The group entered the room designated for Dakota, while Lance explained the arrangements, and both newcomers stopped and gaped silently at the opulence of their surroundings. The giant bed, lush carpeting, heavy brocaded drapes and fancy light fixtures clearly flummoxed both of them, much as they had Lance and Ricky upon first moving into New Camelot.
Lance waved his arm toward the door adjoining Kai’s room. “Pretty cool, huh? Oh, your room is through there, Kai. Same layout.”
Kai just stared, so awed he didn’t even laugh. Dakota’s face remained deadpan, as always, but his narrowed brown eyes swept over the room and its furnishings as though fearful something might attack him.
To break the awkwardness, Lance said, “So what is it with you guys and different names? Are you also called Cloudy Boy and Laughs A Lot at home?”
Dakota grunted noncommittally, but Kai just grinned. “No, they’re nicknames we gave each other. I’ve known this guy since we were six, and even back then I told my mother I met a Lakota boy with a cloudy face, cuz, well, it was, just like now. Like a cloudburst waiting to happen. So that’s what I called him.”
Suddenly shy, he glanced over at Dakota, who stood stiffly, bow and arrows and travel bag still slung across his back.
Dakota’s face did, Lance realized, look like a cloudburst waiting to happen.
The Lakota boy shrugged. “Yeah, well this bonehead never stopped smiling or laughing since he was six. He thinks life is funny or something. So, my six-year-old ass started calling him Laughs A Lot.”
Kai looked sober all of a sudden, as though he wanted to ask something, but instead he sighed. “Life without laughing isn’t life, Cloudy Boy. Try it sometime.”
Dakota ignored him. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Lance and Ricky, who were silently watching both boys as their hands brushed lightly against each other. The Lakota’s eyes traveled to those hands, and back up to the faces. “You two are brothers?”
That question struck Lance and Ricky as very random.
“Well, yeah, I mean Arthur adopted us both. We’re not related by blood or nothing,” Ricky answered, uncertain as to the reason for the inquiry.
Dakota looked over at Kai and studied his silent features a moment, before turning back to Lance and Ricky. “Wínkte,” he said, drawing a puzzled look from both boys.
Kai sucked in a breath of surprise. “Two-Spirit, Cloudy Boy.”
Dakota shrugged, his eyes boring into Lance and Ricky, both of whom were mystified.
“What’s winte, or whatever you said?” Lance asked, noting Kai’s reaction and fearing he already knew the answer.
“It means Two-Spirit in Lakota,” Kai quickly interjected, but Lance waited for the silent Dakota to respond.
“Homo,” Dakota said dispassionately. “It’s Lakota for homo.” His gaze never faltered, as though challenging Lance to deny it.
Lance heard Ricky gasp lightly, but he maintained eye contact with Dakota. “Here in the Round Table, Dakota, we use ‘Sir Homo’.”
Suddenly Ricky stifled a laugh, and even Kai chuckled. But Dakota didn’t even blink, the joke going right over his head.
Lance turned to Kai. “You’re right. He is Cloudy Boy.” Then he looked back at the stiff-postured young Indian, and sighed heavily. “Look, we don’t use words like homo in the Round Table, Dakota. By now I thought everybody knew about Ricky and me. It’s only been, like, top news all over the world.”
Dakota squinted thoughtfully, obviously turning this information over in his mind. Kai cleared his throat, drawing their attention toward him. “Natives don’t use that word either, and he knows it.”
Dakota grunted again. “Course you don’t like it. You’re homo, too.”
For the first time that night, Kai’s face crumpled into shock. “How do you know? I never told you.”
Lance and Ricky exchanged a surprised look at this new revelation.
Dakota almost smirked, but Lance couldn’t honestly tell if his facial expression shifted or not. “I knew you since six. Think I didn’t figure it out?”
Now Kai blushed, even through his dark, sun-drenched skin. “I would’ve told you. I wanted to tell you…’cept you weren’t at, like, any powwows for the last four years.” Then he looked at the carpet beneath his feet.
Dakota flinched ever so slightly, and then regained his aplomb. But he didn’t respond.
“What’s a powwow?” Ricky asked to break the silence.
“Big native gatherings,” Kai replied, pulling his gaze from the floor. “Tribes get together to dance and eat and trade stories. They’re awesome. Hopefully you’ll get to see one if you travel around for your amendments.” His suddenly poignant eyes returned to the brooding Dakota, who still maintained a posture like he thought he might be attacked at any moment. Lance recognized the same warrior mode he’d had out on the streets when at a moment’s notice he might’ve gotten jumped or shot at.
Gazing at the Indians, Lance suddenly felt the weight of an entire history between these two that might make or break their success at New Camelot. Much more was being left unsaid than was being said. His soul-whispering talent, as Ricky had dubbed it, was working overtime.
“So, uh, Kai,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. “What’s this Two-Spirit thing you said?”
Kai pulled his gaze from Dakota’s stoic reticence and said, “It’s kind of a blanket word the Indian tribes came up with for any of us who’re gay or lesbian or trans. Otherwise, every tribe had a different word for it. Like in Diné, my language, it’s nádleehé.”
“But why Two-Spirit? I mean, what’s that about?” Ricky asked.
Kai shrugged. “It’s like we have two spirits in one body, both male and female.”
Lance bristled at that. “We already covered this on the Ellen show.”
Kai and Dakota both looked at them blankly.
“You don’t watch television?” Ricky asked incredulously.
Both shook their heads.
Lance sighed. “Look, there’s nothing girly about me or Ricky, okay? We’re all boy. Nothing female.” He knew he sounded slightly angry, maybe even petulant, but he was tired of all the ‘which one’s the girl?’ stuff on the Internet.
Kai looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, man, that’s not what it means. It just, well, it covers trans people, too. I mean, I’m not feminine, either.”
Dakota snorted and Kai cast a glare in his direction before continuing. “It’s just, well, we’re boys but we fall in love with other boys the way girls fall in love with boys. So, Two-Spirit. See?”
Lance knew there was no derision in the other’s voice and read the sincerity in his eyes, so he calmed down. Ricky’s hand slipping surreptitiously into his helped immeasurably. “Okay, I get it. Better than homo, faggot, and gay, for sure.” He looked at Ricky. “What’s your fool-ass think?”
Ricky grinned. “I think it sounds kinda cool, but I still think we’re only one spirit in two boys. Dumbass.”
Now Lance grinned too. “I guess Two-Spirit is okay within the Round Table, if it has to be brought up at all. But here, none of us are black or brown or native or even male or female. We’re a team. Here we’re just human.”
Kai looked at Dakota. The boy’s squinting eyes widened a notch as comprehension filled them.
Kai seemed to study the other’s high cheekbones and thin lips a moment before asking, “So how come?”
“What?” Dakota said, clearly mystified.
“How come you weren’t at the powwows?” His open face indicated concern, not nosiness.
Dakota shrugged again, a gesture Lance began to understand stood for many emotions within the boy. “Tribal Council banned me from all tribal functions.”
Kai gasped in shock, causing Lance to realize such actions must not be common among Indian tribes.
Dakota crossed the room, slipped off his bag and weapons, and tossed them onto the bed.
Kai’s head turned, his appalled gaze following. “Why?”
/> Dakota turned and faced the other three. Lance sensed a deep sadness, and extreme guilt, living behind those narrow brown eyes.
Without expression, Dakota replied, “Because I tried to kill my brother. For that, I was disavowed by my mother.”
Kai’s mouth fell open like his jaw was broken, but Dakota’s stare and sullen silence sent a clear message: this topic is off-limits.
For Lance, the revelation was shocking, and he squeezed Ricky’s hand tightly. Could this mean the Lakota boy posed a threat to them? Could he be a plant, sent by whoever wanted him dead? But looking deeply into the boy’s sorrowful brown eyes, Lance concluded that his initial soul-whisper had been correct. This boy was sincere. Damaged, but sincere.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, shower’s that way, Dakota, if you want to clean up. We have lots of tunics and pants and boots. If you need some regular clothes, we’re all about the same size so you can borrow from Ricky and me. We’re just across the hall.”
He saw Kai’s eyebrows rise. “In separate rooms,” he added quickly. “C’mon, Kai, let’s get you settled in.”
So they left Dakota standing beside his bed and used the connecting door to enter Kai’s nearly identical room. Only the pattern of the bedcovering differed. Once they’d pointed out the bathroom and closet, Lance and Ricky bade Kai a goodnight and headed for Lance’s room. Lance could feel Kai’s eyes on his back as he and Ricky crossed the hallway and entered the one room, and felt compelled to turn and say, “There’s a connecting door in here, too, from my room to Ricky’s.”
Kai nodded, his expression for once not laughing or open, but almost cloudy. Like Dakota.
Once in Lance’s room, the boys plopped down onto the rumpled, unmade bed and sighed. He wasn’t much for making up his bed every day and the hotel staff had Thanksgiving off.
Ricky blew out a breath. “Well, that was some weird-ass Thanksgiving, huh?”
Lance smiled slightly, and agreed.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Ricky went on.
Lance looked over and smirked. “If you’re thinking you’re a dumbass, then yeah.”
Ricky shoved him. Lance shoved right back.
“Do you think Dakota might be a problem?” Ricky asked.
Lance reflected again on what he’d seen, and felt, in the Indian’s eyes. “No.”
“You sure?” Ricky asked hesitantly. He knew, especially from what had happened with Michael, that Lance’s soul-whispering thing was no fluke. Still… “I mean, he tried to kill his own brother.”
“We don’t know why, Ricky, so let’s not judge him, ’kay?”
Ricky smiled. God, how he loved this boy, especially the way he found something good in everyone. “’Kay.”
They stood and kissed goodnight at the connecting door before both retreated to their individual bathrooms to prepare for bed.
†††
Over the next few days, Lance and Ricky took the Indians under their wings to acclimate them to their new home, and began instruction in the ways of knighthood. Lance was shocked, and dismayed, to learn that Dakota was his equal with the bow and arrow. Even Reyna was stunned when she witnessed their initial competition. Both boys could not only hit a bull’s-eye dead center every time, but could split each other’s arrow as it stuck out of the target. Lance would fire and split Dakota’s arrow. Dakota would haughtily step forward and split Lance’s. This went on and on, with a tense Ricky, Reyna, Esteban, Kai, and Chris all in breathless suspense.
Knowing he shouldn’t, Lance felt his pride rankle at this usurper, and didn’t want to stop until the other boy missed a shot. After a half hour, his shoulders and arms throbbed, while Dakota appeared unruffled by fatigue. Finally, Reyna stepped in and clapped, drawing nervous applause from the others.
“We’ll call this a draw, guys,” she announced with a big manufactured grin. In truth, she hated anybody showing up her baby boy. “Amazing shooting. Even better than me.”
Lance looked at Dakota, and Dakota met his gaze. Yes, there was a haughtiness in those eyes that irked Lance, but there was also admiration. Obviously, Dakota had never met his equal, either. Lance extended a hand and grinned. “Glad you’re on my team, man.”
Dakota shook it. Lance noted the firm grip, but there was a slight tremor too. He saw something familiar in the boy’s eyes, something he used to see in his own this past year when stress or deep sadness would claw at his soul, but he couldn’t pull the memory from his subconscious. Then they released hands, and the moment vanished.
Kai was adept with the bow and arrow, but nowhere near as impressive as Dakota. However, his drawing skills were astonishing. Just with a pencil and paper, he could create a lifelike image of anyone in short order. Lance suggested he do a wedding portrait of Arthur and Jenny, and they could post it up on the website, and Kai readily agreed.
Sword and shield training was foreign to both boys, though they had battled each other as children with long wooden poles. Dakota, ever in warrior mode, it seemed, took to the hand-to-hand combat with gusto. Kai, not so much. Dakota was the more athletic and muscular of the two, Lance had noted while sizing them both up, but Kai was fleet of foot and had a keen eye for details.
The new boys also settled into the daily routine of school every morning. The mixture of ages within the same classroom echoed their own reservation school experience, except they were encouraged to speak more here than they had been back home.
Over that next week, Lance and Ricky studied both letters sent by the two Tribal Councils. They’d conferred with Sam and Jenny about how changes might be made to the CBOR to include Native children, and then led Dakota and Kai to the Computer Lab on the second Saturday after Thanksgiving to do some revisions. There had been no gathering on Thanksgiving weekend, so at today’s meeting both newcomers would be formally introduced, and their requests brought before the entire Round Table.
The Indians stopped and stared in awe upon entering the Computer Lab, causing Lance and Ricky to chuckle.
“I’ve never seen this many computers in my life,” Kai exclaimed breathlessly, turning to Dakota. “Have you, Cloudy Boy?”
The other shook his head, his eyes sweeping the room with suspicion.
Lance and Ricky herded them forward and introduced them to Techie, who shook their hands before returning his gaze to the monitor before him.
Lance grinned at the boys. “Techie’s our own Steve Jobs. New Camelot would crumble without him.”
Techie grinned from beneath his big glasses. “You know it,” he said with a laugh. Then he glanced up at Ricky uncertainly.
Ricky smiled, understanding at once. “All’s good with Ariel?” he asked.
Now Techie grinned. He nodded and swung his gaze back to the computer screen.
Lance and Ricky led the boys to some empty computer stations nearby, sitting each of them down before his own machine. Kai logged into his email account for messages, explaining to the boys that there was no Internet access on his reservation except at the high school. Dakota merely stared at his screen like it might bite him.
Both boys had taken to wearing some of Lance and Ricky’s shirts. As Lance sported a bit more muscle than Ricky, his shirts fit Dakota better, while Ricky’s seemed perfect for Kai. Same with their jeans. In addition, both newcomers had chosen tunics and leather pants and boots to be worn for gatherings and other official functions.
Lance eyed Dakota curiously. The boy obviously had no idea what to do and it clearly made him uncomfortable. “I’ll help Dakota and you help Kai?” he suggested.
Ricky smiled and stepped over to the terminal beside Kai while Lance settled in beside Dakota a short distance away.
Dakota sat rigidly upright in the high-backed chair, hands on his lap, eyes fixed uncertainly on the screen before him. Lance dropped his gaze to the hands and noticed a slight trembling of the fingers. “So, I guess you haven’t used computers much?”
The boy shook his head, but refused to look over.
�
��Don’t worry,” Lance said reassuringly, “I hardly ever used one till I moved in here, either.” He reached for the mouse as Dakota eyed him warily. Lance pulled up the New Camelot website and demonstrated the tabs and drop down menus, especially the section devoted to the Code of Chivalry and requirements for knighthood. “That’s the part you need to study to become a knight,” he told the silent boy, whose wide eyes absorbed everything Lance was doing.
He let Dakota take over the mouse and practice navigating his way through the website, including the photo section.
As he was scrolling through pictures, Lance asked, “Did you hear anything about our crusade on the reservation?”
Dakota’s fascinated gaze never left the screen. He appeared mesmerized. “Yes. It was in the reservation newspaper. I read every story three times.”
That response surprised Lance. There must not be much to do out there, he thought. “Did you, uh, read about my, uh, embarrassing stuff too?”
Now Dakota looked over and met his eyes. “Yes.”
“And you still came here to be one of us?” Lance asked, startled. “Knowing I’m second in command after my father?”
Dakota nodded. “I understand better now after meeting you. Natives can’t handle alcohol.”
Lance was confused for a moment, but then glanced down at the slightly trembling fingers lightly resting on the mouse. Then he realized what he’d seen in the boy’s eyes. “When did you start drinking?”
“When I was ten,” Dakota answered matter-of-factly. “Alcohol is banned on the rez, but white people sell it to us anyway.”
Lance gasped. Ten? “I’m sorry, man.”
Dakota asked quietly, “Why did you start, Lance of the Round Table?”
Lance burned with shame, knowing it made him look weak to the tough, warrior mentality of the other, but he couldn’t help himself. “I was trying to fit in at parties. And I had a shitty childhood, always hating on myself.”
Dakota narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.
Lance sighed. “You wanna see me when I’m drunk? I’ll show you.” He took the mouse and minimized the website. Then he opened up a special folder he’d saved. Within were his various speeches, and also his embarrassing videos and pictures.
And The Children Shall Lead Page 13
