Goodbye Sky Harbor

by Mathis, Philip Brian

  “Yeah it is.”

  Kushala smiled and held out her hand for Genesis to grab. “Well you two are safe here. I can almost guarantee you that those Chinese men out there don’t have any conflict with our people.”

  Just then Kushala got up from the couch and started making her way towards the kitchen.

  “You kids hungry? Creed?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Alright, you two stay right there, I’ll make you a little something.”

  Creed took Kushala’s sudden departure as an opportunity to continue gazing around the living room at the various artifacts. Creed attempted to take in all First Nation culture that was on display for his own wonderment. Across the living room, there was even a framed photograph of Geronimo on the wall. He remembered back in school reading about the great Chiricahua warrior. The story about how Geronimo had exacted revenge on some Mexican soldiers that had previously attacked him, swiftly wielding his knife while somehow dodging a deathly hail of bullets. Creed also read about stories of the stoic Sitting Bull. The great Sioux warrior unifying other tribes that ended up staving off the intrusion of white men in Native sacred lands, eventually massacring Custer and his men at Little Big Horn. It was all intriguing to Creed.

  “So, what made you guys decide to stop by this evening?”

  “Oh, we just wanted to make sure you guys were all okay out here. Well you know, amid everything.”

  Kushala peered over towards the living room suspiciously. “Oh Yeah? And how’s your Dad doing? I’m surprised he didn’t come.”

  “He’s being stubborn at the moment. He didn’t even want to leave the house when the Army announced they were evacuating everyone to Phoenix?”

  “That sounds like your father. Same stubbornness that runs through your blood.”

  Kushala finished up in the kitchen and brought out a plate of finely cut turkey sandwiches with mini carrots on the side. She sat it down on the beautiful coffee table and then walked over towards her bookshelf. Kushala pulled out a picture book and then sat down right next to Genesis. “Did your dad ever talk to you about the blood in your veins?”

  “He talked a little before mom died, but not so much after that.”

  Kushala opened the book and placed it on her granddaughter’s lap. On the very first page, there were old black and white pictures of various Native’s. There were pictures of women and children standing out in front of their huts, peering at the camera; almost completely statuesque. “Your dad was part Yavapai, on your grandfather’s side. My side was Apache.”

  “He never told me that.”

  “Chiricahua Apache in fact. You’re great, great grandfather Yuma, was cousin to Kaywaykla; who was the son of Gouyen.”

  “Gouyen?” Genesis asked. “That’s right.” Kushala continued. “Yuma and his tribe had spent most of their time on the run from American and Mexican soldiers across these southern lands. Gouyen was part of that tribe and she was a fierce warrior. She fought alongside Lozen, another leader among the people. Lozen and her brother Victorio, who was the chief at the time, fought against many others who wanted their land for resources, amongst many other things. One night, while the people slept at the mount of Tres Castillos, Mexican troops approached and killed as many of our people as they could. Victorio and over seventy other Apaches were killed that night. Gouyen and her son Kaywaykla escaped, and later joined Geronimo’s band.”

  Creed’s eyes began to widen at the sound of Geronimo’s name. It wasn’t so, was it? Creed thought to himself. He wondered if Genesis was somehow related to him?

  “For years they lived free of capture” Kushala continued. “Free of disparity, free of the white men’s peril. However, not long after that, the great warrior Geronimo had eventually given himself up. Gouyen, along with her family and Yuma, were then captured shortly after.”

  “Why did he give himself up?” Creed asked.

  “Nobody really knows. Only Geronimo himself. But maybe he was tired of running.”

  “So, what about Yuma?”

  “Yuma and the rest were all held as prisoners of war at Fort Sill; located in Oklahoma. When my father was a little boy, he spoke about how his people moved from reservation to reservation, until they eventually ended up in Arizona. Way back in the early nineteen hundreds. And that is how I was able to meet your grandfather. You see, back in the settler days, a lot of people would confuse Apache’s with Yavapai. That’s possibly the reason they would send our peoples to the same reservations. So, the Yavapai and Apache intermarried quite often after that. In fact, a lot of the Yavapai and Apache men and women can trace most of their ancestry in these vast western plains. So, my sweet Genesis; princess of both brave Yavapai leaders, and great Apache warriors. That is whose blood lies within your body.”

  Just then, Genesis looked up into her grandmother’s eyes with such awe-inspiring fondness.

  “Now that’s a bedtime story.” Creed announced while sitting behind Genesis with his eyes widened and his mouth slightly open.

  “Even your father was named after a strong Wipukepa leader of the early Yavapai tribe.”

  “That is just – wow.” Genesis finally responded as her grandmother went on flipping through her photo books. She eventually paused at a picture of an older gentleman. The man stood there seemingly peaceful next to his tiny hut, looking fully contentious, as any person could’ve in those days.

  “That is Yuma.” Kushala said.

  “Wow, that’s him?”

  “That’s him alright.” Kushala flipped through the book some more until she got near the end. There at the back of the picture book was a picture of a cute little boy, standing in a big bucket of water while holding a chicken in his arms; looking at the camera with a goofy smile.

  “Now that, is your father.” Kushala boasted.

  “No way?”

  “The great Paquala.” Genesis and her grandmother broke out in a heap of laughter. Her dad had never really kept many pictures of himself when he was a little boy and she always envisioned her father a bit of a dweeb. Now she had a picture to prove it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Pvt. Jeremy Childress was conceived in Huntington, New York at the exact same time the gulf war was ending. Ironically, he was even delivered at the exact same hospital as Col. Posey. That would be pretty much the only distinction between the two men, other than their resounding affection for the Army. Pvt. Childress would grow up to become an idealistic dogface. Most of his life growing up, he was that guy that nobody cared to perturb or pick a fight with. He was rather the guy everyone wanted to have on their side when it came to low brow tussles. Childress wasn’t the sharpest, but what he lacked in brains, he made up in brawn. Regardless, he rarely came into conflict or had any serious issues growing up. Kids were genuinely intrigued by his mindless wit, or they possibly felt that someone of his stature would be useful if they ever found themselves in a pickle. Right after high school Jeremy and his buddy Timothy Newborne joined the Army after a recruiter noticed the two of them one afternoon, lauding the teen’s meaty prominence. Unlike The colonel, military blood did not run in Jeremy’s family, nor did he view this opportunity as the colonel once had as getting to serve his country. Jeremy rather thought the idea of firing off a gun would be fun, while simultaneously getting a chance at fighting the enemy. That fight however would never happen for Jeremy as he was unfortunate to have missed most of the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. Once the attacks on American soil began, the army sent him to Luke Air Force Base to help with moving all their supplies to Sky Harbor.

  The night Creed escaped from the hangar with Genesis, Jeremy was one of the few men outside when the truck that Creed had thrown, slammed through the hangar door; startling everyone outside. Highly curious after the incident, Jeremy went searching for answers in his down time. After finally being granted time with Col. Posey, he was immediately introduced to Capt. Romano, who hadn’t even begun searching for a blood recipient. None of it mattered now as the col
onel was impressed with the private’s incessant willingness to impress. He felt that he had found the perfect candidate for his next mission. Posey felt it was fate that the young private was stationed there at Sky Harbor. Childress was eventually brought out to the same hangar as Creed, accompanied by Capt. Romano and Col. Mitchell. Rey instructed the private to sit in a chair next to a little medical tray. She pulled out a syringe already filled with Creed’s blood. Both Col. Posey and Mitchell stood in the background waiting anxiously.

  “Alright Captain, let’s start.” Col. Posey ordered.

  “Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” Pvt. Childress assessed.

  “Capt. Romano here is going to inject you with a little blood, nothing to worry about.”

  “Who’s blood?” The private asked.

  “Son, this is a special type of blood, something that might help you feel, I don’t know, stronger maybe.”

  “Stronger than I am now?”

  “Well, that’s what we’re going to find out.”

  “Alright, just hold still, this might feel a bit warm.” The captain instructed. Rey stuck the needle in one of Jeremy’s veins on his right arm. She slowly started injecting the blood. After a few seconds the captain relieved the tourniquet, and then removed the needle. A few drops of blood came dripping back out of the Private’s arm before Capt. Romano could swab and dress the entry point. Col. Posey continued looking on with disciplined anticipation.

  “Well son, do you feel any different?

  “I’m not sure. It does feel warm sir.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I’m not quite honestly sure what I’m supposed to be feeling like Colonel.”

  “Well, this is going to sound strange, but do you feel like you could fly maybe?”

  “Sir?”

  “Thrust into the air and fly around?”

  “Are you being serious?”

  “Dead serious Childress.”

  “I apologize sir, but I don’t know what you want me to do right now.”

  “Alright then, let’s start smaller. You see that truck in the corner? Try to move it.” The colonel pointed towards the same truck that Creed had previously tossed against the hangar door. The private looked back and forth from the truck and the colonel; understandably confused.

  “You want me to move it?”

  “Yes private, move it, with your mind.”

  “With my mind?”

  “Yes, you pile of donkey shit, pick up the fucking truck. Go ahead, put your arms out and pick up the goddamn truck.”

  In a sudden bode of frustration, the private stretched out his arms towards the truck like the colonel was asking. He was unsure of what exactly Col. Posey was asking, but at the same time, he simply reacted to the colonel’s irritated tone. The truck didn’t move even an inch.

  “Come on son, what is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know, I’m just not sure –”

  “If you don’t pick up that truck son, I’m going to fucking castrate your entire family, do you hear me? I’m going to find that pathetic excuse of a family of yours and one by one, shove their lifeless bodies into a sausage grinder, and eat their meat for breakfast every day I’m assigned to this shit hole boy.”

  “Alright that’s enough.” Romano protested.

  “Obviously I picked the wrong soldier, didn’t I Childress?”

  Right then private Childress started to feel an uncontrollable anger setting in. With a bolt of irritation traveling through Pvt. Childress, he stood up and moved his hands towards the colonel. Just then the truck moved a whole five feet from its original position. Instantaneously, everyone in the hangar looked over towards the truck.

  “Holy shit.” The private shouted.

  “That’s what I was waiting for.”

  “Did I just do that?”

  “No one else in here did that, I can guarantee you that much.” Posey responded.

  “I just felt a push of energy come out of my body. What the hell did you inject inside of me? What kind of blood is that?”

  “Don’t you worry about all that just yet. What do you say we do a little flying?”

  “Are you serious, I can fly too?”

  “That’s what we’re hoping you’ll show us right now private.”

  “Yes sir.” Jeremy turned and looked around the hangar. He bent his knees and stood there for a second. He then felt a rapid force of energy below his feet and within seconds, was suspending in the air. He couldn’t help but belt out a loud burst of laughter.

  “Holy shit. I’m flying.”

  Everyone in the hangar was smiling except for Capt. Romano. She had just witnessed the colonel’s vicious tone towards the young private, bashing the poor kid until he got what he wanted. Rey sensed where the colonel was taking this and felt like his demeanor was getting worse.

  “How do you feel Jeremy?” Col. Posey asked.

  “Amazing. Was there some type of special serum in that blood?”

  “Something like that kid.”

  Jeremy flew around the hangar for a few minutes before the colonel started barking various orders towards the Private, in which he willingly complied. Before long, Pvt. Childress was picking up the entire truck with his mind, then picking it up with his new-found strength. Finally, he began flying around the hangar with the truck dangling at his side.

  “Alright son, you can come down now.” Col. Posey turned and huddled together with Col. Mitchell while the private finally landed back on the ground. Capt. Romano stood alone by her mobile work station that she set up in the hangar, cleaning up the medical table.

  “Wait a minute.” Pvt. Childress spoke up. “Who is Creed?”

  Everyone in the hangar looked up in complete surprise.

  “Excuse me?” Posey asked.

  “Creed.” Jeremy replied.

  “How do you know that name?”

  Capt. Romano instantly covered her mouth with her hand after hearing the private mention that name. How could he possibly know that name? She thought to herself.

  “You’re trying to find him.” The private instigated.

  “How the hell do you know all that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like I hear your voice in my head.”

  “Wait a minute? Are you reading my mind son?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, what am I thinking about right now private?”

  Pvt. Childress stood there staring over at the colonel attempting to concentrate on his thoughts. “You’re wanting to use his blood on more guys.”

  “Holy shit Mitchell.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The following morning after Genesis and Creed’s arrival, the pair were violently awoken by belligerent screaming coming from the bedroom. Genesis popped up in sudden distress while Creed immediately looked towards the bedroom.

  “Get up, get up. Hurry, we are going to be late.” Kushala yelled.

  “What’s going on?” Genesis rose up from the couch rubbing her eyes.

  “We’re late.” Kushala repeated.

  “Late for what Grandma?”

  “For the Sunrise Dance Ceremony.”

  Genesis froze, and her eyes widened. She peered over at Creed who was still arising from his cot on the floor. “I’m sorry? What ceremony?” Genesis asked. After a few seconds of silence, Genesis eventually pushed off the blanket that was covering her and stood up from the couch. Her grandmother had escaped back into her room, so Genesis walked to the bedroom door and knocked. Kushala suddenly opened the door and rushed back into the living room holding a buckskin outfit and moccasins.

  “Here. This should fit you.” Kushala was smiling peculiarly as she held up the clothing towards her granddaughter. Genesis stood there in shock, unsure what her grandmother had in mind. Genesis could only assume she wanted her to wear the clothing she had presented; however, she wasn’t too sure why. “Okay, what’s this?” Genesis asked.

  “Your clothes for the ceremony.”

&nb
sp; “Alright slow down Grandma, what ceremony?”

  “I already told you, the Sunrise Dance Ceremony.”

  “Right, but what is that?”

  “Well, after we talked, I called up my neighbor Sharon, you remember Sharon?”

  “Sure.”

  “Anyway, I told her you were in town and then we got to thinking. You’re a bit older now, but I wanted to throw you a little Sunrise Dance Ceremony while you were here. It’s tradition really.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “I know, I know, it’s short notice, but I really believe that if I can get the whole community to pull together, we could possibly pull off a really beautiful ceremony. An impromptu ceremony if you will. What do you say?”

  “No that’s not it. You still haven’t told me exactly what a Sunset Dance Ceremony is?”

  “Sunrise.” Kushala corrected.

  “Right?”

  “Your dad never told you? You know what, its fine. Well you’re in for a treat. It’s a traditional ceremony celebrating Apache girls becoming a woman. It’s typically held after the girl’s first menstruation.”

  Creed who was now sitting on the couch overheard and let out a quick chuckle. Genesis stood there in front of her grandmother with her mouth gaping wide open.

  “Grandma!”

  “Oh, come on, it’s not like – that’s not – Look, all Apache girls go through this once they near womanhood. It’s going to be great, I promise. Sharon is going to get everyone together, she already called up the local medicine man, we’re all going to eat, four days of song and dance, it’s great, you’ll see.”

  “Four days?”

  “Well since it’s short notice it might just be three days, but we’ll see.”

  “What?” Genesis was understandably vexed over this sudden proposition she had awoken to. Just the idea of dressing up in buckskin clothing while being paraded around the entire community, singing and dancing for four days did not sound promising at all. Creed on the other hand was still sitting on the couch smiling from ear to ear, innocently getting a kick out of all this. Seeing her in a traditional native outfit was enough to get him excited, but then singing and dancing to boot.