Johnny Hunter

by Richard L. DuMont

  “Did you ever think about going to college later?”

  “I wanted to but the kids started coming and I had to work hard just to make ends meet. It can be hard to go back to school after you have been out for a good while. But, I’ll tell you this. It’s way better to get an education to prepare you for whatever life brings you.”

  “But you are very successful without a college degree.”

  “I’ve been lucky and I had to work very hard to make a good life for me and my family. It doesn’t always turn out that way. But you have a chance for a basketball scholarship to college if you work hard at it. I hear you’re pretty good.”

  “Thanks. Did Sarah tell you that?”

  “Yes, but Adam Goodheart is a friend of mine and he speaks very highly of you as a player and a person. He thinks you have a chance for a college scholarship. How long have you been playing basketball?”

  “I’ve been playing since I was five and I love it. But I do worry about money and how having none or little puts a real strain on my mom. The tribal council brings us food once a week and that helps, but we just don’t have any money for anything else.”

  James Pretty Feather just shook his head. “Hang in there, Johnny; I’m sure it will work out in the end.”

  They soon drove onto the Northern Cheyenne Reservation, and in a few minutes, they arrived at the Pretty Feather house. It was a big, yellow brick ranch house that sat on fifteen acres, mostly grassland but some forest, too. Driving up the long, paved driveway, Johnny couldn’t help but be impressed. Big glass windows on the front of the house reflected the winter sun, and they pulled into a two car garage on the house’s side. Behind the garage was a large painted barn that housed their horses and a wooden corral where the three mustangs snorted their greetings. Even in their winter coats, Johnny thought they were beautiful.

  “C’mon, Johnny. You’ll get to see the horses shortly. I’m sure Sarah will want you to help feed them.”

  Johnny ran to catch up and they entered the house through the kitchen door. Mrs. Pretty Feather smiled at them. “Wipe your feet or you’ll track mud all over the house.” They both slid their boots across a blue rug designed with white stars.

  The kitchen was big by Johnny’s standards. A white refrigerator and stove filled in one wall and there were cherry cabinets everywhere. A small wood table sat in the middle of the room under a white ceiling light. Tan patterned linoleum covered the floor.

  Johnny started to take off his coat when Sarah walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Johnny. Leave your coat on. It’s time to feed the horses and it’s pretty cold out there.” She wore the same jeans and shirt as she had at the office, with a knee length wool coat and red ear muffs. “Will you help me feed them?”

  “Sure. I want to see them up close anyway. They looked beautiful as we drove up the driveway.”

  They left the kitchen and walked across the yard into the horse barn, which had six horse stalls. It smelled of hay and horses, a smell Johnny loved. As they entered the dimly lit barn, Sarah took Johnny’s hand and gently squeezed it. “I’m glad you came back for dinner,” she said turning her smiling face to him.

  He leaned down and gently kissed her. “Mmm,” Johnny said. “Me, too.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Sarah said, gently pushing him away. “Mom will have dinner ready in a few minutes, so we can’t stay out here too long.” She gave him a hug. “Come on.”

  The horses had entered the barn on their own, and Sarah and Johnny easily put them in their stalls. “I guess they know it’s feeding time,” Johnny said.

  Sarah stuck a pitchfork in the hay and dumped its contents into the feeding tray for her horse, a big roan. “Here you go, Red,” she said.

  “Is he yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s pretty big. Do you ever have trouble with him?

  “No, he’s been my horse since I was about eight, and I think he loves me as much as I love him.”

  Johnny reached over the railing and tried to pet the horse. Red tried to bite him. Johnny reacted quickly and pulled back his arm.

  Sarah laughed. “He’s jealous, too.”

  They fed the other two horses—one was a dark brown with white markings on her legs and the other was black with a white stripe down her nose and white near her hooves. Johnny thought they both were beautiful.

  “Do you think we could ride together sometime? I could bring Thunder over here and we could ride around on your property.”

  Sarah smiled at him. “I would like that. You’d have to call my mom or dad to make sure it was okay, but I think they would be fine with it, though. They’re not too fond of me riding alone, but they work so much that they don’t have the time to ride. And my brothers are gone most of the year at college.”

  They held hands as they walked through the barn into the fading sunlight. Sarah withdrew her hand from his as they approached the kitchen door. This time he smiled at her.

  The warm kitchen smelled of roast beef and other wonderful cooking smells. “Go wash up,” Mary Pretty Feather said. “Dinner is just about ready. You can wash your hands here in the sink, Johnny.”

  Soon they were all seated in the dining room around a dark oak table full of roast beef, sweet potatoes, corn, and fry bread. The table was set with a glass of water at each setting. Mr. Pretty Feather lowered his head and led them in the traditional Catholic blessing of “Bless us, O Lord” and soon plates were full of food. Johnny tried to eat slowly but hunger won out and he quickly ate everything on his plate.

  He looked up to see everyone at the table smiling at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t usually eat that fast. It all tastes so good.”

  “It’s fine,” Mary said. “It’s good to see a real appetite. When the boys are home on break from school, I can’t ever get them to eat slower. It won’t be long before Christmas break.”

  “They’re at Montana State, right?” Johnny asked.

  “Yes, they are,” Mary said.

  “Did you go there, too?” Johnny asked as he wiped his plate with fry bread.

  “No I didn’t, Johnny. My family didn’t have any money, so college was out of the question. Luckily, I got a job as secretary at Miles City Construction where I met James. We soon started dating and then we got married, and the first of our boys, Jeb, came along pretty quickly. Like James, I wanted to go to college but life got too busy. William followed soon after and then we had a longer period before Sarah was born.”

  James joined the conversation. “We both agreed that our children would have the opportunity to get a college degree. We spent our money wisely so we could afford to send them. Sarah will be able to go when she graduates from St. Andrew.”

  “Now,” Mary said. “Who wants berry pie for dessert?”

  After dinner was finished, Mary and James went to the living room while Sarah and Johnny cleared the table and washed the dishes. “That whole meal was delicious. Do you always eat like that?”

  “Not always,” Sarah answered. “Sometimes Mom and Dad work late so we might eat a smaller meal or just make some sandwiches.”

  “I hope I didn’t upset your mom asking about college.”

  “No, you didn’t. They’ve made a good life for our family and that makes them both very happy. But they do want us to have the built-in advantage of a college education.”

  Mrs. Pretty Feather came back into the kitchen. She put together a full plate of leftovers and wrapped them in a towel. “This is for your Mom, Johnny. James will give you a ride home now.”

  “Thanks again, Mrs. Pretty Feather. Everything tasted great.”

  “You’re welcome. Why don’t you plan on coming back for dinner next Saturday after work?”

  “Sure, if it’s okay.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Sarah walked him to her father’s car. “I’ll see you at school.” She held his hand for a moment.

  “Goodbye,” Johnny said. “See you on Monday.”

  The short drive home was qui
et, and they soon pulled into Johnny’s driveway. “Thanks, Mr. Pretty Feather. I’ll see you next Saturday.”

  “Maybe sooner. We’re going to try to catch the basketball game this week.”

  Johnny closed the car door and carried the still warm food to the house. What a great day, he thought.

  THE SUN ROSE late on a winter Sunday morning, and Johnny wanted nothing more than to stay in his warm bed and sleep. His muscles ached from Saturday’s work at the construction yard. But, he knew it was Sunday and soon Minatare shook his arm.

  “C’mon, Johnny. Time to get up or we’ll be late for Mass. I don’t like to be late.”

  They made it on time and sat in the pew next to Richard Amos and his mother. Father Shannon gave a brief eulogy that Johnny paid little attention to. He had spotted the Pretty Feather family sitting on the other side of the aisle and tried to catch Sarah’s eye but she never looked his way.

  After Mass, his mom made sure to thank Mary Pretty Feather for the food, telling her how delicious everything was. They hugged for a moment. Johnny decided to take his chances. After shaking hands with James, he gave Sarah a quick hug. She looked pretty in her blue dress, although it was mostly hidden under her winter coat. Sarah hugged him back and they said their goodbyes.

  When they got home, Johnny changed shirts, putting his best blue dress shirt on a hanger. He didn’t really have many dress clothes, and the suit for his father’s funeral was too new to wear to church.

  Minatare sat at the table drinking tea. “Sit down, Johnny, eat your breakfast, and tell me all about your day yesterday. And thank you for giving me the six dollars you earned. Here’s a dollar from your pay yesterday. You deserve it.”

  Johnny took it. “Are you sure Mom?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. But those five dollars will help us a lot. So buy yourself something fun.”

  They talked about working at Miles City Construction and then dinner at the Pretty Feather’s house. Minatare wanted to know all about how big it was, how it was decorated, and how much land they owned. After talking for an hour, they sat quietly for a few moments.

  “Mary asked us to come for a Thanksgiving dinner even though it’s already past. With your dad’s funeral, we just didn’t celebrate the holiday. I told her yes but that I didn’t think Gray Man would be there. You know, he hates Thanksgiving. He thinks it was the start of the end for all Indians, including the Cheyenne. We have to work out when we can do it. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s great, Mom. And I think you are right about grandfather not wanting anything to do with it.”

  They sat quietly for a few more minutes.

  Finally, Johnny spoke. “Where is Grandfather? I haven’t seen him all week.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “At first I didn’t worry but it’s been almost a week, and I’m afraid he might be lying frozen somewhere on the reservation. Would you go look for him today?”

  “Sure. I’ll start at Logan Badger’s house. He usually knows where Grandfather is.”

  After helping his mom clean up the breakfast dishes, Johnny put on his sheepskin jacket and walked the short distance to the horse shed. He greeted Thunder and then stroked his father’s horse. “I know you miss him, Little Girl. I haven’t been good at riding you but I’ll try to do better.”

  One stall stood empty. Wherever Gray Man was, Wakah had taken him there. Johnny put hay into the stall feeders, refreshed their water, and waited until Thunder whinnied that he wanted to go.

  He put a saddle on Thunder, who jumped around, ready to run. Johnny walked him out of the shed and climbed onto the saddle. “Let’s go see the Badgers,” he whispered into Thunder’s ear. “But go slow down the driveway.” The horse walked slowly down the snow-covered driveway. Reaching the road, he found the well-used horse trail on the far side and started trotting toward the Badger’s house.

  They soon arrived and Johnny felt some anxiety when Gray Man’s horse was not there. He dismounted and climbed up the wooden steps onto the porch just as Estelle opened the door. An orange cat slipped into the house, jumping over her foot.

  “Damn cat,” she said. “Come on in Johnny. You are always welcome here.”

  Johnny smiled. The orange cat had lived with the Badgers for years. Estelle wouldn’t admit to it, but she fed the cat and, on really cold winter nights, she let it in to the warmth of their house.

  Logan Badger, wearing faded red long underwear, sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee from a tin cup. “Hey, Johnny Hunter, nice to see you. Have a seat and Estelle will bring you a cup of coffee. It will warm you up.”

  Not wanting to be rude, he slid his coat on the back of a chair and sat down. Estelle brought him a steaming mug of coffee, spilling some as she sat it down on the wood table.

  “Darn shakes,” she muttered. She sat down and took a sip of coffee.

  “What brings you out here on a cold winter’s day?” Logan asked. He wore a sweater over his underwear and a washed-out green scarf.

  Johnny took a sip, scalding his tongue with the hot coffee. “Wow, that’s hot!” He blew in the mug and sat it down. “I’m looking for Grandfather. Have you seen him? He hasn’t been home for several days and Mom is worried about him.”

  “Oh, he’s fine,” Logan answered. “He’s spent a few nights here. We talk about the old days a lot, when we were young and strong. Then he gets on his horse and rides around the reservation visiting other old timers like us. Sometimes he sleeps in a cave out by the cemetery. I think he might be avoiding your house a little, too. Even though Gray Man and your father argued a lot, he still felt sad when Billy died. He’s angry too because Billy’s drinking problem probably killed him.”

  “We are sorry about your father’s death,” Estelle said. She placed her bony fingers on his hand. “It’s just so sad what alcohol does to the Cheyenne.”

  “Thanks,” Johnny said, taking another swallow of the strong black coffee. “I’m glad Grandfather’s been here and is safe. Mom will be relieved. Do you have any idea of where he went today?”

  “To the Northern Cheyenne cemetery,” Logan said. “He said he wants to make sure your father has gone to meet our ancestors. I think he might still be there.”

  “More coffee?”

  “No thanks, Mrs. Badger. I’m going to go find him and get him to come home.”

  Johnny stood up, put his mug into the sink, and slipped on his coat. He hugged them both, opened the door, and mounted Thunder. “Let’s go, boy,” and they headed for the cemetery.

  Johnny and Thunder trotted through the iron gate but Gray Man was not there. He then rode up to the highest hill in the cemetery. Below him lay the entire Cheyenne Reservation. The white hills and valleys, the agency buildings, and the silver ribbon of the distant Tongue River were spread out in front of him. The sun reflected off the ice and snow, looking for all the world like a giant Christmas card. A hundred yards below, in front of a cave, he saw a horse grazing and smoke rising from a fire. In the clearing, Gray Man danced and chanted in a circle around the small fire.

  Johnny slowly rode Thunder down the snow-covered hillside and stopped next to the cave. He slid off Thunder and ran breathlessly to Gray Man. “Grandfather, what are you doing?”

  The old man looked at him but did not speak. Instead, he stood and started dancing, throwing off the white buffalo robe he had wrapped around him. The old man was naked, except for a breechcloth and moccasins. “Maheo-o-o-o,” he shouted, dancing to a non-existent drum. “Vosta-a-a-a.”

  Johnny found a tree branch and started pounding on a pine log. The thumping seemed to enhance the chant and Johnny started singing, too. “Maheo-o-o-o.”

  Gray Man danced in small circles, closer to the fire. He took the magic sand and tossed it in the flames, making a puff of smoke flash into the blue sky.

  The dance went on and on, growing intense and then easing up. Sometimes Johnny danced with Gray Man until he grew tired. The old man’s bony chest heaved for breath, but still he danced, ci
rcling the fire, stomping his moccasins in the wet earth. During the dance, he did not speak.

  An hour passed. The winter sun rose above them and cast long afternoon shadows.

  Gray Man suddenly started shaking. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backward on the snow. His whole body shook for a minute and then he lay still on the ground. After a moment, he sat up.

  “Ho, Hunter,” he said, licking his lips. “Your father is okay now. Grandmother came in my vision and took him by the hand through the dark places on the Hanging Road to the Sky Country. All the whites’ firewater left him and his tasoom is with his fathers. His soul is safe with our ancestors.”

  Johnny picked up the white buffalo robe and covered the thin shoulders of Gray Man. “You really saw him safe in heaven?” His grandfather nodded in affirmation. “That makes me feel a lot better. But it scares me when you start to shake like that,” Johnny continued. “It’s like you’re not in this world anymore.”

  Gray Man smiled. “I’m still here, but I’m also far away.” He pulled on his ear for a minute. “I couldn’t come to the funeral. Did the priest say the prayer words over your father?”

  “Yes. I think he was actually sad.”

  “He should be sad. He helped kill your father by making him a little white man.”

  “Don’t say that, Gray Man. Father Shannon is not my favorite but don’t say that.”

  The old man studied his grandson, his eyes dark and perplexed. “Okay, okay. I understand how you feel. It just upsets me when a red man dies from too much whiskey.”

  Johnny stood and stretched. He suddenly felt cold and realized the water had soaked through his boots. The air was turning colder as the sun lowered in the western sky. “Grandfather, will you go back and visit Dad’s grave with me? They might have his gravestone in place by now.”

  Gray Man stood stiffly. “That is a fine idea. A lot of my friends are buried there, and wherever our people’s bones are, it is a good place to be. We can draw strength from them.” He wrapped the robe around himself and picked up his bow and arrows and a long stick out of the snow. Using the stick, which was decorated with two eagle feathers, to support him, Gray Man started walking up the hill toward the cemetery.