Rise of the Death Walkers (The Circle of Heritage Saga)

by Lawrence Nason Jr.

  Chapter 2 - Changes

  Several weeks later after we moved to the farm, I was arguing with my mother about the plans she had for me. Since the day I flipped and broke Roger’s face, he’d been terrified of me. He’d not laid a hand on any of my family. My mother wanted to send me to live with my grandfather on the reservation. I didn’t want to leave her alone in the house with Roger. I feared that he would retaliate after what I’d done to him. It was funny to watch him almost tiptoe around me when he entered a room.

  “Mom, why are you trying to send me to my grandfather all the time?”

  She cleared her throat and said softly, “I promised my father when you were born that, when the time came I’d send you to him so you could learn about your heritage.”

  I snorted at her. “I doubt anyone on the reservation wants some half-breed mongrel underfoot.”

  I was startled when she backhanded me as I said that, “You’re NOT a half-breed mongrel. Yes I married your father against the wishes of my father but you have as much right to be on that reservation as any of the young Indians. You’re in fact a direct descendant of the last tribal chief. That much is in your blood. Even if it’s tainted by a white man’s blood.”

  I rubbed my cheek and stared back at her, “Our family has not been elected to the position of chief for two generations now. What chance do you think I’d ever have to gain acceptance in the tribe?”

  “Your grandmother is still the Great-mother of the tribe. Who’s made chief is, by tradition, at her discretion. It’s your blood right is all I can say. Anything further has to come from your grandfather. This election garbage goes against a tradition that existed in our tribe for more than one thousand years.” She smiled softly at me. “You’ll be going to your grandfather next week. You’ll remain there until you finish high school. That’s my final word.”

  Roger had sat through the conversation with a smirk on his face and I turned on him, “Don’t think if I go to my grandfather’s like my mother asks of me, that you can do what you were doing before.” I shook my fist at him. “You lay one hand on her or my brothers and sister and I hear of it. I’ll come back her and gut you like the dog you are.”

  Roger tried to back further away from me. He was unable to go any further because his back was already against the wall.

  My mother pleaded, “Jason, please...”

  I turned back to my mother and softened my tone. “Alright mother if that’s your wish, call Grandpa Sam. Tell him I’ll be ready to go with him.”

  My mother smiled and said softly, “I’ll do that. One thing I insisted on is that you still be allowed to go to Massena Central. You’ll be getting your permit on the reservation as soon as your birthday passes. Your grandfather has already picked a car for you.”

  “But mother I have to be sixteen to get a driver's permit in New York State.” I reminded her.

  “Not on the reservation you don’t. There are certain exceptions that can be granted. Your grandfather has already received sanction from the tribal counsel.” She came to me and put her arms around me. “Now be a good boy. Go to your room and start packing. Your grandfather will be here in an hour.”

  “But mom you said in a week!” I shot a dirty look at her.

  “I told a little white lie. Your grandfather wants the rest of the summer to begin your training.” She smiled sheepishly. Her eyes however told another story. She had a very determined look in them.

  I was muttering dark things on the way up to my room. “Ricky!” I called out to my nine year old brother. “Pack your stuff you’re getting your own room!”

  I heard his wild cowboy yell and smiled.

  My sister Jenna, who was thirteen, frowned as I passed through her room into the back room where I slept. My youngest brother Charles, who was seven, sat on my bed, a dark look on his face. “What are you so down about squirt?”

  “Do you have to leave, Jason?” He looked up at me with puppy dog eyes.

  “Yes I do Charles, but you’ll be ok.” I picked him up from the bed and hugged him. Then I whispered in his ear. “I put a flea in the ear of that dog Roger that I’d still be watching him, so don’t worry about anything. Ok?”

  He nodded silently at me then said softly, “I’ll miss you Jason.” I let him down and he scrambled through Jenna’s bedroom, stopping only to stick his tongue out at her.

  I heard her giggle at him, then heard her soft footfall in my doorway. “Jason?” I heard the soft tone of her voice, which was laced with apprehension. “What’ll I do without you here? He was looking at me that way again.”

  I stiffened as she said this. The last time she had tried to tell me what Roger was doing to her. She had had a hard time trying to describe things. I could only guess what she meant. I walked to my dresser and removed something from it. Turning around I slipped my father's old hunting knife into her hand and whispered in her ear. “If he bothers you, then don’t be afraid to use it, sis.” I bent and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to miss you kiddo. But don’t worry, I just heard that I’ll be getting my permit and a car of my own, so I’ll visit you whenever I can. Do well in school. You know I’ll be watching out for you.”

  She slipped her arms around me and started sobbing softly. “I’m going to miss you so much Jason. You’re the best big brother anyone can have.” After she said that, she slipped back into her bedroom and picked up the book she had been reading.

  I sat down on my bed hard. How I could do this to them. I was leaving them when they needed me the most. The tears started trailing down my cheeks. I heard a gruff sound of a throat being cleared and spotted my Grandpa Sam standing in my door. “Jason,” His voice was as soft yet powerful as I remember from my younger days. “Emotions run strong in our family. Never be afraid to show them.” He put out his arms and I ran into them sobbing. “There, young Pasche.” He used the nick name he had given me when I was little and still bouncing on his knee. “It is your time to return to the tribe. Your family will be safe here. I have no doubt you have seen to this.” I stiffened and wondered how long he had been standing upstairs listening. I looked at him. There was a smile in his eyes. “Old eyes do not miss anything my young Pasche. Come it is time to go home. Your grandmother is waiting for us with dinner and then she will show you to the tribal elders.”

  “Grandma will show me to the elders? How come it’s not you doing this Grandpa?” I asked in astonishment.

  “In our tribe Pasche the Great Mother has been the voice of authority for thousands of years. Even in recent times with these so called elections the Great Mother chose those who would be voted for.” He paused for a moment and lifted my left hand. “There are signs now that we must revert to old ways in order to protect our people.” His thumb rubbed lightly on my birthmark. And I noticed for the first time he had a grouping of two diamonds on his left hand in the same place as mine.

  I rubbed my smaller thumb on his birthmark and asked “What do these mean, Grandfather?”

  “You will find out when you are ready, Pasche. First we need to say goodbye to your mother and,” his voice grew rough, “the pale face she chooses to be with.” I followed him down stairs with one bag in my hand. When we got downstairs he said gruffly to Roger. “Paleface, get the boys bags and put them in the truck….now!” He turned to my mother and said. “Kira, thank you for allowing Pasche to come stay with me. It is important he learn our heritage and his part in it.”

  I saw my mother nod at him and she said. “I made you a promise Father and as Mother taught me, promises are kept.” My grandfather bowed his head and stepped forward to kiss my mother on the top of her head. “Pasche let us go. I want to talk to paleface before we leave.”

  We both went outside. I got into my grandfathers old truck. I watched my grandfather approach Roger and reach out to him. My grandfather was not small by any means. He stood six foot five and was a broad as a bear. I watched fascinated as my grandfather grabbed Roger by the shirt and lifted him up off the ground a full foot before
slamming him against the house. He moved his face close to Roger’s and sneered at him. “We are watching you white man. If my daughter or grandchildren are hurt by you or any of your friends, you will have every member of the six nations after you. There is no place where you could run or hide from us.” He slammed him against the wall again and I grinned as a trail of wet started to show on Roger’s jeans. My grandfather dropped him and turned back to me with a grin on his face. As he got in the truck he said in a low voice to me. “And that, Pasche, is how you scare the piss out of a white weasel.”

  I had a satisfied smile on my face as we turned around and drove out of the long driveway that led from the main highway to the place which had been, for a short time, my new home outside of Massena. As we reached the main road and turned toward the reservation, I realized that my old life was behind me. I knew that I was on the path to my new life and a brighter future. I would be learning more about my heritage and, little did I know, I would learn that my life was pre-planned and that I had a destiny to fulfill.

  Chapter 3 - One with Nature

  September fourth nineteen seventy nine dawned as a perfect late summer day in northern New York. The sun crept into the sky casting beams of light that reflected off the pond behind my grandfather’s house and directly into the small room I had. I could see the glorious sweep of green when I looked out the small window at the end of my room. The forest invited me to come and find all of the secrets that lay buried within. The past couple of weeks had been an intense time for me with my grandfather. I slept with visions of every creature in the forest running through my head. It was, as my grandfather had put it, “time for me to become one with nature.” Looking around the yard that my grandfather had, I had to admit he was not one to encroach on nature very much. The woods came right up to his place. They only left a strip around his house that was wide enough to place a few lawn chairs. It allowed just enough space for a fire pit. My grandmother used it for outdoor cooking during the spring and summer seasons. I had not been aware of just how much I had changed during the summer until a chance meeting with an acquaintance from Junior High. My mind wandered and I thought back to the meeting.

  Diane Kirsty was a very good looking girl who I’d been fond of during the full two years I’d been in the school with her. She had dark brunette hair that she kept impeccably neat. It flowed over her designer shirts with the precision of a Swiss watch. I’d thought she wasn’t even aware that I existed until I had a chance meeting with her in the Ames department store in Massena.

  My grandmother had sent me and my grandfather to shop for some items she needed at the house. Grandfather Sam was off somewhere flirting with one of the sales women in the outdoors department. I’d seen the woman myself and to me, she was nothing special. I think it was due to the fact that she had buck teeth that stuck out so far she could have probably eaten watermelon through a picket fence without a problem.

  I was looking on the shelves pricing things when out of nowhere this musical voice distracted my attention.

  “Hello Jason.”

  I turned my head toward her and was surprised I had to look down at her.

  She trailed her fingers down the skin of my arm in a very distracting manner. “You’ve certainly developed during the summer.”

  I was surprised she even knew my name.

  “Hello Diane, how are you doing today?” It was inevitable, given the fact my voice was in the process of changing, that I squeaked like a mouse when I spoke to her.

  I was distracted by what she was doing to my arm.

  “I‘ve been under the impression I wasn’t good enough for you to talk to me.”

  She laughed when I said this. Her voice sounded like swinging chimes in a gentle wind. “I couldn’t talk to you at school because that wouldn’t have been proper.” She continued to move her hands in a very distracting way. I had turned toward her when she had first spoken to me. Now she let her finger trail up and down on the front of my t-shirt.

  I looked at her and could see that her face had lost some of the childhood plump that had been such an endearing feature on her during Junior High. She was developing into someone who would surely break a number of hearts in high school.

  “It’d not have been proper for…” I gently prodded her so she would continue. I moved my face closer to hers and gently exhaled.

  Her eyes went wide as her brain attempted to unscramble what she was going to say next. She moved her face closer to mine and after a bit of a time remembered what she’d been talking about.

  ”You know. Some one of my social status has an image to think of. I can’t be seen publicly with someone of your social status. It’s nothing personal you know.” She paused and pursed her lips. Lord! You’ve grown more than any of the other boys in our class.”

  Fury built in my eyes. She stepped back rapidly as she saw it. I stepped away from her and said sarcastically.

  “Well in case you are not aware you are in public right now! You’d better just go back to your friends! I can see them at the end of the aisle waiting for you.” I turned away from her and trembled in ire.

  I saw her out of the corner of my eye as she bit her lip, then looked at her friends after I said this to her. There was a distinct sadness in her voice as she said softly to me.

  “I’m so sorry Jason.” she had said this in a voice that was so low and full of emotion that I knew it wouldn’t have carried any further than my ears. She turned and sauntered away from me toward her friends.

  I took some time to calm down. I cursed the injustice of a system that allowed such clear class distinctions to develop between people. Was it my fault my parents had been on welfare for my whole entire life? Was it my fault my father had not had to guts to continue his education, to learn something worthwhile in order to support his family? Was it my fault that in the end he was not enough of a man to stay with his wife and children to provide for them?

  My grandmother’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

  “Pasche, you need to come down for breakfast. Your grandfather will be driving you to school soon.”

  I groaned as she said this. It would be two more weeks before I turned fifteen and would be able to drive myself to school. My grandfather hadn’t told me which vehicle he was going to get for me, but my permit was in my wallet, freshly creased with the stamp of the tribal council. My grandfather had convinced them to give it to me and date it for the day of my birthday. During the past two weeks my Grandpa Sam had given me lessons on the back road of the reservation with his old 42 dodge truck. It was a standard and I had a hard time hitting the proper gears, but I could move it forward now and I’m sure with time I’d be driving like anyone else on the roads.

  I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and called downstairs.

  “I’m on my way down Mimi.”

  That was the name I had called my grandmother my entire life. My mother had told me that when I was younger and beginning to speak, she had tried to get me to say Grandmother Amanda but all I would say was ‘My Mi Mi’. Since that day, I have called her Mimi.

  I went downstairs. I had to admit I’d taken a step up in life. My grandfather's house wasn’t high class but it was obvious enough he held a respectable status on the reservation. It sure beat the cockroaches and slat walls I use to look at every day. It beat the walls where I had to stuff old clothing into the open spaces to keep the snow from drifting in.

  I sat down at the table and looked around. “Where’s Grandpa Sam?”

  My grandmother was a small plump woman who stood less than five foot tall. She had a twinkle that was perpetually in her eyes when she talked and a high tenor voice that carried quite far into the woods. She also had that no nonsense attitude that had kept my grandfather on his toes for the last fifty years.

  “He went down to the Grey’s to see how your birthday present is coming along.” She snagged my arm as I darted toward the door. I looked at her and she shook her head.

  “I promised Sam
to keep you here Pasche.”

  I groaned and sat back down on the chair hard. “Mimi it’s only two weeks till my birthday. Why can’t I see it now?”

  I heard her chuckle as she placed my eggs and bacon on the table in front of me. “Then it would not be a birthday present, would it?” She turned back to the old cook stove and grabbed a pot of coffee from it. She saw me frown and reached over to tweak my cheek.

  “You realize that in the old days on a boys fifteenth birthday they would wander far up the face of Whiteface Mountain to spend the days before their birthday contemplating and getting in touch with nature.”

  I started eating my breakfast. “I know Mimi I’ve been doing a lot of that lately with Grandpa Sam.” The food my grandmother made each day was better than I was used to. I am not putting my mother’s cooking down. She did what she could with what Roger allowed her to get for food. Here at my grandparents, food was in abundance. I knew I would never see another macaroni soup. This was the favorite dish Roger had my mother prepare for us while he would have pork chops and mashed potatoes. Usually the kids would end up fighting about who would get the last piece of macaroni in the pot.

  She reached over and ruffled up my hair.

  I tried to duck away from her hand and exclaimed. “Mimi your messing up my hair!”

  She smiled at me when I said this.

  “And Sam says you are a natural at it grandson.” She looked over at the door as it swung open and frowned at the red face my grandfather was sporting.

  ”You have been running again you old fool! When are you going to start taking the truck like any sensible Indian your age?” She grabbed up a wooden spoon and waved it in a threatening motion.

  My grandfather grinned at her and said. “The spirits provided me with two feet, woman, long before we had four on the floor and metal held together with duct tape and barbed wire.”