. I guess we vaccinated everyone, close to four hundred. We must stop the disease so it won’t start again. “I’m worried. We’re going to have to burn the houses and destroy the village, get rid of everything that has been near the sickness. The dogs, cats, hogs, cattle, horses, all must be shot, and all the people’s belongings must be burned. I hope they’ll understand. Maybe you could try to explain why we have to do this.” “I’ll try, but you don’t know them folks! I don’t know how they’ll take it. I’ll talk to my mother. When did you see my father? How was he? Do you think he’ll make it?” “I saw him two days ago. I think you’ll be lucky if he’s living when we get there.” “How come he got sick? I thought you vaccinated all them folks up there back in March when the epidemic started.” “We thought he was vaccinated, but it seems he was over to Creek Indian country to see somebody about buying cattle when we vaccinated Haskway Village. He came back here a couple of weeks later, and took the smallpox. We gave him the serum, but it was too late.” Rita and the Doctor spoke no more. The horse moved steadily towards the poet camp. Rita’s first view of the camp sent a shiver down her whole body. The big yellow and black sign hanging from the barbed wire fence shouted QUARANTINE. There was only one gate and a man with a rifle stood by it. The Doctor stopped to tell him Rita had come to help. No one was allowed in or out of the camp. As they neared the large oval tent which served as a hospital, Rita felt the loneliness of death. The old wagon covers pulled over the white ash tent frame gave the place a pathetic look. She followed the Doctor inside. The room was bare except for a wood fire in the middle. Around the sides, on straw pallets, people were lying. Rita moved from person to person, looking for Father. She knew everyone there and pity rose in her heart as their fevered eyes stared up at her. She noticed that they were no clothes under the cotton blankets that were wrapped around their gaunt bodies. Rita breathed the rancid air, filled with body smells, disinfectant, wood smoke and death. She grew weak, and her head spun. She ran out of the door. 56 Carol Rita Outside, she leaned against a cotton wood tree and tried to collect herself. “Father, Father!” was pounding in her head. Where could he be? Dead! At last, Rita pulled herself straight, smoothed her long skirt, and started to go back into the hospital to inquire about him. As she neared the tent she saw a woman coming towards her. She realized it was Mother. Rita ran to meet her. “Are you do’n all right? Where’s Father? The Doctor brought me. We just came.” Mother didn’t answer. She led Rita over to the woodpile, where she let herself down on a large log, and motioned to her daughter to sit besides her. Rita noticed that Mother was tired. Her keen eyes were dulled and red, and her usually neat black hair hadn’t been combed. Stray locks crept over her ears and down her neck. Rita felt Mother’s eyes penetrate her body. Then Mother spoke softly. “Your Father’s dead. He died early this morning, around daybreak. Some others died last night, too, and they took the bodies and buried them. They didn’t let us dress them or anything; we couldn’t even see them. They dug one big hole and put all the bodies in it and covered it over high with dirt. The men are still working over there, putting barbed wire around the grave. Nobody’s allowed to go near it.” At first Rita was too stunned to understand what Mother had said. As the words became clear to her, she closed her eyes and a tear dripped down her face. She mustn’t cry, especially in front of Mother. Nobody should see her cry, or people would think she didn’t’ love Father. Even Mother might think that. Fear crept over Rita. Father hadn’t had a proper Indian burial. Would his spirit return as an owl to haunt his family? Rita knew she should mourn for Father, so his spirit would reach the Land of the Dead. But how could she? Could she leave school and work, to mourn as she had done for Aunt Tabitha? She would have to go home with Mother! Then she remembered Father had died in the white man’s hospital. He was buried by the white men. She could mourn for him as the white people did. She would pray for him in Indian in the white man’s church, although she wouldn’t wear black clothes, like the white people. Rita looked at Mother. She thought she saw a tear on Mother’s cheek, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know what to do next; then Aunt Tabitha came to her mind. Rita knew Aunt Tabitha would look at things as they were, by taking care of the living ad praying for the spirits of the dead later, when she had time. Rita 57 Mother sat up straight, and held her head high as she spoke to Rita. “You came up here to help tend the sick, so go inside and get to work. I’m going to wash blankets in the creek. The Doctor doesn’t like it, but they get so dirty I can’t look at them. I don’t have to tell him what I do. Your Father went one way and we have to go another. You go help them folks in there.” “Agent said you sent for me. You wanted me to come. That’s why I’m here. You want me to stay with you, don’t you? Mother got up and took a few steps toward the hospital; then she stopped and turned. “Your uncle is all right. You can’t go see him ‘cause you’ve been in there. I’ll tell him I saw you. I’m not supposed to go in there and then back to the Village, but I just don’t say nothin’. You better not come to the Village or the Doctor will be angry.” Mother continued walking towards the hospital to get the blankets to take to the creek. Rita sat hoping she would stop and say something else. Rita’s body heaved with sorrow, but she couldn’t cry. Father was dead and she had forgotten all about Uncle Matthew. Rita knew sickness always brought changes, and she wondered what they would mean to her. She felt scared and alone as she went back into the hospital tent. It was two weeks later when the Doctor released Rita to return to Agency. All that time she helped care for the sick, allowing herself only a few hours of sleep each night. She was tired, and glad to see the red brick school building, which was home for her. As the days passed she heard reports from the pest camp. No new cases had broken out after she left the camp and the epidemic had been declared over. The Doctor and Agent ordered the village burned. Nothing could be removed; clothing, tents, religious paraphernalia, bedding, and everything else that would hold disease was destroyed. Even the Indian dogs were shot. The Agent gave the people new clothing, and they were ordered to move to new land, further west. There they tried to rebuild the village. Rita knew Mother and Uncle Matthew would need money for new things. She went to THE BANK OF HUFFMAN, CHARLES, AND CONKLIN in Chandler, and withdrew her savings. She took out all she had, and sent the money to Mother by the Agent. She heard through him that Mother and Uncle Matthew were moving south to Prague to build a white man’s house on Mother’s allotment. Rita knew some day she would go to see them, but now she was too busy at the Agency. 58 Carol Rita Part Four Chapter Ten 1901 •Fall swept upon the country and the cold north wind scattered the brittle leaves across the open fields. The children at the Agency School hurried from building to building with the excitement of the new season. Many changes had occurred in the two years since the epidemic. Rita was now head seamstress. Since September, she had been rushed supervising the making of warm clothing for the new students. This year more children came to Agency School than ever before. The resistance against education had lessened when many of the old folks died, and the people moved from the villages to live on their individual allotments. Rita had seldom gone home during the past two years. She didn’t even go home for the important religious ceremony in which Father’s kinfolk adopted another man to take his place in the family. This ceremony sent Father’s soul to the Land of the Dead, and Rita and Mother no longer had to mourn. Rita had grown to like the white people, and for a long time she preferred to spend her free time visiting friends at Stroud and Chandler. For years she sought the companionship of white men, never going out with Indian men. Then a month ago, Angus McFarland returned from the East. Since then, Rita had given him all her attention and free time. Rita felt more comfortable with Angus than any other man she knew. She felt Angus understood her, because he was part Sauk. Rita 59 This afternoon Rita was in a hurry. Tonight, as on the past four Saturdays, Angus McFarland was coming to take her to a white man’s dance at Stroud. Rita put away the box of pins the girls had left lying on the long cutting table. Then she counted the flannel nightgowns she had out during the day. There were ten, enough for the students to start sewing on Monday. It would not be long now before the real cold winter would be here, and she must have warm clothing ready for all the children. She took the broom from behind the door, and started sweeping around the room. She stopped by the window and glanced out across the rolling prairie. From the hill where the school stood she could see for miles, but her interest fell to the yard below, where some girls were playing tag. She watched them. After a time, she saw the boys marching back from manual training class. They passed quickly, and Rita returned to her sweeping. She pushed the dust carefully ahead of her towards the door. She felt happy, and began to sing: The King of Love my Shepherd is, His goodness faileth never, I nothing lack if I am His, And He is mine forever. Her song was interrupted by soft footsteps coming to the sewing room. The door was pushed open and an old man put his head into the room, as if he were searching for someone. “Uncle Matthew, come in! Nobody’s here but me,” Rita exclaimed. “I’m glad you came. Sit over here by the cutting table, where we can talk.” Uncle Matthew inspected her from head to foot. Then he opened the blanket he was wearing and made himself comfortable on the wooden chair. “My niece is a grown woman. She is very beautiful. You are tall, like your Aunt Tabitha, but you are still round like your mother. You have lovely dark eyes. You are a very nice woman for a man to look at.” Uncle Matthew blushed and quickly changed the subject; according to Sauk tradition, he was not supposed to say such personal things to his niece. “You take care of all this? You have good work. I hope you are happy?” 60 Carol Rita Rita smiled at him and answered his questions. “Yes, I’m in charge of the sewing and mending. I like to sew. Do you remember when Mother and I used to make dresses for my squirrel doll? I’m always happy when I’m sewing, but I miss you. I wish you were here.” “I miss you, my child. I came because I have something to tell you. I’m growing old; it won’t be long now before I leave you. Many people died in the small pox epidemic. The older ones knew all about our religion and customs. Some of the younger people, like your Mother, never wanted to learn all that the old people had to teach, so many of our beliefs have gone to the grave, and many of our sacred objects were destroyed when the Agent burnt the village. It’ll be a long long time before the people know how many things were lost in the sickness. “There will be times later on in your life when you will find the need to talk to someone. You’ll want someone to help you to understand the old religion. I won’t be here, but in times like that you must talk to Abraham Garfield. He is about your age, but I have been teaching him all that I know about the religion of our people. I have given him the bundles of religious things that I received from the old people and have cared for ever since. I hid them, so they wouldn’t be burnt when the village was fired after the smallpox sickness. Abraham Garfield will help you, and he will be your friend. He has promised me. Will you promise to go to him, an will you promise to see that he receives my bundle of religious things after I am gone? He will keep them for you and it would be better that way.” “I promise you. I’ll go and talk with him, but I don’t remember him; it’s been so long since I have been with you. I was only little then, but I’ll go to him.” “Before we talk any more, let me go to my room down the hall and get some apples. You must be tired after the long trip from Prague.” Rita went down the hall to her room, and lifted the bowl of apples from the windowsill. She hurried back to Uncle Matthew before anyone could see her and disturb their talk. “I wanted to tell you this many times, but you were too small. Now that you are a grown woman, I want to tell you how you came to belong to Aunt Tabitha and me. I want you to know the truth about this before I die, so you won’t believe the things other folks say.” Rita listened intently to ever word the old man said. Rita 61 “It was the way of our people, when we lived back in Iowa and Kansas, for a young man to marry an older woman; in that way he would learn. I married your aunt after she no longer could have children, but still we wanted a child. Your aunt loved me and I loved her. She fasted and prayed to God until she grew weak, and still we didn’t have any child. I was afraid your aunt would die, so I went to your mother. She was a young woman then. She had just married your father, who was much older. She was with child, and it wouldn’t be long before her time would come. She said your father might not take the child for his own. She knew the child belonged to him, but he didn’t feel certain. She asked me to speak to your father and ask for the child. I did what she wished. Your father promised if the child was a girl he would give it to your aunt, his sister, and me. “When you were born, your Mother almost died. The midwife said she would never have any more children, but your father kept his promise and gave you to us. We always lived together as one family.” Rita sat and listened. Doubt crept over her. Who? Who did she really belong to? After a while Rita reached for the old man’s hand and whispered, “I’ll always belong to you, Uncle Matthew, and to Aunt Tabitha. I guess I kinda loved Father, but somehow I never was close to him. I don’t feel like I belong to Mother. I never felt like that. She doesn’t want me. She wants Millie.” “Your Aunt Millie is coming home from Kansas City.” “Millie coming back here! Who’s going to look after her? Where will she get any money?” “Your mother came up here in the spring to go to the hearing about your father’s allotment. The Government said the land belonged to you and your Mother. She asked them to write to Washington to let her sell your father’s land, so she could use the money to buy cattle and build a barn on her own place. They said it would be all right if you signed the papers too. She got the money, and we have some cattle already. She’s fixing a barn, and putting a room on the house for Millie. You signed the papers, she said. I thought you knew all about it.” Rita’s mind raced back to the government notice. She remembered that it said something about anyone who was related to Father should come to the Agency at a certain time. She forgot the time, except that it was the same day she had agreed to go to Chandler with a young man from Stroud. She hadn’t thought the Government was going to do anything to Father’s land. 62 Carol Rita Rita sat there thinking, while she twisted a piece of sewing thread around her finger until the tip grew white. She untwisted the thread and watched the color return to her finger. The paper to sell the land! She began to remember: it was about the time the children’s gardens were halfway grown. The Agent had called her into his office, soon after she returned from Chandler. He handed her several long papers and asked her to write her name on them. She wanted to read them, but she was in a hurry to help the Minister’s wife prepare for a picnic supper. The Agent told her the papers would help Mother get some money too. He said something about Mother having received permission from Washington to sell a little piece of land near the blackjack grove. Rita had thought it all sounded kinda funny, but she signed the papers because the Agent said he needed them. Uncle Matthew pushed his chair out into the middle of the room. He rose, draped his blanket around his body, and started to move toward the door. Rita looked at the schoolroom clock. It was after five, and she would have to hurry if she was going to dress and be ready in time to go to the dance with Angus. She took the old man’s arm and helped him own the stairs, through the parlor, out of the building, and down the path to his carriage. He had come alone; it would be dark long before he reached home. Rita hoped he’d be all right. Rita 63 Chapter Eleven 1902 Rita felt tired when the long winter ended. There had been a great deal of illness at the Agency School. Often she had to leave the sewing room to replace a sick teacher or help tend ailing students. Her only relaxation was on Saturday night, when she went to the white man’s dance at Stroud with Angus McFarland. There had been little time for any visiting, least of all for visiting Uncle Matthew and Mother. She learned about her family through the Doctor or the Minister, when they returned from making their calls at Prague. Millie had come from Kansas City shortly after Uncle Matthew’s visit in the fall. Uncle Matthew had been ill all winter and the Doctor didn’t believe he would recover. Rita grieved at this news. She remembered what Uncle Matthew had said when she had last seen him. He had been ready to go then. Now it was spring, and the warm air and clean sunshine coaxed the students and teachers out for the damp, musty school buildings. Classes were held outdoors, under the pecan or black walnut trees. The children planted their practice gardens, striping the ground with rows of newly turned red earth. In the mid-afternoons people gathered at the trader’s store. The children bought candy and then went outside to gather in little groups to compare their purchases. The older boys and girls sat under the shade of the big elm tree, and flirted. Older people came to trade. The men brought carved wooden bowls, and handmade silver ornaments; the woman beaded belts and beaded headbands and ribbon appliqué skirts and blankets. Everyone needed food, wire to repair their fences, shores for their horses, or something else. Their accounts with the trader had run high during the winter, and nobody would have money until the treaty annuity payment in June. Rita enjoyed visiting the store, after the loneliness of the long winter. There she saw old friends, heard all the gossip , and talked with Angus. He was now working in the trading post. This afternoon, when Rita entered the long wooden building, she noticed Angus standing by the hardware counter. He was talking to a strange white man. Rita smiled, and Angus motioned her to come over. 64 Carol Rita “This is Mr. Schultz, a neighbor of your mother’s.” Rita looked at the man and saw that his weather-beaten face was pulled tight with worry. “Your mother sent him down here after you. You got to go right away. Your Uncle Matthew died really early this morning. They’re going to sit up with the body tonight. They’ll hold the funeral tomorrow from the Grand Medicine Lodge. The new one that your mother had built on her place last fall. They use it for all the ceremonies now.” Rita stood without moving. She tried to adjust the words in her mind. “Uncle Matthew died.” Now she was all alone. She looked at Angus and hoped he understood her thoughts. “Get your things and go with Mr. Schultz. I’ll lend him a fresh horse and a lead horse. If you hurry you can make it before they are through with the evening ceremony – I’ll come down after we close the store,” Angus comforted. “I’ll stay with you and bring you back.” Rita gave Angus a grateful look, and hurried to the school, to tell the Agent. As she rushed across the road and up the path, she decided to take the black hat with the red rose, the one Uncle Matthew had bought her years ago when she came back from Chilocco Indian School. She had kept it like new, always safe in its white box. She knew Uncle Matthew would like her to wear it tomorrow to the funeral. The Sauk women could come in their old clothes, as was the Sauk custom, but she was going to dress up like a white woman. Rita and the white man were soon on the road headed southward to Prague. The farmer urged his horse forward and the horse moved steadily, as if he understood the urgency of his passengers. When they had left the Agency far behind, the white man started to talk. “I never knowed you before, but we moved next to your mother a year ago. I heard about you from your Uncle. He come with your mother to visit us. He was a good man. I bought some land from your mother, that patch by the blackjack and post oak grove, for grazing. There’s real good meadow next to the grove.” Rita was only half-conscious of his words. Her mind swung between blankness and reality. The farmer didn’t demand an answer; he seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice. “Your mother is a fine woman. We’re Germans by birth, but we been in this country quite a time. We come to Oklahoma Territory a year ago, and your mother helped us find land. We were just wandering around till we met up with Rita 65 her. She’s a good business woman, and smart! She’s a better farmer than most of the white men around these parts, and she knows more than any other Indian I’ve met. She helped my daughter when she was sick. She saved her life. She’s the finest neighbor we ever had. A fine woman!” Rita looked at him in bewilderment. He was talking about Mother; but that was not the woman she knew. The rest of the way to Mother’s the white man was quiet. Rita listened to the music of the country. She recognized the song Uncle Matthew had sung when they mourned for Aunt Tabitha: Where am I going? You are following the road, Death road. It was very dark when the wagon turned into Mother’s yard. Rita glimpsed a long board building with open sides just north of the main house. People were going in and out. “That must be the new Grand Medicine Society Lodge,” she thought, as she went into the house to find Mother. The large kitchen was crowded with kinfolks who nodded to her but didn’t speak. In the front room she saw Millie alone. “You took a long while getting here,” Millie greeted her. “Your mother’s out there in the Lodge with the body. The Fish Clan men came and dressed it this afternoon. They do that for the Thunder Clan. You know each clan has an opposite clan that tends to ceremonial things for it. You’ve been with white folks so long, I guess you don’t know much about Indians.” Rita looked at Millie. Millie had been in Kansas City, and had just come back; but already she was talking mean like that. Rita didn’t feel like arguing, not now. This was the first time Rita had seen Millie since her return, but she sure hadn’t changed. She went on and on, talking and talking about Kansas City. Rita listened to Millie, as the prayer songs for the dead floated into the room. Rita grew tired. “Come on,” she said, and she and Millie went out to the Grand Medicine Society Lodge. A cedar fire burnt at the west end of the Lodge, opposite the door. It cast strange shadows over the people who sat along the north wall, with the body. In Rita 66 the center of the Lodge a man beat a water drum and made the prayer songs for the people to sing. Some of their friends saw Rita and Millie standing in the door, and moved over, so they could sit next to Mother, near the body. Rita, who led the way around the Lodge, stopped in the northwest corner in front of the body. There was no coffin. Uncle Matthew lay on a brand new red blanket stretched on the ground. He was dressed in new moccasins, and a new breech-clout and leggins, with a new shirt and new garters and beaded arm bands. Rita looked into the thin yellow face, painted on the sides with black for his clan. She thought how much he must have suffered. She walked slowly past him and sat on the ground next to Mother. No one cried. Everyone sang the prayer songs until midnight. Then the drums stopped, and the people moved to the east side of the Lodge, or drifted out into the night to get ready for the burial which would take place in the early morning, before the sun was high. Death had taken Uncle Matthew on another road from the living. The women would soon start cooking the funeral meal of boiled beef and boiled chicken, corn, beans, pumpkin, corn pudding, fry bread, and fruit. The men would leave long before daybreak to prepare the grave. The noonday sun mustn’t see the body, or Uncle Matthew’s spirit would never reach the Land of the Dead. Rita, Mother, and Millie went into the house to get a little rest. Mother lay down on the brass bed in the front room. Millie dropped on a pallet on the floor. Rita sat on a straight wooden chair, and waited for someone to speak. She noticed that Mother looked tired. The strain of the winter months had brushed her black hair with gray, and her dark eyes were drawn. Mother lay still for a long time staring at the ceiling, and at last she spoke without moving her head. “I have all your uncle’s things over there, to be given away at the grave. Do you want any of them? You’re not supposed to take anything, or Uncle Matthew’s spirit will come back after you, and you could die. But you’ve been away so long, I don’t know what you believe.” Rita quickly replied, “I believe like Uncle Matthew taught me, and I want to do everything right. Give those things away. He didn’t have much, ‘cause Uncle Matthew believed in the old way, that a person shouldn’t have more than he needs.” Rita 67 “Before he died, your uncle told me he had been to Agency to see you. What did he say?” “We talked about different things. I don’t want to say what. If he’d wanted you to know he’d have said.” Rita thought she saw a little smile on Mother’s face. “You’re your Uncle Matthew’s closest kin. You can say what should become of all his things. You don’t know much of Indian ways, so I’m going to teach you, so you’ll know how to do things right. I’m going to tell you who should get his things.” Rita felt a chill run through her body. She never would understand Mother. “I don’t care what you do with any of them things except the bundles of holy objects. I want you to give them, all of them, and everything that goes with them, to Abraham Garfield. Uncle Matthew wanted him to have those religious things. I want to adopt Abraham Garfield to take Uncle Matthew’s place when we have the adoption ceremony.” Millie had listened to the conversation, and now she spoke. “Why does she want Abraham Garfield to get all those religious things? Matthew was my brother-in-law just like he was yours. I think I got something to say about what happens. “Millie, be still,” Mother scolded. “You got noth’n to say. You have things your way a lot of times. We gotta do what Rita wants about this.” The talk ended, and Mother dozed off to sleep. Rita went outside to look for Angus and sit under the sky until dawn. A little after daybreak Rita went back into the Lodge to be with the body. The fire had almost died away. It would not be long before they carried the body to the grave. As the morning grew bright, many people came to say goodbye to Uncle Matthew. Rita sat and watched them file past. There were the Agent and his wife, Angus and his pa, Mr. Schultz, and white farmer, and his wife and daughter. All the Sauk Indians who lived between Prague and Cushing came, and many other Indian people: Shawnee, Kiowas, Creeks and Pottawatomies. Uncle Matthew had lived a long time; he knew many people, and everyone loved him. The sun had risen a quarter of the way to its full height when the cooks called the mourners to eat. Outside the Lodge, the men had spread wagon sheets on the ground to form a long white tablecloth, and the food stood in wooden 68 Carol Rita bowls down the middle of the cloth. The people sat on the ground, on both sides of the cloth, with their feet twisted to one side under them, while they ate. The family, who stayed in the Lodge with the body were served first; then the others ate. No one spoke. No one cried. They ate with prayers in their hearts. The sun was beating down on the fresh earth. It sent the people who had finished eating to huddle in the little patches of shade around the house. The air was still. Everyone waited. At last Uncle Matthew’s body, wrapped in his new red blanket, was carried out of the west door of the Lodge to the farm wagon for the trip to his grave. Rita thought, as she saw the body leave the Lodge, of what Uncle Matthew had once told her, “A person enters life in the East. At middle life, or forty, he is in the South, and when he dies he has traveled to the West.” Rita was only twenty-one. She knew she had a long road to travel. She wondered what was ahead. She went into the house for her black hat and joined Mother and Millie in the surrey. The two women looked at Rita, dressed like a white woman, but no one spoke. The procession of wagons wound its way northward on the main road. About halfway to Agency, they turned East to the second terrace of the Deep Fork River where, in a large field of fresh Johnson grass, in front of a big cottonwood tree, the men had dug an oval-shaped hole about two feet deep. They lifted the body from the wagon and placed it in the hole in a sitting position, leaning against the tree. They bent Uncle Matthew’s head down on his chest and folded his hands across his stomach. The men who made the songs came forward and began to pray, while the people stood in clusters around the grave. No one cried. When he finished praying, the man who made the songs laid a small clean white cloth on the ground near the body, and motioned Rita and Mother to come forward. Mother placed a little holy tobacco on the cloth, looked for the last time at Uncle Matthew, and walked away from the grave, to stand behind the man who made the songs. Millie filed after Rita, and the other people followed her. When everyone had given tobacco, the man who made the songs folded the cloth and placed it in Uncle Matthew’s left hand. He moved to one side to let the other men cover the body to the waist with logs and bark. Uncle Matthew’s head was left uncovered except for the blanket, which was drawn tightly over his hear and face. Rita 69 The man who made the songs took up the bundles filled with Uncle Matthew’s worldly goods, and distributed them among the grave-diggers. Rita noticed a tall man about her own age, with short black hair and sparkling eyes, walk past her to receive a large bundle wrapped in buckskin. Mother nudged her – that was Abraham Garfield. The burial was over and the people left. Rita said goodbye to Mother. She promised to return for the adoption ceremony, which would send Uncle Matthew’s spirit to the Land of the Dead. Rita drove back to Agency School with Angus. At first they talked together about all the people and events of the last two days. As they traveled northward, their words grew fewer. The sun drew closer to the western horizon and a cool breeze swept the big prairie. Rita felt lonely; she moved closer to Angus. Her body felt the warmth of his and the feeling sent comfort to her heart. 70 Carol Rita Chapter 12 1902 The joy of the bright spring weather, the new life in the country, and her work at Agency School made Rita think less and less about Uncle Matthew’s death. Mother and Millie often came to see her. They needed to prepare for Uncle Matthew’s adoption ceremony. New clothes had to be made for Abraham Garfield, before he could take Uncle Matthew’s place in the family. At this religious ceremony the mourners and guests would have to be fed a steer and several dozen chickens would be needed. The women cooked and the men who served the food had to be paid with presents. And the man who made the songs always received many gifts. That is, if he thought the relatives were rich. Rita was thought to be – she worked at Agency. Again Rita drew her savings from the bank and gave the money to Mother. All Uncle Matthew’s clan were supposed to help provide for the ceremony. Some relatives gave yards of calico to be given to the special friends, who would dance and play ball in the religious ceremony. Other relatives contributed to the feast with money, dried corn, dried pumpkin, flour, lard, coffee, sugar, and canned goods. Each time Mother and Millie came to Agency, Rita felt her sorrow return. She felt she needed comfort from religion. She joined the Agent and his family, and other employees, in the little church adjoining the Agency grounds. There, during the Protestant service, she silently made her Indian prayers. Spring brought new vigor to the social life of Agency. White settlers came to visit the Agent and his family. Picnics and square dances were held. The young people flirted and courted; the men exchanged news of the Kansas City cattle sales; the women swapped recipes, new fashion ideas, and opinions on the operas and theatricals which toured the young cities of the territory. The Indians came, too. They came to see the Agent about peers from Washington; or to settle the affairs of relatives who had died; to secure purchase orders for new horses and wagons; to beg for the return of children from schools in the east; and to discuss other elements in their lives which came under the supervision of the Government. Rita 71 They came to the trading store to buy calico, ribbons, beads, and broadcloth, from which to make new clothes for their summer ceremonies and social gatherings. For some Indians, money was scarce, and they traded white-tail deer hides, which they had gathered on their winter hunts, for the necessaries of their summer life. The Indians too held social get-togethers. The young people courted; men exchanged news of hunting and farming; women gossiped about clothes and recipes, and relatives and friends; political alliances were made between clans and tribes, and plans were laid for the summer’s social and religious events. This spring afternoon, as on most afternoons when the weather was good, Rita strolled down to the trading store to see if she had received any mail. Perhaps there would be a letter from an old school friend at Chilocco, or one for Millie telling about the preparations for the adoption. She received very little mail, but it always made her feel important, just like white folks, to inquire for it. Rita held her head high and swept into the store. She sailed up to the little mail window, only to receive a shake of the head from the postmistress. As Rita turned away, she noticed Angus standing by the candy counter. She remembered the five pennies which rested in the bottom of her purse. She would buy some candy. “Hello,” she greeted Angus. “Can I have a nickle’s worth of candy? I want them horehounds.” “Sure you can have some. I wanted to talk to you,” he said, as he filled the little paper bag to the brim with candy. “I gotta go to Guthrie on business. I gotta pick up some things that came in up there on the railroad. I was kinda thinking maybe you could get Agent to give you some time off, and go with me. I’d pay your hotel bill. It won’t cost you a cent.” Rita looked at him steadily. “You want me to go with you? You’ll pay my way? What for?” “They’re gonna have the Gentry Brothers Show up there on April the 16th or 18th, I don’t know which but I’ll find out. They got the world’s best trained animals and they’re gonna have a big parade. I’d like you to see the show with me. Did you ever see anything like that?” “NO, I never did. I’d sure like to. But what’ll I tell Agent? I guess I don’t have to tell him anything. He said I could have my vacation time after I got the girls’ cotton dresses made, and they’ll be done in a few days. When I come back 72 Carol Rita I could make the boys’ shirts. I could take a few days less tiem down in Prague at the adoption. “With you paying my way and all, it’s a good chance for me to help Mother, and get some fancy cloth and ribbons and special things I can’t buy here. Why I just gotta go, ‘cause the presents at Uncle Matthew’s adoption must be better than them other folks give away. “I’ll need a new dress to go to Guthrie. You think he’ll let me have some cloth on credit until payment? I’ll need a few dollars so I can get those things for Mother. You think he might let me have some money? I know he charges more when he lets goods and money go ahead of time like that, but this time I need it. Besides I don’t owe him anything.” Angus chuckled at her deluge of words. “Yah, he’ll let you have what you want. I’ll give the cloth now and you can get the money when we’re ready to go. What kind of cloth you want?” “I saw Mrs. Whistler, that rich rancher’s wife, wearing a pretty cotton with little stripes on it. You got something like that?” Angus lifted a large bolt of green calico from the shelf behind the notions counter. “You like this? I think it’s pretty! Chief Keokok’s wife got some.” “It looks too Indian to me. I want something more like rich white women wear. Do you know what Mrs. Whistler bought for her daughter? Over there on the second shelf – see that thin-striped cloth? Let me see it.” Angus unrolled a new bolt of fawn-colored gingham with thin blue stripes running through it. Together they looked reflectively at the fabric. “It’s beautiful,” Rita commented. “I’ll take five yards of this. You like it?” “It’ll look nice on you. You’ll look just like a white lady with your fair skin and brown hair.” Angus measured off the cloth and smiled. “Now let me see the buttons. I’ll need six of them for the shirt-waist front and one for the waist band and four for the cuffs. And a little piece of lace for the collar. These’ll do.” Rita decided, as she flipped through the cards of buttons on the counter and selected a thin strip of lace form a remnant pile. With her package tucked safely under her arm, she hurried out of the store, across the road, and up the hill to the girl’s dormitory and her room. Locking the door, Rita pulled open the dresser drawer, and took out a folded copy of the St. Louis paper, which she had begged from the Agent’s wife. There, on the page looking up at her, was the dress – fitted tightly through the bodice Rita 73 and waist, it sprang to a long full skirt. Without further thought for her school sewing, Rita began to cut the pages of the newspaper into a dress pattern. She worked steadily into the night, stopping only for supper and to supervise the girls in cleaning up the dining room. It was midnight when she crawled into bed; the dress was all cut out and the bodice was basted. The next day and the day after that she worked on the dress, in every spare moment she could find. At last it was done, only now she realized that she would have to make arrangements for her time off. At night, alone in her room, she rehearsed in her mind what she would tell the Agent. “I’ve a chance to go to Guthrie with Angus. I want some time off.” No, that wouldn’t do. Agent won’t like her just going off with a man like that. Was it really right for her to go with Angus and let him pay her way? What would folks think of her? Would they think she was kinda married to him? Indians would. These white folks at Agency, they were funny. They might think she was doing something wrong. Why, she had to go, to get cloth, and ribbons, and maybe some perfume, which she would keep for herself. Mother would be pleased she bought special things for adoption. She would get an extra blessing form God for all the beautiful gifts she would contribute to the adoption. She didn’t need a whole week with Mother at the time of the ceremony. A few days would do just as well. When she stayed with Mother too long they usually argued. She just had to go. It was necessary and right. Going with Angus was a good way to get a ride to Guthrie for the shopping she must do. And finally Rita fell off to sleep. The next morning Rita went to the Agent and explained how a trip to Guthrie was necessary to purchase extra-fine things for the adoption ceremony. She mentioned, casually, that she had a ride with Angus McFarland, who just happened to be going on the following Tuesday. Agent agreed that Rita might have a week off. Then Rita went to the trading store, to make the necessary plans with Angus, and to borrow twenty dollars against her account. The following Tuesday Rita and Angus drove the trader’s buckboard, with the lead team tied to the back, northward toward Cushing and Guthrie. Rita smelt the freshness of the early morning light as it coaxed the moisture from 74 Carol Rita the gramma grass. She watched the rays of sunshine dart form the red earth and sparkled through the warm air. Rita and Angus talked little as they watched the robins, bluejays and meadow larks skim the earth, looking for bits of grass to pad their new homes. Rita thought the whole world was dividing into couples, and from these unions would come a new world. This was life, and she was happy to be a part of it. Their trip was hastened because the Deep Fork of the Canadian River was low enough for them to ford. The firm red clay roads allowed the horses and buckboard to move easily over the rolling prairie. At noon they stopped at Camp Creek and ate their dinner of cold school bread, boiled beef, yellow cheese, and raw onions, which Rita had brought. Then they moved northward. That evening they stayed with the Iowa Indians friends of Angus’ west of Cushing. Rita felt sad when they arrived because the trip had brought back memories of Haskway Village. She spent much of the evening talking about the old times at the Village. The Iowa family remembered visiting at Haskway. Suddenly Rita’s body was cold with fear. Did these folks know Mother? Would they tell her about Rita and Angus? Rita would rather tell Mother herself, than have other people talking about her. The next morning they started at sunrise and drove all day, stopping at noon to eat dinner by the side of the road. It was long after dark when Angus guided the buckboard down the main street of Guthrie. Rita, tired and excited, brushed the dust from her everyday blue cotton shirt and straightened the fine-tucked white blouse under her shawl. Angus looked at her and smiled. “We made pretty good time getting here. You go with me to the livery stable down the street from the hotel. A little walk will feel good. Besides it’s been a long while since you’ve been to Guthrie. You can see something of the town at night that way.” “It all looks so different since last time I was here. That was when I came back from Chilocco.” “I don’t guess they had so many saloons in those days. Besides, you were little then. There are lots more people in Guthrie now. Why it’s one of the biggest cities in Oklahoma Territory.” Rita 75 Rita nodded in agreement, and gave her attention to the people moving along the streets. She saw mostly roughly-dressed men, but every now and then she was able to catch a glimpse of a woman hanging on the arm of a smartly-suited man. Out of the saloons faint sounds of music floated into the night. Rita wondered if all of Guthrie was like the main street. She guessed not. The more quiet citizens must live on the side streets, and go to church on Sundays like the Agent and his family. “Here we are,” Angus said, turning the horses into the large livery stable. “The hotel is about a half a block west of here. It’s real nice. White folks stay there and some Indians too. You’ll like it.” “Oh, help me down. My legs are stiff. I’ll wait right here while you see to things. It’s not nice for a lady to go into the stable part, that’s for men folks.” Angus helped Rita to the ground and placed their belongings beside her, just inside the stable door. Then he led the horses deep into the barn. She passed the time of waiting for Angus by watching the people walk by. The stares of the strange men made her feel uneasy. She was glad when she saw Angus hurrying back to her. Together, they walked to the hotel. At the hotel Angus rented two rooms, across the hall from each other. The memory of her first experience in Guthrie, when she couldn’t find the toilet, returned to her in the dim lights of the long hall as they were taken to their rooms. This time Rita asked the clerk where she could find the ladies’ toilet. Alone in her room, Rita looked under the bed and in the wardrobe – you never could tell what bad things might be hiding in a place like this. She remembered reading in the newspapers about the terrible crimes that happened in hotels in the big cities of the east. Finding nothing to frighten her, she prepared for bed and a peaceful sleep, away from the duties of Agency School. In the morning Rita was awakened by a knock on the door. “Who’s there?” she called sleepily. “It’s me,” Angus assured her. “Hurry up. Get ready. Let’s go eat and get a good place on the street for the circus parade. It’s going to start at ten o’clock and it’s past eight now.” Rita rolled over in bed and looked out of the window. The day was clear. She would have to hurry if she was to see the parade and do all that shopping for Mother. After all, the shopping was what she really came to do. 76 Carol Rita “I’ll be ready in a little while. You go out on the porch and wait. I want to go down to the hall to the bath. You go out front so you can’t see me until I’m ready.” “All right,” Angus laughed. Rita stayed in bed until she heard his footsteps go down the corridor. Then she got up, gathered her clean clothes in her arms, being careful not to crease her second best gingham dress, and went down the hall to the ladies’ bath. In about half an hour, Rita met Angus on the porch of the Hotel. Together they went to the restaurant across the street. Without looking at the menu Angus ordered two fried eggs, ham, hominy grits, and red eye gravy. Rita studied the menu carefully, and, after due consideration, while the waitress glared at her, chose hot cakes with sausage and plenty of that sweet syrup to pour over them. While they waited for their food they each drank two cups of strong black coffee, loaded with free sugar. After Angus had finished his meal and carefully wiped his plate clean with the last piece of absorbent white bread, he began to plan their day. “We can go out now and watch the parade. In the afternoon I’ll go over and get the stuff for the trader, from the railroad office. You wanta come with me?” “You go get the trader’s things and I’ll go buy the things for Mother and the adoption. Like that, we’ll both get what we come after. When’ll we go see the circus? I’m kinda looking forward to seeing those sacred cattle they advertised.” “We can go see the show tonight. We gotta leave tomorrow ‘cause I gotta get back. I forgot to tell you, the trader wants me to come right back. He needs the things I’m to pick up. “Besides, I have to get the Indian’s accounts in order so we can collect our bills when they receive their payment checks. You know how the trader does when he cashes the payment checks – he takes out his money for the account and gives the Indian what’s left.” “The Agent gave me a week and a couple of extra days off. I thought we was going to stay here a few days. I don’t think it was nice of you not to tell me. How am I gonna get all the things I have to do done, for Mother?” “Come on. We gotta get a place out there to see the parade. You can get all the stuff for your Mother while I’m at the railroad station. The Agent won’t care if you come back early. In fact, it’ll look fitting and proper. I’ll take you dancing in Stroud on Saturday night, to make up for it. Come on.” Rita 77 Without waiting for her to answer, Angus got up, paid the bill, and started out of the restaurant. Rita followed reluctantly, swallowing her disappointment. Angus was just like all other Sauk men. He went ahead and did things without thinking how the womenfolks might feel. Angus found them a place to stand in the shade, under the porch of the dry goods store. Off in the distance Rita heard the beat of the drum as the paraders lined up. The band appeared at the head of Main Street. They swung forward playing The Stars And Stripes Forever. Rita thought their brilliant red uniforms trimmed with gold were beautiful. Then came the sacred creamy-colored cattle with their humped backs and square low-hanging heads. Like other cattle Rita had seen, they had rings through their noses, from which ropes were tied to lead them. She wondered if the sacred cattle ate hay every day, like Mother’s cows. Now came the trained dogs, dressed in funny hats and little coasts and skirts. They stopped in front of the dry goods store, where the crowd was thickest, and jumped through hoops and chased bells. The more the crowd cheered the more the dogs wanted to perform, but their trainers hurried them forward to catch up to the rest of the parade. Four large elephants followed. Two monkeys rode on each of them. Rita’s face jumped with joy when the ponies, wearing plumed hats, pranced by on their hind legs. It was a long parade, with little camels, more elephants, clowns, and large wagons carrying the acrobats and other performers. At the end came the calliope playing, Over The Waves. “That sure was good,” Angus remarked as the last chords of the music drifted away towards the great plains. “Yeh, I bet the show’ll be real nice tonight. Let’s go over there to that ice cream parlor and get some pink phosphate.” Angus went first across the street. It was crowded with milling people, horses and buggies. Every now and then he stopped and looked back, to be sure Rita was still behind him. Just like an Indian, she thought again. Inside the busy ice cream parlor they managed to find a little marble-topped table, and settle themselves on the tiny round wooden seats of the bent wire chairs. Angus ordered pink phosphate, and asked the waitress to put two cherries in each glass. 78 Carol Rita Between sips of the cool fizzy drink, Rita spoke. “You go get the trader’s things at the railroad office. I’ll stay here and look in the stores and get the things for Mother. You come back soon as you can. I’ll be right here on the main street or at the hotel. You can find me.” “It’s hard saying how long I’ll be. Sometimes them men think I’m Indian. Then I gotta wait a long while. If they think I’m a white man, then they get the things unloaded for me right away.” “I don’t know how they can tell the difference. I guess it’s your skin. Some folks are just funny. “You won’t go with any of them men into those saloons and get whisky! Will you?” “I don’t drink whisky, except once in a while. I’ll come straight back and get you.” “I get scared, ‘cause Agent and some of them white folks at Agency, they say when Sauk men come up here they get drunk. Some of them have been killed. Sometimes Indian men get to gambling with those white men, and lose all their money. You kinda gotta watch out. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Angus smiled and got up from his chair. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for you as quick as I can. I don’t want to gamble or drink today, ‘cause we’re going to the circus tonight.” Outside the ice cream parlor Rita watched Angus walk towards the livery stable. “He sure was a good man,” she thought. Then she gave her attention to the wonders of the stores. She went back across the street to the dry goods store, where she peered through the window at ladies’ silk blouses, shoes, hats, dresses and bolts of cloth. After a little while Rita went into the dim light of the store, stepping cautiously to keep the squeaking floor from calling attention to her. In spite of this effort, a pleasant looking middle-aged woman turned and offered to help her. Together they looked at the new fabrics. Rita thought the colors were beautiful, and selected a pretty delft blue print for herself, a green print for Mother, and, feeling extravagant, she got a red print for Millie. After all, they were reduced from $1.50 a yard to 70 cents. The silk remnants were displayed on the long center counter. Here Rita chose all shades of red, blue, yellow and green. At 25 cents a yard she could be lavish. The trader, at Agency, charged $1.00 a yard for silk not half as fine. Rita 79 Rita spent a long time looking at the beautiful broad-brimmed hats, with their colorful flower decorations. She thought maybe she would buy one, but then decided not to. She really couldn’t afford a new hat, not with the adoption and everything. Besides, she still had the hat Uncle Matthew had bought her years ago and the styles really hadn’t changed that much. Her hat was prettier than any of these. At the shoe counter, she saw a handsome pair of black patent leather high-button shoes. They sure were pretty, and would look lovely with her new dress. She moved to the side of the store near the door, where the sales lady couldn’t see her, and counted the money in her purse. She still had $10.00 left, and the shoes were only $5.00. She would treat herself to them. Quickly she returned to the shoe counter and tried on the shiny shoes. They felt a little stiff but they were so pretty! She bought them. Rita left the store, and wandered up and down the main street. At each store window she stopped and looked in. In a jewelry store she gazed at gold brooch watches and silver belt buckles. She wished she had enough money to buy a gold brooch watch. In fact, she wished she had one like Mrs. Whistler’s with her name in diamonds on the case. Someday, if she married a rich man, he might give her a watch like that. Rita doubted if Angus would ever be rich. He just wasn’t ambitious. He seemed to be satisfied to go on working like he did for the trader. Down the south side of the street, and back along the north side, she moved past the shoemaker’s, the drugstore, and more dry good stores. Past many saloons, where she hurried a little but always managed to get a quick glimpse, through the swinging doors, at the inside. It was almost five o’clock when Rita returned to the hotel, and looked for Angus. When she did not see him, she went to her room and prepared to bathe again. Her feet hurt from walking on the hard pavement. And besides, it was nice to lie in the big tub with the warm water coming from the faucet to keep you comfortable. At six o’clock Rita strolled into the lobby, wearing her new gingham dress and her new high buttons shoes. She installed herself in a big leather chair by the grandfather’s clock, where everyone could see her and she could see everyone. A few minutes later Angus appeared, dressed in a black suit, with the top button of the jacket closed across his broad chest. Rita thought he was very handsome in his celluloid collar and dark blue bow tie. He looked like a white man, but more distinguished. 80 Carol Rita “I come back about an hour ago and the man at the desk told me you’d gone to your room, so I went down the street to the barbers’ and then came back and changed my clothes. It sure was dirty over at that railroad station. They had a trainload of cattle going out to Kansas City. You ready? Let’s go eat.” Rita rose majestically, wrapped her black shawl over her shoulders and took Angus’ arm. He hadn’t admired her new dress, but she could see her reflection in the mirror at the end of the lobby. She knew she looked beautiful. They went to the same restaurant where they had eaten breakfast. Rita wanted to go to the one up the street where the white people ate, not to this one which catered to cowhands and Indians. But she didn’t know how much moneh Angus had. Again Rita studied the menu carefully and finally ordered fried chicken with hominy grits. Angus preferred stew. He said it reminded him of boiled beef and corn, like his Grandma used to fix. Rita didn’t agree; they seemed very different to her, but she knew men folks get strange ideas. Rita stared at all the people in the restaurant. There were very few women; mostly men away from home. She wondered what all these people were doing in Guthrie. Perhaps they came to see the Territorial Governor. Maybe they were with the railroad, or were looking for land to build homes and bring their families to the Territory, like the white folks who came to Stroud during the opening in 1891? Angus spoke, and called her attention back to the restaurant. “Did you get all the shopping done for your Mother?” “Yah, I got lots of things. I got some beautiful cloth, and some ribbons, and silk. I walked up and down the street looking at everything and everybody. I had a good time. You got the stuff for the trader?” “Yah, I got the stuff. All of it didn’t come in, only some of it. It’s a good thing only the small stuff got here. That’s just like the trader not to tell me he expected an order of coffins. I don’t know where we would have put them in that buckboard. When I come up for them, I’ll have to drive the big farm wagon. “Them men, they made me wait some. I didn’t get a chance to do much else. “I met a fellow I used to know at Carlisle Indian School and I went and had a beer.” Rita’s face grew tight with concern. Rita 81 “Now, don’t get scared, I only had a short one. Just a nickel beer. This fellow, he told me, last night he played faro; I don’t know how you play it, but anyway he got took for all his money.” Rita didn’t answer. She hurried and finished her supper. Then she sat with her hands folded in her lap and waited for Angus. “You ain’t mad at me, are you?” Angus asked, picking up the check and letting Rita pass by him to go to the door. “No, I ain’t mad. I’m just kinda hurt.” Outside, Angus took Rita’s arm and guided her down the street towards the empty lot where the circus tent was pitched. Suddenly Rita stopped short and looked at him. “I don’t care what you do. I come up here for a good time and I’m going to have it. I’m gonna enjoy the show. I just think a person should be proud of himself and want to get along in the world. I don’t understand you working hard for the trader and taking what little money you have and buying beer.” Angus looked hard at her. He stopped to the side of the walk to let some people pass, then he spoke softly. “I think a lot of myself and I think a lot of you. I done other things today too, besides get a beer. I got you this.” Angus thrust a small white box into her hand. Rita was startled. She opened the little box, to find a beautiful silver belt buckle, just like the ones she had seen in the store. She looked at Angus in wonderment. He always seemed to do something nice, right after you began thinking he was bad. “It’s beautiful. Tonight, when we get back to the hotel, I’m going to fix it on my belt. I’ll always wear it and remember the good time we had. I guess we’re kinda excited. That’s why we keep fussing at each other. Let’s hurry, so we can get a good seat.” Rita carefully tucked the little box containing the buckle in her hand bag, and together they went down the street to the circus tent. Inside the crowded tent, Angus saw some seats way up near the roof. Rita was a little afraid to climb so high in her full skirt and slippery new shoes, but Angus steadied her upwards. He bought them each a big bag of popcorn. They sat close together, munched the popcorn, and looked down at all the people and the big dirt ring. A tall man, wearing a coat with long tails and carrying a big whip, appeared in the center of the ring. The show was on. 82 Carol Rita The band marched into the tent, again playing The Stars And Stripes Forever. Once around the ring. Now the elephants were carrying pretty girls, monkeys, and trained dogs. The sacred cattle, the ponies, everything they had seen in the street parade marched past. This evening they all wore different costumes. The expectation of the evening performance filled their every motion. Rita giggled at the monkeys playing ball. She thought the trained dogs were sure cute when they jumped through the hoops and climbed ladders. The trapeze artist performing high above the floor scared her, and she shut her eyes in terror. The magician, with his slight-of-hand tricks, held the crowd spellbound. He turned colored silk handkerchiefs into little chicks, and burning candles became flower pots. He made coins disappear from his hand, only to reappear from his mouth. This made Rita think of what she remembered about the ceremony in the Grand Medicine Society Lodge. The show was very long, and packed with thrills. When the evening came to an end Rita’s face was red from the excitement. She didn’t speak as she and Angus inched their way out of the tent. She was trying to press the wonderful acts into her memory. Outside Angus stopped in front of the refreshment tent an bought them each an orangeade. As they stood in the light of the tent and sipped the cool liquid, Rita questioned Angus. “You see that magician? He scared me.” “Why’d he scare you? That’s all make believe. He does it so fast you can’t see him move his hands. When I was at Carlisle we went into Philadelphia once and I saw a fellow do the same thing on the stage. He was even smarter than this one.” “I guess you understand these things better, ‘cause you went to school in the east. But he scared me. You wanta know why?” “Yah. Them folks hanging on the trapeze scared me. Why, they could fall and kill themselves. Nothing could happen to that magician fellow.” “When I was real small, long ago before I knew you, I went with Aunt Tabitha; she raised me when I was little; to one of them Grand Medicine Society ceremonies. The old people sang one of them religious songs. I don’t know the whole thing but the beginning goes like this. “God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in me.’ Then they take that sacred shell – have you ever seen it?” Angus shook his head no. Rita 83 “Well, it’s just a little round long shell, and they put it in their mouths and swallow it. You got to be in the Grand Medicine Society a long while before you can do it. It’s mostly the old folks that can do it. They swallow the shell. Then they dance around the lodge, and when they stop dancing, they vomit up the shell. I mean, it comes right back up and nothing else comes with it. They’re supposed to keep the shell in their bodies all the time. I guess they swallow it again. I don’t know.” “I never did see them do that. I’ve heard tell of it, but nobody takes me into the Grand Medicine Society ceremonies ‘cause my father was a white man and my Grandma didn’t belong. She believed in that drum religion, but they don’t do nothing like that.” Angus paused a moment. “You mean they swallow it, like I eat my dinner, and then they make it come back up whenever they want to?” “Yah, that’s just what they do. Do you think maybe it’s magic, like that man did tonight with them coins, making them disappear from his hands and come out his mouth, or do you think it’s real deep down religion, like they say?” “I don’t know,” Angus puzzled. “Them things are always hard for me. I was raised up in the Protestant church.” “Let’s go back to the hotel. I sure liked the show, and those girls that rode on them ponies were pretty.” This time Angus took Rita’s hand and they walked down the street to the hotel, close together. The next day it was almost noon before Angus drove the buckboard with the lead horses tied at the back, down the main street of Guthrie, towards the Agency. Rita sat beside him. She felt happy and a little older and wiser from her experience in the city. On the trip back they decided not to spend the night with the Iowa Indian family, as they had first planned, but made camp beside the road. It took Angus and Rita two nights to reach Agency. They didn’t hurry. They had been gone six days, returning a day earlier then Rita had told the Agent that she would. And, as Angus had said, Agent was pleased to see her. Everyone thought she was a proper young woman. 84 Carol Rita Chapter 13 1902 After Rita returned to Agency her whole life centered around her work in the sewing room. There were new shirts to be made for the boys, many pairs of socks and cotton stockings to be darned, pants to be mended, and buttons to be replaced on coats and dresses. Rita was anxious to finish all the sewing before she left for the adoption. She worked her students hard, sometimes getting cross at them for laughing and talking together while they sewed. Her nights were lonely, because she didn’t go out with Angus again after they came back to Stroud. She wanted to go very much, but was afraid the white folks at Agency would talk about her. Or the Indians would see her and tell Mother. Three weeks after their return from Guthrie, Rita and Angus drove southward to Mother’s house and the adoption ceremony. They left Agency after Rita had finished work, and drove late into the night. At last they made camp in a secluded spot, off the main road. Early the following evening they arrived at Mother’s place. As soon as Angus stopped the buggy, Rita took her splint basket full of gifts and went into the house. Mother and Millie and a few kinfolk were sitting around the kitchen table, finishing their supper and talking. Rita stood quietly by the door and waited until Mother greeted her. Mother continued to listen until Millie had finished speaking, then she turned to Rita. “Come in, come in. Have some supper. Millie, clear the dishes away and get clean plates. I’ve been expecting you all day. Who brought you?” “Angus brought me. He went to put the horses out in the barn,” Rita said, setting herself on the wooden kitchen hair behind the table and facing the door. “I wanted to get down here a few days earlier, but there was so much work at school that I couldn’t get finished any sooner. I guess you folks must have most everything ready for the ceremony tomorrow evening.” “We got everything ready.” Millie answered. “It’s been hard, making all them men’s clothes and getting all the food and finding someone to go around and invite the cooks. We got it all done now, so there won’t be much for you to do.” Rita 85 “Millie, heat that soup for Rita and Angus. Never mind about all the work we did. Rita knows about adoptions. You don’t have anything else to do anyway.” Angus came in, and Mother stopped talking to shake hands with him. One of the other women made fresh fry-bread and now she brought it, with the hot soup to the table. Rita and Angus ate and listened to Mother tell all about the preparations for the ceremony. When she had finished eating, Rita reached in her basket and withdrew the green silk she had bought for Mother. “I had a chance to go to Guthrie and I got you this.” Mother took the cloth, with a surprised expression on her face, and placed it on the chest of drawers that stood near the kitchen table. “I got this red silk for you,” Rita said to Millie. “I thought maybe you could make a new blouse for the First Fruits dances.” Millie grabbed the silk cloth, and laid it aside as Mother had done. Then both women shook hands with Rita to thank her for their presents. Rita, deliberately, took out the silk and colored ribbons and cotton cloth which she had purchased and gave them to Mother. “I got these to give away at the adoption ceremony,” she announced. Mother took the things from Rita and laid them on the top of the big dresser, which stood against the kitchen wall opposite the stove. Then Mother lit a coal oil lamp, and motioned for Rita to follow her into the front room. As the light from the lamp filled the room Rita saw lying on the floor dress lengths of calico, pairs of moccasins, many blankets, shawls and ribbon appliqué leggings, breech-cloths, and beaded belts, garters, and arm bands. All were gifts for the adoption ceremony. “You sure got a lot of pretty things here,” Rita observed. “We got more things to give away at this adoption than any of the folks have had as long as I can remember. I think that it is only right and fitting for us to have all these things, ‘cause your Uncle was a big man in the tribe. Rita nodded her head in agreement. Without waiting for her to speak, Mother turned and went back into the kitchen and started to talk with Angus and the other guests. Rita stayed in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, and wondered if Uncle Matthew would have really liked having all this show of gifts. She remembered, one time, he had said the old people didn’t have such large feasts and give away such 86 Carol Rita lavish gifts as the young folks were doing. Rita knew it was best to let Mother do things her way, this time. The rest of the evening they sat around the kitchen table and talked. Other relatives and friends dropped in for visits, and pleasant conversation wore away the hours. Early the next morning, two days before the adoption ceremony, Mother and Rita went to invite the man who made the songs to come to the ceremony. In keeping with their tradition, they took him presents of a chicken and Indian tobacco. They knew, according to Sauk tribal customs, when he accepted their gifts he couldn’t refuse their request. The woman cooks arrived in the mid-afternoon, before the evening ceremony. The man who made the songs said a prayer, and lit the holy cooking fire of blackjack wood with his sacred flints. Rita watched the cooks cut the steer and place just enough meat for dinner to boil in a brass kettle over the fire. All the work was done by the Fish Clan people, who served the Thunder Clan at religious ceremonies. Rita was still in mourning; she was not supposed to work. When the sun began to move to the west, Mother called Rita to go with her to invite Abraham Garfield, to be adopted into Rita’s family. They drove east for about a quarter of a mile; then Mother guided the horses up a rutted lane to his house. They found Abraham, sitting alone under a big walnut tree, smoking his pipe. Rita offered him some Indian tobacco and invited him to be adopted into her family, to take Uncle Matthew’s place. Abraham accepted by taking the tobacco, and went into the house to prepare to come to the ceremony. By the time Mother and Rita reached home to wait for Abraham Garfield, many Sauk Indians and some white friends had gathered in the yard. Rita saw Mr. Schultz and his wife and she went to speak with them. “I’m glad you folks came,” she said, shaking hands. “Thanks, Miss Borden. Your mother said we could come over tonight instead of tomorrow. We have to go to Guthrie on business early in the morning. We don’t know anything about the Indian ways and your Mother didn’t say what this was all about. Could you tell us something?” Rita 87 “I can tell you some, but most things they keep kinda secret. I’m Uncle Matthew’s only close kin, that’s why I have to put on this ceremony. Mother was Uncle Matthew’s sister-in-law, but that doesn’t count. Uncle Matthew stayed here with Mother so she’s making all the arrangements ‘cause she doesn’t think I know about the old ways. Mother really shouldn’t have anything to say but I don’t want to make her mad if she wants to do all this. “We believe differently than white folks. We have the funeral right away, the next day after someone dies. That’s the time we give the body back to Mother Earth, Our Grandmother. The adoption comes later, and that’s the ceremony that sends the spirit to the Land of the Dead. They can have the adoption anytime up to four years after somebody dies. If they don’t have the adoption within four years, your spirit will turn into an owl, and come back to haunt your kinfolks. That’s the way we believe.” “Miss Borden, I don’t understand. This ceremony is going to send your Uncle’s spirit to the Land of the Dead?” “Yes, that’s right. Tonight you’ll see the man I’ll adopt to take Uncle Matthew’s place in our family. He’ll be here for some of the prayers. Mother and the man who makes the songs will tell him what they want him to do tomorrow. Then he’ll go home, and all night Uncle Matthew’s spirit will be inside him. Tonight we’ll just have a small supper, but tomorrow morning early we’ll eat a big dinner. It will be the same as if we ate it with Uncle Matthew. “You see, it’s just as if Uncle Matthew was going on a trip. I’ll give the man I adopt in his place new clothes, and everything he needs to go away, like new moccasins, a new blanket and a suitcase. I’ll give him a bucket of food, so he can eat while he travels to the Land of the Dead. “I want Uncle Matthew to remember me, and I want him to have a good time before he goes away. People who were his special friends will dance, and play gambling games and shinny. It’s the same as if they were playing with Uncle Matthew. After we finish, the man I adopted to be my uncle will walk away to the west, and it will all be over. Uncle Matthew’s spirit will be gone, and I will be free from mourning.” “Miss Borden,” Mr. Schultz asked, “This man you adopt to take your Uncle’s place? Does he know about it? What does he do for you after he’s adopted?” “It’s kinda like this. He’s not supposed to know anything about it before we go to invite him. My mother and I just came from asking Abraham Garfield. But 88 Carol Rita you see, we don’t want him to go off somewhere, so we let him get the idea that we’ll come. Everybody is supposed not to know or say anything. Otherwise the bad spirits might find out, and get into the person who is going to be adopted, and catch Uncle Matthew’s soul. “This man I adopt, he’s supposed to be like my uncle to me. He’s supposed to take his place, so I won’t grieve anymore. He’s supposed to help me when I feel sad or need advice. Some folks take this real seriously. Other folks just go through the ceremony and forget all about it.” “Will your new uncle give your folks any presents in return for all the things you give him?” Mrs. Schultz inquired. “Yes, some time after the adoption, he’ll come to make a return visit. He has to wait at least two weeks before he can come. Then he visits us, and brings groceries and cloth. I don’t know when that will be. It’ll depend on when he gets enough money to buy the things. It’s expensive! We’ll have a little feast when he comes, maybe just one small pot of food. Not as much as tomorrow, when we have al those people to feed. Then it’ll just be his family, and ours.” Rita showed Mrs. Schultz the huge dishes of raw meat standing on the table by the cooking fire. Mrs. Schultz drew her eyebrows tight together and asked, “All that food! What happens to it?” “They’re getting ready for tomorrow when there will be lots of people. We try to get enough food for everyone to have plenty, but we don’t want to have any left over. We can’t take the food home or eat it again after the ceremony. It all has to be eaten. If any is left they burn it in the holy cooking fire. “In the ceremony tonight and tomorrow the man who makes the songs, and my mother, will take a pinch of food from each dish and give it to the fire. The fire and smoke carry the food to all the dead people. We want all our kinfolks who have passed on to eat with us, because we want them to know we remember them. If we didn’t give them food, they would grow hungry, cry, and suffer. We call this feast the Ghost Feast, because we feed the dead.” Rita looked across the yard and saw Abraham Garfield pull his horse to a stop. “I gotta go now. They’ll call you folks to come in and eat. Remember, whatever you take on your dishes you’ll have to eat. You’ll get a blessing from the food. Eat all you want, but don’t leave anything to be wasted, that might be bad on you.” Rita saw Mother and Abraham Garfield enter the Grand Medicine Society lodge and she followed. Inside, a cedar fire sent a smoky light out to fill the Rita 89 room. The man who made the songs motioned for them to sit on the ground at the east side of the fire, in front of the door. The kinfolks and guests sat along the other sides of the lodge. As many as could be were seated, and the others waited outside until there was room. No one spoke. The waiters placed large wooden bowls of food on the new wagon sheets that had been spread on the ground down the middle of the lodge. The man who made the songs took a pinch of food from each of the dishes and motioned Mother to come to the fire. They prayed together. Then Mother pushed the food and Indian tobacco into the fire to be carried to the Land of the Dead. Rita watched Abraham Garfield as he buried himself deep in prayer. She knew the spirit of Uncle Matthew when he mourned for Aunt Tabitha, many years ago, in the woods. Mother returned to her place, and the waiter brought a large food bucket full of water. Abraham Garfield took four little sips and passed the bucket to Mother who did the same and passed the water on, so everyone might receive a blessing. Water, a helper of God, gives life to the earth and must be honored before food may be eaten. Mother offered the food first to Abraham, then she helped herself and gave the bowl to Rita. Rita took a small helping, for she wasn’t really hungry. During the meal, Rita kept her eyes on Abraham Garfield. She liked the neatness of his short black hair and the cleanness of his white shirt. She thought he looked like a good man, and she wanted to know him. After supper, Abraham Garfield left to go home. All that night he would pray. All that night the spirit of another man would be in his body. People continued to go in and out of the lodge to eat, until all the food was gone. Mother had planned wisely and there was little extra left to be stuffed down some willing man or growing boy. Rita stood by the cook-shed and watched the people leave. Angus came to her, and together they walked down the road towards the country store. Rita was glad to be with Angus; his nearness filled the loneliness in her heart. The sun covered the earth with daylight when Abraham Garfield returned. He was dressed in a new breech-clout and leggins. He had red and white stripes, his clan color, painted on the sides of his face. His black hair glistened in the brightness of the early morning, accentuating the red good luck paint which ran over his scalp along the part. Rita thought he really was a handsome man. 90 Carol Rita The man who made the songs led Abraham Garfield into the lodge. Rita, Mother, and Millie waited outside until Abraham was dressed in the new clothes Mother and Millie had made. After a time the man who made the songs called them to come in. The fire was burning slowly when Rita and Mother took their places on the ground next to Abraham Garfield. Last night’s ceremony was repeated. Again the people ate in silence. When they had all eaten, Abraham Garfield went out of the lodge and stood watching while special friends of Uncle Matthew’s danced and played dice games and shinny. After the games were over several of the men recited their war deeds. When each had finished speaking, the drummers beat the drum. Next, the man who made the songs said a prayer for Uncle Matthew’s spirit to travel safely to the Land of the Dead. Then, as at the grave, gifts were distributed. The man who made the songs took the new calico which had been hung from a pole beside the building, and gave the dress lengths to the waiters, cooks, and dancers. To Abraham Garfield he gave a bucket of food, a suitcase, and a new pair of moccasins for the journey of the spirit to the Land of the Dead. Abraham drew his new red blanket tightly around his slim body and walked away towards the west. Now, Rita had a new Uncle, Abraham Garfield. The sun had moved to the top of the sky when the last of the people left the lodge. Mother looked out of the kitchen window and watched their wagon turn onto the main road. Then she spoke to Rita. “These clothes Abraham Garfield wore over here this morning belong to you. What do you want me to do with them? I could give them to the man who made the songs. He’s always wanting something a little extra, that’s the trouble with him.” “I think he got enough. He thinks we’re rich ‘cause I work at Agency. I think we should put them away ‘cause someone dies. Then we could help out and give them the things.” “We can’t do that. Abraham wore the clothes over here, so they’re not new. You got to have really new clothes to be buried in. I think I’ll just give them things to the man who made the songs. I don’t want to have any hard feelings or trouble with them folks. Rita 91 “You’re going back to Agency with Angus this evening?” “We thought we would wait until morning and travel in the daylight. I wanted to visit with you some.” “If you want to visit with me why don’t you send him away? I know what you two have been doing together. He’s the same clan as you and that makes him your brother. It’s wrong what you do, even if you aren’t related. You’ll be having a baby if you don’t look out.” Rita looked at Mother and horror crept over her face. “He’s not MY clan. He’s in YOUR clan. I belong to Father’s clan. He’s your brother if he’s anybody’s. We’re not doing anything wrong. I won’t send him off. I like him.” Angus didn’t say a word. Millie moved over closer to Mother, so she wouldn’t miss a thing. “Don’t you tell me what you won’t do! This is my house, and when I tell him to get out, he’ll go. You get white man’s ideas up there at Agency. Here, it’s different,” Mother warned. “I don’t see what difference it all makes about clans,” Millie said to Mother. “All the Sauk are related some way. You don’t want Rita to go with Angus, ‘cause you like him, and tried to get him.” Mother jumped up from her chair and tore at Millie, yelling, “You have a nasty mind. I take you in, and that’s the thanks I get! You’re nasty, nasty, nasty!” Mother pulled Millie’s hair and knocked her from the chair. Millie lay on the floor panting and crying. Rita ran to help Millie. Mother turned on her. “You get out of here! You don’t belong here! Get off this property! It’s mine. Take this bad man with you.” Mother picked up the chair and flung it against Rita’s legs. Rita stood with tears in her eyes and stared at Mother. “You hate me. You always hated me, that’s why you gave me away,” Rita screamed back. I don’t belong to you or anybody, now that Uncle Matthew’s dead. I hate you!” “You didn’t use the cloth and ribbons I bought. You wouldn’t give them to anyone as gifts. You didn’t want me to receive a blessing!” Mother picked up the poker and charged at Rita, hitting her across her legs until she crumpled to the floor. Dimly in her mind Rita remembered the time 92 Carol Rita when she was little, and Mother whipped her for stealing the money to buy oranges. Then, she had thought Mother loved her, but now Rita knew things were different. Rita and Angus drove northward in silence. The coolness of the fading day pushed them close together. Rita held tightly to Angus’ hand to ease her paining. After they had driven many miles, a little strength seeped back into her body. “I want to get married,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go back there anymore. She took my money and bought that house. She got the Agent to make me sign a paper and give her my land. She even kept the cloth and ribbons I brought to the adoption – she didn’t want me to have a blessing. She wouldn’t let me say anything about how things should be done at the ceremony.” “Did you read the paper you signed? Did the Agent explain what it said?” Angus asked ignoring Rita’s other words. “The Agent read me the paper, but I was in a hurry. I signed it without listening much.” “Then she got the land legally. You don’t have to give her any more money.” “Angus, it’s not true what Millie said about you and Mother? Is it?” “It’s this way. Since we come back from Guthrie, I’ve been down to see your Mother a few times. She’s usually a pretty nice woman. I never did see her like this before. Generally she’s good to folks and she’s sure been nice to me.” “I never saw her act like this before,” Rita said. “She’s always been hot-tempered and wanted her own way. Only Uncle Matthew could handle her.” “Sometimes when people are worried or grieving, they don’t act like themselves,” Angus reminded her. “Will you marry me?” She felt as if she had to have someone. He never would ask her, so Rita just had to ask him. “I’m not much on this marrying business. I think we’re doing pretty well the way we are. Maybe sometime I’d like to get married. Right now it doesn’t seem like we need to. I like things the way they are.” Rita didn’t answer. Her hand slid away from Angus’ and she clutched the cold metal seat brace as the road plunged downward to the small creek bed, abruptly to climb again to the rolling prairie. Rita 93 Part Five Chapter 14 1912 •White autumn sunshine drifted over the floor of the sewing room, sending its rays upward to tease Rita’s thoughts on a Saturday morning. Absentmindedly, she put down her darning and let her eyes wander out of the window, across the yard to the boy’s dormitory, and westward to the main building of the Agency School. Her memories slipped backward in time to Uncle Matthew’s adoption ceremony and then flowed aimlessly over the past ten years. Angus came to her mind. She thought about the night he had refused to marry her. She guessed she loved Angus very much, otherwise she wouldn’t have continued to see him. At first she hoped his feelings toward her would change, but as time went on it became clear to Rita that he would never marry. Whenever she brought up the subject, he would reply that they were doing all right the way they were. As the years passed Rita saw Angus less and less, and finally, after the trader moved to Chandler to open a dry goods store, she saw him only once in a great while. That was when she heard the rumors about Angus’ going around with other women. She tried to shut her ears to the gossip, but down in her heart she felt it was true. To forget Angus, or perhaps to spite him, Rita never knew exactly why, she started going out again with white men, who came to the area to build the railroad that was going to connect Shawnee with Oklahoma City. Then the people at Agency really began to talk about her. As the months went into years, their stories became more and more lurid, until no one knew fact from fiction. Rita wondered herself sometimes if she did the things people said she did. The agent spoke to Rita about her behavior. He warned her it was unbecoming to a Government employee. She was frightened she might lose her job, 94 Carol Rita and felt she needed someone to help her. Rita knew Mother disapproved of her conduct. She had tried to tell her troubles to Millie, who shrugged them off with a sly wink of her eye, intimating her own belief in Rita’s wrong conduct. Rita remembered what Uncle Matthew had told her about going to Abraham Garfield if she were ever in need of a friend or of advice, but a woman’s personal affairs did not seem to be the kind of problem to take to a man. Spiritual things were different. Underneath all her rationalizing, Rita was embarrassed because she had never made an effort to see Abraham Garfield after Uncle Matthew’s adoption ceremony. In her despair and loneliness she continued to find relief from her worries in the company of white men. The gossip tightened around her until her every movement and friendship seemed to become a subject of public interest. Then came Mother’s accident to release her, and to save her job. On this particular spring morning Mother hitched the team to the farm wagon and started for the north pasture to mend fences. Millie, who was watching from the kitchen window, saw Mother guide the team out past the barn and head them down the narrow farm road that led to the pasture. A snake must have spooked the horses. They reared to their hind legs, lurched forward, turned sharply, and raced back towards the barn. Mother held on to the reins, and tried to stop the team. Then all of a sudden, as the team slowed down near the barn, Mother shot from the wagon. She landed on her head. Millie rushed out of the house to help Mother, just as Mr. Schultz drove his horse and wagon into the yard. Mother lay on the ground unconscious, and nothing they did revived her. When all their efforts failed, Millie and Mr. Schultz carried Mother into the house. Millie believed Mother had been witched. She had seen nothing and no one to frighten the horses. A witch could have sent a snake. All Mr. Schultz knew was that Mother had hurt her head. He went off to find a doctor. After the doctor examined Mother, he advised Millie to send for Rita. Mother would need special care for a long while. It would be impossible for Millie to look after the farm, and take care of Mother. Rita’s doubt about going to Mother was resolved by the Agent’s threat, and the pressure of the gossip. She reluctantly returned to Mother’s house. There she remained for what seemed to be an endless time. In the beginning Mother’s condition was so serious that she required all the attention Rita and Millie could give her. Later, when Mother improved enough to Rita 95 sit up in bed and pass the time by making beaded belts and garments, or cut out new patterns for ribbon appliqué, life in the household took on a happier tone. Rita found her days on the farm very lonely compared to the busy life of the Agency and Stroud. Her only social activities consisted of attending the ceremonies of the Grand Medicine Society as an on-looker, going to Sauk religious festivals, and the occasional visits of kinfolks or friends. Rita yearned for the companionship of her non-Indian friends. One day, to everyone’s surprise, Angus came to call. He had heard about Mother’s accidents as well as about Rita’s return home. It seemed only right that he should come to see them. To Rita’s pleasure, this visit was followed by many more. In fact, she again looked forward to seeing Angus. This pleasure was soon lost by Angus’ announcement that he and Abraham Garfield had joined the 101 Ranch Show and were going to travel. Rita abandoned her thoughts about Angus and Mother. She looked past the roofs of the dormitories and out over the rolling hills, towards the great plains of the west. Almost mechanically, she lowered her eyes again to her darning, and took a few stitches. Unobtrusively, her thoughts went to Angus again. Rita puzzled about Angus. He was hard to figure. Sometimes he was like a white man, in the way he thought and acted. Then, before you realized it, he was behaving like an Indian, like the way he left a good job to go off with a circus and travel. Rita wondered, if Angus was like that, what was she like? Hadn’t she been brought up in the white man’s ways in school? But that was different, ‘cause there you lived with all kinds of Indians. In self-defense you grew proud of being a member of your own tribe. She guessed it was different for people like Angus, who went to Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania. There the students were sent to live with white folks, and really learned how the other people felt and acted. But at Haskell and Chilocco the students stayed in the schools, and most of them never really experienced white man’s life. Angus had a white father, so it seemed natural for him to act like a white man. Rita was different. She had been brought up by Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Matthew in the old Indian tradition. She reconsidered and compared her background and Angus’. They really were very similar. He was raised by his old 96 Carol Rita Grandmother, who was one of the most knowledgeable of all Sauk women. Angus never was with his father. Again Rita’s attention jumped back to her sewing. Deftly, she took the last stitches in the sock and removed it from her darning egg. She deliberately turned the sock inside out and pushed the feet up into the heel, just as she had been taught to do when she was a small girl at Agency School. Rita sorted through her sewing hamper until she selected a pair of boy’s pants with a big hole in the right leg. She examined the pants carefully – big or little, she guessed men were all the same. They used something or somebody until it wore out. Then they found something new and started all over again. She cut out a blue serge patch from an old coat, and fitted it in the knee of the pants. “all men aren’t like the ones I know now,” she thought. “Uncle Matthew wouldn’t use a woman, or abuse anything. He took good care of everything he had – his clothes, his gun – especially Aunt Tabitha and me.” Rita hoped way deep in her heart that she would someday find a man as good as Uncle Matthew, and settle down to raising a family. She did so much want a baby; to have someone who belonged to her. Rita pushed her needle in and out of the blue serge, and with every stitch her mind pushed backward again in time. She remembered how happy she was to leave the farm after Mother recovered from her accident, and return to the Agency School. At first she took up the duties of her old job with great enthusiasm. Then she collided with the many changes in the management of the school and Agency. New people had been sent down from Washington. Everything was being done differently, and she had to learn her job all over again. She became more and more unhappy with the demands being put on her. Besides, she was lonely. Most of the old teachers were gone, some had been transferred to other Indian schools, some had retired, and a few had died. In some ways Rita missed her former associates, and in another way life was easier without them. The new people had not heard the vicious gossip about her. In unperceivable fear her thoughts fled away from herself to dwell safely upon the Agent. Agents were always strange men to the Indians. They had names, but everyone called them simply “Agent”. Rita thought for a little about the different Agents she had known. The only one she ever liked was the old man who was Agent when she first came to Agency School as a little girl. His son was Rita 97 pretty good too; he was Agent during the time of the smallpox epidemic. The new Agent was just like all the rest. He and his family lived in the big government house and kept away from the Indians. As usual, he said that Washington had ordered all the changes in handling the Indian’s affairs. Washington wanted the Indians to farm their lands and live like white people. Rita knew that no matter what the Agent or Washington did, the Indians would be Indians, and not white folks, for a long time to come. Rita disliked the new Agent. He was too critical of the personal lives of the employees. He listened to all the gossip and kept track of what everyone did. She believed her personal life was none of his business. She stuck her needle sharply into the patch and pulled the thread real tight as she thought about the Agent. At first Rita had been able to do her work to suit the Agent, and to conduct herself to his satisfaction. But as time went on, she widened her circle of white friends, and her free time became a series of visiting an church socials interspaced with dances at Stroud. Once again she found release from her problems in the company of white men. The Agent spoke to her about inviting criticism that should not be leveled at a government employee. Again Rita became afraid of losing her job. In her fear, she grew to hate her work and the Agency. She wanted to make a change, but where could she go? She could never go back to live with Mother again. She cold ask for a transfer to another government school, but she was frightened at the thought of doing so. Rita caught her thread in the last stitch of the patch and reached for the scissors, to cut the thread free from the cloth. For a few seconds she escaped from her thoughts, as she aimlessly ran her hand through her basket of mending. Suddenly she realized that she was getting hungry, and looked at her brooch watch. It would soon be time for noon dinner. Rita poked her needle into the pin cushion, and sank back in her chair to rest a few minutes before getting ready to go down to the dining room. Then she could go and spend the afternoon in Stroud with Millie. Rita considered Millie for a while. She thought that Millie sure was mean and selfish. The whole time Rita stayed with Mother, Millie tried to make herself seem important by bossing the hired men and running around with that rich storekeeper from Prague. She never gave Rita a chance to go anywhere. Rita shuddered when she remembered the morning Mother discovered that Millie had been out with the storekeeper for most of the night. Mother’s 98 Carol Rita helplessness disappeared in her anger. She beat Millie with a buggy whip. When Rita tried to come to Millie’s aid, Mother turned to her, sending the lash of the whip deep into her thighs. Mother finally quieted down when Millie helped Rita out of Mother’s reach. Millie recovered from her beating, and started to run around again with the storekeeper. It made Rita mad. She was always the one left at home to take care of Mother. At last she spoke to Mother about Millie, but Mother wouldn’t listen, now that her anger had subsided. After all, Mother insisted, it was Millie who really managed things on the farm, and she needed to have some fun. Rita had had plenty of chances to run around when she was at Agency. Now it was time for her to do a little real work. All the same, Rita thought Millie sure was pitiful, that time she came up to Agency after Mother had run her of the place. Rita only knew the story through Millie’s bursts of hatred against Mother. They had quarreled again over the storekeeper. After Rita left Mother’s place, Millie kept running around with the storekeeper. Everyone knew he was married already and wouldn’t leave his wife. He would never marry her, but Millie wouldn’t listen to anybody’s warnings. Mother fought with Millie about him many times, but Millie persisted in seeing him. This time he came to the house to visit Millie late in the afternoon. Mother, seeing him and Millie sitting together under the big tree at the back of the barn, grabbed the double-bladed axe and came raging towards them. “She was going to axe him to death,” Millie said to Rita, “and she would have, except he managed to outrun her and get to his buggy. He beat it on down the road. I tried to stop Sister and make her put down that axe, but then she turned on me. She swung that axe at me as strong as she could. I jumped out of the way just in time. That axe went way deep into the porch railing. I ran in the house and started gathering up my things. She was right behind me, yelling for me to get off the place and never come back.” “I don’t have anywhere to go. Everybody’s scared of Sister, ‘cause they say she witches folks. You’re the only one I got to help me. You’re not scared of her.” Rita didn’t know then and she didn’t’ know now if she was scared of Mother or not. Rita did know that she had always believed that Millie belonged to Mother, but now Millie said she had no one to turn to but Rita. Rita wanted someone to belong to her and want her. She couldn’t bear to turn Millie away. Rita 99 Rita drew out her little savings from the bank and rented Millie a house near the Agency. After a few weeks Mother came to Agency to see Rita and find Millie. Together they walked down the main road to Millie’s house. Rita wasn’t surprised when Mother and Millie greeted each other pleasantly. As long as Rita could remember folks talking about them, Mother and Millie had always fought and then forgot their madness, and gone on together same as ever. Rita and Millie had been close to each other during the time Millie lived alone near Agency. Rita thought she had a family, but now Mother and Millie had made up, there seemed to be no place for her. Rita left the two sisters and walked back to Agency alone. They were her folks, but somehow they seemed like another family. She didn’t belong to them. The dinner bell snapped Rita back to the present. She rose to her feet, went down the hall to the washroom, changed her dress and combed her hair. Before leaving her room, she inspected herself in the long mirror and felt assured that her appearance was satisfactory for her visit to Stroud with Millie that afternoon. In the back of her mind she almost remembered what Uncle Matthew had told her a long time ago. “A woman who keeps herself looking pretty thinks a lot of herself. She will always live right.” After the noonday meal, Rita left the Agency School and walked southward along the main road to Millie’s house. The cool soft air patted her face as it hurried by to lift the dry leaves of the blackjack and post oak trees up into the fall sky. “Here you are,” Millie observed, as she came hurrying out of the house. “I’ve been waiting on you.” Rita and Millie rode with only a few words, until they crossed the railroad tracks at Stroud. “Look, look, there!” Millie gasped. “On the corner of Main Street by the feed store! It’s one of them horseless carriages!” Rita looked. There was the automobile parked in front of the newspaper office. “I’m glad it’s not running. Them things sure scare the horses,” Millie declared. “Some folks say that after a while they’ll be all over the place and we won’t have any horses.” They drove east on Main Street. The women looked this way and that, to be sure not to let anything or anyone out of their gaze. Slowly Millie guided 100 Carol Rita the horse and buggy past the two-story bank building where the doctor and lawyer had their offices on the second floor. Past the confectioner’s, the restaurant, the barber shop, with the neat sign in the window which read “Bath tubs for men and women”. Past the grocery, the dry goods store, the shoemaker, the sign painter, the undertaker, the hotel. They glanced into the wagon yard to see how many people had come to town. Down the whole length of the main street they went, past the Justice of the Peace, the blacksmith, and on eastward until Main Street again became a country road. Then they had seen everything. Millie turned the buggy around and went back to the hitching rail in front of the dry-goods store. “I got some business in the bank,” Rita said. “What you got to do?” “I got to buy some groceries, that’s all. Why don’t you go tend to your business? When you’re finished we can walk up and down the street and see everybody.” Rita agreed and climbed out of the buggy. She walked down the street towards the bank. On the way she stopped several times, to pass the time of day with some white men she had met at the Saturday night dances, and with some Indian friends. As she approached the bank a tall slim man, wearing an eastern-looking brown suit, politely pulled open the heavy bank door for her to enter. AS she passed by him he tipped his derby hat. Rita smiled appreciatively and glided past him up to the high marble counter. “Hello,” Rita announced her presence to the teller who was occupied checking his accounts. “Can you give me some money for this?” She placed a United States government check as far inside the teller’s cage as she could reach. “Good afternoon, Miss Borden. It’s sure nice seeing you. How are things at Agency?” The teller inquired as he counted the correct amount of bills and change and pushed the money outside the cage to her. “Thank you. Everything is good at Agency. Are you folks coming down to church on Sunday? Some of the students are going to sing. It’ll be real nice.” “I’ll talk to my Mrs. We just might do that. Why, good afternoon, Mr. Hall. I didn’t see you standing there.” “Good afternoon. I’ve been listening to your conversation.” Rita looked behind her, and recognized the tall man who had held the door for her. “I’ll Rita 101 be around these parts on Sunday. Can anyone go out to the Indian Agency for church?” “Miss Borden, this is Mr. Hall.” Rita and the man politely acknowledged the introduction while the teller went on talking. “Mr. Hall, he’s here with the railroad. He’s gonna be around for a while. He’s come all the way from Chicago to work out here. Miss Borden teaches at the Agency School. She’s a Sauk Indian. She can tell you all about the church service.” Rita thought the man looked dignified and kind. She kinda hoped he would come down to Agency. She decided to encourage him, and smiled warmly as she answered his question. “Yes, we have church at Agency every Sunday. It’s a Protestant service and everyone is welcome. You can come down on Sunday if you like. We’re going to have a picnic dinner.” “Thank you, Miss Borden. I’ll look forward to seeing you there.” Rita bade the men goodbye, and left the bank in search of Millie. The rest of the afternoon Rita and Millie spent walking up and down Main Street, looking in the store windows and talking with everyone they knew. Rita was so pleased with her new acquaintance that she bough Millie and herself each a strawberry soda at the confectionery store. As the sun was beginning to dip into the west, they left Stroud to drive slowly back to the Agency. “Did you get all your business attended to?” Millie inquired. “Yah, I got it done all right.” Rita wasn’t going to tell Millie about Mr. Hall. It wasn’t any of Millie’s business. If he came around, she was going to keep him all to herself. “You got any money? Can I have some until payment?” Millie asked. “No. What you need money for? You’ve been helping Mrs. Whistler out now and then, and she pays you, and you collect payment money too. Mother gives you some money ever once in a while. Besides, doesn’t that rich storekeeper in Prague help you some when he comes up to visit? I know sometimes you got gifts from men that you go out with, same as I do.” “You fresh thing. You got a nasty mind. I need money to buy groceries. The Agent won’t let me have any more of my lease money. He said I spend too much of my money for clothes. He says I don’t need any more; but I do. Can’t you let me have a little?” 102 Carol Rita “Well, all right. Here, I’ll give you two dollars. That’s for taking me to Stroud. You can take me anytime I want to go for a while, and then you won’t have to pay me back. I don’t see any use to lend you any money, ‘cause you don’t ever pay it back.” Millie took the two dollar bills and shoved them down the front of her dress inside the bodice. They rode on in silence until Millie stopped the buggy in front of the walk up to the school. “Is this all right or do you want me to drive up the road? I’ll see you on Saturday when you come to bake for the church picnic. You want to eat supper with me on Sunday evening? Your mother is supposed to come up from Prague.” Rita climbed down from the buggy and thought a second before she spoke. “I don’t know! Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. We’ll see.” Rita turned and walked up the path. Her thoughts were crowded with tomorrows shared with Mr. Hall. Chapter 15 Rita 103 1912 Rita spent all her free time for the remainder of the week getting ready for the church social and Mr. Hall’s anticipated visit. She washed and starched her best shirtwaist with its many tiny tucks. She brushed and pressed her serge hobble skirt. On Saturday she went over to Millie’s house and baked several loaves of bread and an angel food cake. Sunday was a beautiful warm day. The brilliant sunshine pierced the atmosphere, bringing the rolling countryside for miles around into view. Sabbath peace caressed the earth as Rita went along the path which led from the girls’ dormitory to the little white frame church. Rita walked down the hill and into the church yard. She saw a group of men gathered under the large pecan tree. Some children ran this way and that in a game of tag. She smiled politely at the men, dodged past the children, and proceeded to the front door of the church. There she put down her split oak Cherokee basket, which contained her baked goods, tea towels, plates, cups, and silverware. She repined her ostrich-plumed hat, and put on her white gloves. Cautiously she looked over her shoulder at the men. Seeing that they were interested only in their own conversation, she lifted her tight skirt the calves of her legs, picked up her basket, and went up the two steps into the church. Inside, sharp rays of light darted from the little windows to hit the still-empty pews and bounce up to the beamed ceiling. Rita chose a seat just off the center aisle in the middle of the church, where Mr. Hall would be sure to see her. She sat silently reciting an Indian prayer song which Uncle Matthew had sung on winter evenings when she was a little girl. I’m always looking at God. God is in the flowers, the trees, The insects, the animals, All life that breathes is Holy. God is life. All life depends on God. He created the sun, the earth, the water, the air. 104 Carol Rita We have to have these to live. God helps all. God is everywhere. God is life. Amen. Rita sat back and watched the people come in. She noticed the new Agent and his wife arrive with their two children. Behind them came the Government farmer and his wife and little girl. They always sat up front so the minister would be sure to see them. Rita grew anxious. She wondered if Mr. Hall was in the rear of the church. She stood up, pretended to tighten her tight skirt, and quickly glanced at the pews behind her. She saw the Doctor and his wife, several of the teachers, Chief Keokok and his family, and rich rancher, Mr. Whistler, and quite a few Indian folks who generally didn’t attend the Protestant service. She guessed they had come today to hear the children sing. Then Rita saw Mr. Hall come in through the door. He recognized her immediately, and came down the center aisle to sit across from her. She thought he was handsome in his brown tweed sack suit. The church quietly crept over everyone. The melodeon began to play, ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS. The preacher appeared on the pulpit. The children marched in to take their places in the first two rows on the west side of the church. The congregation rose and sang with the choir. At the close of the hymn the preacher read from the scriptures and prayed. Rita, more and more aware of the presence of Mr. Hall, let her eyes travel across the aisle and fall on his brown suit. Suddenly she saw Mr. Hall grow tense from her stares. She turned her attention back to the service. The Preacher was reciting: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me by still waters, He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the Paths of righteousness, for His name’s sake. Amen. Rita listened intently; she liked the Psalm. The thought reminded her of Indian prayers. Rita 105 When the Psalm was over everyone in the church recited the LORD’S PRAYER. After the amen, the melodeon sounded the first notes of the final hymn; the children’s chorus picked up the words, the congregation joined in, and Rita’s soprano voice could be heard above all. The King of Love my Shepherd is, His goodness faileth never, I nothing lack if I am his And he is mine forever. With the “Amen”, the morning service came to an end. Mr. Hall snapped to his feet and extended his hand to Rita. “How do you do, Miss Borden?” “How are you, Mr. Hall? It’s nice to see you here with us.” “Thank you, Miss Borden.” Mr. Hall pushed closer to Rita to allow the people to pass up the aisle. “Did you enjoy our prayers?” “Yes, very much. The Preacher, is he an Indian?” “Yes, he’s an Ottowa Indian from ‘way up in Minnesota. He sure is good, too. Wait until you hear him preach the afternoon service.” “Could you introduce me to him? I’d like to tell him how much I enjoyed the sermon.” “Yes, we’ll just move up in line to the door. You stay here behind me.” Mr. Hall smiled and followed Rita out of the church to meet the preacher and a few members of the Agency community. Then he carried her basket over to the long wooden tables under the pecan tree. Rita joined the women, who were arranging the food. No one asked her to do anything special, so she stood and watched them uncover their dishes. The doctor’s wife, who was from Boston, had made baked beans and brown bread. Mrs. Whistler brought fried chicken, and the blacksmith’s wife had sent over a roast of beef. The government farmer’s wife had a large dish of potato salad. Rita knew she didn’t want any because the woman used vinegar instead of boiled dressing and she disliked the sharp taste. The preacher’s wife placed her dish of cole slaw at the front of the table for everyone to see. As usual, it was full of tiny black hard things, which one of the teachers said were whole peppers. But Rita 106 Carol Rita wasn’t sure, as the preacher’s folks weren’t too clean. There was the usual array of pies: apple, peach, cherry, and lemon, baked in the school kitchen by the teachers. And, of course, a display of chocolate cakes, marble cakes, white cakes, all with sticky icing, and pound cake without any icing at all. There were raisin cookies, sugar cookies, and oatmeal cookies. Everyone knew Mrs. Whistler’s daughter had made the cookies; them folks always wanted to show off by doing more than was needed. Quietly Rita took her angel food cake from the basket and placed it in front of all the others, so everyone would be sure to see its pretty pink icing. Then she carefully placed her homemade bread in front of the store-bought bread wrapped in oil paper, which one of the white ladies had brought from Guthrie. Mrs. Whistler summoned the Preacher to say the grace. AS on every Sunday when they ate together, he recited the shortest little prayer Rita had ever heard. She guessed he was hungry, but she thought an Indian man should make a long and respectful prayer to God for all that fine food. Rita motioned Mr. Hall to take the plate she held out to him, and get in line. She knew how hungry white folks got when they didn’t have to pay for the food. Mr. Hall accepted the plate and a tea towel from Rita, and let her lead him past the table of food. As they moved along she encouraged him to take at least one preserved peach, which the doctor’s wife had put up. She thought they had the most wonderful flavor. She suggested he try the wild strawberry preserve, the grape butter, and the plum jam. She made him sample all the goodies. Mr. Hall’s plate was piled so high, that he had difficulty in balancing the food and at the same time carrying his large glass of lemonade to a shady spot Rita had picked out under the pecan tree. “I’m certainly glad I came today, and found you, Miss Borden.” Mr. Hall said when they were seated on the ground. “It was a very pleasant service this morning.” Rita half-heard him through her thoughts. No one joined them. She guess, as always the people at Agency would be talking about her being with a white man. Them folks sure had nasty minds! She was worried. With this Agent one could not be sure what might happen if he didn’t think a person’s conduct was proper. Rita pulled away from her problems and replied to Mr. Hall. “Yah, I’m glad you come too. We have a nice church here.” “Do you have a picnic every Sunday, or is this something special?” “We don’t eat together every Sunday exactly; I’d say we eat together about Rita 107 once a month or so. In the summer we eat over there in the arbor, but today it would be too cool up on that little hill. In the winter, sometimes, we eat indoors.” Mr. Hall turned to follow her gaze up on the hill to the brush-covered arbor. Scanning the countryside, he slowly returned his eyes to her. Rita watched him closely. “This food is good. When you eat in restaurants all the time, you really appreciate home cooking. I bet you’re a good cook.” “I made that bread you’re eating and I made the angel food cake. How come you eat in restaurants all the time? Don’t you have any women-folks to look after you?” “My folks are in Ohio. I’m a bachelor. It’s pretty hard around here if a man doesn’t have a woman to look after him. Maybe one of these days I’ll be settling down.” Mr. Hall smiled at Rita. She blushed and looked away. She saw that most of the other folks had finished eating their dinner. “We better hurry if we want some ice cream.” “You have ice cream after all this! I don’t know just where I’ll put it, but I’ll sure try.” “You’ll have room, all right. It’s delicious. The government farmer has a good cow and they make a galloon of it for us every time we eat together. “Come on,” Rita said handing him a clean plate from the basket. She led Mr. Hall across the church yard, an dup the little hill to the arbor, where the government farmer was dishing out the ice cream. He filled both their plates with heaping mounds of cold vanilla. Rita, and the other folks gathered around the freezer, watched Mr. Hall critically taste his. When his face expressed pleasure in the flavor, everyone started to laugh and tease him. Rita felt more at east at the prospect of the Agency’s people liking Mr. Hall. After they had finished eating, Mr. Hall helped the men carry the tables back into the church. Rita gathered up their dishes and utensils, and put them away in her basket. When she had finished, she looked around for Mr. Hall, and saw him talking to the Agent. She strolled off by herself and stood under the pecan tree where he could see her. After a short time, Rita watched Mr. Hall excuse himself from the Agent. He moved towards her. Now and then he would stop to chat with one of the men, or to compliment one of the women on her cooking. Whenever he stopped to chat Rita heard friendly laughing float back to her across the yard. For some 108 Carol Rita reason that she could not understand, she felt safer with Mr. Hall now that the white folks at Agency seemed to like him. Mr. Hall came towards her, smiling broadly. “I’ve just been having a fine talk with the Agent. He’s a nice fellow. He comes from Ohio, too. His folks live not far from my people. A small world, you might say.” Rita nodded in reply. “Miss Borden, what do they do this afternoon?” “We sit over there, under the summer arbor, and sing songs. We sing all kinds of songs – hymns and things. “We sing some, then we hear some preaching. The minister, he talks, and then some of the men and women in the audience talk. Sometimes it’s real nice.” “Rita, I can call you Rita – can’t I?” Rita didn’t answer for a minute. She was wondering if Mr. Hall was going to get fresh like the other white men she knew in Stroud. She didn’t believe he would, seeing how nice and polite he acted. She decided to take a chance. “Why yes, I guess so. Yes, you can call me Rita. What’s your given name?” “Elmer, Elmer B. Hall.” “Elmer B. Hall,” Rita repeated after him. “That’s a kinda pretty name.” “You may call me Elmer if you like.” Rita thought before she replied. “I don’t know if I want to. You see it’s this way: in a book I read once the lady always calls her husband Mr. She thought it was being more proper and respectful. Well, I’ve thought about that a lot. All the men I’ve known, right away they want to be called by their first name. I don’t like that. I think it’s better for men and women folks to be a little more proper. I believe it’s like that lady in the storybook. So if you don’t min, I’ll call you Mr. Hall.” Mr. Hall smiled, “I’ll consider that a great compliment. And just to keep things proper, I’ll call you Miss Rita in the grand old southern tradition.” Rita didn’t know about the “grand old southern tradition” but the idea of being called “Miss Rita” pleased her very much. She felt like a great lady. “Miss Rita, I rented a horse and buggy at the livery stable and I thought perhaps you would like to take a drive with me this afternoon?” “You rented a horse and buggy! My, that sure is nice. That’s the kind of thing rich folks do. It must have cost you an awful lot?” “It wasn’t much, really; just two dollars. Miss Rita, will you go for a drive with me?” Rita 109 Rita felt flattered. She forgot what the Agent would think of her conduct. She wanted to be alone with Mr. Hall. “Yes, I guess we can go. Sometimes folks leave after they have dinner. We better tell the preacher goodbye.” Mr. Hall agreed, and they went off to speak to the preacher and some of the members of the congregation. Rita was very proud when most of the women begged Mr. Hall to return soon. She felt especially secure when the Agent’s wife suggested Rita ask Mr. Hall to the Christmas program at the school. Mr. Hall escorted Rita to the black buggy, and helped her in. He untied the horse from the hitching rail, and they were off down the drive which led to the main road. “Which way would you like to go?” Mr. Hall inquired. “Have you ever been south, towards Prague? I think that’s a pretty road.” “I saw a little of that country when I came up here from Shawnee, but I would like you to show it to me.” “There’s not too much to see, really; just where all the wild strawberries grow, and the wild plums and things the Indians gather. There are a few Indian burial grounds too.” “Oh,” Mr. Hall replied, and stared at Rita in bewilderment. “You don’t really see much of these burial grounds from the road; they’re way back in the woods on the second terrace of the Deep Fork River. I don’t want to be buried in one of them family cemeteries; I want to be buried in the one at Agency where the white folks and the progressive Indians are buried. Where do you want to be buried?” “I don’t care. I’m young – I want to do a lot of living before I start thinking about such a thing.” “White folks are kinda funny,” Rita said more to herself than to Mr. Hall. “Some of them spend all their time thinkin’ about dying, and praying to go to heaven, and others don’t think about it all. In the Indian religion, life is a road and you just know that some day you will reach the end of it, so you naturally think about where you want to rest.” “Did you spend much time in Shawnee?” Rita asked to change the subject. Talking about graveyards seemed to make Mr. Hall uneasy. “No, I just come in that way from Texas. I stopped off there for a day, because I’ve got some friends who are teaching in the Rock Island Railroad School.” “Yah, they have a lot of people learning about the trains down there. You’ll like it better up here at Stroud.” 110 Carol Rita “I sure will, ‘cause I’ve been lucky, and met you. Besides, I make more money working for the Santa Fe Railroad up here than I would be making down in Shawnee with the Rock Island Railroad. Money is the important thing in my life. If you got money you can get most anything else. Don’t you think?” “Yah, I think money is important. Most of the people you meet nowadays think so, too. But some of them old Indian people believe in the old way. They don’t’ care much about money. They believe that a person should only have the things he uses. They say if a person has too many things in this life he will be cursed. My Uncle, he believed like that. Sometimes I think them old folks were right, but times change. I guess you need money nowadays.” “I sure think you need money. I want to get me some land, have some cattle. Here in Oklahoma is a good place. Why, they’re finding oil all over. Who knows, they might find some one my land, someday.” “I got some land, but nobody’s found oil on it.” “That’s right, you got land because of your allotment. The Agent manages any oil leases on your land, doesn’t he? If you married a white man I suppose he would act as your guardian, and look after things for you? Isn’t that the way of it?” Mr. Hall smiled at her. Rita didn’t answer. She thought that was a kinda funny thing to say. Mr. Hall had learned a lot about the Indians and the Agent for the short time he’d been around Stroud. She rehearsed her thoughts carefully before she spoke. “The Government has looked after my business for a long while. They don’t always do things to suit me, but I think I’d rather have them folks in Washington looking after me than some white man, even if he was my husband. Sometimes husbands do funny things, and take all their wife’s money. I want to keep what money and land I have.” Mr. Hall’s face seemed to grow very grave; he moved about in his seat; Rita watched with concern. She wondered what she had said that appeared to disturb him. At last he smiled. “You sure sang pretty in church. You have a lovely voice.” Rita blushed a little. “I like to sing. I’ve always liked to sing. I listened to you in church. You sing real good, too.” Mr. Hall leaned back in his seat, and turning towards her began to hum, IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMER TIME. Rita picked up the words: “In the Rita 111 good old summer time. In the good old summer time. Strolling down a shady lane. With your baby-mine.” When Mr. Hall took over the words and Rita hummed: “She holds your hand and you hold hers. And that’s a very good sign, That she’s your sweet tootsy-wootsy. IN the good old summer time.” Suddenly, Rita realized that Mr. Hall was holding her hand, but she didn’t move a finger. She joined him in the last refrain, “In the good old summer time.” After that song they sang others, and they talked. The sun began to fall low in the sky, and a breeze from the northwest crept across the plains. Rita pulled her shawl close round her shoulders; then she felt Mr. Hall gradually slide a little closer towards her. His tweed suit felt good against her thinly clad arm. “I kinda think we better turn back now. It’s getting late.” Mr. Hall turned the horse around at the first section line road they came to. “The country is pretty at this time of the day,” Mr. Hall remarked. “It’s so clear out here in Oklahoma, and the air smells good. Back in Chicago, where I lived for years, it smelled smoky.” “The air does smell nice here. I like all the birds, especially the blue jays. I’ve never been to Chicago. Do they have birds up there?” “Yah, they have some, but not as many as here. Maybe someday I will have a chance to show you Chicago. I’d like that. You never can tell how things can turn out.” “No, you never can. I’d like to go east to see the big cities. I went to school in Kansas; that’s the farthest I’ve been from home. But I don’t know if I’ll ever get to Chicago. I’ll just leave it all up to God. He’ll show me the right road.” “Miss Rita, I feel like I’ve known you all my life. Do you believe that some people are meant to be together, that God sort of had that in mind when they were born?” “I’ve never heard anything like that. Everyone I’ve known believes that men and women should be together, just like the wild animals. That’s what makes the world keep going. I think God just leaves it to the people to decide who pairs off with whom. But you know, it’s funny, ‘cause I feel that I’ve known you a long 112 Carol Rita while too.” Mr. Hall looked tenderly at her. “Would you go to the dance with me at Stroud Saturday night, and to church with me on Sunday?” Rita’s eyes danced. “You asking me to go to all them things with you? That’s real nice. I’d like to go.” “And the next week I probably will ask you to go with me again. And the week after that, too, and many more weeks to come.” Rita put her head down and blushed. She felt very happy. Almost as happy as she felt when Angus gave her the silver belt buckle that time they went to Guthrie. At the entrance of the main school building, Mr. Hall lifted Rita to the ground and helped her up the steps to the long wide porch. “I’ll be here late Saturday afternoon to fetch you. We can have dinner together in Stroud. It’ll be late because I can’t come until the last train goes through. I’ll think about you all week.” “I’ll think about you too, all the time.” Mr. Hall leaned forward and placed a little kiss on Rita’s lips. She didn’t try to move away from him. This was the first kiss that she had really wanted from a white man. Before she could speak, he was off the porch and back in the buggy. Rita looked around to be sure no one saw them, although she knew someone must have! With the kiss pressed close to her heart she went into the school for another week’s work. Chapter 16 Rita 113 1913 The cycle of human life and the rhythm of nature are much the same. Each season of the year has high points of activity. In the spring there are a few weeks of magnificent color when the earth is reborn. In summer there are days of intense heat when the whole world seems to be on fire. In the fall the earth becomes radiant with shades of brown and red, which settle down to the grays of winter, broken by shining days of white snows. So too does life have moments of dazzling beauty, tragedy, loneliness, and success and failure. Between climaxes, life, like nature, settles into routine existences, which attains a monotonous rhythm. Since her first encounter with Mr. Hall, Rita’s life seemed to have been filled with the excitement of courtship. For the three weeks after their meeting at the church picnic, Rita saw Mr. Hall every Saturday evening, and spent all day Sunday with him. During the week, she found excuses to have Millie drive her to Stroud. Each time, quite by chance, she met Mr. Hall. At last Millie started to question Rita, who gave no answer. The people at Agency, and those in Stroud began, too, to question Rita’s interest in Mr. Hall. Again the gossip started to circulate through Rita’s world. The Agent spoke to her about the high moral character the Government demanded of its employees. Rita assured him that her conduct was in keeping with its demands. Mother heard about Rita and Mr. hall, first from the Government farmer, then from the “coffee-cooling” Indians who hung around the Agency, and last from the Agent himself. Mother questioned Millie about Rita’s activities, but found out nothing new to add to her already vast supply of gossip. At last Mother visited Rita at Agency and warned her that if she continued to carry on with Mr. Hall something bad would happen. Rita stubbornly maintained that her relationship with Mr. Hall was proper. Rita liked Mr. Hall, in some ways. His sophisticated manners, and his knowledge of the big city ways, sent her into daydreams of far-off places. His admiration for the comforts of life, and for beautiful clothes, filled her with awe. She was scared by his desire for wealth and his continual drive to achieve it. As her liking for Mr. Hall increased, and she wanted to be with him all the time, 114 Carol Rita this fear lessened. At last he appeared in her eyes as the perfect suitor. Rita’s unhappiness at Agency School increased, with the continual gossip about her personal affairs. As the winter months dragged on she became more depressed and lonely. The new Agent transferred several of the teachers who had been kind to her, to Arizona. He even suggested to Rita that perhaps a new assignment, away from Oklahoma, would be beneficial for her. Rita believed by now that Mr. Hall was the only person in the world with whom she could discuss her personal affairs. He always seemed to her kind and sympathetic and wise. Now Mr. Hall urged Rita not to worry. He assured her she didn’t have to accept a transfer if she didn’t want one. She could leave the Indian service and make her living in Stroud as a dressmaker. This possibility had never entered Rita’s mind. The thought of having an alternative to the threatened transfer gave her some consolation. All the same, she wanted to stay at Agency School, where she had lived most of her life and where she felt safer than anywhere else. One evening in March, Mr. Hall came to Agency School and asked Rita to take a drive with him, so they could talk. They rode south, towards Prague, as they had driven on the first Sunday afternoon of their meeting. Rita sat in the buggy, speculating as to what Mr. hall was going to say. When they had passed the old Indian cemetery south of Agency, he spoke. “Miss Rita, my darling, I have to tell you something very important. I don’t want you to be upset. This is good news for me, and I want you to share my happiness.” “I’ll try to be happy with you, but if it’s such good news why are you afraid that I’ll be upset?” Mr. Hall smiled gently, “I’m afraid it will upset you, because I’m going away.” Mr. Hall going away! The words rang in Rita’s head. She struggled to comprehend them. She couldn’t make her mind concentrate on the reasons he gave for leaving. What would life be like without him? She couldn’t let him go without her! Wasn’t he the only one in the world who ever really loved her? “Miss Rita, I don’t think you’ve been listening to what I’ve said. Look at me and try real hard to understand so you can be happy with me. Please.” Rita looked at Mr. Hall, and with all her strength she made herself think of nothing else except what he was saying. Rita 115 “I’ve got a new job. It’s a real good job that will pay a lot of money. I’m going to work for the Rock Island Railroad in Shawnee. “See, it’s not too bad. Maybe you can give up your job at the Agency School and move to Shawnee and live with me. I’ll have a big job with the railroad. I’ll make more money and be able to give you more beautiful things.” “You want me to marry you! Yes, yes, yes, and all the yesses in the world.” Rita threw her arms around the surprised man. He kissed her firmly and then pulled away from her embrace. “Miss Rita, you don’t quite understand. I do want to marry you sometime, but I won’t be making enough money to look after a wife and family the way a man with a high position should. But I do want to be with you. I thought if you just came down to Shawnee and took a place and lived with me, you could make some money by sewing for folks. We could go along that way for a while. If you were my wife, it wouldn’t be right for me to let you work.” “Take me back to Agency. I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate you! I hate you! You’re a selfish, greedy man like all the rest of them. I’m a decent, respectable woman.” Rita turned in her seat, so she faced away from Mr. Hall. The tears rolled down her cheeks, and her body heaved in sorrow and humiliation. Mr. Hall turned the horses around and started back to Agency. Neither of them spoke. Rita thought that the horses moved slowly. It seemed to her that they had been traveling for hours. After the long silence, Mr. Hall whispered to her. “Miss Rita, I love you. I do want to marry you, but when you are my wife I want you to have everything.” “I didn’t want a lot of money, or fancy clothes, or a big house. I just wanted you.” Mr. Hall reached across the seat and placed his hand gently on Rita’s shoulder and pulled her close to him. She resisted slightly, but then slid closer to him. To Rita’s disappointment Mr. Hall didn’t kiss her; instead, he tried to comfort her with words. “All the women I knew before I met you liked beautiful clothes and wanted to marry men with money. It seemed to me if I couldn’t give you these things, then I had no right to have you for my legal wife.” “You just don’t make sense to me. Make these horses go faster so we can get back to Agency. All the white men I’ve ever known just wanted a woman to 116 Carol Rita sleep with. I thought you were different. I guess all men are no good. Even the Indian men don’t act decent sometimes. I ain’t staying with you – ever – if I’m not your wife. I’m a decent Christian woman in an Indian way – I want folks to know that. All the things they say aren’t true. I never did anything wrong or hurt anyone. I don’t know why people talk about me. If you think enough of me to have me stay with you, then you should think enough of me not to let folks talk about me, and to marry me.” “Miss Rita, my dear Miss Rita. Stop crying and forgive me.” Mr. Hall begged. “I do want to marry you. Stop crying and talk with me so we can figure out how we will manage it. Please, Miss Rita, listen to me. Too many people who love each other find out that love alone isn’t enough. People have to have a house, food, and clothes, and occasionally a little fun.” Rita listened to everything that Mr. Hall was saying. She thought about it carefully. She guessed he was right in some ways, and he was wrong after all. People did have to have clothes, and food, and a house. All these things did cost money. If she was working, then she could provide some of them, but if Mr. Hall didn’t let her work, because of his big position, she would have to help him another way. “I guess you are right – about having to have money. If I were your wife, it wouldn’t look good for me to go out working. But I can’t stay with you unless we’re married. So I was thinking, I got some money in Washington. The Government keeps it for me. You know, it’s like I told you; I have three allotments. That’s 480 acres, altogether, which the Agent rents out for me. I’ve never touched any of that money, ‘cause I’ve had my wages from the Agency School. I guess there is even more money than just the rents in Washington, ‘cause we, that’s everyone in the tribe, got money from our extra land here in Oklahoma. The Government kept the money that belonged to the little kids like I was then, and made a trust fund for them. I could have taken mine when I was eighteen, but like I said, I had my wages. So I left my money in Washington. It’s still up there.” Mr. Hall listened to her with rapt attention. “You know how the Indian people have to get permission from the Agent to spend their own money. Purchase orders, they call it. Nowadays the Agent writes an order to the store to let you get clothes or a wagon, or whatever you and the Agent agreed you need. The store sends the bill to the Agent and he Rita 117 has your money drawn from Washington to pay it. It’s really terrible, what the Government does to the poor Indian. They keep all our money away from us. We have to ask for everything all the time.” “Do you think the Government would let you have the money in your trust fund?” “I don’t know. Sometimes, when an Indian can read and write and take care of himself, the Government lets him decide for himself how he wants to spend his money, or if he wants to sell his land. One woman I know told me that when she married a white man the Government let him have charge over her money. He was a good man and did real well by her. They got a big house and furniture. “I’ll talk to the Agent about your money. Maybe I could manage it for you instead of the Government.” Mr. Hall gave Rita a big kiss. Now, the horses stood still. It was after midnight when Rita slipped into the girls’ dormitory and tiptoed to her room. The following day Mr. Hall talked to the Agent. Exactly what the two men said to each other, Rita never knew. The Agent gave Rita purchase orders, drawn from her money, to buy some new clothes and to set up housekeeping. Mr. Hall said he would receive the rest of Rita’s money after they were married. The April sun shone brightly on the Saturday afternoon Rita and Mr. Hall were married in the Protestant Church at the Sauk Agency, south of Stroud. The Indian preacher performed the ceremony. Mother and Millie sat in the first pew where they could see and hear everything. Millie said Rita had been real demanding, wanting a church wedding and reception, just like white folks. Mother stopped Millie from showing off about her feelings. Mother said Rita was marrying an important man, and should do things in a right and fitting way. Rita wore a simple white silk dress, which she had copied from a picture in the Kansas City paper. She had ordered the material specially; it had to be the most beautiful she could get. At Mr. Hall’s request, Rita was given in marriage by the Agent. After the ceremony, a small reception was held in the school parlor. Mrs. Whistler, the doctor’s wife, and the Agent’s wife made fruit punch and a beautiful cake with sticky white frosting and pink roses on it. A doll bride and groom stood under an arch and a wedding bell on top of the cake. 118 Carol Rita Rita thought it was sure nice of them folks to do all that for her and Mr. Hall. She guessed the Agency people’s consciences felt better because of doing it. They sure had said nasty things about her for a long time. Late in the afternoon, Rita stood on the steps of the main building of the Agency School. She threw her bouquet of pink roses, and saw Mrs. Whistler’s oldest daughter catch it. That girl was such an old maid that Rita hoped that she would be married soon – according to the white folks’ saying about catching the bouquet. After the wedding reception Mr. Hall and Rita left Stroud for Shawnee and their life together. Rita 119 Chapter 17 1913 The gray light of winter spread through the tiny house in Shawnee, Oklahoma, as Rita prepared for Mother’s and Millie’s first visit. With a rag, Rita knocked the dust off the wicker sofa and shoved the mission chair into a corner, out of the way. She always felt tired now that it was almost time for the baby. As she had done every day for the past week, Rita glanced out of the window, past the dry brown yard and the bare elm tree, westward, up the road to the open plains. She turned quietly away from the vista and went into the kitchen, singing one of Uncle Matthew’s religious songs. I am always looking at God. God is in the flowers, the trees, The insects, the animals, All life that breathes is Holy. God is life. To the rhythm of the music, she stirred the boiling beef until the big chunks of meat began to break apart. She ended her song and commenced to set the table for noon dinner. Her mind wandered while she moved clumsily about the kitchen. She recalled the difficulty she had in writing Mother in the Sauk language. Maybe it was always hard to remember a language when you weren’t with the people who spoke it; or perhaps she had been away from home so long she was forgetting how to speak Indian. No, that couldn’t be – she had only been away a little over half a year. Speaking Sauk was one thing, but writing it was much better – only the old-timers could really write Indian. They didn’t speak or write English. She heard a knock at the door. It must be Mother! She ran to the front of the house. “Come in. Come in,” she called as she hurried into the living room. “I’ve been expecting you since early morning. My, I’m glad you got here.” 120 Carol Rita “Millie came down from Agency yesterday, so we could get a good start from my place this morning,” Mother answered, settling herself on the wicker sofa. “It took a while before we could get off, tending the stock and everything. There’s still a while before noon.” “You sure got big!” Millie observed as she sat down in the Mission chair. “When’s your baby due?” “I figure it ought to be coming in the next month or so.” “I hope you’re watching out, and not eating eggs or anything that has a shell or an outer covering. If you’re not careful about that you’ll have a hard time. Don’t eat weenies or anything else that’s long and slippery ‘cause the umbilical cord can get twisted.” Rita remembered the spaghetti she had eaten at one of the church socials. A cold chill of fear swept over her. “Be still, Millie,” Mother snapped. “Rita will be all right. I’m gonna come down here and see to her myself.” Rita felt relieved. She wanted Mother to be with her, but she hadn’t wanted to ask. “I hope you’ll come soon, so as to be here in plenty of time. I’m not exactly sure when my baby will come.” “I’m getting everything ready so I can come end of next week and stay,” Mother assured her. Embarrassed by her sudden dependence on Mother, Rita glanced around the room. “How is Mr. Hall?” Mother asked. “Mr. Hall is all right. He has a real important job with the Rock Island. He’s so busy that I don’t ever get much chance to see him.” Mother looked surprised, but Rita went on talking, to avoid any more questions about Mr. Hall. “Mr. Hall bought me some fine clothes after we got down here. One time he took me to dinner and a dance at the hotel that the Rock Island people gave. That time I wore a beautiful green satin evening dress. He send me some carnations to wear. They were real nice. He told me I looked just beautiful.” Rita saw Millie’s eyes widen. She would continue. She would continue talking to make Millie jealous. Millie had been mean to her lots of times! “Another time Mr. Hall took me to a vaudeville show in town. A man there played the organ. He played my favorite song, ‘IN THE GOOD OLD SUMRita 121 MER TIME’. That music was sure nice. There were real funny comedians, and they had a man who did magic. Why, this man, he made things disappear and come back. He took a cigar and swallowed it, and then he brought it up again. He did the same thing with a long word. It was real exciting.” Mother looked surprised. Rita wondered if it reminded her of swallowing the sacred shell in the Grand Medicine Society ceremony. Rita thought about that every time she saw a magician. Millie abruptly interrupted her. After dinner, I gotta go downtown. I got some business to tend to.” “Dinner’ll be ready in a little bit. Before we eat would you help me hang some pictures?” “Yah, what do you want to hang?” “Mr. Hall bought me this picture of Abraham Lincoln. I think it’s sure nice. He looks so strong and kind, just like he loved everyone. And I went to hang our wedding certificate. I had it framed.” Rita took the two frames out of her trunk. She went to the kitchen for a hammer and some nails. “Here, let’s put the marriage license on this wall, so anybody can see it when they come in the door.” “Don’t you think you’re making an awful fuss over having a marriage license? Some folks never have one and they’re married as much as you are,” Millie remarked. “I want everyone to know that Mr. Hall and I are married properly. With a baby coming, it’s important.” Silently they hung the picture and the wedding license. Mother watched them for a while, before she went into the kitchen to make the fry bread. The three women sat around the big kitchen table and ate their dinner. Rita thought that Mother’s fry bread never tasted so good. There was just no getting around it, beef boiled with dried corn was bitter than anything you could buy in a fancy restaurant. “You haven’t told me the news around Stroud,” Rita declared. “What’s been going on?” “Oh, nothing much,” Millie replied. “We were busy all spring after you left. They had two First Fruit ceremonial dances. Both the Fox Clan and the Fish Clan put them on. We went to both of them. In August I was taken into the Grand Medicine Society, and we spent a lot of time preparing for that. I’m a real member now.” 122 Carol Rita “I thought you were a Christian Indian? How come you went into the Grand Medicine Society?” Rita puzzled. “It’s all right being a Christian. I still believe like that. I feel like this, if one religion is good, two religions are better.” “Millie was taken into my group to take the place of an old lady who died. This woman was in our clan, so it was right Millie should take her place in the Society,” Mother confided. Rita remembered what Uncle Matthew had said about waiting until God told you that the Grand Medicine Society was the right road to take. She wondered if God had spoken to Millie, or did Millie join the Society to get prestige with the other Indians? Mother added some news. “Angus McFarland came back. He’s come to see me several times. He looks a lot older and he’s gotten kinda heavy. He gave up that work ‘cause he’s tired of traveling around. He says he wants to settle down here and live like an Indian.” Rita felt Mother’s eyes upon her as she spoke. Angus back!!! He wants to settle down and live like an Indian! To her surprise, she realized she wished Mr. Hall would go away and leave her free. Angus might marry her now….. “I told him you were married and living down here,” Mother continued. “He wanted to know if it was all right if he came to see you sometime.” Rita nodded her head in consent to Angus’ visit. Before she could speak, Millie announced, “I gotta go downtown.” After they had seen Millie out of the door, Mother helped Rita wash the dishes and straighten the kitchen. When the work was finished, Rita felt tired, and lay down on the sofa. Mother settled herself in the mission chair and concentrated on her beadwork. For a while neither of them said a word. At least, Mother broke the silence. “I guess you don’t want me to poke my nose into your business, but you are my daughter, and I’m worried about you. Are you and Mr. Hall having some trouble, him not coming home for noon dinner?” Rita sat up straight. She never would understand Mother. Sometimes she was sure Mother hated her and other times, like now, she knew Mother loved her. She was ashamed to tell Mother about Mr. Hall, but she had to talk to someone. Trouble had been building up between them for a long time now. Words tumbled out of her. Rita 123 “I don’t know what’s wrong with Mr. Hall. Things went pretty good for us, until I told him I was going to have a baby. Then he changed, all of a sudden. He told me it was all my fault. I was hurting his job, getting pregnant the first year, and having a baby is expensive. He said he was going to make a lot of money and nobody would stop him from getting it. I don’t know how he could say such things to me. I was so good to him, and I never hurt him.” Mother sat and stared off to the west, the way Uncle Matthew used to do when he thought real deep. After a time she spoke. “I don’t know much about white men. I never had any personal relations with them, but I’ve studied them when I had to do business with them. You know, the traders, the farmers, and the agency people. Now, you take Mr. Hall. I suspect he’s like a lot of white men who’ve been around here. They marry an Indian woman so as to have someone to look after them and to have a woman to play around with. If she gets pregnant, it’s nothing to do with them. When the time comes for the man to make better money somewhere else, he just takes off and leaves her with the kids. Sometimes, if an Indian woman ain’t careful, a white man’ll get her land and her money. These white men think all Indians are rich ‘cause the Government helps them. They don’t know that our payments come from our own tribal funds the Government holds on to for us.” Rita hated to believe that Mother spoke the truth. Somehow, she felt that she should defend Mr. Hall. “Mr. Hall has a good job. He’ll look after us all right. He’s just started in this new work and he needed some money, so I kinda helped him by signing the paper to sell my west quarter-section. You know, Aunt Tabitha’s allotment.” “You let that nasty, nasty man sell your land?” Mother screamed. Her face grew red with anger. “You got three allotments and a share of your Father’s. You done let that nasty man take your payment money, that I had the Agent save for you when you were small. He got money that was saved from the time you were born! He took it. He must have gotten thousands of dollars. There’s just no telling how much, but there sure was a lot!” The truth of Mother’s words forced Rita to fight back in defense of her pride. “You stole my land, too. You made the Agent have me sign that paper after Father died, and you got my share of his land. You took that land from me.” Rita watched the blue veins stand out on Mother’s hands as she gripped the arms of the chair in anger. Mother didn’t move, but she systematically beat Rita with her words. 124 Carol Rita “I’ve seen too many men just like Mr. Hall come around these parts. In the end they leave their families for some other woman. When that time comes, I’ll help you, if I’m living; you’re my daughter. But don’t you ever expect to get any of my land or my money. As long as I live, you can come stay with me and I’ll look after you. When I die, everything I got goes to Millie. You got land from your Uncle and Aunt and your own allotment, so I ain’t gonna give you a thing. If you give all your land away, that’s your business. I’m not going to tell you what to do. It’s up to you to do what you think’s right.” Rita didn’t have time to answer. She heard Millie come to the door. She pulled her heavy body from the couch and went to the door to greet her aunt. Mother rose, and said without a trace of anger, “I’ll have all my things together by the end of the next week, and come down to stay with you until after the baby gets here.” Millie opened her mouth to say something, but Rita couldn’t stand the thought of more advice so she took over the conversation. “I’ll be careful of what I eat and remember all the things you folks told me. Come down and stay, Millie, while Mother is here. You might get lonesome up at Agency; that is, unless you have a lot of company. “You fresh thing,” Millie shot back. “Millie, Rita, you girls, stop,” Mother ordered. “Millie will be down to visit us, I’m sure.” Mother turned and led the way out of the house. Rita stood on the little wooden stoop, and waved them down the road until they became small figures moving against the horizon. Rita knew she would never understand Mother, the way she was fighting mad one minute and calm the next. Late that night Mr. Hall came home. Rita had already been in bed several hours, when he lit the gas light in their bedroom. “Are you sleeping?” “No.” Rita pulled herself up in bed to talk with him. “I’ve just been lying here, thinking.” “You had your people here all day. I hope they’re all right.” “They’re fine. I kinda wished you’d get back here for noon dinner, to visit with them some.” “I was busy. It’s hard for me to get away, to come home at noon. I even had to stay downtown this evening and tend to things.” Rita 125 Rita watched him carefully hang his jacket over the back of the straight wooden chair and place his trousers on top of it. While he finished undressing and put on his nightshirt, Rita talked quietly about her day. He turned out the gaslight, and started into the living room for the night. Since she had been pregnant she hadn’t let him sleep with her. Mother said that was the right way, the Indian way. “I talked to the Agent about you today. He’s going to have me appointed your legal guardian. Now we can sell your land, or do anything we need to with your money. Things will be easier for both of us that way. We can buy whatever we need to live the way other folks do.” Rita didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure things would be better with Mr. Hall as her guardian. She felt too confused to talk about it. Nowadays people thought differently from the way Uncle Matthew had taught her to think. Everyone, including Mother, talked about nothing but getting money and more money. She wished for the old days, and Uncle Matthew, when the Indian people believed it was a sin to have more of anything than you needed. But it was a wife’s place to let her man manage things. Even white women couldn’t vote. They did what their husbands said about business. “I met a friend of yours today. Sadie Taylor. A man from the office introduced me to her in the restaurant, at noon. She says you and she are ceremonially related some way because she’s your what’s called your gift-friend or something. She certainly is beautiful! The fellow who introduced us says she’s real rich. She’s a widow now – used to be married to some old Osage Indian who died and left her everything. The fellow I know who knows her says she’s smart, too. That old Osage had lots of children and a couple other wives, but Sadie made up to the old man and got everything left to her in his will and got the Agent up there to witness it. He didn’t leave anything to his children. I always say when a smart person has a good opportunity they make the best of it!” Rita buried her face deep into the pillow and let the depth of sleep blot out the troubles of her world. 126 Carol Rita Chapter 18 1914 The angry north wind threw snow across the frozen earth, one morning early in January. The cold pushed through the doors and windows of the little frame house, robbing it of its warmth. Rita sat by the cook stove and gathered the heat from the burning blackjack. Suddenly a sharp pain struck the small of her back. She knew her time had come. “What’s wrong with you?” Mother asked as she poured the dish water into the slop pail. “I don’t exactly know. Just now I had a pain, here in the small of my back.” Mother put down the dishpan and looked at Rita real hard, “Have you been feeling sick anytime at all?” “Yah, in the evenings after we go to bed, I’ve felt sick. I didn’t say nothing; I thought I might be sick at heart ‘cause things have been going on for so long with Mr. Hall and his running around with Sadie Taylor and all like that.” “It’s your baby coming makes you feel that way. I’ll go next door and get that Potawatomi woman. She said she’d come when we needed her. You stay here by the fire ‘till I get back.” Mother tied a black silk handkerchief over her head and wrapped her Pendleton blanket around her body, pulling the fold of the blanket up to cover her head. She took some Indian tobacco to give to the woman, so she could not refuse to come, cold as it was. Rita sat alone and waited. The quiet of the house dimmed her thoughts. She faintly heard the crackle of the fire and felt again the pain of the new life trying to escape from her body. Mother returned with the woman, and they busied themselves heating water and preparing to receive the baby. Rita watched them, and the realization that her time had come sent fear to her heart. She silently prayed, in the Indian way, for God to take care of her and her child. When everything was ready Mother ordered Rita to come into the bedroom and sit on the quilts spread on the floor, under the rawhide straps which Mother had hung from the door frame. Rita 127 “You’re gonna have your baby in the real Indian way, except I couldn’t build a wickieup out in the yard, so we gotta do everything in here.” Mother explained. “Sit here. Lemme know when your pains come.” “I’m scared. I dreamed last night it would pain something terrible. You’ll look after me real good?” “I’ll stay right here. You’ll have pain, but that is right, that is how God meant it to be for women. Women bring new human beings into this world, and a woman must suffer for such a great privilege. When we get something from God, He meant that we should give something in return. You know, like when we cut down a tree we give a little tobacco; well, with some things we have to give from within ourselves instead, like you will now, when you suffer. In return, God will give you another person that will belong to you, if you love your baby and take care of him real good.” Rita nodded, understanding. Even as Mother talked the pain grew worse, forcing her to grip the blanket in search of relief. Mother gave her the two ends of the looped rawhide rope. “When that pain gets real bad, you pull on this rope, hard.” Rita grabbed for the rope and pulled with all her might. The pain came in cycles; each time the moments of pain came closer together. When she pulled the rope it felt as if she pushed the pain from her body, and with it the body. As the pain increased, Rita’s hand grew lighter. She felt as if she were flying away to some strange place. She looked around – she was once again in Haskway Village. Her father came towards her and spoke. “I’m glad you have come, my child. Come with me, and I’ll take you to your Aunt and Uncle.” Rita felt the pain shake her body. “Pull, pull real hard on them ropes,” Mother ordered. Rita tried to obey Mother, but Father had taken her by the arm and was leading her through the village towards Euchee Creek. She wanted to go with Father and leave Mother and Mr. Hall forever. Mother and the woman made her lie down. She obeyed, and the quilts felt warm and soft against her aching back. She was warm and happy. She was walking with Father around the village. Then Rita noticed the fires were out; the people were gone. Mother and the woman pulled Rita forward and made her sit up on her knees. Mother placed the wide part of another rawhide line across Rita’s chest, 128 Carol Rita and passed the rawhide ropes under her arms. In that position Rita hung from the door frame. “Pull, pull hard on this other rope,” Mother ordered again. “You got to pull hard on them ropes to get that baby out of you. It’s not moving. Pull that rope and push down with your stomach. Hard!” Rita heard Mother speaking from the world where her body was, but her spirit was with Father. “Where are all the people?” Rita asked. “I don’t see no one in the village.” “In the years you were growing up into a woman, most of the people moved away. Only a few remain. I guess they will go soon, too. Now we live on the other side of Euchee Creek. Over there our gardens grow real good and there are buffalo and we can hold dances and feasts anytime we want; no missionaries or Government Agents are there to stop us.” Father led Rita across a bridge over Euchee Creek and they walked towards the Grand Medicine Society lodge where the people were holding a ceremony. Rita saw Aunt Tabitha lead the worshippers out fo the lodge and dance around the plank building from north to west. “They aren’t doing that right, Father.” “Yes, they are, my daughter. In this village we do tings opposite from the way you have seen them.” “I want to speak to Aunt Tabitha. She won’t even look at me; she turns her head away from me. She is motioning to you to take me away. Doesn’t she love me? I want Aunt Tabitha. Aunt Tabitha! Aunt Tabitha!” “Rita, stop calling your Aunt Tabitha and drink this tea,” Mother ordered. “Your baby won’t come. If it doesn’t come soon you will die, and so will the child.” The women loosened Rita from the sling, and held her up in a sitting position while Mother made her drink some very hot bitter medicine. When Rita had finished, they put her back into the sling. Then Mother began to sing a prayer song. Again Rita went back to Father. “Come, my daughter, don’t stand here and stare at your aunt. I will tae you to your uncle.” Rita and Father walked to the north, past the Grand Medicine Society lodge. Ahead of her, Rita saw Uncle Matthew sitting on the ground with his head all covered up with a red blanket and his legs outstretched, just the way they put him many years ago, when he was buried in the cemetery on Euche Rita 129 Creek. Next to Uncle Matthew was a mound of dirt, which had come out of a deep grave like the white folks dig. Uncle Matthew didn’t move. He didn’t even look at her. He spoke in a very strange voice which seemed to come from far away. “Go, my niece. You shouldn’t have come. You are too young. Your father has prepared that grave for you so you can stay with us.” “No! I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want my baby. I want to have someone who I’m sure is mine.” “That’s right, my niece. That’s the way it should be. Your father is wrong.” Rita heard Mother singing the prayer song. She wanted to run to Mother, but she couldn’t move. “Wait, my niece. Before you go I want to tell you something. Most of the old folks have gone, and they have taken with them the old ways. You must learn all those old ways you can from the folks who are still with you. I taught Abraham Garfield the old ways, and he will teach you so you can teach your child. In that way the old things will go on for many generations. “Your aunt and I want you to join the Grand Medicine Society. Some day, I don’t know when, someone will come to you and invite you to join. Don’t refuse. Learn all you can and teach your child. That’s the right way. That’s the right road. That’s the way God wants you to travel. Go back, my niece, to your new baby.” Rita heard Mother singing outside the house. When she passed the window of Rita’s room she knocked on the side of the house and called, “Come out, if you are a boy.” The next time round she called, “Come out, if you are a girl.” After Mother did this four times she came back into the house and forced Rita to drink more hot tea. “She’s all right now,” Mother said to the woman. “Lay her back on the quilts and the baby will come.” Rita fell backward and time stood still with her pain. The woman held Rita’s knees straight up and suddenly her body ached no more. She heard Mother’s voice, “It’s a fine boy. He’s just the most beautiful baby I ever did see. It’s too bad you married a white man, though. A boy ought to have his own aunt, his father’s sister, to pinch his little penis for him the first time he gets his diaper changed. Then he’ll grow up a good man and stay with his wife. This way he won’t be able to control his passion. He’ll likely be running wild all over the lot, chasing after every skirt he sees.” Rita was alive. She was happy. Now she had a baby who one day would be a man all her own. 130 Carol Rita Chapter 19 1914 The spring winds flew across the rolling prairie, chasing the cold of the winter from the earth. Here and there small white puffs of clouds enriched the blue of the sky. The earth was awake and filled with the joys of new life. Rita sat stiffly in the front seat of the Studebaker wagon, while her baby, sprawled across her lap, slept soundly. Mr. Schultz had come for her, and at least they were on their way to Mother’s, where her son would receive his Indian name and be accepted by God into the Sauk Tribe. Rita looked at Fredrick Edward, as the boy was christened in the Protestant Church. She admired his gray-blue eyes and thin sandy blonde hair, which contrasted with his high forehead and sharp nose. She thought he resembled Uncle Matthew, who had a white man for a grandfather. She guessed that was the way with the Sauk Indians for a long time. White men came to the tribe as traders, soldiers, and nowadays, as business; they took Indian women for wives and stayed with them for a while; then they would go off and leave the women with children to bring up and care for. She knew Mr. Hall wasn’t any different, by the way he refused to pay any attention to her and Frederick Edward. “I’m glad you’re coming out to stay with your mother for a while,” Mr. Schultz confided as he guided the big plow team through the deep ruts of the main road to Prague. “I think it will be kinda slow to be back on the farm. It gets lonesome down in Shawnee. It sure was good of you to come after me like this.” “Your mother sent me. She said naming the baby had been put off for too long. She said that according to the old ways he should have been named ten to thirty days after his birth. She sure hopes nothing bad will happen waiting so long, like this.” “Naming him late wouldn’t bring my boy bad luck, ‘cause I’m not gonna let nothin’ happen to him. I couldn’t get out here in time to name him when he should have been. I did my best, but I had no money and no one would bring me. It isn’t my fault. Mother wrote me that the chief of the Fish Clan, who has the final say in all religious matters, told her things have to change a little, nowadays, since Rita 131 we don’t have any villages, and the young people go to school, and some of the older men work way off in the cities.” “Your mother’s got four puppy dogs for the ceremony. She’s been fattening them up for the past month. The men are comin’ to kill them tomorrow morning. You gonna eat some of the dogs?” Mr. Schultz inquired. “Yes, ‘cause the Sauk people believe that the dog’s meat is the sacrament and by eating it they receive strength and blessings from God. You don’t have to eat a lot of this meat, just a little piece will do. I want my boy to have all the blessings from God so I’m gonna do everything that’s right. I don’t remember ever eating dog meat before ‘cause I was like an orphan after my aunt died. I lived at Agency.” “You know who’s up at the farm?” Mr. Schultz asked, changing the subject. “Abraham Garfield and Angus McFarland. They heard you were having a naming ceremony and they came around to see you and your mother.” Rita didn’t answer because Fredrick Edward let out a wild scream for his dinner. Rita gathered him comfortingly in her arms and placed him to her breast. While the baby nursed, her thoughts wandered to Angus. This would be their first meeting since she married. Rita and Mr. Schultz rode along in silence. The blue jays sang in the cottonwood trees, the squirrels played tag up and down the elms, and the twisted blackjacks entertained the mockingbirds. Everywhere the world was occupied with new life and new adventures. It was nightfall when Mr. Schultz turned the horses into Mother’s drive, and brought the wagon to a stop alongside the kitchen door. Rita wearily thanked him, and, holding her baby in her arms, slide to the ground. “I’m glad you’re here,” Mother called as she rushed out of the house and grabbed the baby from Rita. “My, he’s a big boy! If he’s this size at four months, he’ll probably be tall like Matthew when he’s grown.” The sharp light of the coal oil lantern pierced Rita’s eyes for a second, as she stepped into the kitchen. She noticed Millie slide an enamelware plate into the dishwater, then wipe her hands on her apron as she came to the door to take Fredrick Edward from Mother. “You leave him alone,” Mother said to Millie, and turned her body to shield the baby. “He’s going to stay here with us for a while and you’ll have plenty of time to play with him. 132 Carol Rita “It’s certainly terrible when a great-aunt can’t even hold her nephew,” Millie said. “Indian way, he’s your grandson just like he’s Elsie’s grandson,” said a tall man rising from his chair, and extending his hand to Rita. “I’ve been in this family, by adoption, quite a time, and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to talk with my niece. I met her when she came with her Mother to invite me to take her Uncle’s place in the family.” Abraham Garfield shook hands with Rita. “I’m glad to see my Uncle,” Rita replied. “See, she’s a fine Indian. Pretty soon she’ll be making jokes with me the way a good niece should do.” “You better watch out,” Mother interrupted, “or she’ll be asking you for something, and as a good Indian Uncle you won’t be able to refuse her.” Everyone laughed at Mother’s joke, except Rita and Abraham Garfield. “Now, Elsie,” Abraham Garfield answered Mother, “She’s your daughter and has been taught well. I know when she asks us for something I will be glad to oblige her and when I ask her for something she will help me.” “You’re taking this adoption business too seriously, Abraham,” Mother replied. This time everyone laughed. Rita looked about the room, and realized that Angus was standing next to her. He shook hands politely with her. “You have a fine baby and you look well.” “Thank you,” Rita answered. “You’re looking good yourself. I heard you were back. I’m glad you came for the naming ceremony.” “He wouldn’t miss a ceremony for his kinfolk,” Mother added. Rita opened her mouth to contradict Mother about Angus’ being kinfolk, but Abraham Garfield shot her a glance to be still. “Elsie,” Abraham Garfield spoke solemnly, “Sometimes it’s hard to tell real kin from pretended kin. Now take you and me, we’ve known each other all our lives, and your daughter adopted me to take her Uncle’s place. Now strange folks, or those Sauk who don’t know much about the old ways, or young folks who never knew I was just adopted for your daughter’s Uncle, would think that we were really kin. Well, in a way, according to our custom, Rita and I are. But in a real way, that is by blood, we’re not kin at all. It’s the same with Angus here. He may be your kin and again he may not be your kin at all. Whichever way it was, real blood kin or adoption, or just a wrong idea about relationships, it was Rita 133 so long ago that nobody living now can remember. I don’t think that those kind of relationships should count after such a long time, even if people belong to the same clan. You know, folks can change their clans, too, when they are adopted, and then they would only seem like relatives.” “Nobody asked you who was my kin, Abraham Garfield,” Mother shot back. Rita felt the tenseness of the conversation and looked at Millie, who quickly filled the serving bowl with boiled beef and corn and put it on the table. “Rita, you and Mr. Schultz haven’t eaten. Here, take a place and have supper so we can get the house cleaned up.” Millie went to the door and called to the neighbor, who came immediately. “I’m sure hungry. We had some meat and cheese for dinner as we rode along, but that don’t hold a man any time.” Mr. Schultz informed them. “Wash your face and hands before you sit down to eat,” Mother commanded. “Did you take care of those horses all right?” “Yah, I rubbed them down and walked them around a bit. They’re eating now.” Rita half listened to the conversation in the room.. Her gaze fell on Angus. He had grown older in the few years since she had last seen him. Perhaps it was because he had grown heavier. No, the extra weight was becoming. Was it because his hair and gotten thinner? No, that didn’t make such difference, Rita thought. The difference was the sadness in his eyes. They sank back into his head and made her feel that that there was loneliness in his heart. She hoped that she would have time to talk to Angus alone, but she knew Mother would keep a watch on her. Perhaps she would get a chance after the naming ceremony, while the guests were still there. Rita dipped her fry bread into the warm corn and boiled beef juice. The familiar flavor brought back memories of her life with Aunt Tabitha. In spite of all her worries and fears, it as good to be home with her people again. “I’m seeing that this naming ceremony is going to be done in the right way,” Mother was saying to the group. “I’ve been thinking real hard, and I believe that it’s up to folks like us to show the others the right way to do things. After all I’m the daughter of a Chief, and I have something to live up to. In times like this, with the new roads and automobiles, everything’s changing so fast that people will forget the old ways, if we don’t do something about carrying them on.” Everyone nodded his head in agreement, and grunted “Ah”. 134 Carol Rita “This baby needs changing,” Mother remarked, handing Fredrick Edward to Rita. Without saying a word, Rita took her son into the bedroom. She changed his diaper in the darkness, which was softened by the beams of light that slid through the half-open door from the kitchen. Then she sat on the edge of the iron bedstead and tenderly placed the child to her breast. They found comfort in each other. In a quiet voice Rita sang an old prayer song. God said, ‘Everybody has a heart I put a heart into your body. You will be strong as long as you have this heart. The heart that I give you beats back and forth. You must take care of your heart. You must not sin. You must believe in Me.’ “That’s a good song,” Angus whispered softly. Rita looked up from her child. “I didn’t hear you come in. Where are the others; where did they go?” “They went out to the religious house to talk to the man who makes the prayers and the men who will kill the dogs tomorrow morning. I stayed behind and brought in some wood, so I could speak with you.” “I’m glad you’ve come,” Rita said searching for security in Angus’ presence. “I don’t quite understand everything that’s going on. Do you?” “I kinda thought you might need me.” Rita looked at Angus with indignation, which melted away as he continued talking. “You know I was away a long time. I had a lot of time to think things over. I still don’t believe in all these Indian ways, but I do know that it’s better to be with my own people. Well, you might say we’re sorta like a big family, and we look after each other. I seen the white man’s world. Now I’m gonna stay right here. I missed you and I hope you’ll come back here, too?” “I don’t know just what I’m gonna do. I don’t want to stay with Mr. Hall. I don’t have anywhere to go, or no money so I don’t know. I can’t come back to Mother.” “You asked me if I understood all about this naming ceremony,” Angus changed the subject as if he were looking for time to think before answering her. Rita 135 “Abraham, he’s been telling me some things about it. He says they hold it in that religious house, but this isn’t gonna be any Grand Medicine Society ceremony. This ceremony is gonna be an old time Sauk Indian ceremony. I don’t know, but I guess the Grand Medicine Society people do about the same things. You know how all the different religious ceremonies get mixed up together.” Angus stopped talking, and walked up and down the room. Rita watched him, wondering what she ought to say. He commenced talking again. “A long time ago I told you I didn’t want to get married. Well, it’s still that way with me. I guess I’m one of those men that don’t quite know which way they’re going. Once I thought I would do things like my Grandma, in the Indian way. Then I went away east to school and I had to do things like a white man. I’ve tried to live in the white man’s world. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I don’t want to get married until I see my way clear. You understand?” “Yah, I understand, kind of. It’s almost the same with me. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me and Fredrick Edward.” “That’s what I was thinking. Now, if you leave this white man I could let you have my Grandma’s old house. I’ve been fixing it up, and it’s in pretty good shape. You won’t even have to carry water, ‘cause I’m putting a pump in the kitchen.” “That’s real nice of you, but I gotta get some work to support this boy and me. Where would you live?” “Well, I was kinda thinking that I could stay in the house, too. That way I’d be right close by and could kinda look after you.” “When I first met Mr. Hall, he thought I could make some money sewing for them white folks who live around Stroud. Your Grandma’s place is near Stroud. What do you think about that?” “That sounds like a real good idea. Even these store-boughten clothes women wear nowadays needs fixin’, they say. If, you’d feel better, you could pay me a little rent or feed me or somethin’. Will you come?” “I’ll see. I’ll have to get my business straight with Mr. Hall. I’ll write you and let you know.” Rita heard Mother and Millie talking, as they approached the house. She busied herself with Fredrick Edward. Angus went off to the kitchen to fix the fire for the night. “You gone to bed, Rita?” Mother called. “No, I just finished tending Fredrick Edward, and then I’m gonna go to sleep.” 136 Carol Rita “You gotta get up before sunrise and watch the men kill the dogs. Everything’s ready,” Mother informed her, as she came into the room and began to prepare for bed. “This ceremony will be done according to the old way. I’m gonna see to that.” “What are you gonna do about Mr. Hall? I could let you stay up here a while, but I’m not gonna take care of you all the time. If you gave that nasty white man all your land and money, you’ll have to go to work and look after yourself. I’ll keep Fredrick Edward here with me.” “I’ll manage to care for myself and my baby. I don’t know what I’ll do.” “You’ll leave Fredrick Edward here with me. I won’t have him going back to that nasty white man. I’ve made up my mind I’m gonna take your baby for my own, just like the Sauk people have always done. It’s a Grandmother’s place to raise a grandchild. You understand! He’s mine!” “My son is mine. He’s the only one in the whole world I’m sure I belong to. I got plans. I’m not gonna let you ruin his and turn him into an old-time Indian.” Rita gathered her son into her arms and went into the far bedroom to sleep with Millie. Mother stormed after her. “You nasty, nasty thing. Here I do all this for you and you don’t appreciate any of it. When this ceremony is over you can get off my place. I’d chase you off now, but what would folks think?” Rita closed the door between the rooms and Mother’s voice became a muffled rage. Deep darkness covered the earth when Rita awoke. Outside, she heard the hushed voices of men and women as they hurriedly finished preparing for the dawn ceremony. Rita dressed, and bundled Fredrick Edward up in blankets to go outdoors. When Sun first looked upon the earth He would see the baby and Fredrick Edward would receive a blessing. Outside, Rita saw groups of men and women clustered around the large cooking fire, to ease the cold sting of the spring air. She knew that the men who made the prayers had lighted the fire with the sacred flints, at least an hour before. The water in the large copper pots had already reached a bubbling boil. As she walked towards the women cooks, Abraham Garfield came to her side and took Fredrick Edward from her arms. “I will hold my nephew. Today he will be named, and then God will know him as a Sauk Indian.” Rita 137 “I’m kinda scared,” Rita whispered. “Mother…..” “Never mind about your mother. You mustn’t fight at a feast, or something will happen.” Grandfather Sun crept over the rolling eastern hill to smile on the world. Swiftly the earth came to life. The birds began to sing and the people began to move about, in anticipation of the new day. The man who made the prayers came out of the religious house and stood facing the morning sun. He recited the old prayers of his people and offered sacred Indian tobacco to the four directions: east, south, west, and north. When he had finished, the four men who were the hereditary dog-killers came forward, with wooden clubs in their hands. A puppy dog was placed facing east, at each of the cardinal points of the lodge. Some food was put on the ground before them, and as the animals bent their heads to eat each man raised his club and let it fall, crushing the skull of a dog. The sacrifice was as it should be; not a drop of blood was shed. The people were pleased. The hushed quiet of the people encouraged the men as they gathered up their dead dogs and carried them to the fire. There the men singed the dogs’ hair and butchered the bodies, and placed them each in a separate pot of boiling water to cook. Four other brass kettles hung over the flames of the religious cooking fire: corn and beef, corn and chicken, green beans, and dried pumpkin. The eight pots of food represented the eight helpers of God – Trees, Rocks, Water, Fire, Night (moon), Day (sun), Wind, and the Bear. When this part of the ceremony was over, Rita took her baby from Abraham Garfield and went into the house to dress and prepare the child for the naming ceremony. The sun climbed to the top of the sky, and its clear bright light covered the earth with diamonds. The cryer called the people to come and gather in the religious house for the naming ceremony. The large kettles were taken form the fire, and placed in the center of the religious house. The men from the opposite clan from Rita, who served as waiters, lifted the cooked heads of the dogs from the kettles and placed them facing east at the door of the lodge. Next, the head waiters summoned the four men who were to represent the two divisions of the tribe, black and white, to the center of the religious house. 138 Carol Rita Before each man he placed selected equal portions of the hot dog meat. At the signal the men quickly gobbled down the meat, racing to see who could finish first. They were ceremonially enacting the competition within the tribe which had existed as part of the Sauk life for hundreds of years. After the eating race was over, an old man from Mother’s clan rose and took Fredrick Edward from Rita. He stood in the center of the religious house, facing east, holding the baby in his arms. “I have thought a long time about the name for this boy, who is the grandson of my clan sister. My clan sister is a fine woman who has lived a good life and followed the right road. I think it only fitting and proper that he have the name that was given to a great warrior and religious leader of our tribe. This name has never been used again, after this man died. “I give the name Great Power to this baby.” Rita never heard the prayers that were offered for her son. Her mind was filled with the warning given by the first Great Power. Uncle Matthew had told her: “The people say that his power came a long time ago, so long ago that no one remembers. It must have been when Great Power was a very young man, when the fires burned bright in the villages on the Rock River in Illinois and Iowa. It must have been when the people were happy, before the white man captured the sacred island where the white bird spirit lived. It was before the crops were destroyed, and the village went hungry. It was before the people became afraid. It was before the people made their long trip from Iowa, to Kansas and on to Oklahoma. “Great Power led his people bravely in war and made great personal sacrifices for his people, so they might live prosperous and happy lives. One day Great Power blackened his face with ashes, put on old moccasins, and went to a place where no human being had ever been. There Great Power prayed to his God and fasted a long time. Then he returned to the village. “Great Power told the people in return for all his good deeds to them, God had changed his name to Great Power. This name would give his great wisdom and strength for the rest of his life. He told the people, though, that God had warned him that the name Great Power must never be given to another man. If this name were given to a man it would bring him a life-long course.” For a long time the people had obeyed. Today the old man had gone against God’s wishes. Rita 139 Rita felt Mother had wanted to hurt her by giving Fredrick Edward the cursed Thunder clan name. She wanted to cry out, and run forward and grab her baby, and carry him safely out of the Indian world of curses and revenge. She felt Abraham Garfield and Angus place their hands on her arms. “Don’t say nothin’,” Abraham Garfield whispered. “It’ll only make things worse. You shouldn’t fight at a feast, otherwise something will happen. God knows you didn’t have nothing to do with naming the boy. God will take care of that old man and whoever he talked to about the name.” “All this belief is old Indian ways. We know better than to take it seriously,” Angus said sympathetically. “Only trouble is, I can’t figure out what not to believe. Those old Indian ideas keep chasing me around all the time.” The old man had finished his prayer. He motioned Rita to come take the baby, and eat some of the food from the sacred kettles. With anger in her heart she stepped forward and took the baby. She reached for the large wooden dipper from the waiter and nausea covered her body as she took the first mouthful of dog meat. She forced herself to chew. She remembered it was the sacrament, as its juice flavored her mouth. She began to feel good all over. Strength came to her mind and body. She prayed to God to show her the right road and to take care of her son. The waiters went among the people with invitation sticks. They pointed the little cane sticks at those who were invited to eat next in the lodge. On and on through most of the day, the waiters hurried among the people, until everyone was fed and the naming ceremony was over. When the sun dropped off the edge of the earth into the west, all the people had left. The religious house was closed against the spirits of the night. The coal oil lantern burnt bright in Mother’s kitchen, as the family gathered around the large table to talk over the events of the day. “Why did you allow that old man to name the baby Great Power?” Abraham Garfield asked Mother. “You know that name will put a curse on him.” “It will not do any such thing. That’s a good name. I want my grandson to have a powerful name.” “You sure placed a powerful name all right,” Angus observed. “I remember when I was little, my Grandma warned me about the name Great Power and that name didn’t even belong to my clan.” 140 Carol Rita “Shut your mouth, Angus,” Mother interrupted. “Rita believes like the white people, so it won’t make any difference what name this baby has. The way I look at it, since he’s only half Sauk, he can have any name. That old silly story won’t have any meaning for him.” “I’m scared,” Rita said almost to herself and yet to all of them. Carefully she tucked the baby into the front of her dress to nurse. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, my niece,” Abraham Garfield said. “You have done no wrong. God will punish those who have sinned.” Without saying anymore he rose and took his hat from the hook beside the door. Angus followed him. Solemnly they shook hands with the women and went out of the door, to hitch up their horses and wagons. Rita pulled Fredrick Edward from her breast and pushed him into Millie’s arms. Without speaking to Mother she rushed out the door after Angus. “I wanted to say something to you before you left. How soon will it be before you get that house fixed up? I can’t stay with her. She hates me and she’ll hurt my baby.” “I’ll have that house all ready by the time you attend to your business with Mr. Hall. I’ll come after you real soon,” Angus replied. “Remember, my niece, don’t fight with your mother. What has been done is done. Now you must protect your son by believing in God. God will look after both of you. Trust in God.” Abraham Garfield stopped talking and signaled the big plow team to move down the drive and away from the animosities of the day. Rita walked quietly back into the house. She knew Uncle Matthew had spoken to her through Abraham Garfield. Rita 141 Chapter 20 1914 The midsummer heat beat down on the dry red earth in front of the little house in Shawnee. The brownish-green leaves of the big elm bobbed in the warm southwest breeze and splashed bits of shade across the front lawn and on to the shallow porch of the house. The silence of the heat was pierced by the rumble of the big farm wagon as the two heavy mares jerked to a step in the shade of the elm. Rita sat rigidly on a straight wooden chair and pulled her eyes away from Fredrick Edward, who was trying to push himself on his stomach over the quilt spread on the porch floor. Rita saw Angus jump to the ground, tie the horses to the elm, and stride up the walk to the porch. There he stopped, and waited for her to speak. The decision that Rita had procrastinated about reaching must now be made. She must choose either to go with Angus back into the Indian life, or to stay with Mr. Hall in the white man’s world. She was afraid to think about either alternative. She waited for Angus to find the words for her. He seemed to understand. “I’ve heard a lot of talk up at Agency about Mr. Hall’s running off with that Shawnee woman, Sadie Taylor. I would’ve come before now, but I ran out of money to pay for fixing the house, and I had to work a spell for the blacksmith. But I got everything fixed up all right now.” “I knew you’d come sometime. I got my things all together. I didn’t tell Mr. Hall.” She rose and started through the door, then she stopped and added, “You kinda heard wrong; he doesn’t stay with that woman all the time. He comes back here to me and Fredrick Edward, too.” Angus had no time to reply, for Rita disappeared into the dullness of the house. She moved without hesitation and without thought, obeying Angus the way she used to obey Uncle Matthew when she was a child. She made Fredrick Edward’s few things into a bundle, and placed it beside the door. Then she gathered up her own clothes, and carefully packed them into her straw suitcase. At the back of the close hung the green satin evening dress Mr. Hall had bought her for the dinner-dance. She picked it up and started to pack it, but the painful memories cling to its folds made her hang the dress back in the closet. Next, Rita packed her cooking utensils and dishes in several large lard cans. 142 Carol Rita Rita and Angus never spoke as they worked together. The house quickly took on the impersonality of an unoccupied dwelling. Rita kept looking around her, finding little items of her personal belongings, such as an unfinished beaded belt on its loom, and a half-finished plaited woolen sash still attached to the kitchen table. She had left it tied there after she unfastened the other and from the doorknob when she had finished weaving. “Take down that picture of Abraham Lincoln,” Rita ordered Angus. “I want to take my wedding license, too. I want folks to know that Fredrick Edward ain’t no bastard like some of these Indian kids. I want them to know that I’m a good woman. You put all them things in the wagon and put Fredrick Edward in toe, I got one more thing to do. Then I’ll be along.” Rita took a small note pad and pencil from her black leather purse, and sat down by the kitchen table. She began to write in her perfect Palmer script. “Dear Mr. Hall: “I wanted to tell you this the last time you came here to have me sign a paper. There wasn’t time. I’ve always been good to you. I tried to do what was right. I want folks to love me. I guess we just can’t make it together. I did the best I could. I gave you all my money I had at Agency. I let you sell all my land so you could keep your pride and get ahead with the railroad. All that just didn’t seem to do any good. “I thought the whole thing over. I’m going back to my people. Angus McFarland came for me today. I’m going to stay with him up near Stroud. I left all your things here and all the furniture except a few pieces like the bed. “If you should care to see your son, you can come up and visit me. “Fredrick Edward belongs to me. I’m going to bring him up to be good like an Indian. Sincerely yours, Rita Borden Hall.” Rita carefully read what she had written. She folded the paper in half and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table, so Mr. Hall could see it the next time he came to have her sign some kind of paper. She closed and locked the door, and placed the key in the mailbox. She walked deliberately to the wagon and Fredrick Edward and Angus. Rita 143 Part Six Chapter 21 1919 Where am I going? You go following the road, death road. We don’t go anywhere but to death, Even if we go and hide between the earth and heavens. •Five years passed since Rita returned to live near Agency and her people. The events of these years melted into the present and pressed upon her previous experiences in the white man’s world. She pulled her conscious thoughts tighter and tighter around herself until she produced a form of life from which she could never escape. Even the World War did not effect Rita’s world. Rita’s return to the Indian community was received with indifference by everyone except Mother and Millie. They kept harping on the clan relationship between Rita and Angus. Rita, as always, shut her ears to their arguments. She worked at sewing for the white women in Stroud, to support herself and her son. What she did with her life was her business. Angus came and went; sometimes rumors of his affairs with other women drifted back to her, but she always closed her ears. She had what she wanted, someone who belonged to her – she had a son. Angus and other men provided the balance of life necessary for a woman; beyond that she neither wanted nor cared for any one man’s constant attention. Mother grew feebler and feebler with the passing days. She kept on doctoring with Indian medicine. At last, Rita and Millie forced her to go to the white 144 Carol Rita man’s doctor at Agency, to see if he could help her. The Doctor informed them that Mother had developed diabetes, from eating too much store bread and fried foods. Mother died after a year’s illness. Rita and Millie held the adoption ceremony for her several weeks later. Rita felt strange without Mother. She felt lonely, and sometimes scared, when she realized that now she had no one except Fredrick Edward. But she really didn’t ever belong to Mother. Uncle Matthew had told her years ago about Mother’s giving her away to Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Matthew. How could Mother have done that, if she had really belonged to her? Maybe she belonged to Mother, but did she belong to Father? Maybe Father made Mother get rid of her. Around and around Rita went with her speculations. One thing she was sure of. She never would give Fredrick Edward away to anyone. Rita had another feeling about Mother. She reluctantly admitted it, and only to herself. Rita was glad Mother was dead. Now, there would be no one to interfere with her life – she could do what she wanted. And there was no one to take Fredrick Edward away from her. Black clouds hovered near the little wooden house on the highway between the Sauk Agency and Stroud. Rita and Fredrick Edward stood on the front stoop and watched the clouds draw parts of themselves together, forming cavities in their bellies. Rita feared a tornado was coming, and left the little boy. She went into the house for a tobacco offering to give the storm so it would go away. She came out on the porch again and threw four pinches of sacred Indian tobacco into the wind. She prayed silently for God to take care of her and Fredrick Edward. “Come, son,” Rita commanded, and led the way into the house. It was four-thirty. There wasn’t time enough to finish the hem on the white woman’s dress before supper. It was too dark inside the house for her to do any sewing, and it was too early to turn on the coal oil lantern. Rita went into the kitchen and commenced to peel a few potatoes to boil for supper. The minutes ticked by on the big alarm clock, and through their sound she could hear Fredrick Edward talking to someone. She dipped some water from the bucket into her pot and put the potatoes on to boil. Quietly she moved across the kitchen to peek through the door into the living room. She saw Abraham Garfield. Rita 145 “Hello, there, I didn’t know anyone was out here,” she greeted him, and shook hands. “I came to the door looking for you, and this here fellow told me to come in out of the storm.” “I made him come in, so I guess he thought everybody else should be indoors,” Rita smiled. “Sit down.” “Well, he has fine manners. He acts like a Sauk should. You’re teaching him to be a good Indian.” “I’m gonna try, but I don’t know what will happen when he has to go to school. I guess you heard that the Government is going to close Agency – the whole thing. We’ll have to go down to Shawnee for everything. I guess things will be different up here after that.” The tall man settled himself into the mission chair and rolled a cigarette. After he had thoroughly licked the paper he deliberately placed the tube in his mouth. He lit a wooden match against the grain of his pants. He lit his cigarette, sending clouds of smoke into the air. Then he spoke seriously. “Yah, I guess things will be different around here. Everybody will be moving away pretty soon. I don’t like it, but Washington never does listen to us poor Indians. I come to talk to you about some business. Angus, he ain’t here?” Rita nodded no and pushed up straighter in her chair. “You know that your mother and some of the old people have passed on. Well, we younger ones have been kinda thinking. We thought we better take some new members into the Grand Medicine Society. Otherwise when we die, the whole belief will be gone. Your Uncle Matthew taught me all about this way, and he asked me to look after you. Your Aunt Tabitha was kinda my kin some way by adoption, and she belonged to this Society and followed its path. I thought you might want to walk the same road as your old folks?” Tears came to Rita’s eyes. “I knew you would come,” she stammered. “I’m so happy, and so honored. I had a vision. Uncle Matthew, he told me they would ask me some day. I can’t tell you about my vision of him, but that’s the way it was. I had this vision when my boy there was born. I visited the land of the dead. I saw Uncle Matthew. My father wanted me to stay there in the land of the dead, but Uncle Matthew sent me back here to my people. I can’t tell you everything, but that’s how it went.” 146 Carol Rita “I want to take you into my group to take the place of old lady Grant, who passed away during the winter. You can have her holy otter skin, which has been passed down from generation to generation, since the Sauk left the Great Lakes. “I’ll teach you about the Grand Medicine Society. There have been a lot of changes in the Grand Medicine Society, and we have lost a lot of our people, so we don’t do things the same way we used to. We kinda have to make adjustments. I will come different times for the next four years, and teach you. The Grand Medicine Society way will be your religion. At the end of the four years, in the summer, we’ll have a Grand Medicine Society ceremony and then we’ll take you into the Society. “There’s something else you ought to understand before you agree to come in as a member. Remember, once you agree to join, you can’t turn back. If you do, something bad will happen to you. For these four years you must live just like you were in mourning. You must out your hair; wear plain clothes, and no face paint. You can’t go to dances or do anything like that. It will be just like you are in mourning. All that time I will look after you and teach you. When the four years are up, you’ll be free. You can dance in the Grand Medicine Society ceremony.” “I don’t mind. I’ll do just like you say. Angus goes and comes all the time. Anyway, he’ll understand why I want this. I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t ever go back. I want to be like Uncle Matthew and Aunt Tabitha. They were good, and this is a good road, the right road. I want that road for my son, too.” “When I teach you, you’ll have to pay me. You’ll have to give me presents. It will cost you a lot of money.” “I’ll work real hard. I’ll pay you. If I can’t make it alone, I’ll get Millie to help me. I gave Mother and Millie my savings to help them when Father died. Mother stole my land when I was young and working at Agency. She made me sign a paper and took my land. She gave Millie that land when she died. I’ll make Millie help me.” “All right. If you understand and agree, we can start tonight.” “I’ll fix us some supper, and put Fredrick Edward to bed.” Long into that night, and through many other nights of the next four years, Rita listened to Abraham Garfield. That first evening she pledged by her life never to tell the secrets of the Grand Medicine Society. They were held in sacred trust by the members, to be taught to new believers, and never to be divulged to the other people. Rita 147 Abraham Garfield explained that the Society had several grades or degrees. A person advanced from one degree to another by learning the mystery belief, as a child learns about life. He became more philosophical, and explained how it is necessary for men and nature to be in harmony. In the winter nature looks dead, but in the spring there is a resurrection. Everything is reborn and comes alive again. This is the way man lives when he enters the Society; membership is his rebirth and entry into a new way of life. Man’s journey through life is symbolized in the ceremony, by his going around the Grand Medicine Society Lodge, which represents the Earth. Abraham taught Rita how to care for her otter skin. The otter was the holy animal of the Grand Medicine Society. Abraham explained that a person must have a vision, which gave him permission to trap and kill an otter to obtain a new skin. He told Rita how she should pas her otter skin on to someone else when the time came, and how to return the otter skin to the earth when it was old and worn. Rita learned good medicine and bad, prayers, songs, fasting techniques, ceremonial procedures for adoptions, burial customs, and initiation of new members, and many of the other secret customs. She learned the story of the Society, which had been handed down from the old people to the younger ones for over ten generations. Rita’s mind filled with mystic thoughts, which permeated her life. She strove to reconcile her new religious ideas with those she had learned at Agency School. She, like Abraham Garfield and man Sauk before them, focused their Christian teachings in terms of the Grand Medicine Society. The Sauk cultural hero, Gittchie Manatowa, became the dark-skinned brother of Jesus Christ, who left the Holy Land and came to the people. The creation of the world became blurred with Christian doctrine in telling, until the old stories held new meaning. This change in thought had come about so slowly that no one knew it had taken place. Rita spent all her time during the four years learning the secrets of the Grand Medicine Society and earning money to pay Abraham Garfield for teaching her. Angus hung around the house part of the time, and when he felt too shut out went away for weeks to visit his friends in the white world. Fredrick Edward spent more and more time at Millie’s house, playing with the white neighbor children. He entered the white man’s world when he started school in Stroud. The world moved forward into the recklessness of the 20s, while Rita moved backward to the mysteries of the past. 148 Carol Rita Part Seven Chapter 22 1923 •The dry, hot summer wind swept the plains with loose red soil. Rita rubbed a damp cloth across her forehead to soak up the perspiration, as the Franklin surged up the dirt road towards Cushing. “My, I got a dirty face,” she remarked to Angus, as she folded the cloth to conceal the gritty streak. “No, you don’t, not really. This wind stirs things up when you drive as fast as twenty-five miles an hour. We’ll get to the Thunder clan ceremonial grounds soon, and then you can clean up. You’re just excited about being taken into the Grand Medicine Society so you’re worrying about everything. You’re even more excited today than when you rode with Uncle Matthew in the gift friend ceremony, when you were a little kid. Remember that?” “I was trying to think why I felt as if this had all happened to me before. In a way it does sorta remind me of the gift friend ceremony, only this time I won’t get a nasty friend like Sadie Taylor.” “I guess it reminds you of the gift friend ceremony ‘cause both times you got all the attention,” Angus looked at her, and smiled. “You joke kinda strange sometimes. It reminds me of the gift friend ceremony ‘cause both times we camped, and a lot of people came. That was very spiritual, and this is spiritual, too. I guess maybe you don’t understand them things. “I hope Frederick Edward is all right. I let him go up with Millie yesterday ‘cause he wanted to visit with them kids he met at school last year. I hope he gets to the ceremony. I want him to learn this Indian way of doing things. I’ve Rita 149 let him spend a lot of time with Millie during the last four years ‘cause I’ve been so busy working to pay Abraham Garfield for what he taught me. I learned a lot from him, and now I can teach everything to Fredrick Edward.” “You can teach it to him if he wants to learn. He done spent a lot of time with white folks, and it’s hard to tell how he’ll feel.” “Oh, you menfolks! You’re all just alike. Just ‘cause a woman don’t spend all her time with you, you get put out. Fredrick Edward’s different. He’ll understand when the time comes. I’ve already explained things to him. From now, I’ll be able to give him lots of time.” “I hope you’re right,” Angus muttered, as he swung the Franklin into the long drive which led into the camp grounds around the Thunder clan ceremonial house. He squeezed the rubber bulb of the trumpet horn, sending harsh, unmusical notes through the camp, and snapping everyone’s eyes in the direction of the dark red touring car. The Head Leader of the Grand Medicine Society mentioned Angus to park his automobile in an open area in the northeast section of the grounds, near Abraham Garfield’s camp. Here Rita and Angus set up their tents. The participants’ camps at a Grand Medicine Society ceremony were arranged around the ceremonial lodge in the same order as the members would sit within the lodge. Rita, who was to be inducted, would sit by the door in the northeast section, on the left side of Abraham Garfield, her sponsor. Abraham Garfield helped Rita and Angus set up their camp and unload their provisions and gifts from the tightly-packed Franklin. After everything was in order, Abraham Garfield took Rita around the camp circle to visit friends and relatives. In the excitement of the day, Rita forgot to look for Fredrick Edward. The older members of the Grand Medicine Society hurried about, talking with each other and with the Head Leader of the Grand Medicine Society. The procedures for the ceremony must be decided, and points of dissension must be reconciled by the senior members before anything more could be done. The camp buzzed with excitement throughout the evening. The tension of the atmosphere drove Rita far into her mystic thoughts. Dawn light covered the earth when the men ceremonially clubbed the sacramental dogs to death. Later, the large copper pots of dog meat, corn and beef, pumpkin, beans, and chicken and corn added their bubbling sound to 150 Carol Rita the human voice of the camp. The sun had climbed from behind the earth and watched from high in the sky as the members lined up to enter the Grand Medicine Society lodge. The Head Leader stood first, by the door; then came Rita; then her sponsor, Abraham Garfield; then the leader of the first group, followed by its members, and the other groups in their order. The older people stood first in each group, followed by the younger ones. When all eight groups assembled, the Head Leader entered the Lodge. The others followed him in order. Each member held a decorated otter hide in his right hand, with its head lying on the palm of his left hand. The members moved the otter skins so that the limp fur seemed to come alive. Rita could see the otters swimming past her, with their long red, green, yellow, and blue ribbons streaming from their noses, like the colors of a rainbow arching above the earth. She thought they were sure pretty. The Head Leader went around the inside of the ceremonial house four times, while the younger members stood at the west end of the lodge and sang. As the last verse of the Entering Song ended, Rita was seated by the door, leaning against a burr oak stump. That was the way the great god Wi’saka sat when he was inducted into the Grand Medicine Society. Rita watched the leaders of the ceremony shoot the mystical power of the otters into their bodies and fall to the floor, each for four times. The leader of each group lay prostrate until his group had sung his song, and then returned to his place. Then the Head Leader and his assistants moved to the east end of the lodge and sang: God fasted through the winter night to receive His power, After the cricket had gone away, When only the red bird was left, And even he had put away his song. All the world was asleep ------ The flowers, the trees, the insects, the animals. All were asleep When God fasted for power. Rita 151 God fasted through the winter night, The Devil right beside Him. ‘I’m your power,’ the Devil said. God closed His ears through the winter night. God fasted through the winter night, The Devil tried to fool Him. The Devil tried to change into a flower, or a tree, Or an insect, or an animal, Who would say, ‘I am Your power.’ All were asleep; None heard him call. The Devil alone must conquer God. God’s power was strong. God fasted through the winter night, The Devil right beside Him. ‘It is at night my power is strong; Come with me,’ the Devil pleaded. ‘All that is beautiful will be Yours. Everything that You can see, will be Yours.’ God prayed for strength through the winter night, The Devil right beside Him. God heeded not and fasted on. His fears grew less. God fasted through the winter night, While the Devil boasted. ‘I can go everywhere. I can get anyone. I can get You! Come with me. I’ll give You all the good things. I can give You beauty. I can give you the world.’ 152 Carol Rita God fasted through the winter night, Gaining strength and courage. Before the dawn His power came. He told the Devil freely, ‘You are trying to fool Me. You, the Devil, can use nice words to lead Me astray. You promise Me good, but you are the Devil. You are evil. You destroy good. My power is greatest. I am beauty. I am Good. I am Love.’ God fasted through the winter night, Until He heard the red bird’s song. It was the dawn ----- The world awoke. God ceased to fast. He had gained His strength. Four times the leader sang the song, and each time Rita listened to it as if she had never heard it before. It was so beautiful. It reminded her of the hymns she used to sing at Agency School. Suddenly, Rita thought about Fredrick Edward. She searched through the faces peering into the lodge from the large windows along the sides. She looked and looked for Fredrick Edward. At last she saw him. His head was propped on the windowsill, and his little hands, held high over his head, clutched the slingshot Angus had made for him. She wanted to yell at him to stop. She breathed deeply to get the maximum voice; then she held her breath. A wad of wet paper zoomed past the head of an old man in the northwest corner of the lodge. Rita shut her eyes, and let the words of the “Prayer Song” chase the terror from her heart. What would happen to Fredrick Edward if he went on this way? What would happen to her? Had Mother been right when he was born? Would Fredrick Edward never be able to control his passions and impulses? She listened: Rita 153 God loves His people. God created the world. God created medicine for His people. God wants His people to be well. To be bright like the sun. God loves His people. God gives medicine to His young people. He gives them Medicine Bundles to keep them well. God gave everyone Medicine for his life alone. God loves His people. God listens to His people’s prayer songs. The people love their God. They sing, ‘This is the way I look now, when I am young. I want to look young all my life. I will do the right things in my life. I will follow the good road in my life. When I am sick I will take powerful Medicine, To receive God’s blessing. God loves His people. God wants His people to be well and bright. The people thank God for their blessings, God listened to His people, God helped His people. The song was over, and the waiters brought in the large brass pots of food. There were so many pots that Rita stared at them in amazement. She knew that each of the eight groups had provided eight pots of food. She tried to calculate in her mind how many pots were in the center of the lodge, but that kind of figuring was too hard for Rita. She knew there would be enough food for everyone in camp, and that was all that mattered. The waiters hurried about the ceremonial house, seeing that everyone was fed, and that the lodge was cleaned up. The drum was set in front of Abraham Garfield, who started the first song of the next portion of the ceremony. 154 Carol Rita The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. God sent four otters to the people. The otters are God’s messengers. The younger members of Abraham Garfield’s group danced, standing before the older members. The older members stood singing and shaking their otter skins at the young people. Abraham Garfield’s strong baritone voice blended with the beat of the water drum and the rattle of gourds struck against pillows held in the players’ arms. The little bells ornamenting the otter skins’ legs sent high tones of sound through the song, blending with the women’s voices. The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. God sent two men and two women otters. God wanted His lesson to be forever with the people. The otters are God’s messengers. The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. The women otters were painted green, Like the Mother Earth who gives us our life. The men otters were painted red, Like the blood that flows from men in battle. God dressed the otters in ribbons. God made the otters beautiful. The otters are God’s messengers. The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. The men took the otters back to the people. They will show us the good road to follow through life. The otters are God’s messengers. Rita 155 The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. The people, to honor God, made the otters beautiful. They decorated them with paint and quills, Little hawk bells, and colored ribbons, The otters are God’s messengers. The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. The people, to honor the otters, built a Lodge. The otters are God’s messengers. The otters came to the people, From out of the ocean. The first otters died, but their children Stayed with the people. They taught the people God’s lessons. The otters are God’s messengers. The song ended. Abraham Garfield shot himself with the sacred otter and fell motionless on the floor of the lodge. He lay quietly for a while, and then started to moan and groan his way back to consciousness. Abraham Garfield rose to his feet and vomited the sacred cowrie shell he had shot into himself with the otter in the palm of his hand. Around the lodge he went, showing the people that he had God’s power within him; that he was a good man and had followed the right road. His group sang for him while he circled the lodge: God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in me. All through my life in the Grand Medicine Society, I have kept God’s spirit in my body. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell, God’s spirit is in me. 156 Carol Rita I bring the sacred shell from my body. See! See! I have carried God’s spirit in me. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell, God’s spirit is in me. Now I am old. I have followed a good road. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell. God’s spirit is in me. Now, just as when I entered this Society, I swallow the sacred shell. God’s spirit will always be with me. God’s spirit is in the sacred shell.” The water drum moved solemnly from group to group around the lodge, from northeast to southeast. Each group sang in turn, and enacted the ceremony of the sacred shell. Millie’s group was the last to perform. Rita listened as they sang Mother’s prayer song: This is the holy gourd. It was made from Mother Earth. It will take care of us. It is beauty. This is the holy gourd. It is like the rainbow. It goes from here to there, You don’t know where the rainbow ends. It will take care of us. It is beauty. Rita 157 This is the holy gourd. It will be like the rainbow, It will be pretty. It will take care of us. It is beauty. It was almost as if Mother were there. Rita gazed through the windows for Angus, and wondered if something bad would happen to them, as Mother had prophesied, because they were together. But then, they were not really the same clan. No one knew how they were related, or even if they were. The verses of the song filled the lodge, and Rita grew more and more bitter as she thought about the cursed named of Great Spirit that Mother had given Fredrick Edward. The thought terrified her. Why, she wondered, why did Mother do that? Rita felt more than ever that Mother couldn’t have loved her if she gave her away. She wondered, to whom did she belong? She put that thought, and its accompanying chill of fear, aside. She knew that she belonged only to Fredrick Edward. She would teach him the right road, the Grand Medicine Society belief, so that he would always belong to her. Religion would bind them together, and keep him always on the right road. The last verse of the song was sung directly to Rita: This is the holy gourd. It is like the teachings of God. It will take care of us. It is beauty. Now it was time for her to be inducted into the Grand Medicine Society. The waiters spread a new blanket on the floor, in front of the fire of life, on the east side of the lodge. From the ridge pole they hung Pendleton blankets, bolt of cottons, and yards of calicoes which would be given to the Head Leader, Abraham Garfield, the cooks, and waiters. Abraham Garfield painted Rita’s face with the sacred red paint, and then sat down beside her. As they watched, the Head Leader, with one of the old men, circled the lodge with their otter skins. They pretended to be tracking someone down. The men stopped at the west end of the lodge. 158 Carol Rita Abraham stood up and spoke to Rita. “We are going to take you into this Society. You will be reborn. That is, your life will start again when you have this sacred shell in your body. You will receive from God the power to live a good life. You will have to obey the rules of the Society, be good and kind to old people. You must love our children, and you must teach them how to carry on our ways. You should be good to everybody. You must live a good clean life, and believe in the keep secret the sacred things you have learned. “Now I’m going to shoot the spirit of God into your body. This sacred shell, the symbol of God’s blessing and power, will stay with you always, if you follow the right road and remain a good woman.” Rita felt her muscles tighten. Uncle Matthew had told her they would come for her someday, and somebody would show her the right way. She knew at last there was truly a Great God in the Indian way of believing. She knew He had sent her a word. Abraham Garfield and an old man raised their otter skins and shook them at Rita, as they sang, first facing east: God is so powerful. God can do anything. God is not afraid of the flowers, The insects, or the animals. God is power over all the earth.” They sang to the North: God is so powerful. God created the world. To show His power, God made Moccasins from the skin of Na-Tu-Wah, The rattlesnake. God is power over all the earth. Then they sang to the West: Rita 159 God is so powerful. He is stronger than anything on earth. He is stronger than rocks, than animals. Than trees, than flowers, God is the power over all the earth. And last, to the South: God is so powerful, That he could make moccasins from Na-Tu-Wah. Na-Tu=Wah’s poison was like water. God is the power over all the earth. Now the Head Leader made a speech at the end of the song. He told about his war deeds, and how he had had a vision which had given him power to learn all the songs of the Grand Medicine Society. He promised to give Rita all his powers, so she would receive strength to live a good life. The old man who had danced with Abraham Garfield seated himself at the west end of the lodge. Abraham Garfield circled the lodge alone, shaking his otter skin and calling out the secret words of the Grand Medicine Society. Now the attendants helped Rita stand up, in readiness for the magic shot. Fear gripped her heart as she watched Abraham Garfield shoot himself, and then vomit up the sacred shell and show it to the people. He did this four times. Everything was ready. The attendants threw a blanket over Rita’s head. She must not dodge away from the sacred shooting. Abraham Garfield pointed his otter skins at her, and jerked it forward with the mystery cry. The power of God shot from the holy otter skin into Rita. Four times Abraham Garfield shot her, and four times she fell to the ground. The last time, she lay there while the attendants stripped her of her outer garments and bared her to the waist. Rita’s clothes, and all the gifts on the ridge pole, were given to the Head Leader for distribution. Rita lay unconscious. Abraham Garfield made four attempts to revive her. At last she was given a magic drink to bring her back to the world of the living. 160 Carol Rita The attendants rolled out a bolt of green cotton cloth so it stretched way outside the east door, through the lodge and out the west door. The cloth symbolized life’s road. A person enters life from the East, and leaves it in the West. The attendants pulled Rita to her feet and walked her along the cloth and around the lodge. She had been reborn and had entered the life of the Grand Medicine Society. The people sang: God talked to His son upon the cross, To give Him faith and courage, ‘My son, I am putting holiness into your body. You must not be afraid.’ God talked to His son upon the cross, To give Him faith and courage, ‘My Child, I am putting the Holy Spirit into your body. No harm can come to you. You must not be afraid.’ God talked to His son upon the cross, to give Him faith and courage, ‘My Son, I’m putting the spirit into your body. You will come back again to the people. You must not be afraid.’ God talked to His son upon the cross, To give Him faith and courage, ‘My Son, my Child, you will return again to the people. You will be their everlasting life. You must not be afraid.’ Rita heard all the songs, as the day wore on. Abraham Garfield encouraged her to sing her own song, which he had given her, so she would have faith and power: Rita 161 God sang to His son Of lessons He had taught Him, ‘My Child, I have given you the Holy Spirit. ‘My Child, you are crying and fasting. You are looking for power. I have given you My spirit, and My holiness.’ Again God sang to His son, Of lessons He had taught him, ‘I have put the Holy Spirit into your body. I have taught you My spirit and My holiness. Now it is up to you, My Child.’ Three times God sang to His son, Of lessons He had taught him. ‘I have taught you to pray. I have taught you to worship holiness. I have given you My spirit and My holiness.’ God sang to His son, Of lessons He had taught him, ‘I have talked to you four times, My Child. I have always talked to you four times. I have told you what is right and what is wrong. You should know. You were supposed to listen. Now it is up to you, My Child. I have given you My spirit. I have given you My holiness.’ The people danced around the lodge as Rita sang. Abraham Garfield motioned her to shoot her aunts and uncles. Rita shot Millie in the leg, for she knew Millie was not strong, even though she had been in the Society a few years. Rita was afraid she might kill Millie if she hit her anywhere else. The old 162 Carol Rita people believed that only those who had been in the Grand Medicine Society for many years could withstand a shot in the body. More feasts were eaten, and more songs were sung. The sun grew tired and went away to the West. The old men lighted the fire for the dead at the west end of the lodge, and the people remembered those who had left them. They burned holy food in the fire, so their loved ones, who had passed on, could share with them the blessings of God. The night passed, and the people danced and sang and fasted. The sun looked out from the East. When he saw the people, he blessed them all and rose high in the sky, so the people could end their ceremony, take their sweat baths and go to bed. They had honored God; now they might rest. Rita fell, exhausted, on her pallet. Her heart was happy. Now, she not only had Fredrick Edward who belonged to her; now she belonged to her people. The words of one of the ceremonial songs carried her off to sleep: God is talking. Look up, see the lightening. Hear the thunder. God is talking. God is talking. He is behind the storm. God is powerful. God is talking. God is talking. Listen to the storm. It is all God’s work. God is talking. God is talking. The lightening flashes. The thunder roars. God makes the storm. God is talking. Rita 163 Chapter 23 1923 Rita looked out of the front door of the house as the children scattered from the neighbors’ big farm wagon. Fredrick Edward made a mad sprint across the road, jumped over the clump of drying iris, dodged around the elm, vaulted up the four stairs to the porch, and burst through the door. “Hi, Mom,” he yelled as he threw his schoolbooks into a corner and flung his corduroy jacket on the couch. “Pick up them things and hang up your coat behind the kitchen door on that hook. Anybody’s think I didn’t teach you how to act.” “I’m hungry,” Fredrick Edward announced, as he laid his books on the big wooden table and pulled his coat from the couch. “I’ll get you some bread and jam, but first go wash your hands and face.” Rita put a few slices of bread and the jar of sand plum jam that Millie had made, on the table. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee from the big pot on the back of the stove. She sat down and waited for her son. Fredrick Edward slid into the chair, and reached for the bread and jam in one motion. He poured the jam on the bread and pushed it around a little with a knife. Rita watched the jam spread across his face as he took the first bite. “Where’s my father? How come he don’t come to see me?” Rita stared at her son with bewilderment. What had brought up this question? “Your father is a busy man with the Rock Island Railroad. He has to be in Chicago. Why do you ask?” “Well, all them kids in school says I don’t have no father. That ain’t so, everyone has to have a father. I figure it this way. I see little boy dogs make babies, and the lady dogs, they have the babies after a while. Well, ain’t I right, people are the same?” “Yes, you’re right. God made it so everything that lives has a mother and father. That way all living things have two folks who can look after them.” “Why do you think God done that? Do you think He thought fathers would hate their kids, like my father hates me?” 164 Carol Rita Rita looked startled. “Why do you say such a thing?” “If I got a father, like you say, I guess he just don’t want me or he’d come around and see what I was doin’.” Rita looked at her son. She had never thought he would be haunted by not knowing to whom he belonged. He belonged to her, wasn’t that enough? “That diploma you got hanging in the living room, who is that Elmer Hall?” “That’s no diploma. That’s my marriage license. Mr. Hall is your father. Now go out and play, and stop ask’n so many questions.” “Angus ain’t my father, then? I asked Aunt Millie who my father was and she said she didn’t know but that maybe it was Angus. She said somethin’ I don’t understand about you not knowing who my father was and that you couldn’t marry Angus ‘cause you and he were kin.” Rita grew tense with anger, “Your Aunt Millie better mind her own affairs. She’s got no business telling all them things. They ain’t true.” “She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t ask her, ‘cause I didn’t think it was right, the way Angus was staying down there all the time and making up to her. I knew you was busy up here and didn’t have time to take care of me and him. Other kids’ fathers don’t act like that.” Rita looked at the boy in astonishment. Rage began to creep into her body. “You do like I say. Go out there and play, and from now on stay away from your Aunt Millie. If I catch you down by her house again, I’ll give you a licking you won’t forget. Now get out of here!” Rita picked up her coffee cup and set it in the dishpan. Then she took a damp cloth and wiped up the crumbs and the smudges of sand plum jam from the oil-cloth table cover. At first she moved without thinking, but as she rubbed the sticky spots her thoughts fell back into place. What had Millie been up to? And what had Angus been doing down there with Millie? All this had been going on right here in front of Rita, and yet behind her back. Rita knew what must be done. She deliberately tied her black kerchief tight across the front of her forehead, and pulled her blue-striped Pendleton blanket tightly round her cotton dress to keep out the fall wind. She glanced at herself in the mirror hanging over the washbasin by the kitchen door as she went out, but she really didn’t see her reflection. Rita 165 Rita walked slowly down the main road towards Millie’s place. She tried again to assemble her thoughts. She had been working so hard trying to support herself and Fredrick Edward. That Angus, he wouldn’t get a job or anything. All he did was hang around all the time. Whenever he got his lease money from his grandmother’s allotment, he would go off somewhere until he had it all spent up. Then he would come back to her to rest and be looked after. If Mille was making up to him, she should support him! But Angus ought to be different than other men. She had trouble with him once before, the time when Millie said he was running around with Mother. This time she would get things straight with him and Millie once and for all. She wasn’t going to let her men get away with anything, ever again. Rita began to take short fast steps, now that she had made up her mind to have it out with Millie and then with Angus. The more she thought about them the madder she grew, and the more she pitied herself for all the sacrifices she had made to learn the Indian way and come back to it. The sorrier she felt for herself the more justified she became about leaving the white world. She had to know these Indian things if she was going to teach Fredrick Edward. He had to be a real Indian, not a white man. He had to have the character and principles of the old people, like Uncle Matthew. Rita marched up the path to Millie’s house and flung open the door. Millie stopped pedaling the Singer sewing machine, and looked up. “I’ve come to get things straight with you,” Rita stormed. She stood over Millie. “What right you got to be fooling around with my man and telling Fredrick Edward all them lies about me not knowing who his father is?” “What you accusin’ us of doing? I never told Fredrick Edward anything about you not knowing who his father is. I couldn’t tell him nothin’ ‘cause I don’t know for sure myself. You was away when all that happened.” “Shut your dirty mouth. You got dirty thoughts. Whatever you think, you got no right to say it to Fredrick Edward. It isn’t true, anyway.” “You shut your nasty mouth. If you’d really cared for your men folks, you would have taken care of them, instead of spending all your time with Abraham Garfield. I guess you did plenty of messing around with him while you were at it. Everyone knows he’s been with a lot of women. Why, he even got some of them in a family way. I sure hope you’re not like that.” Millie laughed. 166 Carol Rita “Never you mind about me. You better look after yourself. Angus is my man, and you stay away from him. Why, what you’re doing is a sin in the Indian way, ‘cause you’re my mother in Indian and you shouldn’t take my man.” “Maybe Angus likes mothers. He came around all the time to see Elsie. What do you think your mother and Angus were doin’ anyway?” “I hate you! You’re dirty!” Rita yelled in a rage. Deep silence crowded the room before Rita’s frustration pushed her into action. She reached for the little pink glass lamp on the table next to the sewing machine, and swung it over her head and down across the top of Millie’s skull. The glass shattered to the floor, mixed with coal-oil and Millie’s blood. Rita’s anger fell away at the sight of Millie’s slumped figure. She ran into the kitchen for a cloth. Two hours passed while Rita worked over Millie, trying to bring her back to consciousness. Fear climbed through Rita’s body. Millie refused to respond to the cold wet compress against her forehead. Blood still oozed form the great wound in her skull. Rita prayed to God for help. She vowed that if Millie was spared she would share everything she had with her aunt, even her man. Dusk crept through the house before Millie slowly opened her eyes, and the terror left Rita’s heart. Millie looked into Rita’s face, and tears came to her eyes. “I guess you really meant to get me. You’re the only one I got in the world. You wanted to kill me. Elsie’s gone. I don’t have anyone but you and Fredrick Edward. You don’t want me.” Rita let the incredibility of Millie’s statement seep into her mind. It was all true; Millie didn’t have anyone except Rita and Fredrick Edward. Millie didn’t even have that old white man from Stroud anymore. He just stayed home, nowadays, with his wife. “I guess I was a little hot-headed when I hit you. I’m sure sorry. I got awful scared when you just laid there like that and didn’t move. I thought you was dead. I was scared I would have you on my conscience forever. I asked God to help me and spare me that. I promised I would share everything I have with you, even my two men folks, if He would let you live.” “I sure hope you remember what you said to God, and don’t come over here and accuse me of taking your man again. You ask Angus, if you think we done something wrong. You got a nasty mind.” “You’re the one that’s got a nasty mind, telling Fredrick Edward I don’t know who his father is. You know right well that I do. Stay still, you’re getting Rita 167 blood all over everything again and I haven’t done noth’n all afternoon but clean up after you. You sure are a big bleeder. I never saw anything like it in my life. It was just pitiful, the way you bled.” “I guess I bled real good ‘cause I feel kinda weak now. Your mother used to say that bleeding was good for folks. I guess I’ll be healthy now.” “Them old folks used to give people hot broth after they bled. I’ll go out in the kitchen and fix us some supper. You just stay there and rest.” Rita went out on the back porch, and called across the countryside for Fredrick Edward to come to supper. She and Millie would always have to stay together, because that was the way Mother meant it to be when she raised them. Rita didn’t know why, but she knew neither she nor Millie could ever make it alone. They would have to share everything, even Fredrick Edward. There was just something about being a Sauk that made your family the only group that could really get along together for a long time. She guessed it was ‘cause they were so much alike. Millie even had Mother’s temper. 168 Carol Rita Chapter 24 Spring 1924 Spring came in February to the Sauk country. The days suddenly began to grow longer, and every now and then the warm southeast wind would bring a preview of the days to come. When the days grew still longer the wild iris and poppy mallow began to poke their heads above the ground. The red bud and blackjacks showed their little round buds to the world. The robins, blue jays and starlings returned from the south and commenced to rebuild their homes. The world was busy again. The winter had passed quickly for Rita. She had kept occupied with her sewing, and with looking after Fredrick Edward. His curiosity about his father made her decide to be at hand to answer the questions herself. Otherwise Millie might put more ideas into his head. After school and on weekends Rita and Fredrick Edward played together. Rita told her son about the old Sauk ways, about how she lived in Haskway Village with Uncle Matthew, about going on the winter hunt; about making gift-friends. She taught him to speak the Sauk language and to understand some of the old religious beliefs. Fredrick Edward listened to everything Rita told him with interest, but he saved his enthusiasm for the sports page of the paper. He and Angus read it together. Rita, as before, wasn’t sure about Angus. She had accused him of having an affair with Millie. He laughed at her and said, “Now honey, you don’t really believe anything because a little boy tells it to you. You know you’re the one I really love.” Rita dropped the subject. Otherwise she might loose more than she had gained. Angus stayed home with Rita and Fredrick Edward most of the winter, until the doctor sent for him to come to Chandler – Angus’ father was ill. The old man died in March and Angus returned to Rita in April. From that time on Rita and Angus drew closer. Their shared life became that of a settled couple. Angus inherited money from his father. He bought himself a new Model “T” Ford. He also bought Fredrick Edward new clothes and a bicycle. He gave Rita a blue enameled watch, with her initials in block letters on the back. The Rita 169 watch was on a bracelet, which could be removed, and then the watch could be attached to a pin or hung around her neck. It was the latest fashion from the east. Angus had ordered it from the newest Sears Roebuck catalogue. Rita was very proud of her watch. She thought it was even more beautiful than the gold watch Mrs. Whistler used to have many years ago, when Rita was a young girl. Rita took out the silver belt buckle that Angus had bought her the time they went to Guthrie. She made herself a new dress of yellow cotton satin, to contrast with the blue watch, and wore the silver buckle to give her dress real elegance. Life was happy to Rita, until the spirit came to haunt them. Rita rolled over to the other side of the bed and stretched her body as hard as she could to force herself awake. She knew Angus had been up for hours. She wondered what he was doing. She swung her feet to the floor and into her everyday moccasins. She pulled her old dress on over the slip she slept in, combed her hair, and followed the coffee smell out to the kitchen. She found Angus sitting alone at the table. “You got up awful early this mornin’, and you look kinda white. You sick or somethin’?” She questioned. “I don’t know. I don’t feel sick in my body, but somethin’s wrong. I’m scared,” Angus replied slowly. Rita poured herself some coffee from the pot on the back of the stove, and sat down to the table opposite Angus. “What made you scared? What’s wrong?” “I heard his voice. All night I heard his voice.” “What you talkin’ about?” Rita interrupted. “Whose voice did you hear?” “I went to sleep a little while after you. I slept about an hour before I heard it the first time. I heard my father callin’ me. I heard it real plain, just as if he was standing outside the window callin’. I got up and looked around. The moon was real bright, and I could see all over. I looked everywhere in the house; then I went outdoors and walked around. I didn’t see nobody, so I went back to bed.” “Where’s Fredrick Edward?” Rita interrupted. “He got up about an hour ago and I gave him some breakfast. He wanted to go to town with them white kids. I didn’t think you wanted him around here for anything.” 170 Carol Rita “No, that’s all right he went. I just didn’t want him listening. He gets funny ideas about some things. I guess all kids let their imaginations run away with them. What happened when you went back to bed?” “It was like this. I went back to bed and you were still sleeping, so I laid down, and I guess I went back to sleep. The next thing I knew I woke up with a jump. It was his voice again. He was callin’ to me real loud. He kept sayin’ ‘Angus, Angus, water, water, I want that cup of water.’ I looked around again and I didn’t see no one. I went back to bed and the same thing happened two more times. After the fourth time I didn’t go back to bed no more, so I didn’t hear him again. I guess I must of eaten too many pork chops for supper last night, and I got indigestion, or somethin’.” Rita sat staring out of the little kitchen window at the rolling plain, the way Uncle Matthew used to do when he was thinking something real deep. “You ain’t got no indigestion. That spirit was here. That’s what spirits do when they want something. They’ll keep coming back until they get what they want. If you don’t put a cup of water out there on the porch for him, tonight, somethin’ bad will happen to you.” Angus laughed. “You believe in them old Indian ideas. I don’t believe like that. I ate three of them chips and two big pieces of that apple pie you baked. If you didn’t cook such a good supper I’d be all right.” “You can laugh if you want to,” Rita said indignantly. “I know the Indian ways are right. You better put that water out tonight, or that spirit will be back. Tell me, before your Pa died, did he want a cup of water?” Angus thought for a moment; then he grew pale again. “Well, answer me! Did he want water before he left you?” “Yah, he wanted water, but he was too sick to drink it. His lips got all dry, and right at the last there his tongue and the inside of his mouth were all kinda puckered up, ‘cause they were so dry. I tried to give him some water, but he couldn’t keep it in his mouth. The field matron, she come around once in a while and saw him. She would drop water, a little bit at a time, into his mouth and he would look so happy. I didn’t know how to do that. I tried, really I tried, but I couldn’t. He would choke, and I was scared he’d die. I looked around for a woman to take care of him, but I couldn’t find anyone. They were all busy helping their menfolks with the spring planting. I done the best I could, taking care of him, honest.” Rita 171 Rita saw the tears creep into Angus’ eyes. He bent his head and turned away from her to blow his nose in the red calico handkerchief. Rita put out her hand and patted his arm. “I know you done the best you could. It is hard for a person to die, and it’s harder still for another person to watch them. I know how hard it was for me to watch Mother pass away. I knew God was doin’ what was right, but it was just terrible.” Angus took a deep breath and pulled himself up straight. “I got to stop all this talkin’ and get busy. Go cut some poles for them bean plants we’re gonna put in.” “Please, Angus, put a cup of water outside tonight. I’m afraid somethin’ bad will happen if you don’t.” “Don’t be silly. You sound like one of them old Indian women. You remind me of your Mother, the way you’re always fretting and ordering me around.” Angus smiled at her and went out the door whistling “In the Good Old Summer Time”. The tune sent new shivers through Rita. It brought back memories of Mr. Hall and other unhappy times. Four nights running Angus was awakened by his father’s voice demanding a cup of water. Rita grew more and more afraid with each day. She coaxed and pleaded with Angus to put a cup of water outside for the spirit. She explained and explained that it would get mad if it didn’t get what it wanted. The spirit would get Angus, or someone he loved, if he didn’t obey. Angus laughed at her and teased her about being an old Indian woman. At last he took refuge in repeating the Christian teaching he had learned at Carlisle Indian School. He told Rita that good Christians don’t believe in ghosts. Rita argued back that they did, and cited as an example the white neighbor lady from Aransas who said she talked to spirits all the time. Angus said that woman wasn’t superstitious; she was just not right in the head. On and on they bickered. Nothing would make Angus put out that cup of water. The fifth morning after the spirit had first come, Angus seemed more nervous than ever before. He hardly ate his breakfast, and he snapped at Fredrick Edward for wiping up the yellow fried egg juice with his bread. “White folks in the east didn’t do things like that,” he said. Rita shoved Fredrick Edward out of the house before they really had a fight. Fredrick Edward was getting big enough to stand up to Angus now. 172 Carol Rita “You better stay home today,” Rita told him. “You’re kinda upset by that spirit. I sure wish you’d done like I said and put out a cup of water.” “I’ve been telling you I won’t do nothin’ like that. I’m just sick, I guess. I must be runnin’ a fever. That’s why I hear that voice. I’m gonna go into Stroud and see a white man’s doctor.” “Please don’t go. Somethin’ bad will happen to you. No kinda doctor can help you. You gotta put out that water.” Angus didn’t answer. He went out in the yard and started to crank the Model “T”. Rita picked up the dirty dishes and slid them into the dish pan. The whine of the motor, with each turn of the crank, came to her ears. Four times she heard Angus try to start the Lizzy and four times he failed. The fifth time made a terrible noise, as if the motor was screaming at Angus to stop. She rushed to the window. Angus was lying on the ground with blood rushing from his arms and face. Rita picked up a damp towel, and went out to help him. The spirit had punished Angus through the car he had bought with his father’s money. Now the spirit was satisfied, it would go away. Rita 173 Part Eight Chapter 25 1941 •The Sauk lived on the eastern rim of the great dust bowl of 1935-36. The heat burned up the land and the people. The leaves of the blackjack trees crumbled and died on the knotty branches. The cotton burned in the fields, and the people looked to the “Great White Father”, Franklin D. Roosevelt, to lead them from the desert of despair. The nation’s agony came home to Rita when Fredrick Edward joined the C.C.C. , and was sent to Wyoming. She wiped away her grief thinking of the glamour of his new job. Fredrick Edward was serving the nation, protecting the forests, preserving the beauty and resources of the land. The W.P.A. brought many changes to the Sauk country. No one could escape from change. Paved highways replaced the red dirt roads; school buses transported the children; clean yellow privies dotted the countryside; employment in W.P.A. projects of all kinds were found for both men and women. The cotton crop vanished. The Government stopped urging the Indians to raise cattle for a living. Neither cotton nor feed crops could survive the drought. The Sauk left the land, never to return. Rita joined in the exodus. She worked for the W.P.A. Indian Arts and Crafts project, reviving the old Indian skills of weaving, beadwork, and ribbon appliqué that she had learned many years ago, from Aunt Tabitha and Mother. She taught the younger women her crafts, and joined in helping preserve the culture of her country as her son preserved its forests. 174 Carol Rita Winter light flowed through the window into the living room, making the heat from the coal-oil stove seem even hotter. Rita and Angus had the radio on all Sunday afternoon, while they chatted and dozed in the quiet of their own world. The news bulletins from abroad made Rita sad and afraid. She thought of Fredrick Edward at once. She went into the bedroom, to find her writing tablet and pencil. “Dear Son: I just now heard the news on the radio. I don’t know if we will go to war. Things sure look bad. I know you are a good Indian and will want to protect your people, if we do go to war, just the way Uncle Matthew and his father did when the Sauk were chased out of their homes back in Iowa a long time ago. “Son, I want you to know this. I love you. I want you to be a great hero. Please be careful, Son. Don’t let them kill you. I know you will decide what is right to do. Let me know what it is. “Angus and I will stay here. We are too old to go help. We will try to take care of everything here at home. I will pray to God and look after you always. “Remember, Son, I will always think about you. You can come home whenever you get permission. Keep that Indian tobacco I gave you when you went to Wyoming. Always keep it safe. It is sacred. It will bring you back. “Your loving Mother.” Several weeks went by before she received an answer. The pain dime store envelope bore the postmark of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Rita hastily tore her way into the letter. “Dear Ma: “I arrived here yesterday from Wyoming. Some of the fellows out there and I volunteered for the Air Corps. I just had to Ma. I want things to be safe at home for you and Aunt Millie. I hope you understand. I got your letter. From the way you write you do understand. Thanks Ma. “They treat us good here. I met a lot of Indian fellows from Oklahoma. There are some Kiowas and Comanches, a Pawnee, and one Shawnee. The Shawnee and I are sort buddies. I guess it’s ‘cause we come from almost the same place. He lived in Tecumseh and he came up to a lot of our doings. Rita 175 “I made friends with some of these Pueblo Indians. They are going to take us around and show us how their folks live. “I’ve written enough for now. I got to go. I will see you at Christmas, I hope. “Your son, Fredrick Edward.” Rita folded the letter and slid it back into the torn envelope; carefully she fitted the ripped pieces around the letter and tucked it into her bosom. She wanted to cry when she thought of her son, but she held the tears back. You didn’t cry when you made him, she told herself. You didn’t cry when he was born. It would be wrong to cry now. In the evening, when Angus returned from his new job at the Douglas Aircraft plant in Oklahoma City, they cooked a little pot of corn and boiled beef over a sacred flint fire out in the yard. Rita said a prayer for Fredrick Edward, and burnt some of the food in the fire so their relatives in the Land of the Dead would share with her this time of anxiety and would give Fredrick Edward their blessings. The weeks went by, and Rita heard nothing more from Fredrick Edward. She joined Millie and the other Sauk women, at the little country Baptist Church, to fold dressings for the Red Cross. Each evening, when Angus returned they sat together and listened to the radio, waiting for news. No matter how hard they tried they could not figure out what had happened to Fredrick Edward. A letter came, at last. “Dear Ma: “I was hoping to come home for Christmas but they say I can’t. You and Aunt Millie better come out here and see me right away. If you don’t come, I may not get to see you again for a long while. “ Your son, Fredrick Edward.” Rita glanced at the clock over the kitchen sink. It was just 11:30 in the morning. They could be off right after dinner if they hurried. She grabbed her black winter coat from behind the kitchen door and hustled down the road to Millie’s. The sun crept behind the western sky as Millie steered her 1936 Pontiac down the main street of Elk City, Oklahoma, towards the cabin court where they spent the night. 176 Carol Rita The sun slipped up over the eastern horizon long after the two women drove out of town. Millie kept the car at the legal reasonable and proper speed, except for moments of boredom when the speedometer crept unreasonably high. The car moved steadily form billboard to billboard towards Albuquerque. Rita’s mind filled more and more with anxiety, as they drew nearer their destination. The sun had dropped behind snow-covered Mt. Taylor away off to the west, when Millie stopped the car in front of the sentry standing at the gate in the fence around Air Corp Facility Headquarters. Rita leaned over Millie and across the steering wheel. She answered the sergeant’s questions before he could ask them: “We’ve come from Oklahoma to see my son, Pvt. Frederick Edward Hall. Can we go in?” “No, ma’am, you can’t go in, but if you put your car over there in that parking space I will call and see if I can find him.” “You’ll find him all right, that is, if you try,” Millie assured him. “I guess he’s sitting in there waiting for us now.” The sergeant saluted Millie, but never answered. “Just do like he says, and pull over there. We don’t want to make him angry. Don’t talk too much.” “I don’t see why we can’t drive in there. We’re Indians, not Germans. I ain’t making him angry. He’s gotta get Fredrick Edward ‘cause we come a long way to see him. I don’t think you ever learned nothin’.” “By the way you sound, I think you learned much in Kansas City. Be careful of that car – look where you’re backin’.” “You’ve been criticizing the way I’ve been drivin’ ever since we left home. If it weren’t for me you’d never have got here. Angus wouldn’t have brought you.” “He sure would’ve brought me, only he has an important job with the Government. I left him a note saying where we’ve gone. You’re just nasty.” “Look over there! Ain’t that Fredrick Edward? I hardly know him in that uniform.” Millie motioned with her head towards the sentry booth. Rita followed her glance and saw a young man standing in the light falling through the door of the booth. He looked so much like Mr. Hall that she felt a shiver go down her spine. This was Fredrick Edward! He had grown slimmer and more darkly tanned in the years since she had seen him. And how much he looked like his father! Rita 177 Rita watched her son turn from the sentry, and look around for their car. A lump came into her mouth. She couldn’t speak. Millie jumped from the car and called, “Fredrick Edward, here we are, over here!” Rita looked on as her son threw his arms around his Aunt Millie. She wished Millie had stayed home, so she could have Fredrick Edward all to herself. “Here, son, here I am,” Rita said. She got out of the car. The young man came towards her and placed his arms around her. He held her tight and buried his face in her shoulder. Rita tried to hold back the tears from her eyes, but in spite of her efforts they ran down her face. “Gee, Ma. I’m sure glad you and Aunt Millie got to come. I was scared there for a while maybe you wouldn’t. I got three days off, then I have to be back. I don’t know what will happen. Say, Ma, you’re crying. Is that ‘cause you’re glad to see me?” Rita couldn’t answer. She fumbled in her purse for her handkerchief. She felt embarrassed to be crying in front of Fredrick Edward and Millie. “Can you leave now?” Millie asked. “Where are your things?” “I can leave. I got all I need in this here little bag. Let me drive.” Fredrick Edward guided the car away from the Air Force Base, and out towards the country. “This here town is full of people, with the Air Base and everything. I got some New Mexico Indian friends, and they told me where I could take you to stay. I got us a place with some folks south of here. I want to take you around and show you the country anyway. I got some gas tickets so we can go drive a little if we want to.” “We don’t have to go far, son. We come out here to be with you.” “I want to spend all my time with you and Aunt Millie, too. I might not get to see you again for a long long time. “I come out here a couple of weeks ago with some Indian fellows from Isleta Pueblo. They took me home with them for a visit.” “That was sure nice of them,” Millie remarked. “Be still, Millie, and let Fredrick Edward do the talkin’.” “Ah, Ma, lay off Aunt Millie. I want to talk to both of you. I want to take you to that Pueblo. They have a church there. It’s a Catholic Church. They built it out of mud and straw, adobe, they call it here. It’s real pretty inside, except for 178 Carol Rita that body. They got an old priest buried in there. He died a long time ago. I don’t know when, but it was some time when the white men first came here. They put this priest in a coffin and buried him in front of the altar. Whenever the Indians at Isleta have sickness or other troubles, this here priest comes up through the floor, coffin and all. They say people come to that church when they’re sick. They pray for help, and go away well. It’s a real sacred place. I want to take you there.” “If you want us to go, we’ll go, son,” Rita assured him. “Yah, we’ll go,” Millie echoed. Into the night they drove. Rita grew sleepy and the minutes seemed like hours, but the comfort of being with her boy made her weariness of no account. Fredrick Edward finally stopped at the house of a Spanish-American family. He had arranged for a little room for them here. The star-studded sky of New Mexico covered the world when Rita and Millie fell off to sleep. The clear cold New Mexico morning made the earth dance with happiness. The sky was high above them, making a big world for the people to wander about in. Fredrick Edward’s Spanish-American friends invited Rita and Millie to eat breakfast with the family. The Spanish rice, boiled beef with red chile, the homemade bread, and the bread pudding for dessert was strange food to them. Rita ate everything with much enjoyment, but Millie tasted each dish and pushed it aside, concentrating her appetite on the homemade bread and the hot black coffee. Fredrick Edward wiped up all the chile and beef juice with his bread, like he used to do with corn soup when he was a little boy at home. The day was theirs. Fredrick Edward hurried the two women off in the car so they would not miss a minute of the precious time. He drove northward for a few miles and then turned eastward to Isleta Pueblo. The sun bounced off the Manzano Mountains, shifting the rays of color in the air. Rita sat spellbound, taking in the dancing lights and colors which continually changed the feeling of the world. “This here country is sure pretty. How do you like it Ma?” Fredrick Edward inquired. “It’s real pretty, but it sort scares me, the way the light and everything changes so quickly.” “These mountains are nice to look at,” Millie added, “but I wouldn’t want to live here. I like a place with more big trees, where the country kinda rolls, instead of shooting straight up like it does here.” Rita 179 “You mean, you just like the part of Oklahoma right around Stroud,” Fredrick Edward laughed. “What’s that big building sticking up there in that cleared place?” Rita asked. “That’s it. That’s the church where the body is that I was telling you about yesterday. The cleared place is the plaza, and all them little buildings around it are houses. They’re sorta like apartment houses.” “I sure wouldn’t like living on top of someone that way,” Millie confided, “and I wouldn’t want anybody living on top of me.” “I guess these folks are used to it so they don’t mind. I’d think living like this everyone would know everything you did. I’d like knowing what they did all right, but I don’t think I’d like to have them knowing what I did,” Rita observed. Fredrick Edward stopped the car in front of the church and bounced out. “Come on, I want to show you the inside. They got designs painted on the walls like them designs they have on pottery. It’s real pretty.” Rita and Millie got out of the car and stood looking at the baroque front of the church. It was so different form anything they had ever seen that the strangeness of the buildings and the country drove away the seriousness of the visit, until Fredrick Edward spoke. “I guess you folks think I’m a little funny. When a fellow is away a long time, he does a lot of thinking. Well, I done a lot of thinking in the CCC camp, and I done more thinking here at the Air Force Base. I did a lot of listening to them chaplains. They talk to us and hold services for the men. I don’t know if I will ever come back. This is a real bad war. I’m scared for you and Aunt Millie. I figure there’s nothing we can do about it, ‘cept trust in God, like you taught me when I was a boy, Ma. I kinda wanted you and Aunt Millie to come in this here church with me, and talk to God, and maybe that Padre who keeps comin’ back and helping these Indians, he might help you, too.” Rita looked at her son. She knew she had taught him the real Indian way. She knew he believed in the Great Spirit. It was not important if he was called The Great Manatow or Jesus Christ or just God; it really was all the same. Rita knew Fredrick Edward was scared, and she was scared, too. She would not show it. She took comfort in knowing that she had something to give her son which would protect him and bring him home safely. Now was the time. 180 Carol Rita The two women and the young man walked silently into the old Spanish Catholic Church. The gold earth washed onto the lower part of the walls contrasted with the white of the upper walls. Rita looked at the beautiful polychrome Indian designs which were painted on the white surfaces. The white strips of light that floated in through little windows around the top of the church sent a gentle light into the building, and made the carved and painted Santos along the walls look kind and friendly, although some of them also looked stern. Rita moved slowly towards the carved wooden altar, covered with linen and crocheted cloths. These Pueblo Indian women sure must love their God, to do all that work, she thought. She shot her eyes over their laces and embroideries with the expertness of a seamstress. The votive lights shone in the dimness of the church as Rita, Fredrick Edward, and Millie, knelt on the earth floor, in touch with Grandmother Earth, as they would have been at home. Rita silently prayed in the Indian way, as she had done in the Protestant Church at Agency, when she was a child. “Great Spirit, take care of my boy. He is all I have. I love him. I tried to teach him the right way so he would follow Your road and live a good life. I don’t want nothing to happen to him. I don’t know where he is going, or how long he will be away from me. I will mourn for him while he is gone. I am so pitiful, Great Spirit, sitting here in this church. Look after my boy ‘cause he is pitiful, too. I always tried to be good to everyone and I never hurt no one. I love my boy. Take care of him, Great Spirit.” “How you like it here Mom?” Fredrick Edward whispered. “It’s real spiritual. I got somethin’ to tell you, Son. I never told this to anyone besides my own uncle. I want you to listen real hard.” Fredrick Edward nodded in agreement. Millie squatted back on her heels and blended with their surroundings. “A long long time ago, when I was little, I fasted with Uncle Matthew. After four days I had a vision. I was on a log in a big river. There were three men on that log with me. A big storm came and the Thunders stood the log on end. These three men slid off, and went down under the water. I went under, but I kept comin’ up. I went down four times, and the last time I come up I heard a voice from up in the sky. The voice told the Thunders to leave me alone. I was supposed to live and go back to my people. Rita 181 “That vision meant I was going to have a long life. It gave me power I could give to someone I loved very much. This power I got would protect the person I loved when he took a long trip over water. My power would bring him back safely, to me. “I want to give this power to you, so you will come home safely. I love you very much. You are part of me. You are my son. I can only give this power away once. I give it to you.” Rita patted Fredrick Edward on the head to transmit the power. She noticed the tears gathering in his eyes. “I want to give you some of this Indian tobacco. It will take care of you and bring you safely home. When you go over an ocean or a big river, you drop some of this in the water for an offering. Tobacco will take care of you. You will have a safe trip. You will come back home.” Rita put a few pieces of the Indian tobacco in a little piece of buckskin she took from her purse. She looked towards Millie, who fished around in her pocketbook and took out a Band-Aid can. From it she took a pinch of Indian tobacco, and added it to Rita’s. They were sharing Fredrick Edward, the way Rita had vowed to do, that day after their fight. “I want to light one of them candles,” Fredrick Edward said. “I’ve gotten so I kinda like this white man’s way. I believe like the Indians, but without you being here it’s hard to have a ceremony. The white man’s prayers make me feel good all over even when I’m alone. They make me feel strong in my heart.” Fredrick Edward led the way to the votive lights. He dropped a dollar bill into the little wooden box, on the front of the stand, for an offering. He lighted the first light. What he prayed for, Rita never knew. Millie lighted her candle, while her lips moved in silent prayer. Rita lighted her candle, while she quietly said the words of the Psalm she had learned at Agency School. They were even more beautiful to her now that she had grown up. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in Green pastures; He leadeth me beside the Still waters. 182 Carol Rita He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the Paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, For Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they Comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen. Rita turned and walked up the aisle towards the future that she and Fredrick Edward had to face. Rita felt safe. She had prayed to God in the Indian way and in the white man’s way. She believed that if one religion was good, two were better. God would bring her boy safely home. Rita 183 Chapter 26 1941-42 Rita and Millie returned home from New Mexico. They went back to folding bandages in the little Baptist Church on the country road. The threat of war crept over the nation. Everyone’s heart held sadness and fear. Sunday afternoon, December 7th. Rita stood in front of the wood stove and watched the discs of dough expand into pieces of fried-bread as they hit the hot grease in the iron skillet. Her fascinated stare was broken when Angus yelled. “Come here, come here, quick. They bombed Pearl Harbor. Them Japs, they sunk some of our ships.” “What you yelling about like that?” Rita asked as she dashed into the living room. “Hear what they say? Them Japs bombed Pearl Harbor.” Together Rita and Angus listened to the radio tell the world the United States had been attacked by Japan. “Where do you think he is?” Rita hesitantly whispered. “I sure don’t know. He could be out there, the way they moved him quick like that.” “I want to write him but I can’t. I don’t know where.” “Now, don’t you worry. He’s all right. You will be hearing from him in a day or so. I guess that they’ve kept him kinda busy, movin’ and all that.” “You can talk like that. He ain’t your boy. You don’t feel like I do.” Angus looked hurt. “He might as well be my boy. I done raised him since he was less than a year. I tried to teach him to be a man. It sure was a big job, with you and Millie spoiling him all the time, the way you treated him. “Yah, he’s a man in a way. I guess that CCC camp done a lot for him. At least it got him away from you and Millie, and that’s more than I could do.” Rita looked at Angus. He sure was pitiful the way he talked about Fredrick Edward. He was the only father the boy had ever known, and he done the best he could for Fredrick Edward. “Don’t go talk’n like that. That CCC camp, it did him no good. He had to go there ‘cause he couldn’t get any work around here. You made him a gentlemen.” 184 Carol Rita “I tried. I guess all his trouble started when he was born and your mother gave him that name. My Grandma always said that nobody was ever supposed to use the name Great Spirit, or something bad would happen to him.” “Don’t speak like that. You don’t believe in them old Indian sayings. You wouldn’t even put out a glass of water for your father, or nothin’. He’s my boy and we’ve kept him a good boy. He might be dead in Pearl Harbor or something this minute.” “I don’t believe in them sayings. I was only trying to figure out why a strong fellow like Fredrick Edward couldn’t get a job. Why he had to go away from his people to find work. It’s one thing for a man to go fight, but it’s wrong when he has to go away to work.” “They sent you away to Carlisle in Pennsylvania to school, and you come back. Was it right of them to do that?” “I don’t know if it was or not. I know I’ve suffered a lot, ‘cause they done that to me. I just can’t find out how I believe, like a white man or like an Indian. I don’t always know what is right for a man to do. I know it’s better now that the little kids go to school in the neighborhood, and stay home with their folks.” “I guess you’re kinda upset with this war. It must bring a lot of thoughts to you about the other big war. You’re talkin’ awful deep.” “You got something cookin’ on the stove?” Rita smelled deeply. The fat in the skillet was burned through and through. She pulled herself up from the overstuffed chair and went to fix them some dinner. They really were not hungry for boiled beef and fry bread; cold canned baked beans and lunch meat would do. The next morning the card came. All that was written on it was the address. Pvt. Fredrick Edward Hall, 38021730. Headquarters 19th Bombardment G.P. Clark Field, Pampanga, Philippino Islands, APO 107, San Fransisco. Rita read and re-read the address, trying to find a little message from her son, but there was none. She took a piece of her tablet paper, and a pencil, and wrote: Monday “Dear Son: “Your card saying where you are came this morning. I heard the news about Pearl Harbor on the radio yesterday afternoon. I pray to God you are safe. Take Rita 185 care of yourself, my boy. I miss you. I know you are a hero protecting your country. Don’t get killed. I am fine and so is Aunt Millie. Angus is working hard at the aeroplane plant. We all miss you. I will pray to God to take care of you. Devotedly, Your Mother.” Rita carefully addressed the envelope, read her letter, folded it and slit it inside the envelope. She wrapped her shawl about her shoulders and went down the path to her mailbox on the highway. The postman would soon be there and he could take her letter to Fredrick Edward. The months dragged on. Winter passed into spring, and there was still no word from Fredrick Edward. Rita listened to the radio and searched the Stroud newspaper, hoping they would have some word about the division. Nothing appeared. The war went from bad to worse for the United States and her allies. Guam fell on December 13th, Wake Island on December 20th and Hong Kong on Christmas Day. Rita believed her son to be with General MacArthur on Corregidor. Word came in May, to the people at home, that Corregidor had fallen to the Japanese. General MacArthur escaped to Australia, to take command from there. The nation was in darkness. Rita was in despair. She had not heard from her son. Again days passed unbroken, before the telegram came. Rita read the official message: “Your son, Pvt. Fredrick Edward Hall, has been taken prisoner by the Japanese in the Battle of Corregidor, May 6th, 1942.” The meaning of the message slowly seeped through Rita’s mind. She was too sad and worried to cry. She sat down in the big chair and quietly sang an old prayer song that Uncle Matthew had taught her. God loves His people. God created the world. God created Medicine for His people. God wants His people to be well, To be bright like the sun.
186 Rita
God loves His people. God gives Medicine to His young people. He gave them Medicine bundles for life. God told the people to use the Medicine, to keep well. God gave everyone Medicine for his life alone. God loves His people. God listened to His people’s prayer songs. The people love their God. They sang, ‘This is the way I look now, when I am young. I want to look young all my life. I will do the right thing in my life. When I am sick I will take Powerful Medicine, To receive God’s blessing. Then I will get well.’ God loves His people. God wants His people to be well and bright. The people thanked God for their blessings. God listened to His people. God helps His people.” Rita 187 Chapter 27 August 15, 1945 Rita sat on the ground beneath the big pecan tree at the back of the house. Tear-smeared blotches of red earth covered her face and arms. Her now-gray hair, stuck together with dirt, hung loose over her shoulders. Her old cotton squaw dress was stiff with red soil. She sobbed bitterly as she sang: God sang to His son Of lessons He had taught him, ‘My child, I have given you the Holy Spirit. My child, you are crying and fasting. You are looking for power. I have given you My spirit, and My holiness.’ Again God sang to His son Of lessons He had taught him, ‘I have put the Holy Spirit into your body. I have taught you My spirit and My holiness. Now it is up to you, My child.’ Three times God sang to His son Of lessons He had taught him, ‘I have taught you to worship holiness. I have given you My spirit and My holiness.’ God sang to His son Of lessons He had taught him, ‘I have talked to you four times, My child. I have always talked to you four times. I have told you what is right and what is wrong. You should know. You were supposed to listen. Now it is up to you, My child. I have given you My spirit. I have given you My holiness.’ 188 Carol Rita “What you doin’ sitting there on the ground like that?” Rita looked up and saw Abraham Garfield standing over her. “I’m desperate, Uncle. I’ve waited four years for my boy to come home. I have not even heard from him in all that time. I fasted four days. I came out here and lay on the ground and prayed, so Grandmother Earth would take pity on me and bring my boy back. I had a vision. I don’t know what it means. I want to tell you. I want to release that dream to you. I want to know what you think.” “Before you tell me this dream, go east by that cedar tree, and put your Indian tobacco down to the east of the tree, and ask God to bring your boy back safely. Then you can tell me about it.” Rita struggled to her feet. She felt very weak as she walked deliberately to the cedar tree. She took a few shreds of Indian tobacco from her little buckskin bag and held them tightly in her hand while she prayed. “Take pity on me, God. I am so pitiful. My boy, my own flesh and blood, has been gone from me for over four years. I know he is a great hero. I know he has been very brave. I know his country is proud of him. He is a good boy, God. I have done everything I know to keep him good. He is the only one I have in the whole world. He is the only one I have who loves me. Bring him back safe to me. I give you this holy Indian tobacco. Please bring my boy home to me.” Rita buried the tobacco in the earth and went back to Abraham Garfield. “I done like you said. I talked to God.” “That’s good. Now you may tell me your dream.” Abraham Garfield and Rita sat together on a little wooden bench in the cool of the pecan tree. Rita assembled her thoughts carefully, before she began to speak. She pushed her dirtied hair back from her face. “It was like I told you. I fasted four days, no water or nothin’. I lay out here day and night. I asked god to bring my boy back to me. I grew weaker and weaker until I got like you see me now. This morning, when the darkness was deepest, just before the sun come up, I had my dream. First, I saw a great big pasture and it was real pretty. It was all green. The sky was real far up, like now. There was lots of room for folks to move. Somehow this pasture moved. I don’t know how, but it did. I saw a big ocean. There were big waves in this ocean. There was a big boat. This boat had smoke comin’ from it and it was Rita 189 headed straight for me. I woke up then.” Abraham Garfield sat and looked at her. Rita watched the little starlings play in the branches of the big tree, while she waited for Abraham Garfield to speak. “That’s a good dream,” he said at last. “Your son is coming back. That dream is God answering your prayers. “Don’t grieve anymore. You must have faith in God. He has already talked to you through your dream. “When you follow this Indian belief you make a fire and light it with flint and give the fire some tobacco for God. Cook a pot of Indian corn over the fire and give some of the boiled corn to the fire to thank God. Now, after you have done this you can eat your food. The strength that you receive from that food God is going to give your son, because you remembered God and shared what you have with Him. “Now don’t grieve anymore, if you can help it. You have asked Him to help you, so have faith in God. Fredrick Edward is still a young man and a strong man. He had a lot of experiences, and is hard from the kind of life he has lived. He can stand whatever they do to him, because he is strong and has determination. I have all the faith in the world in your son.” Rita gave Abraham Garfield some dry corn. She knew she had to give him something, for understanding her dream. The corn was all she had around the house that she could part with. Rita went to the back of the house, after Abraham Garfield had left, and draped her Indian tent around the old white ash frame of the cook shed. She fixed herself a sweat bath. The clean hot steam felt good, drawing the dirt from her skin and hair. She would follow the directions Abraham Garfield had given her, and light a holy fire to cook a pot of corn for her offering to God. Rita knew her son would come back to her. Abraham promised that Fredrick Edward would return. Rita went into the house to get her flints to start the holy fire. As she walked across the yard, for no reason that she could understand, a hymn she had learned at Agency School kept going through her mind. 190 Carol Rita The King of Love my shepherd is, His goodness faileth never. I nothing lack if I am His And he is mine forever. Where streams of living waters flow, My ransomed soul He leadeth And where the verdant pastures grow, With food celestial feedeth. Rita 191 Chapter 28 1945 August had just turned into September when Rita saw the postman drive up the highway to her mailbox. She had watched him do this every morning for the past four years. Each day he waved his hand over his head to let her know there was no letter from Fredrick Edward. This morning he motioned her to come to the road. She dashed out of the house and down the path. Her letter had come at last! “Here it is, Mrs. Hall. You’ve been a long time waiting for it,” the postman greeted her. He handed over the envelope. Rita didn’t wait to answer him. She ripped away the outer paper, and yanked the letter loose. “Dearest Mom: “I don’t know what to say to you because I am so happy to be free, here goes. Mom, I will be back as soon as I can so go tell Aunt Millie. I am writing this letter on a troop ship now. Just came back from a picture show and picked up a pencil and started writing this letter. I don’t know when it will be but hope it will be soon. I am sure one happy boy I don’t know what to say. Mom, I haven’t written a letter for so long I’ve just about forgotten how. Oh, yes I received that personal package you sent me. I sure was glad to get it too. Tell the rest hello. Have to close in a hurry. Goodbye and good luck, “ Your son, “F rederick Edward.” “That’s sure a nice letter for a son to write his mother,” the postman commented. “My boy! He’s coming home! I knew he would come back. He’s a hero. What you doin’, reading over my shoulder like that?” “I ain’t got no boy to come back. He got killed in Germany.” 192 Carol Rita Rita looked at the man. She remembered when word came about his son. She had been so concerned about Fredrick Edward that she had not thought about other folks. Some were not so lucky. “I’m sorry. We’re gonna give Fredrick Edward a hero’s welcome in the old Sauk way. I’ll let you know. You come eat with us.” “Thanks, Mrs. Hall. I sure will. I gotta go now. I got some more letters for folks who are waiting to hear from boys.” Rita watched the postman drive down the road. As he moved southward she went back into her own life. She rushed up the highway to Millie’s house to tell her the news. The two women sat together all day, planning the welcome for Fredrick Edward. They discussed and re-discussed each item, from food to a tribal parade. They thought and thought, trying to remember too how the old people had said a hero was welcomed. Angus came in looking for Rita, in the evening, and joined the women. Each one recalled the ceremonies they had seen and the parts they liked the best. No one thought or cared if it happened to belong to the old belief, the Grand Medicine Society, or the Christian religion. What counted was if it was pretty and if it would fit. The ceremony for gift-friends was the most impressive to Rita; she liked the parade around the campus, with all its color. Millie felt they should make the dog sacrifice and they did in many Sauk religious ceremonies. Angus just didn’t know what he liked best – it all puzzled him. They all agreed that a parade was necessary, and that a great big feast must be held. Two months slipped by and Fredrick Edward had not written or phoned. All was ready for the hero’s welcome Rita and Millie had planned for their boy. Rita grew more and more anxious as the days went by. She wrote her Congressman to see if he knew when her son would come home. The short reply from Washington assured her it would not be long. Lowell Thomas’ voice filled the kitchen with the news of the day as Rita and Angus sat eating their supper and listening to the radio. A knock on the front door interrupted their routine. “Who do you think that is?” Angus questioned. Rita 193 “I don’t know. I’ll go see,” Rita replied. She went through the living room to the window and looked out. She saw no car in the drive. The knock came again. She went to the front door and opened to see a thin man in a uniform. She looked real hard at the soldier. “Mom, it’s me, it’s your boy,” Fredrick Edward exclaimed, as he burst through the door and gathered his mother in his arms. “You’ve come back! You all right?” she asked as she ran her fingers across his thin tense face, to be sure he was really there. “Yah, I’m home. I’m all right. I got my things out on the porch. Let me get them.” “I’ll get your bag for you,” Angus said. He pushed past them and picked up the stuffed duffle bag, and came back into the room. “I’m glad you’re home, ‘cause your mother’s been worryin’ about you.” He held out his hand to Fredrick Edward. “I’m sure happy to be back. Thanks for takin’ care of Mom for me while I’ve been gone.” Fredrick Edward shook hands with Angus. “Why don’t you go down the road and tell Millie he’s here?” Rita asked Angus. “I’ll fix a new supper while you’re gone.” “Let me go and surprise Aunt Millie. I’ll bring her back up here real quick.” Rita hesitated. Before she found the right words her boy was out of the door and on his way to Millie’s place. “I didn’t want him to go like that. I wanted him here with me, alone for a little while.” Tears of joy and sadness rose to her eyes. “I’ll go get some water in that pail for you,” Angus said. He left Rita alone in the room. She sat still for a while; her mind felt angry and tired. Slowly she remembered she was supposed to fix supper for her son. An hour went by before Fredrick Edward and Millie came in. Rita had fried bread and chicken and re-heated the boiled beef and corn that she had fixed for noon dinner. She opened some canned peaches, which was Fredrick Edward’s favorite, and poured them into a big dish to set in front of his plate. She made a big pot of coffee and filled the sugar bowl. Then she got some sand-plum jelly from the store closet. She had been going to save it for Christmas but this was a better occasion. 194 Carol Rita “I was sure surprised when I opened that door and found him standing there,” Millie said as soon as she entered the kitchen. “Oh, boy, Mom, it smells good. I’m hungry for your cookin’.” “Sit down, all of you. You say the prayer, Angus.” “You sound like a Christian woman, Mom, with a blessin’. Let me say it. I learned all about that Protestant religion while I was in service.” “No, Angus is the older man. He should ask the blessin’. You are the hero and we honor you.” Angus bent his head and said a little prayer he had learned at the Sauk Agency School. Our Father Almighty, Bless this food to our use. And us to Thy loving service. Amen. Angus picked up the plate heaped with fry bread and passed it to Fredrick Edward. Rita watched her son as he helped himself. She was glad he was home, but in another way she felt sad. She knew things would be different from now on. She handed Angus a large cup of black coffee, and took her place at the table beside him. “What do all those ribbons on your jacket stand for?” Rita asked. “Oh them are things they gave me for stayin’ in that Jap camp all those years. Three and a half years them Japs had me. That blue ribbon with stars on it, they gave me that ‘cause I was one of them ships that our planes bombed ‘cause they didn’t know American soldiers were aboard. It was terrible. I swam to shore pullin’ my buddy, and when I got there most of him had been shot away and he was dead. I was all right ‘cause I had my Indian tobacco in my mouth. I kept it with me all the while I was over there. I still have it.” He showed them the dirty buckskin bag. Fredrick Edward stopped talking and everyone tried to eat a little. Rita got up and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot at the back of the stove, and cleared her plate of dishes. She felt as if she had to move or the walls would cave in on her. “I can’t eat much, Mom. I can’t eat very much anymore. The Doctor said that was ‘cause I was starved so long in that prison camp. He said I’ll be all right after I’m home a while.” Rita 195 Rita took his plate and laid it aside on the sink. She would save the food for his dinner tomorrow noon. “That’s all right, Son. I guess you’re a little excited.” “I brought you all some presents. I got them in my bag.” Fredrick Edward dashed to the other room to bring back his duffle bag. He untied it and dumped its contents on the kitchen floor. “I got these for Angus. They’re Japanese sneakers. They made them like this so those Japs could climb trees.” Angus took the shoes and looked at them in amazement. They looked like mittens for the feast, with a separate place for the big toe and another for all the little toes bunched together. “Them makes me feel sick. Where did you get them?” “I got all my money when I was back in San Francisco and I bought them from a guy who took them off a dead Jap. “Here, Aunt Millie, I got this for you. It’s a real Jap flag.” Millie took the red-and-white flag with interest. “It sure is pretty. Maybe I can make a shawl out of it. I’ll see. Anyway, I’ll keep it ‘cause you brought it.” “I didn’t think you wanted these war things, Mom, so I bought you some cloth in San Francisco.” Fredrick Edward handed Rita a bolt of green silk. “I got green, ‘cause I had a dream when I was in that camp. I was dying, and I kinda drifted off. I saw a beautiful pasture and everything was real green and pretty. Way down at the end of the pasture there seemed to be a boat, and a voice told me I was gonna get on that ship. When I came to, I sorta knew that everything would be all right and I would come home. So I got you green, like that pasture.” Rita stared at her son. She could not move. She felt scared. She knew she had to release her vision. “What’s the matter Mom? You look funny.” “I dreamed I saw a green field and then I saw a boat and it was comin’ right at me. I knew you would be comin’ home.” Rita took the cloth and rubbed her hand up and down its slick finish. “I guess we’re all tired and better go to sleep,” Angus suggested. “Your Mom and Millie are planning a big welcome for you, and tomorrow we got to go around and let folks know you’re here.” “I guess we can have that ceremony on Friday. That will give us a couple of days to get ready,” Millie added. 196 Carol Rita “I’ll walk you home, Aunt Millie. I want to get out in the air a little. It sure is nice to be able to go out any time you want.” Rita watched Fredrick Edward go out the door with Millie. Anger came to her, but she pushed it back. She didn’t want to spoil Fredrick Edward’s first night at home. Angus began to gather up the dishes on the table and pile them in the pan. “We can leave them things,” Rita suggested. “I’m tired and I’m scared. I’m scared about him and me having the same dream. Abraham Garfield said that God had talked to me in my dream and I guess God talked to my boy, too. I’m scared just the same. I hope nothing bad happens.” “You’re tired, that’s why you’re scared. Come on, let’s go to bed,” Angus comforted. Rita slept in fits and jumps. She had so much to think about, getting ready for the proper welcome for her hero son. She noticed that the sky was very black when she heard Fredrick Edward come into the house. She wondered where he had been for so long. The next day, and the day after, people kept coming to see Fredrick Edward. Late the second afternoon the cooks arrived. The menfolks filled the large brass kettles with water in which to boil the food. Excitement was everywhere. The man from the newspaper came to interview Fredrick Edward, but Rita could not find her son, anywhere. She told the man about the welcoming party, and invited all the folks in Stroud to attend. She even invited the Governor and hoped he would get to come. It was mid-afternoon before realized Fredrick Edward and Millie had been gone most of the day. She guessed Millie had gone to Tecumseh to look for Fredrick Edward’s Shawnee Indian buddy from the Air Force Base in Albuquerque. She vaguely remembered his saying that some of the Shawnee folks had said he was home. Rita felt too tired to think deeply about anything. She decided to go down to Millie’s, and take a little nap. There were too many people around her own place for her to get any rest. Rita walked casually down the path to the highway and up the road to Millie’s. She hoped no one had seen her, or there would be more questions and more work. Millie always did get out of work, even when she was a little girl and there was planting to be done. Rita 197 Rita reached Millie’s house. The place looked empty. She tried the door. It was unlocked, so she went in. No one seemed to be there, but as she walked into the house, she saw them in the bed, Fredrick Edward and Millie. Rita banged the door shut after her, and ran from the house. She didn’t know where she was going. She ran as if the horror of the world was chasing her. Her breath grew short, and salty tears stung her eyes. Her heart felt as if it would burst from her body. She stopped on the old Agency grounds, under the big elm tree where she had gathered beads and visited with Uncle Matthew when she was a child. “Mom, Mom, wait for me. Please, Mom, wait for me. Please, please, Mom.” She heard Fredrick Edward’s voice come up the hill to her. “Don’t you come up here, you dirty thing. I don’t ever want to see you again. I wish God had killed you over there in that camp.” She saw her son stop. He stood looking at her. He turned and went down the hill and walked up the highway towards Stroud. Rita sat under the tree long after the sky was lighted with stars. She cried and cried until she didn’t know why she was crying. She prayed to God to forgive her for all the cruel things she had said to Fredrick Edward. She cursed Mother for bringing her into the world and forcing her to live with Millie. At last Rita decided that Fredrick Edward was pitiful. He couldn’t help what he did ‘cause he had the cursed name of Great Spirit. Everything that happened was part of the curse Mother put on him when she gave him that name. Rita damned Mother over and over again, until her own strength grew weak. Then she began to think of Mother as pitiful, the way she searched for someone to love. Rita woke up when the warm sun beat into her face. She pulled herself to her feet, smoothed her dress, wiped her dirty, tear-stained face, and walked down to the hill to home. This was the day for the welcoming ceremony. She knew she must be a proud Mother, in front of all them folks. “Where you been all night?” Angus greeted her at the door. “You’ve been crying. You’ve got a dirty face.” “It ain’t none of your business where I’ve been!” Rita snapped. “I’ve been up at old Agency praying for my boy.” She went to the table by the kitchen door and dipped a little water from the bucket into the basin. She washed her hands and face. Then she looked in the mirror, and combed her hair. She didn’t want anyone but Angus to see her lookin’ like that. 198 Carol Rita “I’m sure glad you’ve been prayin’ for that boy. He’s in there.” Angus pointed towards the bedroom with his head. “The police brought him in late last night. He was drunk. He got in a fight and beat up a fellow. The police said they would of locked him up but seen’s he just got out of a Jap prison camp, they hated to put him in jail.” Rita didn’t answer Angus. She took a damp face cloth and went into the bedroom to tend to her son. “Wake up, Son, wake up,” she said softly. Fredrick Edward rolled over on the bed, so she could see his puffy eyes as he forced them open. “I didn’t mean to do it, Mom, honest I didn’t. When you wouldn’t let me come up on the hill and talk to you, the whole world closed in on me. I felt pressure all over me and my head went funny, like when them Japs knocked me with the butts of their guns. I wanted to go anywhere. I wanted to do anything, to get that terrible pressure off of me. I didn’t mean it Mom.” “I know you didn’t, Son. I know.” “I went downtown and some fellows in the bar bought me beers. I don’t know how many I drank. I got hot in there, and I took off my coat and rolled up my sleeves and they saw it. I got it just for you, Mom. They made fun of me, and I hit one of them. Then I don’t know what happened, except a cop was bringing me here, and angus was pullin’ off my clothes and tellin’ me to stay in bed.” “What did you get for me?” Rita asked, as she wiped his forehead with the damp cloth. “I’ll tell you, Mom. The first time they let me out of the hospital in San Francisco, I just kind of wandered around. I went into a bar. I had a lot of money, and I bought drinks for everyone in the place. A pretty dame came up to me where I was sitting at the bar. She climbed up on one of them high stools next to me. She really had a shape, Mom. She was the first American girl I had seen, except for them nurses and Red Cross workers. Well, this girl got real sweet with me, and I kinda felt hot all over. I looked down at her legs. Her dress was pulled up and she had the most beautiful tattoo on her thigh I had ever seen. I admired it, and she said she would take me to a place where I could get a tattoo just like it. “She took me to a kinda store. I laid down, and the man he worked on my arm for a long while. It hurt something terrible when that sharp needle struck me, and he had to do it so many times. When he was finished I went back to Rita 199 this girl’s house and we had a party. Boy, what a party we had! She was some woman, Mom.” “You’re nasty, pickin’ up a strange woman, and going home and messing around with her,” Rita scolded. “Gee, Mom, don’t get mad again. This was the first time I had a woman in over four years. Mom, I suffered just to get this for you. It was you I was thinking about, all the time I was with that girl. I love you, Mom, honest, I love you.” Fredrick Edward held out his arm so Rita could see the tattoo on his muscle. There were two hearts intertwined with red roses. In one heart was written “Mother” and in the other, “Son”. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “You got this for me, Son! It sure is pretty!” Rita wiped tears from her eyes. “Yah, Mom. I got it just for you, ‘cause I want folks to know I love you and belong to you.” Rita smiled at her boy. She guessed he and Millie were only playin’, like they did when he was a little boy. Millie always acted kinda funny about some things…Rita bent down and kissed her son. “You get up and take your bath. We got to get ready. The man from the newspaper was here yesterday and I told him all about your welcoming ceremony. I invited all the folks in Stroud. The yard is full of people already. I’ll go get that paper and read it to you while you drink some coffee. The mail just come.” While Fredrick Edward drank his coffee rita bathed and put on the new green satin dress she had bought especially for the occasion at Kerr’s, in Oklahoma City. She glanced out of the window, and saw cars parked way down the highway. Everyone in Oklahoma must be here to greet her boy. She felt proud. She went into Fredrick Edward’s room. She thought Fredrick Edward looked handsome in his new clean uniform. His short blonde hair made his blue eyes and sharp nose stand out in the most distinguished way. The bright-colored ribbons pinned across his chest told the world how strong and brave he was. Rita felt real, real proud of her son. “I forgot to give these to you, Mom. I want you to wear my medals on your dress, just the way I wear the ribbons. Please, Mom.” Rita stood still while Fredrick Edward pinned the Silver Leaf, and the Purple Heart on the front of her dress. 200 Rita “There are hundreds of people out there to greet you, Son. Listen to what it says in the paper before we go.” SAUK INDIAN TRIBE WILL HONOR WAR PRISONER Friday, at the Sauk Agency, the members of the Sauk Tribe will be assembled to re-enact an old tribal custom of welcoming back to the tribe a man who has been away to war and who has been a prisoner. Fredrick Edward Hall was a prisoner of war in Japan for three and half years. Following the custom of the tribe, the family and members of the tribe and friends will assemble to honor and pay tribute to this fine young man. The ceremonies will start at 11 A.M. Friday morning when a parade will be formed north and south of the Hall house on the highway, and the two groups will meet in front of the Hall home where the welcome and prayer of Thanksgiving will be given. This will be followed immediately by the Feast of Welcome. A bountiful supper of food is being prepared Indian-style under a tent. Those attending this feast will bring their own dishes and cups and other eating utensils. DO NOT bring paper dishes. At 2 P.M. the ceremonies will be resumed in the schoolhouse just south of the Hall home. This part of the program will consist of singing, speaking and a talk by Mrs. Rita Hall, the mother of the hero. In the evening tribal victory dances will be held on the grounds at the schoolhouse. The general public is invited to join with the Sauk Tribe members and family of the man in this great and joyous occasion. Rita took her son’s arm and went outside into the sunshine and the excitement of this special day.