Apache Winds

by Danny Jewell

  Zeke smiled and at that moment he was proud of who he was and glad that someone of his mother’s convictions and character was his mother and all he could say was “Yes momma”.

  His mother’s name was Marie and she was named after the Voodoo Priestess Marie Laveau and was a very proud and strong woman.

  She continued on and Zeke knew better than to interrupt her. “Now son, then I told her my grandbabies were not going through life with a mother that had a revolving door in her house that let every man with a knot in his pants come and go. I asked her if she pressed charges at the hospital and she said she told the police you did it and that is when I laid the law down. Your momma ain’t messin around and don’t give a flitter as to what she thinks. I gave her one week to change her story or Child Services and Grandma will take those boys away. Now you go ahead and take a week off, enjoy yourself and don’t let what is going on here bother you. Leave it to me and this old fool you call your daddy to take care of things on this end. Momma loves you baby”.

  “I love you too momma” and before he could speak again heard the phone go “click” and the line went dead.

  He was on a dimly lit street about a block away from the bus station.

  He walked a short distance to clear his head was looking through the windows of shops when he came to one that read “Maggie’s Book Store” and there in the window was a book on display titled “The Trail of Tears” and he thought how appropriate it was for him in the last few days.

  Just as he was looking to see what he could about the book he heard a couple of voices. He looked up to see three young hoods and one said “What you doing down here this late at night, Boy”?

  He was in no mood for this kind of nonsense and before he could speak the boys looked startled and took off as if they were running for their lives.

  At that moment he heard a heavy Irish accented voice say “Hennessey’s the name, you must be new around here”.

  The old officer extended his hand and Zeke could not help but notice the firm grip.

  He told him he was from out of town for a few days and visiting his aunt down on 39th Street for a few days.

  The old cop glanced down at the store front window and to make conversation Zeke asked him about The Trail of Tears. The old Irishman told him what he knew of the lives lost and separation of families the best he could.

  Zeke was looking at the book and reminding himself to pick it up in the morning when he heard the officer form over his shoulder say “Go west young man, go west”.

  As he turned to say good bye a cool breeze ruffled his shirt. He found himself alone, looking down the dimly lit streets of Atlanta.

  3

  AND SO IT BEGINS

  Zeke had driven to Fort Gibson Oklahoma and had come to the end of his journey.

  He had been thrown out of two hotels due to the color of his skin and endured what he thought was enough of the heat to last him a lifetime.

  Just as he was feeling that this was about the dumbest thing he had ever done in his whole life he spotted a gas station not too far in the distance and figured he would fill up the gas tank and get a bite to eat before turning back, that is, depending on who was running the place.

  He was weary from the road and not enough sleep when he pulled into the Texaco Station just outside of Fort Gibson Oklahoma.

  He paid for his gas, sandwich, R.C. Cola and a Moon Pie.

  The old Indian looked at him with a knowing eye.

  Ezekiel Henley was lost in the old man’s gaze when he handed him a five- dollar bill paying no attention to the change he had been given in return.

  He looked at him and said “WHAT”?

  The old man looked back and said “Chosen One” and the wrinkled old face broke into a wide smile.

  As he made his way to the door he looked back and saw the old man motioning as if talking to someone who was not even there.

  Zeke reached the pump and looked down at his hand. There in it was a five-dollar bill and a Talisman. Zeke spoke aloud saying “Crazy Old Fool”. He finished pumping his gas and looked back to see the Old Indian sitting in one of the two rocking chairs in front of the store.

  He walked over to him and before he could speak the old man motioned for him to sit in the seat next to him. “Sit, my son” he said.

  Zeke started to protest. He had no need or want at that moment for human contact after what he had been through over the last couple of days and told the old man “I don’t have the time and you gave me too much change”. He held out his hand and said “And a little Trinket”.

  To his surprise the Old Indian reached forward and folded Zeke’s fingers inward covering back up what was in his palm. He then replied “Young man, your journey to find yourself and what life has in store for you has just begun and you have nothing but time, sit, please”.

  The voice that came from this stranger was so different than that of what he had come in contact with while on his journey. He sat in the rocker and all his tensions and anxiety poured out from every poor in his body and he slumped in the chair.

  Still questions remained and he started to say “Look, I………… and was cut off by the old man.

  “My people have roamed this land since the beginning of time and we have believed in so many different things. Northern Indians thought the world was a giant turtle and we lived by grace on its back. The Apache believed a little girl was given life and asked questions of the Great Spirit that with each reply created Heaven and Earth.”

  Zeke was liking this old man and was enjoying his sandwich and the stories the old man was telling.

  He continued “Just as the world has changed and evolved so has the thinking and the ways of the Indian People. Many moons ago a tribe of Indians called The Jumanos in New Mexico were visited by a Nun. Her name was Maria Jesus de Agreda and she healed the sick, ministered to the needy and preached the word of The Great Spirit to them and many others in Arizona and Western Texas. She was a Spanish Nun who never left her province of Soria. She nevertheless traveled by spirit, a process called bi-location. The way of life as we knew it was foreseen by her to be coming to an end and would be replaced by the White Man with his paper promises and fire water. Your Native people from your home land have much in common with my ancestors and one accompanied Lewis and Clark and because of his ability to communicate with the Indians through dance they were allowed to travel across this great nation. Now my son; your true journey begins here and how it ends will depend on the choices you make along the way. You must continue on to Cochise County in Arizona and there you will find the answers you seek”

  .

  Zeke had finished his meal and wondered if the Old Indian had spent too much time in the sun. He thanked him and asked “What about the wrong change and the trinket you gave me”?

  “Give me back the five-dollar bill and as for the trinket, it is a powerful amulet that will help you along your journey. Never let it out of your site”.

  He looked back as he started his truck and the old man waved goodbye.

  4

  REST IN PEACE

  Zeke had taken the old man’s advice and followed his instincts. He had heard that the desert gets cold at night and had no plans of getting the hard looks and to be turned away by some unkept, unshaved white motel manager in a sweat stained shirt that smelled like stale beer and cigarettes.

  He stopped in an army surplus store and although the shop keeper was not very friendly Zeke regaled him about stories of being in Korea during the war. Although it was untrue and was stories he had heard at the bar, it worked and made the transaction go much better.

  The store clerk asked him what he had planned to do with the parachute from a flare and the rest of the gear he had bought. Zeke just replied “Gold Mining”. The Clerk’s reply was only “Boy, did you take a bullet to the head in the war or are
you just plain dumb? There ain’t no gold in them hills, only stories of The Lost Dutchmans Mine.

  Zeke caught the slur and said “Didn’t take a bullet to the head and if I did I surely would not have asked where it come from”.

  He knew the clerk caught on about being nosy when as he was going out the door he heard the man mention his color followed by a curse word.

  The desert shadows were about to close in as the afternoon waned on and Zeke started looking for a place to bed down for the night.

  In the distance he could see an old road that may have been used for access to the foothills where the dreams of gold fell short and faded away with time.

  As he drove closer he noticed it looped around an outcropping of boulders and disappeared. He followed it for a mile, went around the boulders and in the shadow of a butte he saw it disappear into the rocks.

  The opening was small and his truck just fit through it to come up on a small clearing.

  He thought for a moment then backed his truck out then backed in as if to plug up the opening with his truck and claiming the clearing all to himself.

  The military air mattress was blown up and placed in the bed of the truck. The old sleeping bag was set on top of it and the parachute was then set over the bed to keep out the bugs.

  Zeke did not realize how tired he was until he had finished his canned beans and canned spam.

  He set a couple more at the head of his mattress for breakfast and as he laid down barely remembered looking through the netting at the stars.

  There were no restless dreams or tossing and turning, only blessed sleep.

  5

  A FOOLS CHANCE

  The morning sun had warmed things up quickly and in so doing brought Zeke into a new dawn with a dry mouth, a full bladder and an empty stomach.

  He looked over to where he had placed his canned breakfast and it was gone!

  He came to a sitting position and with his head pushing up the netting he looked across the clearing to see a man sitting on some rocks eating his breakfast.

  He had come a long way and wanted no contact with another human being and yet, one was sitting not fifty feet from him acting as if what he was eating was his to begin with and did not care who noticed.

  Zeke shouted “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING”?

  The man looked at him and casually said, “It does not matter who I am and I think it is obvious as to what I am doing’.

  Zeke was not happy, not with his answer and certainly not with how he related to being caught.

  He had noticed the man’s features, dark skin, long black hair, jeans, plaid shirt, bone handled knife in his belt and a head band. He was an Indian.

  Over his shoulder while relieving himself Zeke asked “What gives you the right to come in here, take a man’s food and encroach upon his space”?

  The Indian looked up and as Zeke turned to face him said “I was here first, watched you go about your business and as far at the food is concerned, at least I did not break the window and get into your supplies. I slept under your truck in my bedroll and appreciate the netting in helping keep out the bugs, as to encroachment is concerned, you are in the land of the Apache, my people and your kind is not welcome here”!

  Zeke finished packing, looked over and saw the Indian was still sitting there watching him go about his business. He told him he could keep his dried up piece of land because he was leaving and the Indian told him that it was okay with him because he and his motorcycle could not leave until he moved his truck anyway.

  Zeke got in the cab, put the key into the ignition and turned it in anticipation of getting as far away from this thieving, obstinate Indian as he could.

  There was no sound, no click, no engine coming to life, nothing.

  The truck jostled only to the Indian sliding off the roof and hood. He raised the hood and yelled “TRY IT AGAIN”, Zeke did as he asked, still nothing.

  Together they tried to push the truck out from the rocks only to find it was stuck and would not move.

  Just as they were about to try again there came a distant sound of a siren from down on the highway.

  The Indian came alert and said “gather your things if you want to survive. They may be looking for me and if they are, Sheriff Jim Davis won’t care what you say. The only thing he hates worse than Indians is Blacks and there is plenty of desert in which he can bury you in and nobody will find you”.

  Zeke was stunned. He asked “What”.

  The Indian looked at him and said “My name is Billy, I will explain later, Tombstone is a two day walk from here and I can get you there, then we can go our separate ways”.

  The two men had no respect for each other and set out through the rocks and crevices. The heat was unbearable. The cuts on Zeke’s hands became more pronounced as he tried to pull himself up through the rocks. There were tears in his jeans and he slipped more than once while making his way through the rocks.

  Zeke was about to say he had had enough when he saw the look on the Indians face.

  They stopped later in the day and he noticed the sweat wasn’t just about the heat. The shaking of the hands told him all he needed to know, it was the DT’s from going without liquor and he had seen it many times at the bar.

  Zeke felt it was best if they started a conversation and he spoke of his trip. He got to the part where he met the Old Indian and Billy slowed in his chewing of spam and glanced over to Zeke. Zeke did not even notice and when he got to the end Billy asked “Did he say anything else out of place”?

  Zeke said “Yeah, he kept calling me his son and gave me this”. He pulled the talisman out of his shirt and Billy dropped the remainder of his can of potted meat to the ground.

  Billy said “His name is “Owl Song” and he is the greatest of all the sages and medicine men of the Indian Nation. I have heard stories of him and what his future site has seen. He is Choctaw and like so many others in the Indian Nation want to see him but if he has nothing to say, he says nothing. He only speaks when he chooses and many a Brave have wasted a trip going to see him. The Talisman represents all those who walked and died on The Trail of Tears” and it is said to have magical powers. Most likely he referred to you as “my son” because you were linked to him in another place and time”.

  There was no more talking because while Zeke was feeling like he was living in a crazy dream, Billy was thinking his nightmare was only getting started. He told himself it should have been he who got to see Owl Song and should be wearing the Talisman. The more he thought about it the angrier he became and it lead to anything but a peaceful night’s sleep.

  Zeke, on the other hand fell into a deep sleep despite his cuts and bruises. He found himself waking during the night to the sound of drums and Indian Chants.

  The next morning, they woke at the first light of dawn and met at the bag of supplies. They bumped into each other and words were exchanged which led to a push and a shove that escalated to punches being thrown and a series of rolling in the sand for each of them wanted to show who was the alpha male here.

  Billy told Zeke he had no right being linked with his Indian Heritage and Zeke said he did not care about the Indians or their Happy Hunting Grounds and did not want to be here.

  They came off the ground locked in each one’s grasp and stopped cold in their tracks. They heard a horse bray and turn to see an Indian astride a magnificent Black Stallion.

  The man was in full regale. Buckskin style pants, Buckskin vest, Full headdress that stood out against the morning sun and carrying a lance that was ornate and created by hands of a true craftsman.

  It wasn’t the clothing that made the man stand out to Zeke, it was the physical features and the outline of his face.

  Zeke had learned of Athena in school and how her beauty could launch a thousand ships, this m
an for all intents and purposes was the Indian version of her and for all the strangeness of how it sounded, Zeke could only describe the man with one word “Beautiful”. Nothing was out of place on his well sculpted body and broad shoulders, even his big nose seemed to give him stature.

  6

  LIVING LEGEND

  Zeke looked over at Billy to see him staring as if he were in a deep trance. He thumped him and asked “Friend of yours”?

  Billy stammered and when he caught his voice he could only say “COCHISE”!

  When Billy uttered the name he found himself getting weak in the knees all the while hearing Zeke protest by saying “No it ain’t, Cochise is one dead Indian. I learned that in school.

  Billy could not take his eyes off the man. He only said “He is buried in the Dragoon Mountains and nobody knows where. We grew up hearing stories of his legacy. There is a bust of him at the museum and a photo of him with his wife in later years. He never let anyone take one of him in his youth. I have spent many hours wondering what he looked like and now here he is”.

  Zeke asked “You are and Indian, ask him what he wants”!

  Once again Billy stammered as if he did not know what to say.

  Cochise turned his mount towards the men and spoke. Zeke’s ears heard the native tongue in his hears and in his mind it seemed to get translated into English. It took a moment to get used to. “I am here as your Spirit Guide, to take you on a journey to find your true selves and what you are destined to be. You will be Yoke Mate’s, get used to it.