Shadows of Caesar's Creek

by Sharon M. Draper

  “Our bear was a raccoon?” Rico said in disbelief. “If I wasn’t so scared, that would be funny”

  “Maybe it was makwa, the bear, my young friend, and maybe not. Perhaps because of your fear of the darkness and your lack of knowledge about the

  forest, the night spirits let you think you heard a bear. Perhaps it was only your own fear that was chasing you.”

  “Could be, mon,” replied Ziggy thoughtfully. “We were pretty scared.”

  “We’re on a campout. Can you help us get back?” asked Rico, who worried enough for the four of them.

  “I know that campground; it is on the other side of the lake. How did you get here?” the stranger asked.

  “We found a canoe. We wanted to try a night challenge—like Shawnee boys. At first it was fun, but then the canoe started floating away, so we jumped in, and then we couldn’t get back because all we had for paddles were a board and an umbrella, then our canoe turned over, and we got wet, then we were really lost and got scared and started running—and we ran into you” explained Rico all in one breath.

  “You never told us who you were, mon,” said Ziggy quietly.

  The stranger smiled. “My name is Hawk. Come, young friends. Let me give you food and rest. The journey back is long without a canoe, and Keelswah, the morning sun, will soon erase the shadows of the night. I will take you safely back to your camp.”

  They followed the tall, quiet stranger down a path of soft pine needles to a rough lean-to built of branches and bark. It stood close to a rock wall. A small fire burned quietly, barely disturbing the darkness; the smell of a savory soup greeted the boys, who suddenly realized just how tired and hungry they really were. From a leather bag Hawk brought out four clay bowls, which he filled with the soup and handed to each boy. He had two blankets, so he put one around Rico and Rashawn, and one around Jerome and Ziggy.

  Hawk sat on a log, chuckling, watching the four boys drink the warm soup with satisfied slurps. He knew that the appetite of the young was deep as a valley, so he refilled their bowls several times. He then showed them how to rinse their bowls in a stream that the boys had not even noticed, and they drank the cold, sweet water until they were filled.

  Ziggy burped, and everyone laughed. “Excuse me, mon,” he said, cheerful once again. “That was a delicious meal. Even my mum couldn’t beat that. Many thanks My name is Ziggy”

  “And I’m Rico. You’re a good cook. Thanks for the blankets, too. Are we far from our camp?”

  “My name is Jerome,” added Jerome as he offered his hand to Hawk. “Thanks for saving us.”

  “My name is Rashawn. You saved our lives Do you live in these woods?”

  “I only saved you from the shadows. The sunlight would have made your journey less frightening. And no, I don’t live here. I love these woods—sometimes I need to feel close to the earth and I walk and camp alone for a day or two.”

  “Are you an Indian, mon?” Ziggy finally blurted out.

  “Yes, I am,” Hawk replied with quiet dignity. “I am Shawnee.”

  “You can’t be You wear glasses Indians don’t wear glasses” argued Rico.

  Hawk chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Jerome looked confused. “When I did my report on Indians last year, my history book said that there were no more Shawnee left in Ohio,” he said. “I remember, because I wondered what had happened.”

  “History books do not always speak the whole truth, my son,” said Hawk with a sigh. “There is much that is not said as well. Let me tell you a story.”

  Jerome and Rashawn sat cross-legged on the soft pine-needle floor of the lean-to, their backs against the warm stone wall. Rico and Ziggy sat close to the fire, intent on Hawk’s bright, piercing eyes and wise, warm face. His hair, which was black mixed with gray, was long and tied back with a leather string. He wore dark jeans, a brown shirt, and glasses. Around his neck was a leather thong from which hung a small leather pouch. Hawk’s voice was low but strong as he began his tale.

  “My name is Tukemas Pope and I am chief of the Shawnee Nation of Ohio, United Remnant Band. My friends call me Hawk. We are all who are left of the millions of Shawnee who once called this land home. Our tribal lands are at a place called Shawandasse, which is not very far from here. The word Shawandasse means ‘South Wind People.’”

  “Wow You’re a chief? Should we call you ‘Your Majesty’?” asked Rico.

  “Goodness, no” Hawk said, laughing. “Just call me Hawk.”

  “What happened to the millions of Shawnee you talked about?” Rashawn asked.

  “Some were killed, some died of disease and starvation, and many died as they were forced to move from Ohio to other states. It was a very sad time for our people,” Hawk replied with emotion.

  “That’s awful” cried Jerome.

  The boys sat in silence for a while, then Rico asked Hawk, “Are you supposed to say ‘Native Americans’ or ‘Indians’?”

  “Actually, both are acceptable,” Hawk explained. “We were named Indians by an explorer who thought, when he reached America, that he had reached India. He was really confused. But the name has stuck. As long as you don’t use the word in a negative way, and remember that we are the native people of this country, then ‘Indian’ is usually okay.”

  “I see,” said Rashawn, “kinda like ‘Black’ and ‘African American.’”

  “Yes, a little,” replied Hawk.

  “Are you the chief of a big tribe?” asked Jerome.

  “We have more than six hundred in our band here, but there are hundreds of thousands of Native people living all over this country, on reservations, in small towns, in big cities—everywhere. We are part of the American fabric just like you.”

  “Hey, Hawk-mon Have you ever heard of Tecumseh?” asked Ziggy. “He was an Indian from Ohio. We learned about him in school.”

  “And what about Caesar?” added Rashawn. “We just found out that this park was named for a Black man who lived with the Shawnee. You know anything about him?”

  “Tecumseh was not just ‘an Indian from Ohio,’” Hawk replied with fire in his eyes. “He was the greatest Shawnee warrior ever to walk these lands, a hero to all generations.

  “And yes, I know the story of Caesar as well. Tecumseh and Caesar were friends. Native Americans and African Americans shared much in years past. So much of that has been hidden by the shadows of time. Listen, and I will share with you the secrets and shadows of Caesar’s Creek”

  “DID CAESAR HAVE TO DO MANHOOD CEREMONIES like Tecumseh?” Rico wanted to know. “Our camp counselor told us about the winter challenge.”

  “Caesar might have had to prove his manhood when he was accepted into the tribe, but only boys had to do the winter ordeal,” Hawk replied.

  “She told us she was the great-great granddaughter of Caesar. Are you any relation to Tecumseh?” asked Jerome.

  “No, son. But my spirit relates to him.” Hawk paused for a moment. “Even as a child, Tecumseh was special. The night he was born, a great meteor streaked through the sky. It was a very special sign.”

  “You mean he didn’t get cold when he jumped in that frozen water, mon?” Ziggy asked.

  “Of course he was cold, but he had to learn to find the fire within himself and not feel the cold and the snow and the ice,” Hawk explained.

  “Wow He was tougher than I could ever be,” admitted Jerome. “I bet he ran back to his house when he got out of that frozen water”

  “Oh, no Tecumseh walked back slowly and with dignity, as did his father before him,” Hawk said with a proud smile.

  “Were they glad to get to the last day of that ordeal?” asked Rashawn.

  “Well, yes and no,” Hawk replied. “On the last day of their three-month challenge, the boys had to jump into the frozen water four times. On the last jump, they had to go down to the bottom, and bring back whatever they put their hands on. Sometimes they would bring up grass, or dirt, or rocks; every once in a while, a boy would bring up s
omething really special.”

  “What did Tecumseh find, mon?” Ziggy asked eagerly.

  “It was a stone—but not just any stone. It glowed with different colors and changed as light shined on it. Sometimes it looked like the eye of a panther; sometimes like a star from the sky. It was very unusual and very special. And so was he.”

  “Awesome,” whispered Rashawn.

  “So how did Caesar know Tecumseh?” Jerome asked.

  “Caesar came to the Shawnee when Tecumseh was about eight years old, probably right around the time of his winter manhood challenge. So Caesar would have been one of the elders who helped Tecumseh grow to be the great man he became.”

  The fire crackled, and Ziggy shivered as he glanced at the moon, which was fading as morning grew near. He remembered what Noni had said. She was right, mon, he thought. A mystery moon, she had whispered. Strange events will happen tonight Shadows walk in the moonlight.

  “It’s almost morning,” Rico said. Then, remembering the arrowhead he had found, he took it out of his pocket and gave it to Hawk. “We found this,” he explained. “But I want you to have it. Maybe it belonged to Tecumseh or Caesar.”

  Hawk smiled as he glanced at the arrowhead. “This is very special, and I thank you for the gift. Perhaps it did once belong to one of the great ones. But I want you boys to keep it as my gift, as a memory of this night. Life must give to life,” he said quietly.

  “Thanks, Hawk,” Rico said with feeling.

  “Can you show us how to get back to our camp, Hawk?” Jerome asked. “This has been an amazing night, but we’re gonna get killed if we don’t get back”

  “Well, it looks like you boys got your night challenge anyway,” Hawk said with a chuckle. “Let’s head out of here, young braves”

  They were still a little damp, and really tired, but the four boys were ready to go. They followed Hawk, who knew the easy paths even in the darkness. The miles seemed to pass quickly as Hawk told them stories that his people had told to children for generations. Gradually the darkness faded and the shadows of the night were replaced by sunshine.

  Ziggy’s cheerful mood had returned with the daylight, and he laughed at the birds and squirrels as he jogged on the trail beside Hawk and the other boys.

  “Look, mon” he cried, as he picked up a bright red pebble, then an orange one, then a purple one. “They look like …”

  “They’re not pebbles” cried Rico. “They’re jelly beans Brandy’s jelly beans We’re almost there”

  Hawk grinned, proud that they were able to find the trail on their own. Soon the path widened, and the trees disappeared behind them. They stood once again on the edge of the huge meadow, which still shone with a golden glow. On the other side of the meadow lay the lake that had terrified them just a few hours before. To their left stood the two small tents and the remains of their fire. Noni and the girls ran toward them.

  “Where have you been?” Noni yelled with relief and anger. “We thought you were lost or hurt or worse”

  “We’ve been looking for you since before daylight” Mimi reported.

  “You’re gonna get it” warned Liza.

  “Did you take that canoe out?” Tiana whispered to Rashawn. He nodded and smiled.

  “It was fun at first. I’ll tell you all about it later,” he whispered back.

  The boys introduced Hawk and tried to explain everything that had happened all at the same time. Once Noni understood that they were safe, she relaxed, but they knew they were still in big trouble.

  Hawk said to her, “Don’t be too hard on the young braves here. They did wrong, we know, but they passed their challenge like men. I’m very proud to know them.”

  Ziggy grinned with pride. “Thanks, mon. I have a gift for you, something I want you to have.”

  Rico, Rashawn, and Jerome shook Hawk’s hand and thanked him once again. He hugged them and told them he had to go.

  Hawk stooped down and gathered all eight children around him. “Come, my children,” he said. “Remember the songs of the wind and the trees. Remember the secrets of the shadows. Life must give to life. Tanakia. Farewell.”

  “Tanakia, mon,” said Ziggy softly. “Bye.”

  Hawk turned to wave good-bye as he walked back into the woods. Noni and the children waved, calling their thanks to the tall, smiling Shawnee who proudly wore a slightly damp, many-pocketed, long purple coat.

  ZIGGY LOOKED UP AT THE NIGHT SKY IN AMAZEMENT. The weather had been clear and cold, and thousands of stars decorated the inky blackness of the night. “Awesome, mon,” Ziggy whispered to his friend Rico, who stood shivering beside him. “They look like shiny pieces of hard candy floating up there, don’t they?”

  Rico stamped his feet and blew into his gloves. Even though he had on new, furlined boots and a down jacket, he felt chilled. “It’s cold out here, Ziggy. Let’s go look at the stars from inside your house.”

  Ziggy stretched both his bare hands up to the sky. He wore no gloves, but he rarely took off his favorite hat, a fuzzy black, green, and yellow cap his mother had knit for him. “I feel like I could almost reach up there and pull a star out of the sky and bite it,” Ziggy said with a laugh. “Let’s go in, mon. You look like a chocolate Popsicle!”

  The two friends hurried into the warmth of the house, where Ziggy’s mom had mugs of hot chocolate waiting for them. “Thanks, Mrs. Colwin,” Rico said as he sipped the warm drink. He was glad they weren’t having a meeting of their club, the Black Dinosaurs, in their backyard clubhouse tonight. Ziggy, even though he had been born in the tropical climate of Jamaica, seemed to love the winter weather of Cincinnati, Ohio. He had wanted to meet as they had done all summer, but the chilly winter winds had chased the boys inside.

  The doorbell rang, and Ziggy jumped up to answer it. “What’s up, dudes?” Ziggy said in greeting to the other two members of the club, Rashawn and Jerome. “You want some hot chocolate?”

  Rashawn, tall, thin, and always ready to go one-on-one at the basketball court, walked in wearing his favorite army boots and jacket. Jerome, shorter and stronger-looking, grinned at Ziggy, tossed off his leather jacket, and grabbed a mug of hot chocolate in each hand.

  “It’s really cold out there!” Jerome exclaimed as he sipped first from one mug, then the other.

  “How you figure you get two cups of cocoa?” Rashawn asked.

  “I’m tougher than the rest of you, so I need double the fuel!” he replied with a grin.

  Rashawn took the last mug of chocolate, impressed that Ziggy’s mom had known to make extra, and sipped it gratefully. “I just want to make sure I don’t get the cup with the pickle in it!” He glanced at Ziggy, who, as usual, was stirring his chocolate with a thick green pickle.

  “Why do you do that, man?” Rico asked, shaking his head.

  “The pickle makes it taste better, mon. Besides, we were out of ketchup!” The other boys groaned, but they were used to Ziggy’s strange food habits. The four of them had been friends since first grade.

  “Did you bring your Space Camp stuff?” Rashawn asked the other boys.

  “It’s right here in my backpack,” Rico answered, pulling out a folder of forms and instructions.

  “This is going to be so cool!” Jerome and Ziggy pulled out their paperwork as well. “I can’t wait to get to Space Camp, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed as he sucked the chocolate off the pbickle. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to go into space for real?”

  “Yeah,” Jerome said. “I wonder what you have to do to be an astronaut.”

  “I never thought about it,” Rashawn said. “But I suppose there’s lots of training.”

  “You gotta learn how to read the instruments and fly the space shuttle,” Rico offered. “And know what to do if you have to walk in space and fix something on the outside of the shuttle.”

  “I figure you need to practice what it feels like to be weightless so you don’t throw up, mon!” Ziggy added.

  “When we get to Space Camp, you practice that one by you
rself—okay, Ziggy?” Jerome laughed, held his nose, and moved to a chair away from Ziggy.

  “Let’s go over this stuff, so the Black Dinosaurs Space Team is ready,” Rico said. “I can’t believe my dad is taking us all the way to Huntsville, Alabama, for the weekend. I hope it’s warmer there than it is here in Ohio!”

  “Your dad is the bomb, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed. “I know you only see him on vacations and stuff, but that is so cool that he’s a pilot in the air force.”

  “Yeah, my dad really is all right,” Rico replied. “He took me up in a jet last year on my birthday.”

  “Awesome!” Jerome said.

  “Did you throw up?” Ziggy asked.

  “Of course not! You focus on the strangest things, Ziggy.” Rico shook his head.

  “How long will it take to get there?” Rashawn asked.

  “My dad says about seven hours by car. We go from Cincinnati, through Louisville, Kentucky, and Nashville, Tennessee, all the way down to Huntsville. But that’s not counting stops at fast-food places or to see cool stuff,” Rico told him.

  “You think we can find our hometown chili dogs in Alabama?” Jerome asked. “Cincinnati makes the best chili in the world.”

  “You know, every city thinks its chili is the best,” Rico replied with a grin.

  “It’s even better if you put jelly on your chili dogs, mon,” Ziggy said cheerfully. “Gives them that extra-sweet flavor!”

  “Yuck!” Jerome, Rashawn, and Rico all threw sofa pillows at Ziggy, who dodged them easily.

  “So, what do we take with us besides bug spray?” Jerome asked as he glanced at the stacks of papers that Rico was handing each of them.

  “There are no bugs in space, mon!” Ziggy said with authority, holding two of the sofa pillows on his lap.

  “Yeah, but I bet there are plenty in Huntsville!” Jerome replied. “I take no chances, my man!”

  “Let’s see,” Rico said, reading from the top page of the instructions. “Toothbrush and stuff, pajamas, socks, deodorant …”