Thursday, May 14, 2015

Clay-less Fun

Chapter 7: Post 1
“I’m fine but not coming now,” said my wife. “I got called back to work to fill in for someone who was in a minor car accident. They’ll be in the hospital for several days. Sorry dear.”

My heart sunk a little. I was counting on a nice distraction and excuse to pull away a little.

“Tough break hon. I’ll be fine,” I said with half a lie. “Be safe heading home in the holiday traffic. I better let you go. Thanks for the head’s up. Text me when you arrive. Love you, bye.”

“Will do. Tell His Favorite Gal and Clay hi for me. Ba-Bye now, love you too.”

Hanging up the phone, I said to Gal, “that was…”

“Wasn’t Clay,” said Gal cutting me off, “and all I need to know. Let’s go Pow-Wow, Ain’t It.”

“Aah…okay Gal,” I said with hesitancy. “Oh and my wife says…”

“Yah, yah, come on man,” said Gal jumping in again. “Move your ass before Clay or someone worse calls.”

Gal and I left a note for Clay on the table and hustled toward the drumming and singing. It welcomed everyone for grand entry. Sitting on bleachers designated for elders, we watched the dancers and commented on their wonderfully crafted regalia. It was getting downright hot for May 30th so I went for a couple cans of pop. Upon returning, Gal led me away to a new spot.

“Follow me. I need some shade,” she said.

Gal took us to the same big cedar I’d been at a few times already and it made me wonder. We sat on the ground in the shade and sipped our drinks. Gal was uncharacteristically quiet and as yet, hadn’t had a smoke. I broke the silence.

“Wow Gal, not one cigarette so far. You run out? Need money for some more?”

“Nope, I’m done with those things. It’s time, what with him and his issues. Gosh Ain’t It, you make it sound like I was one of them rope smokers.”

“You mean chain, chain smoker, Gal.”

“Migizi, you say it your way and I’ll say it mine. They mean the same thing ya know.”

The announcer fired up the mic as a joke and his side-kick for the day, Milford Loon Feather, could be heard chastising his counterpart. 

“You sick and nasty Rez dog. Loaded up on Auntie Hawk Legs tacos." Milford fanned the stench away. “Man you could have spared the beans once or twice. I can’t breathe in here dude.”

“And there you have it folks,” said the announcer laughingly. “The best frybread on the Rez. Now get on over to her food wagon while you can. Tomorrow she’ll be cuttin’ her flour with chalk dust from the ball field.”

Auntie flipped the announcer off from her wagon’s window and Milford took the microphone to do what he was known for.

“Alrighty Nishnobs, time to snake dance. Come on head man and lady dancers, lead the snake. You elders get in there behind them for support. Hey, here’s a twist. I want a young one to link with an elder. Make it happen people. Let’s get rrready toooo Pow-Wow!”

I grabbed Gals hand and dragged her to the dance arena. She grumbled and smiled at the same time. Once there, a young boy took Gal and linked arms while the same girl that Clay danced for chose me.

“Line ‘em up folks. We want this snake to be huge,” said Milford from the announcer booth.

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