by T J Reeder
Will said all this was why he asked for a face-to-face meeting, and while his people were damn good buffalo herders they didn’t fly well. We had all the information for the moment and decided to head back right now; Ralph had some lights set up as runway beacons and a generator to light them up. We made our goodbyes and promised to be back in touch as soon as possible but until we knew better, we would assume somebody was reading our mail (so to speak).
It was strange flying over such empty country seeing very few lights of any kind and those mostly from fires. We had a good tail wind and made it home in good order. The strip was lit up and Ralph got us down in one piece, all the while talking Sandy thru what he was doing.
I guess night landings are different, all I know is a chopper flairs out and you jump into the dark hoping the damn pilot had managed to get within 10 feet of planet earth which they often didn’t. Back in the day, there were just some chopper jockeys we refused to do inserts with (much to the anger of the brass). But it was our ass not theirs, so ‘fuck 'em’ was the rule of the day. When you’re the best and the only ones who can get it done, you have some leeway. We were, we did and we used it. Hitting the ground from twenty feet up with a full combat load is not something you wanna do more than once in the dark. Daylight is bad enough but at least you can see the shattered tree stump that’s waiting to impale your ass.
Anyway, we made it home. We climbed the ridge trail and found Beth and Kid at the top holding the kids. I reached for one but ‘they’ beat me to it. I said out loud that maybe we needed to buy another baby or two. Beth leaned over and said. “I have a better idea” which sent a trickle of ice water shooting down my spine; why, I don’t know but something about it scared the crap out of me. I’d rather try taking a pimped out 1911 from Sandy than think about ‘that’. Sandy and May were both making happy sounds about the idea. Charley didn’t say anything.
Inside we found a good dinner waiting- rabbit stew, Indian fry bread and apple pie! I was in love; Old Woman could live here all she wanted. All of them turned and looked at me. I said, “What?” Charley and I took a seat, and the girls handed off the kids causing JC to throw a fit. He knows when there’s food and apple pie for sure, so they got to set with us which makes dinner both special and ….interesting.
Kid had a nice fire going which felt good. We got our pie and coffee done and moved to the living room area, which is just the other end of the dining room, but it’s nice. After we were settled we told the others about the long day.
Old Woman said she had never heard of a computer program that could translate spoken word. Written? Yes, for sure. I asked what Charley’s, ‘We have other secrets’ comment was all about. He looked at his mother who sat for a minute and finally said, “There is another part of our language that is known only by a few- all healers and teachers of the old ways.” She said it had never been written down or recorded and while it sounded like regular Navajo it was the way a word was used that conveyed an entirely different meaning. That was as close as she could come to an explanation.
She also said this was the first time she had ever spoken of it to anybody who didn’t know it. I was rather impressed; hundreds and hundreds of years it was passed down to only a very few. And nobody else knew. I asked why tell us? She said she could see where it might be the only weapon we had in making sure our messages were secure.
But that it would require first getting together those who spoke it and explaining what was needed and why, and hope they would be willing to help. Most were older traditional people and it would take a lot to swing them all but she was ready to get it done as soon as I let her know. I said, “If not now, when?” She smiled and said, “Of course, John.” She made plans to send out the word to bring together as many of her people she could.
I figured if we had one in each camp (so to speak), we would have it covered, and not all radio traffic would require their use. They were the stopgap last stand ace in the hole. I for one doubted the enemy, whoever they were, would have the ability to understand our communication traffic but we would know pretty fast.
Come morning I called a meeting of anybody and everybody who could make it for the next day at midday. The girls got with all the other ladies and decided on what to feed our guests, which should be every freeloader for fifty miles around. Chow time around here was well known as a great feed. Hell, I’d crawl the fifty miles for a whole pan of brownies; my son would allow me to carry him on my back the same fifty miles for brownies.
And speaking of which, I headed for the communal feed trough to see what was cooking. And there I found my entire family hogging the goodies. Old Woman was visiting with V, her squirrel and her cat, which seemed strange, as are all cats- but hers was really strange. I couldn’t put a finger on it but I swear at times it seemed to just walk out of sight…in plain sight- like a hole opened and it went thru. I really have to stop smoking that stuff, except I haven’t in damn near forty years. Anyway the cat fit right in with V. Nice lady but a bit …different? I mean the squirrel seems normal on her and that’s not normal…fuck it, it is what it is.
Anyway, she and Old Woman seemed to converse without saying a lot until I realized they were talking with their fingers and neither was deaf. This whole place is getting strange. Charley sat down, handed me a beer and said, “John, shut up.” I knew I hadn’t said a word but I took his advice. With that the girls all turned and smiled at me, even my sweet little daughter, the newest witch. JC just kept eating his way thru a big cookie, as oblivious as his old man.
Charley and I wandered off to the range where Kid was burning thru her daily allotment of ammo. Several of the boys were there watching her- I mean watching her, not her shooting, just her. I took a real good look and I swear I was looking at a little bit smaller version of Sandy. Black jeans, black combat boots and a black tee shirt with a very nice gun rig the leather dude had made her. Her little Colt Commander was sporting a very nice set of stag horn grips, and her hair was longer than when she first came to us. She turned around and I felt myself blush.
The shirt was a little too tight and she had that ‘in control’ look Sandy and May both exuded. She had …uh… developed a goodly bit that I hadn’t noticed but the boys sure have! I started to say something, but Charley took my arm and led me over to some folding chairs in the shade and said, “A wise man said it’s best to think and then shut up.” I asked who said that, he said he did.
Right then the girls showed up in force without the kids. All had their pistols and several boxes of ammo. The boys went ‘poof’ like smoke in the wind; it was funny.
Beth had been doing more shooting lately than before and I guess it was because so many hands were there to watch the kids so she could have some fun time. Charley motioned one of the boy who didn’t leave over and said something/ He took off and a few minutes later was back with a bucket full of ice cold beer and ice. I raised a brow over that- Charley seldom drinks, more as setting a standard for the young men of the people, but today he was setting that aside. We couldn’t talk much with the earplugs in so we enjoyed watching the girls going at it.
They were working on a set of Bianchi plates against a timer- six plates, and six rounds. To my great surprise Kid was in second place and pushing hard against Sandy. I could see Sandy was getting a bit flushed. When she got her string done I waved her over and cracked a beer for her. She drank half of it in one go and said, “That damn little shit is kicking my ass!”
Now I know better than to say, “Yeah, I noticed” so I just raised my eyebrows like it was shocking. It didn’t work. She glared at me and called me an asshole but was smiling, and then she said, “She’s a hot little shit, ain’t she?” I started to comment and Charley poked me in the ribs so I said, “Well, she has good examples to look to.” The smile was worth it. Then she said, “Don’t worry, daddy. We girls have been having the mommy-daughter talks.” I think I exhaled for a five full minutes, which got her really laughing. She patted me on the head and said, “Come t
ry your hand against her.”
The last thing I wanted to do was get my ass handed to me by a little girl, (well not so little anymore but I think you get the point). But I did go over, and after a few runs against the timer I shot one for record and it was pretty damn good if I say so. Then Kid shaved a couple of hundredths off my time, the little shit. All the girls gave her a cheer so I grabbed her and hugged her and whispered in her ear that Sandy was sweating it and this was her chance! I set her down and headed for my beer. Finally Sandy and Kid decided to go head to head with three runs and total them for a score.
Sandy was going first and Kid turned around to look at me, so I reached down and got some dirt and rubbed it into my hands and dusted them off and winked. She smiled a million-watt smile and nodded. When it was her turn, she loaded her pistol, then did the dust thing and when the beeper went off she moved like a rattler striking. I blinked and she was done and reloading a new magazine and dusted again. When it was done her total times were half a second faster than Sandy’s causing a big cheer to go up. We hadn’t noticed half the community was watching! Word had spread by the boys and it’s free entertainment, so come one come all!
Kid ran over, leaped into my arms, kissed me and said, “I love you!” I was so proud I thought I’d pop. Sandy grabbed her and was hugging her then Beth and May. She looked at Charley and put out her hand. He took it and pulled her in for a big hug! It was her day! The entire community spent a lot of time congratulating her. I know several thought Sandy had thrown the match but I knew better. Sandy loves Kid but she would never ‘let’ her win; she has to earn it, and she did!
What a finish to a wonderful day and tomorrow we talk of war again; will it never end? Will those control freaks just please die off and leave us in peace? Is that too much to ask? If so, then we will just have to die them off ourselves.
The funny (or not so funny) thing was that we weren’t being approached to attend this meeting and that bothered me, a lot. It was like somebody knew we wouldn’t listen for ten seconds before we said ‘fuck it’ right out loud. We couldn’t slip in with the Northern Cheyenne because we would be the proverbial bit of rice in a bowl of raisins or some such.
When morning came I still didn’t know what we were going to do, but hopefully somebody at the meeting today would have a clue. By noon there looked to be at least two hundred people gathered in the common area. We headed down, the entire family- kids, dogs, wives, guests. After everybody finished greeting Charley and Old Woman she took the kids over to the food tables and joined V who was without her squirrel hat but the phantom cat was walking in and out of sight and I’m the only one who seems to notice this weird shit!
When everybody quieted down I explained what we knew for a fact, what we thought might be going on and then I addressed the issue of us not being invited to the dance and what to do about it. Well, that got folks talking among themselves for a while and slowly they quieted down. I asked if anybody had any ideas.
Everybody looked around but nobody spoke up until I heard one lone voice say, “I have an idea.” Everybody looked around for the speaker, and I moved so she could come forward. Kid, our tactical officer, took the stump so the folks in back could hear her. She looked ready to run until somebody said, “Hey, ain’t this the kid that out -shot Sandy? And that got them all going as the folks who didn’t know were told the story. And then the whole crowd started cheering her and clapping! Sandy went to her and hugged her and put her hand in the air. It was a wonderful moment.
After they quieted down, Kid looked at me and said, “Dad, why do we need to be at this meeting? We have friends who will be there and there’s nothing that says we can’t sort of provide out of sight security for all these folks in case it’s a plot to kill off all the leaders of the settlements which it must be, since they didn’t invite us or the Texas bunch which actually shows some class on their part ‘coz who wants a bunch of Texas Bears in their meeting?”
Now she had them laughing, and Bear was red as a beet. Everybody around him was slapping him on the back but I noticed the younger Bear who came home with us had stars in his eyes; he was in love! With my daughter, who was only a few years younger than him. Kid turned and looked right at him and winked and the boy’s face turned redder than his uncles- poor Bear Jr. I felt so sorry for him; he was out-gunned and never knew he was in a fight.
Back to the meeting, I asked Kid what she had in mind; she had a notebook in hand and took over as the G2 (intelligence) officer she had become. She said, “OK, we can’t send white folks with William and his delegation, but whoever these people are they wouldn’t know a Cheyenne from a Navajo, so we send some of ours with them. We head into the area ahead of the meeting, in small groups, two’s and three’s. No military vehicles, just some good ol' boys out doing good ol’ boy stuff. We send maybe thirty shooters this way. The rest of us move only at night and hole up during the day under camo netting. This group needs to leave ASAP. They need to be in striking distance before the meeting starts. William, I’m sure, can help with finding a good place to set up our laager.”
She said, “That’s all I have, y’all big folk can fill in the blank places.” Well, you could of heard smoke hitting the ground till one of the good ol’ boys spoke up and said, “John, y’all wanna sell her?” That was the big laugh of the day. Even Kid laughed. I hugged her and whispered in her ear that she was awesome and I loved her but if I caught her teasing Bear Jr. more than necessary I’d spank her. She whispered in my ear, “Oh Daddy! Promise? Please daddy! Spank me!” I walked off in defeat, to the laughter of all of my ladies. I hate ‘em all! (“No you don’t!”)
Meeting over for the moment and the feedbags on, there was a keg of ice-cold beer and wine and most anything anybody might want to drink. We had so much food I gave up trying to get some of everything. The feast lasted until late in the afternoon and before people started wandering off I announced we were gonna meet again before dark. I grabbed Kid and Charley and Joe and Willy and headed up the ridge where we worked the kinks out of Kid’s presentation. We ended up with pretty much just what she said. Charley said he had a couple of his younger men who were taller than most Navajo and they would go in with the others. I guess I never noticed the People were a tad bit shorter than most folks because I’m taller than most.
We didn’t know what they were gonna run into, but I was sure they weren’t gonna allow weapons inside. I had an idea about that. It wasn’t much but it beat standing around with their Johnson in their hands. I made a note to contact the fort and put Mr. Whipple on it first thing the next day.
I had to wonder if maybe we were bored and just looking for an excuse to go on a road trip. But I don’t think so because I hate going east and it’s to be avoided if possible. I don’t understand the kind of people who want to box folks in and make them fit into some kind of order that’s against what they want. Control, the big word, the one word that explains most of man’s inability to get along, somebody always thinks they have a right to control others as long as they don’t have to live under the same restrictions. You see it in all governments, all religions- although I never heard of Buddhists trying to conquer the world in his name, but there again, I never knew if Buddhism was/is a religion or just a good way to live. Just one more of the billions of things I know squat about. I could ask Kid, she knows- I’d bet my next brownie on that.
It was decided that we would send somebody in person to Texas to talk to their air force folks about the drone thing; hell if we were worried about one being used against us we could maybe worry them back. My personal desire was that all the drones and such spy crap be gone forever- in fact we were as ‘powered up’ as I wanted us to be. Sure, a few planes flying is great, radios that work are fine, even electric lighting is wonderful but somewhere in there is a good place to stop. With any more comes more control from those who want control. Fear them for they bring nothing good.
I know there are people who will never understand our way of life here in our ca
nyon and not understanding it makes them want to change it…‘For the children, of course’. None of our kids were on some mind altering drug. In fact I would expect no kid anywhere was on that shit anymore and if so then I hope they are far away from us; like another planet. I digress.
We had a lot to do and little time to do it. The big meeting was only a couple weeks away, so I sent Harry and Bear with Ralph to see what they could find out. At this point I didn’t want to ask out loud about drones- why tip off our enemies? Charley had sent his men with the Cheyenne to attend the meeting. I had heard back from Mr. Whipple and a courier had shown up with my package.
It might sound silly but I knew these folks holding the meeting weren’t gonna allow any weapons inside, and I remembered something I had seen at the fort amid all the mountains of stuff they had salvaged. Back in the day when gun shows were everywhere you could find all kinds of weapons made from some form of plastic. What I had seen was knives that were made for stabbing since they weren’t sharp enough to cut very well.
They had all kinds of names but the one most often used was ‘CIA Letter Opener’. They look hokey but they will damn sure drop you if you’re stuck with one. I figured everybody going into that meeting could hide one someplace on their person and at least have a chance, if it came to that. There were even some that were actual hair brushes that when the handle was pulled from the brush it was a stabbing blade of the same material. Paranoid? Bet yer ass I am, and I intend to stay that way. These went with Charley’s people, with plenty to spread to everybody who was going.
