Lakota Justice

by Melinda Williams

  As the smoke circled and purified Hawke, his thoughts went to the power of the sweat lodge. Its purpose was to cleanse the spirit and bring the participant closer to the Great Spirit, Wakan Tanka. This custom known as one of the most powerful ceremonies performed by a medicine man.

  Hawke sat by the fire and started to unfold his medicine bundle, as he began to chant. This sacred ceremony would help him to stay focused on what accomplishments he must achieve to find the killer.

  As the embers crackled, the elder started to speak in a special language. Hawke could not understand what was transpiring in front of him, yet he felt a sacred calm envelope him. The medicine man communicated with his helping spirits.

  Joe Whitehorse he sat on the ground beside Hawke. Peace circled around them, offering an array of hope. He remained quiet and let the spirit of the eagle embrace him. The eagle teaches to look higher than you are and pulls you to touch Grandfather Sun with your heart.

  Tension and uncertainty left his body through his pores. Strength, resolve, and hope rushed into his spirit, each healing what the outside world had damaged. What he felt now, his ancestors had felt for thousands of years in their own sweat lodges. He honored them, respected them, and yearned to be like them. Thoughts of the connectedness of the universe, Mother Earth, the elements, animals, and all aspects of nature from a tiny seed to the soil to the rocks to the giant oak flowed through his mind—sometimes jumbled, sometimes crystal clear. He was a man, a part of the whole of the universe. Being a caregiver to all things he realized the need for his presence. He had a purpose. Time had passed, yet Hawke was unsure how long he had been in the lodge.

  Finally, Joe Whitehorse stood, and he followed. As they stepped out of the sweat lodge, darkness fell . Hawke felt reborn.

  “We have been in good spirit for most of the day.”

  Joe turned to face Hawke. “I had a vision. In my vision, the lynx appeared. Lynx is the keeper of secrets. Where the problem lies is getting the lynx to instruct you so you can find the secrets of others who do not speak the truth. Now, with that said, I feel the lynx is one of your medicines. The things that have caused stress in your life will appear in mental pictures.”

  Joe clasped his hand on Hawke’s shoulder. “Individuals who have hidden things from you will come forth in the mental pictures. You will see their fears, their lies, everything about them. Now, knowing this, you must give respect to all things and you must exchange what you have learned from today. The offering of something can do this. Also, know when to listen and when to keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?”

  Hawke nodded. “I understand and I will do my best to fulfill such a wonderful medicine. I will take your words and the power of the lynx and use them in solving the things which have stressed my heart.”

  “Good, my son.”

  Hawke turned and headed to his vehicle, his strides long, purposeful, his heart pure, now the ceremony was over. When he reached his vehicle, he removed a beautiful blanket and turned to Joe Whitehorse.

  “My wise friend, I offer to you this special gift.”

  Hawke offered him the blanket, and Joe placed the blanket on the table just outside the sweat lodge and unrolled it. Inside the blanket lay a medicine stick Hawke had made by hand.

  Joe held the medicine stick in his aged, gnarled hands and slowly turned. Etched on the wood were the symbols of the hawk and eagle. The eagle symbolizes the spirit and the hawk the messenger. Also the medicine wheel with the four sacred colors painted on it.

  “Thank you, my friend. You have a lot of talent. The medicine stick will be displayed proudly in my home. Everybody who enters will take note of it.”

  “Thank you, Joe Whitehorse for being there for me, for guiding my heart, for retelling the stories you hold tight in your heart, which you know and were willing to share, and for permission to honor your granddaughter. You are a wise wichasha wakan, medicine man. Toksha ake wacinyuanktin ktelo, I shall see you again, tunkasila, Grandfather.”

  Hawke turned and headed to his vehicle.

  He turned the ignition and backed out of the driveway, feeling a peace he had never felt before. Today, he had been given another medicine, one that would help him the rest of his life. Joe Whitehorse was very powerful. His guidance would help him become the next medicine man for the village. He would honor his people to the fullest.

  His thoughts went back to Abby. The pain he saw in her mother’s eyes. The hate of life itself, without her beloved daughter, stamped all over her face. He wondered how she managed to go on. He prayed life would deal him a way to cope with losses. Sometimes, life could stand still then suddenly you were thrown a ball heavy with troubles and to deal with.

  As he headed down the long stretch of road, glancing across at the sacred land of the Lakota, he realized he had been blessed. He would be Lakota, forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  DeShay Greywater sat on the ground, lost in the ancient times of her ancestors. Today was going to be adventurous. Students from the Oglala Lakota College were coming to the dig site. She had fond memories of attending Oglala. Oglala Lakota College. Woksape Tipi: House of Wisdom.” The words would forever be etched in her mind. She had learned a lot about her ancestors.

  Now, she was an archaeologist, a member of the South Dakota Historical Society.

  As thoughts swarmed through her mind, the sound of a vehicle coming down the dusty road drew her attention.

  Her dig today would be at Chimney Butte, near the White River, close to Badlands National Park. In the distance, the multitude of colors sprinkled across the landscape gave an array of sacredness. Mauve, browns, reds, and oranges brought the Badlands to life.

  Mountains popped up across the horizon giving the site radiance.

  DeShay stood as Jacob Little Fire, Senior Professor of Native American Studies, approached, followed by his students. “Good morning Professor Little Fire. I’m glad you are here. I want to let your students know, if you love the outdoors, this is the job for you.”

  DeShay paused as the professor glanced over the dig, nodding in obvious approval.

  “I have set up some different grids so you will get the chance to get some hands on.” She turned and pointed. “You can see Chimney Butte and the edge of Badlands National Park from our viewpoint. A breathtaking sight, isn’t it? Before we get started does anybody have any questions?”

  A young man raised his hand. “I do! What kind of tools do you use, and what kind of artifacts have you found?”

  “Well, we have many tools. The most sophisticated is the GPS, but we also use topographic maps of the survey area, along with compasses and large measuring tapes. The most common excavating tools are the shovel and mason’s trowel.” She lifted each item as she explained. “If the site is delicate, some of the tools used would be the wooden picks, spoons, and brushes.” She held them up for the students to observe.

  DeShay turned and picked up some forms. “The other half of excavation is record keeping. This is very important. We keep track of what is found in each level of earth and use screens to sift through the soil.” She handed the forms around for each student to examine.

  DeShay picked up her water and took a sip. “The artifacts I have found during my time as an archaeologist include arrowheads, animal bones, and pottery, just to name a few. I have uncovered fire hearths and earth lodges. Currently, I am looking for ancient items in the area of Eagle Nest Butte.”

  DeShay remained focused on the young adults and their reactions. She wanted to leave an impression on them no matter what they wanted in life, they could achieve their dreams if they kept focused and let nothing stop them.

  As the students followed DeShay, she instructed them to pick excavation grids, allowing four students per grid.

  DeShay worked hard at being a good teacher. She went to every group, got down on her hands and knees, and showed the students how she did her work.

  “The most important thing to remember is to make sure you have a skilled person w
orking on the site. They will trim and scrape—they do not dig—the soil from the site with virtually no damage to any of the artifacts or features. One must be careful to preserve history. Although we call this area a ‘dig,’ we do not dig.”

  When DeShay was satisfied all the students were following her instructions, she approached Professor Little Fire.

  He nodded and smiled. “I’m so proud of you, DeShay. I watched you out in the field, and I could see your dedication to your work and your students. I knew from your days in college you would be wonderful at this. My thoughts have held true. You have made your people proud.”

  DeShay felt proud and humbled by his praise. “Thank you, Professor. Your remarks mean a lot to me.” A student called for her, and she hurried to help the young man with his question.

  ***

  The day ended too soon to suit DeShay. The students from the Oglala Lakota College vowed to work hard and become one with Mother Earth.

  Professor Little Fire expressed amazement at the knowledge DeShay offered them. He went on to say, “Thank you for allowing us here today. I, as all my students, have enjoyed it. You are a wonderful teacher.”

  DeShay felt proud. Professor Little Fire, an elder, approved of her teachings. Having him announce his appreciation of her work for all to hear was an honor.

  “Professor Little Fire, thank you for coming. If you don’t mind I have one last thing to say.”

  He nodded.

  She focused on the students. “Our ancestors, of long ago, left no words for our eyes to see. All we have are the messages they have left for us upon Mother Earth. We, as archaeologists, have a duty to study and understand the messages, to learn how they lived, who they were, and what happened to them so long ago. They are speaking, but before we can learn about them, we must listen. So, I am proud to say I am an archaeologist.”

  The students clapped and thanked her as they filed past to say good-bye.

  The young people stepped onto the bus, one after the other, speaking among themselves of the day they’d just experienced. It became a time of taking note of the future. DeShay wanted them to take note of the past. She also wanted some of them to become archaeologists, connected with Mother Earth. She prayed she had touched at least one student.

  As the bus left the area, DeShay Greywater turned, with tears in her eyes, to face Chimney Butte and the Badlands National Park. She, along with the students, had unearthed some pottery. She closed her eyes and gave thanks to all the ancestors who lived and walked before her.

  As her thoughts shifted to the open land and the towering mountains, she noticed her ancestors presence, walking every step, she had walked on this day. Her pulse raced at the knowledge her people’s past was buried in Mother Earth, waiting for her to uncover it and make it known.

  As she stared off into the distance, Chimney Butte etched in her mind, a place of her people of today and long ago. A sacred place to her people, one she would return to soon.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two days later, Hawke climbed out of his vehicle, eager to talk to Joe Whitehorse. His gaze swept to the gentle hill where the sweat lodge sat. This simple structure symbolized the Lakota’s beliefs and traditions. It symbolized life, itself.

  His thoughts went to the day, nearly a year ago, when he received the lynx medicine. Inside the sweat lodge, the circle in the center had held heated rocks. The door opened to the east, giving thanks to the spirits each morning as the sun rose. The two fire pits, one on the inside and one on the outside, lined up perfectly to form a stone altar.

  Joe had placed sage and other items on the altar for the ceremony. Above the altar hung the wooden medicine. The medicine wheel has two intersections, inside of the circle. The circle represents life, and the two decussates represents the two roads in life. The red road, which is the good road, and the black road, which is bad.

  The red road is very hard to travel, whereas the black road is easy. Natives used this knowledge to choose the path they would take on their journey.

  Joe’s door opened, and he stepped onto the porch. Hawke raised his hand in greeting approached him.

  “Hey, Joe. How are you?”

  Joe winked. “I guess okay. So, Hawke how can I help you today?”

  Hawke wasted no time. “Joe, I wonder many things. In a dream, the number four comes to me. What could that mean?”

  Joe sat on the porch steps. “Well, the number four symbolizes realities in life. No one form of life is greater than any other form. All living things share one commonality. It’s called the maka wiconi, or life on Earth. All living things are born and we all die. You have a young woman murdered for reasons you do not know yet. The four could represent them, or it could be there are four people involved, or it could mean there are more places to visit before you uncover the truth.”

  This wise elder offered an explanation. One he would consider.

  Joe regarded him for a minute and then continued, “My son, you must be like the moose. He is found in the north on the medicine wheel. Moose medicine symbolizes self-esteem. You must know when to be gentle, like the deer, or strong like the buffalo. You are entering a difficult time in your life. You have come to me, for I am an elder, and you expect answers. I have walked the good road and have seen many things. Therefore, I am the one to offer guidance to all my people. I hope to serve you well.”

  Hawke nodded, showing gratitude and respect.

  “So, my friend, my advice for you is to get to know the wisdom of keeping silent. For, when you have mastered that then you will take pride in your words and know when it is time to speak.”

  “Joe, you know how to handle most situations. I feel lost. How do I solve this murder when nobody speaks my name?”

  Joe faced the east. “My son, walk the red road. The number four has come to you for a reason. Time will reveal what that reason is. Do not question, just listen.”

  Hawke walked over and stood beside of Joe, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Joe, we all serve a purpose. My destiny is to solve this death and get justice. This has been my path for a long time. One I will continue for many more winters, maybe as a police officer, maybe as a medicine man. Thank you for your guidance.”

  Joe faced him again. “You have a purpose, greater than what you know. The number four could simply mean something else. Maybe it has nothing to do with this murder. Take time to examine yourself. The journey you want to walk may prove to be more than you realize.”

  The elder turned and disappeared inside his home.

  Hawke leaned against a wooden post of Joe’s porch. This medicine man forced him to think outside the perimeter. He focused his eyes in the direction of the Black Hills and felt a presence of his ancestors: Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull, and Red Cloud.

  Time would reveal his destiny. He had more to do on this journey in life. Maybe he should walk his path in another set of moccasins. He would follow the path laid out for him, and soon his journey would lead him to his destiny.

  The Black Hills brought back the time of Crazy Horse. He pushed away from the post and headed for his truck, focused on the time of his ancestors. The difficulties he faced were nothing compared to theirs. He would make a stand, now. He would be true to himself, would master the art of listening Joe Whitehorse spoke of.

  Joe Whitehorse was a man of rectitude. The image of respect. He had been blessed by having Joe to guide him. Joe held the truth of being a traditional elder. He kept it simple. He respected Mother Earth and Father Sky. He protected and served his people. His connection to the animals. Many had told him the same about himself. He would become one with Mother Earth. The duty to become the medicine man. He would end his job as police officer and become the next medicine man for his people.

  When the time was right, he would announce it to everybody. First, though, he would discuss it with Melina. Her opinion mattered a great deal. She would support him, for he knew this was what she wanted for him the most.

  TJ Hawke, medicine man. He liked the ring
to it. He would serve his people well.

  As he eased back onto the paved road, the sunset drew his attention. A vision of the medicine wheel, hung down from the clouds. The sign he had been waiting for. He drew closer to solving Abby’s murder.

  He spoke to the spirit, “Nagi tanka, Great Spirit, le mita pila, my thanks, to you for sending me the sign I seek. I will follow the red road, ohinyan, forever. I will become my people’s pejula wacasa, medicine man. Abby’s murderer is close. I will solve this case then I shall walk the red road as a medicine man.”

  He stared at the heavens as he continued on his journey, his mind at peace. He must walk the red road.

  His mind went to Three Paws, a gentle wolf dog. This dog gave him a sense of pride. Three Paws would be his guide, too. He had managed to survive the brutal attack that had left him with one lame leg. Three Paws came to him for a reason and now he believed it was a way for him to come full circle and become the medicine man for his people.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hawke strolled into the station. “Good morning, Kylee. What a lovely day.”

  “Yes, it is. Ms. Two Mile has not called nine-one-one this morning. It’s a first, but who knows, maybe she’s figured out her calls are always about things only she can see.”

  Hawke walked down the hall. As his eyes made contact with Melina’s angry ones, he remembered they had agreed to meet at nine a.m..

  “Melina, I’m sorry.” His words could not come soon enough.

  Her face revealed anger and impatience. “We are to be at Ms. Winters home at ten. Do you think we will make it? Where have you been?”

  Hawke turned and motioned for her to follow. “I’m sorry. I took a walk this morning. I needed some time to think some things through. If I drive a little faster than usual, we’ll make it.”