TRAVELER
Chapter 181

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing tfe TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in thfull version Send an e-mail for it .
    RD was more than glad to spend the time with me, I promised him some father son time, just the two of us. We had snuck away from the family as they worked the fire lines in southern California. With the depressed housing market the home that he had shared with his mother, Syl, was not selling. I had a realtor try to lease the home out, but at the time of the weddings it was sitting vacant.
    RD had keys to the house on his key ring that he carries with him at all times. He opened the door with a tear in his eye as I realized that this was the first time that he had returned to the house since he and his mother had moved to Tucson. I let RD enter first, but he took me by the hand and led me inside where he stopped and leaned back against me. I felt his body shake as I wrapped my arms around my son and remained quiet, I let him have his moment to compose himself.
    We heard scuffling outside and I turned to look back at the door where a boy of about thirteen sat on his bicycle staring at us. "Oh wow!" was all he said as he turned on his bike and rode off.
    RD turned to look after the boy and only shrugged his shoulders, "That's Crusty's kid brother, Squirt." As if that made any sense to me, but I let it go and awaited RD's next move. Slowly he moved through the house as his memories of happier times there filled his mind. From time to time he would stop and I watched as his broad shoulders shook with emotion, I left him alone and didn't touch him.
    We moved into the hallway before he turned to look at me. We stood before a closed door and paused for a few moments then RD looked into my eyes with huge tears streaming down his young face. He reached out and took my hand with his right hand and opened the door with his left. As the door opened he moved against me and I felt his body shudder. I embraced him as he moved against me and held on tightly.
    From the looks of the room it had been his mother's room. I could see the impression of a large bed frame set between two large windows. The carpet was pressed down where a large dresser had sat before. In my mind I pictured the furniture in Ugitsiha's bedroom and recognized the footprint as being the same.
    RD did not move about the room, he stood transfixed inside the doorway and let his eyes scan the room. In a few moments he turned and left the room, still clutched to my side. Next he moved to the far end of the hallway and opened a door to a room that, even though empty, seemed cluttered. There were scraps of paper strewn about and the carpet showed impressions of several pieces of furniture.
    RD became animated as he picked up the scraps of paper and checked them out before dropping them back to the floor and retrieving another. I was playing like an amateur sleuth as I checked the carpet impressions out. They were not all made by furniture. There were the marks of a twin sized bed and a small night stand. A chest of drawers had once stood next to the closet door, but the other impressions were best revealed by their smell. Even after the amount of elapsed time the distinctive odor of a mound of dirty boy clothes was prevalent in the room and upon close inspection of the depressed carpet I knew where RD tossed his discards. In my mind I imagined the scene that must have taken place between mother and son over the need to sort the laundry.
    I never knew the domesticated Sylvia so I can only imagine what sort of a mother she was. If one can judge the parent by the child then Syl must have been a terrific mother to have reared such a terrific boy. I don't say that because RD is my son, he is a remarkable young man that exudes a proper upbringing.
    "RD! Where are you, man?" The deep voice of a mature teenage boy rang through the house. Suddenly a perfect specimen of a California beach boy appeared in the doorway to RD's room. Behind him was a smaller copy, just waiting for puberty to complete its work in his young body.
    "See, I told ya it was RD. See, he really is here." The youngster was speaking a mile a minute. RD and the older boy bumped fists in an elaborate ritual that told of a long history between the two. They backed off and stared at one another then RD moved forward and embraced the boy in a tight hug and ran his hands over the boy's back. The boy returned the embrace as I watched two old friends reunite after a long absence.
    "I knew ya was fag for each other," the younger boy giggled. RD grabbed him up and kissed him on the lips, which caused the expected response. "Ewww, ya fag. Wot ya kissing on me for, you want my booty?" The boy waved his butt at RD who promptly grabbed it and gave it a squeeze.
    "He looks like you did when you were thirteen, just as cute," RD said. "Dad, this is Crusty and that is squirt. I'll bet you can really squirt now, half pint.
    "We call him half pint 'cause he can pee a half a pint every hour. The kid's full of piss."

    Of course no teenager is going to stand around and let himself we talked about in a negative way to the boys engaged in a friendly banter between themselves. I stepped out to see how the outside of the house had endured the time of vacancy. I was a little put off by the real estate company that had been engaged to lease the house, they had never had anyone in to clean the house or take care of the yards. The backyard was especially in need of maintenance, but the whole yard needed trimming. I called the local FI office and asked for a crew to clean the house, at once. A decision that I was happy that I made before another hour passed.

    Across the street a man and woman were loading a rental truck with all of their household belongings. The couple would look at me each time they brought furniture out to the truck and before returning to the inside of the house. At last the woman started across the street toward me as the man went back inside.
    At that same moment the three boys appeared from inside of RD's house. "Dad, Mr. Sloan has lost his job and they have lost their house. They have to move dad."
    I was receiving that news as the woman entered the yard. Crusty called to her that they were on their way, they just wanted to say goodbye to RD. Upon seeing RD the woman came on to the front of the house and RD rushed into her arms. The pair embraced and RD started to pump her for information.
    We learned that Mr. Sloan had lost his job due to cutbacks some four months earlier. With little in the way of savings in the bank the family made do with what they had, the mortgage was the loser. The bank had been unrelenting in their foreclosure actions, the house was mortgaged for much more than it was worth. The Sloans had refinanced their home with a seven year balloon mortgage, and the large payment was now due. They had taken out the large second mortgage to help consolidate their other mounting debts.
If a buyer obtains a seven-year balloon mortgage to purchase a home, he has seven years of equal monthly payments at a fixed interest rate. This rate is often lower than what the buyer would otherwise be able to secure under a traditional mortgage loan. At the end of the seven years, the balloon payment of the remainder of the balance of the loan is due, and the borrower must either pay it in full, refinance with the same or a different lender, or sell the home.
    RD's eyes looked like he had a massive tick going on as he communicated his desire to me. I was ahead of him, but it is his house and his decision to make. I smiled and nodded to my first son, which brought on a mile wide smile of bright pearly whites. Without a word being spoken RD escorted Mrs. Sloan back across the street as the boys followed. I called the FI office back and asked about a cleaning crew. The landscaper was on his way and the cleaning crew for the inside would be on site in an hour.
    "I have a problem, Mr. Sloan. My dad contracted a realtor to lease my house out, but it is still sitting vacant and it hasn't even been cleaned since mom and I moved out.
    "Oh yeah, this is my dad. My real dad. I met him before mom died and I live with him now and he is the greatest guy in the world. So you are moving so I was wondering if you would move into my house and take care of it for me. No rent for now, of course."
    RD is not usually tongue tied, I chalked it up to having grown up around the Sloan family and his not used to talking to them about adult matters. The two elder Sloans stood with their mouths hanging open as their eyes moved from RD to me and back again.
    As the impact of the offer set in the emotions broke free then we were able to get down to the particulars. I let RD handle the details as I did some phone work. I learned that the Sloans were buried in their home and it would not be prudent for them to try to work any sort of a plan to stay in the house. The mortgage had been made when real estate prices were at an all time high, but with the current downturn in housing prices the mortgage far exceeded the value of the home. The house was so encumbered that it was not worth my trying to pick up the pieces. However, I decided that I would watch the property because the banks would have a hard time disposing of it and I might buy it up at a large discount a few months later.
    A courier delivered a packet of papers, which included a lease agreement. RD involved me to fill in the blanks as he dictated his terms to be set down in writing. RD was leasing his house for eighteen months at the rate of one dollar per month. The rent was to be paid on, or before, the first working day of each month and was to be paid by personal check mailed to RD in Tucson.
    The utilities were on in the house and they were to be transferred out of RD's name within sixty days. RD demanded that the house be maintained and the yard be kept up at the same standard that the Sloans had maintained their yard in the house they were vacating. Any capital improvements were to be agreed on in writing, before they were made. All in all I was proud of the way RD conducted himself as I beamed like the proud papa that I am.

    I reminded RD of our obligation to the rest of the family and we bid farewell to the Sloan family with the promise to visit them before the end of the summer. Across the street at RD's house a crew of workers was buzzing like bees. The landscapers had a crew in the back yard and one in the front and side yards as they trimmed and clipped the grounds into shape. RD and I stepped inside to see that the work was progressing as we expected then we climbed into my armored Escalade for a trip that I had planned as a surprise for my son.
    A half a mile above the house that RD had grown up in is a small city reservoir with a fifty foot wooden pier reaching out into the clear blue water. RD scooted close to me and wrapped his arms around my right arm as he realized where we were headed. I drove up to a large chain link fence that had been hastily set up on a temporary basis. The gate had a heavy duty chain with a large padlock holding the two halves together. I parked the Escalade and stepped out to unlock the gate.
    RD walked up to me as I let the chain and padlock fall to the ground. There were large tears streaming down his face as he looked down the length of the pier. Our focus was broken by the sound of a vehicle skidding on the gravel covered dirt surface. We turned to see an FIS vehicle settling in a cloud of dust and a tall, skinny, rent-a-cop stumbling over his long legs as he ran toward us.
    "Freeze where you stand. You are both under arrest for trespassing. Can't you see the signs that say that this is private property? Why did you cut that lock off of the gate? You are both going to jail. Turn around and put your hands behind your back."
    I complied, just to see how far the boy would go. But first I had alerted Andy to monitor the situation. He was laughing in my ear and I had a hard time maintaining a straight face as I let the doofus handcuff me. RD started to defend our actions and I had to deliberately step on his foot to get his attention to remain silent. The youngster called the police first then his dispatcher, a violation of procedure. The dispatcher told him that a supervisor would be on the scene in five minutes.
    A gang of youngsters on bicycles had pulled up alongside the road to watch the happenings. Some of the older boys recognized RD and they began to jeer and shout insults. They accused RD of finding an old queer and seeking a place to suck my dick. That set the rest of the boys off and their shouted insults grew louder and more raucous.
    RD was staring at me as I tried to avoid laughing at Andy who was calling me a pervert that was taking a child out on the lake to have my way with him. He was saying that I was a bad influence by breaking and entering and trespassing to boot. He said a few things that were a bit off color, but I won't bore you with the details of that at this time. He was having fun so I knew that he was having a hard day and needed the relief.
    An eternity of five or six minutes passed before another FIS vehicle approached and a young Sargent that I knew stepped out to join us. I gave him the 'keep quiet' signal and let him listen to the younger officer explain the situation. A city police unit pulled up with two officers in it and they joined the two FIS agents as the senior officer smiled at me.
    I decided to play my hand, "One more sick crack like that and I am going to cut your dick off and feed it to you."
    Andy laughed at me. "All of the planes are in service so you don't have any way of getting to me, old man."
    "I can charter a plane and be there in minutes, youngster."
    "What will get you here in minutes?"
    "An F-16 might do." The younger FIS agent was pointing out that I was out of my mind as I was talking to no one. He could see that I did not have a wireless cell phone unit in my ear so he knew that I was just plain crazy.
    "Uncuff them!" The kid looked like the Sargent had hit him. He argued and pointed out the fact that I was deranged, a law breaker, and if the boys on the bikes were correct, a molester out to molest a young boy. "Uncuff our boss, now!" That did cause a look of fear to cross the youngster's face.
    Another FIS vehicle pulled up and a captain stepped out with another agent. The captain walked up to me and shook my hand. "Mr. Foss has the whole office listening in. I had heard that the two of you were crazy, but it took Summers here to prove it." Doofus went red in the face.
    I pointed to my lapel pin and told Summers that it was a wireless microphone then I turned to show him the sound bud glued to my head, behind my ear. I pointed out the fact that the lock and chain were not cut and that I had the key to the padlock in my hand when he drove up.
    I felt that RD needed to know what was going on so I filled everybody in on the fact that I had purchased all of the land around the end of the lake and fenced it in. Not to build condominiums, as some had speculated, but to preserve the area for my son and his memories of his mother.
    RD told everyone that it was on that wooden pier that his mother had told him that she was dying of cancer and it was a favorite spot of his. Even the boys on the bikes grew quiet at the news.
    "Do you want us to arrest Summers for false imprisonment?" The senior police officer was grinning at me. "He is a joke to the force. It is about time that someone took him down a notch." That did not set well with me. Foss International has a name and a reputation to maintain and if one of our people is looked on by the local police as a joke then that is reflection on the entire company.
    I mumbled into my lapel mic and the Captain and the Sargent both smiled at me, Andy should have turned my signal off before then. The dispatcher came back with the perfect solution to the situation.
    "Mr. Summers, you are young and green. You talk a lot of shit, and from what I am hearing here this is not a one time thing with you. I am going to reassign you. Your shift just began an hour ago, but you are free to go home and rest up for your new assignment.
    "You want to talk shit, you can talk to shit. Beginning tonight you may walk between tanks five through nine at the city sewage treatment plant. You will be left alone to talk all you want from ten o'clock until six o'clock in the morning. No one will bother you and you will provide a much needed service to the community by keeping the solid wastes of the sewage plant under guard so that no one tries to make off with it.
    "I have business to attend to in Europe for the next few weeks and I have to go to Russia before the end of the summer. I believe that will give you enough time to get yourself together. I will fly out here to talk to you in person before the end of August. At that time we will see if there may be a place in Foss International Security for you.
    "Before you puff yourself up and make some sort of rash statement I want you to remember what you told us in your interview before you were hired. I believe that FI is a good place for you to be and I believe that you are a good man to have at FI. Yes, I review all applications and my input is valued by Mr. Foss when a new man is hired. Prove me correct in my assessment of you, sir."
    The boy was humbled as he stood before me. He went through a gauntlet of emotions, but he settled down and stood tall as he accepted his new assignment. I turned to the Captain and shook his hand.
    "I have long wanted to speak with you about Tim Tuttle. You gave up a great man when you let him cross my path. I see a lot of Timmy in young Summers there, you just might loose him to me too."
    The Captain smiled. "I hear that Tim has done quite well."
    "He has. He has been promoted to Major now. He got married last Friday and is off on his honeymoon in England. Andy is making him pay for his trip by doing an inspection of our new head of station-London."
    "Sir, is it true about the old head of station being involved in the boy slavery ring?"
    "I don't know what you have heard so I will tell you that we had a rogue officer that was part of the trafficking of youngsters for the purpose of sexual slavery. We believe that we have identified all of those involved in that terrible business and brought them to a point where they will no longer prey on helpless children."
    "I hope that they rot in prison."
    "There are worse punishments than to place people like that in a prison where the other prisoners know of their crimes."
    "What could be worse than being gang raped everyday?"
    "What if the victim was a happy bottom that enjoyed it rough? Remember that the court system in Europe is a world apart from what we have in this country." That raised some eyebrows and I had said enough.

    RD and I walked out to the end of the pier and sat where he and his mother had sat. He rested his head on my shoulder, the way he had his head on Syl's shoulder in his photograph. We sat with our feet in the cool water until the sun slipped below the level of the hills to our left.
    We put our shoes on a started to walk back to the Caddy. "Dad, if you own this can we have it torn down? I said goodbye today and I don't want to remember this place any longer." I told him that we would tear it down. But I wonder about the mural on the wall of my bedroom, will he want to paint over that as well?

    I was about to send the boys from California to Nice aboard Travelaire Too©. Pete was off to England with FI-2, but I realized that there was not enough seating aboard the Gulfstreams for the number of people that were going to Oklahoma with me.
    This trip was for a month during the summer and of course Onacona, Amadahy, Gynigeyona, and Gigage would want to go home to see their families. Isi would want to go with his dad and where Isi went I was sure that Mike would go. I wasn't sure about Steven, he really has no connections to the tribe, but he is of blood relation. I would have to consider his going along, and if Steven went would Chase want to go also?
    Beulah would go to take care of Sagi and Ugitsiha, so that meant that Ita and Inagei would go along. Quemela would have to go and of course there are the two baby boys. Roddy would be lost without Dane, but who would be there for RD? Well of course he would have Quemela, some of the time. Would that be enough for him?
    I called for Travelaire© to transport my blood family. The 737 can fly in and out of the airport at Tahlequah, where the larger 777 could not. My main worry was being able to depart with both planes from Santa Barbara. The fires in the area were putting a great demand on the airport as supplies and firefighters were being flown in around the clock. Would there be room for my boys to board, would there be airspace for the planes to depart? I worry too much.

    Cory built a love shack in the woods. I had expressed my desire to just get away from everything and take life one day at a time. Life has become very complicated for me as I have tried to conduct the lives of four hundred young men. My core family was fun and I enjoyed having them surround me each day. That pleasure ended with the influx of boys from the state and then the boys that Rick and I brought in from the street.
    Don't misunderstand, I love each and every one of those boys and am more than happy to be able to provide for them. Still I long for the simplicity of my life without having to juggle between the various agencies and entities that require an accounting of the boys' progress.
    As usual, Cory had listened to me. My man knows my heart and he knows what makes it warm. I have a love of fine woods and open spaces. Cory combined those two ingredients into the perfect get away. Set back in the deep woods of his land bequeathed him by Chief Steve is a serene setting of tall trees and running water.
    In a narrows between two low hills a small damn had been erected across a wide area of the creek to create a seven acre lake with a depth of about nine feet, perfect for the small mouth bass and channel catfish that inhabit the cold water creek. A rustic style waterwheel was installed for looks, but it was connected to two twenty five kilowatt water turbine generators that provide more than enough free electricity to the cabin that Cory built along the banks of the lake.
    A grotto in the cliff of the north face of the hill to the north of the lake is home to a hot water spring that puts out two hundred degree water year round. Cory used his engineering skills to tap that spring and pipe the heated water through the cabin, providing domestic hot water and heat for the winter. The original pool for the hot spring was mixed with cold water channeled from the cold creek to create a natural spa set in the woods. Hot water was also piped into the house to two indoor hot tubs for natural mineral water spas.
    As the young chief of the tribe Cory commands the respect of the tribesmen. They were more than happy to seine the river for large fish then move them into the new lake. What a perfect place for an amateur angler that has little patience for choosy fish. I learned to relax and enjoy fishing as our time at the lake stretched on. I had enjoyed fishing as a boy and during the summer of 2005 in New York. I had just forgotten how to relax and enjoy the finer points of life.
    I mentioned that I like fine woods. Cory built a small thirty six hundred square foot cabin of glass and wood. The main body of the house is built of old growth white pine and red cedar. Cedar is an aromatic wood that can be overpowering, but Cory had used it sparingly as accent wood; moldings and door facings.
    The floors were made of solid pecan—a strong and durable wood, that takes a high sheen polish. Pecan is often used as flooring for gymnasiums in the south. The basic structure was of a timber frame construction which allowed for wide open spaces and high ceilings.
    Large windows of triple pane glass, rated at an R-24 value, made the home seem part of the woods from the outside and the inside. The floor plan was of a split level—the three lower bedrooms were set two feet above the main level of the common areas; kitchen, living room, and dining room. Four bedrooms were located in a loft above the three lower bedrooms. Cory knows the value of multiple bathrooms and he had designed a full bath for each bedroom, plus two additional bathrooms opening from the living room/dining room area and one off of the kitchen. There were two bathrooms for the family room and three opening to the outside so that no one had to run through the house to take care of business. Cory doesn't want anyone using his woods and stream as their sewage dump.
    A sweet feature that Cory added just for me is a large deck opening off of the master bedroom and extending out over the lake. I can walk out on the deck and sit in an easy chair as I fish and snooze to my heart's delight.
    Cory did not overlook the needs of his brothers-in-law, and his own son, when Chrisy gets older. Slides and swings have been built in a boy paradise around the lake. Paddle boats and canoes are available and a small power boat is there if needed to tow a stranded boater home.

    I had wanted bonding time with my sons as well as quiet time with my main man. Cory's love shack provided all of that. Roddy feels more at home with me and with the family than he does amongst his tribesman. I can understand his feelings since his elisi died. The boy was very attached to her. He had spent his youth at her side as he mourned the loss of his father.
    Ugitsiha and Sagi wanted to spend time with their friends. Sagi invited the women to stay at her mother's house and of course Beulah was with the girls. Ugitsiha is in the danger area of her pregnancy and Beulah will not leave her side for a single minute. That was a trick during the weddings.
    Our morning of the third day at the hidden cabin in the deep woods was interrupted by a disturbing visit from Amadahy. He brought his son, Tequasi8QRTracy, to meet me. The boy looked at me with a look that seemed to ask that I not let on that I knew him from some of my previous visits. I knew that Chief Steve had called the boy edu`tsi–grandson–when Cory and I were introduced to the gohusdianadadvnis–cousins–on our first visit to the old Chief's home. I have had several occasions to meat the handsome young man since then, but I respected his wish and remained silent.
    I sat back and listened to Amadahy, but all of the time I kept thinking about how he had lied to me. He is Chief Steve's oldest son and his should be the birthright. The chiefs told me at Cory's wedding that Cory was the next in line as blood chief, even if Amadahy had committed murder Tequasi should be the next in line. I sat and learned about tribal law.

    "I was a drunken Indian. I was only sixteen and had no brains at all. Your grandmother and grandfather had come to visit and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of your mother. Magayeti was fourteen and as pretty as the morning sun on dewy fields of wildflowers. She, her cousin Quitisi, and Ahwiagina were the best of friends. I followed them as they walked through the forests together.
    "I have no excuse for my actions and I can only pray that you will look upon me with the kind heart that I know that you have.
    "I came out of the woods, naked. I grabbed your mother and tried to kiss her, Ahwiagina fought with me and I threw her to the ground and raped her. My own little sister. I was so drunk that I had no idea what I was doing. Suddenly someone grabbed me and tried to drag me away and I turned and fought them. I learned later that it was my mother and that I had hurt her, badly.
    "Your grandfather took me to his people, the Anitsata–Choctaw. Chris, you have the kind of love that your grandfather had. I tried to molest his daughter and I raped my sister yet he took me to his family where I lived until I was twenty five years old. My mother died from the beating that I gave her and my father wanted nothing more to do with me. Ahwiagina never spoke to me again.
    "A few years later she married my best friend, Cheasequah (red bird), fgb–Gigage–Red–and on–Onacona's–white owl–brother. Those three boys always stayed with me. They hated what I had done but we had been friends all of our lives and they would not turn their backs on me. I learned from them that friendship can be stronger than blood.
    "My name was ach–Adahy, which means, lives in the woods. My family cast me out and gave me the name of a%ch–Amadahy, a girls name that means forest water. When I was twenty I married a girl from the Anitsata village and several years later we had one child, then my wife died. She left me alone with Tequasi when he was only three years old.
    "I raised him until my father sent word that qW–Gowi had been found. My father asked my son to come and live amongst his people. I was devastated but as an outcast I had no say in the matter.
    "I am the eldest son and the first in the bloodline. Tequasi would be next. Tequasi was born after I was declared a non-person so his birthright does not exist. There was much opposition to Tequasi picking up the mantle dropped by my father and he made his choice. The other tribal leaders made it final when Gowi married Sagi, his bloodline is now the chief. Your sons are also of the bloodline through Ugitsiha but Tequasi is out."
    That hurt me, Tracy is sweet kid. He is rough but he can be trained. I decided that he should join his father and perhaps attend school at BAW. However I had another question or twelve.
    "Quetisi was Quemela's mother's name, isn't Quitisi Mike's mother?"
    "Yes, after the rape and murder she left the village and did not return until you came. She plotted to have you take Mike to your home. She had changed, my friends told me that she was bitter and vindictive. I understand that you had a problem with her and Revers over something that Mike did.
    "Revers was a vile man and very disliked, he fit Quitisi very well. Look I am not here to talk about others in the village. I did wrong and you have a right to know about it. The village will not tell you anything but I want my son to be a part of my life now and that can only happen if you allow it."

Chief Mighty Water Chief Steve Conway
Steve's Son, Cory Sr. Gowi & Sagi Christopher Cory
Awinita

Steve's Son,Amadahy Tequasi

Steve's Daughter, Beulah Pam's mother, Quetisi Quemela
Inagei
Ita
Common Ancestor (↑half brothers↓) Steve's Daughter, Ahwiagina,
Quadini's elisi
Ugitsiha

Gvnigetsuli
Cory Stevens
Cullen James
Mike Stevens Christopher Stevens
Chris's Grandmother, Sarah
Grandfather, Theron
Chris's Mother Magayeti Quis
Woha'li
Chris & Mike's Great Grand Mother 2nd husband, Otis Steven's Grandmother Lola,
Grand Father Lester
Steven's Mother Beatrice Tlvdatsi'
Mike's Grand Mother, Eva Mike's Mother, Quitisi Wahuhi

    "I learned from my grandmother that she knew an old Cheyenne woman that lived in her village that was a seer. Do you know anything about her?" I asked him.
    "You are talking about Abedabun–sight of day, she was as wise as she was old. The villagers went to her for guidance, especially when naming their children. Your great-grandmother, the wife of Christopher Stevens, went to Abedabun after many of the women had talked to her about a vision of a strong one to come. The old woman told her that her daughter's daughter would bear a son that would gather back to the tribe those that were lost. She told them that the son would be called the high-backed wolf, Shoemowetochawcawewahcatowe.
    "The women gathered with her for many days and made a large tapestry that is supposed to detail the life of that son. I never saw that tapestry, it was made before I was born, but both villages believe that it was strong medicine.
    Your grandfather's mother was named Kinta (deer), she was very kind to me. She showed me love, she told me that her daughter's grandson was a strong boy that would grow up and gather me back to my people." There were tears on the rough face of the man that I had known only as a good cook. I don't know how to help him. I have learned not to question, but to do.

    We invited Amadahy to have lunch with us and afterwards he left us to be alone. Tracy stayed with us as he and RD talked quietly together. I took the opportunity to be with Roddy for a few hours.
    Roddy led me on a nature trip like I had never been on. The boy has been raised in the woods and I was the beneficiary of his knowledge. The first statement out of the boy's mouth was for me to don heavy jeans and good boots. He donned a set of buckskins that made him look like the perfect little Indian boy.
    We had not entered the tree line adjacent to the cabin when Roddy began to teach this city slicker about the wiles of the woods. "This is poison ivy, daddy. Do not touch it or you will be sorry." I started to say something about the sap of the plant containing the toxin, but was quickly brought low by a harsh stare from my teacher and guide.
    "Daddy, I am the teacher today. You need to keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut if you wish to learn anything. Properly chastened I followed along as Roddy glided silently through the trees. I am not heavy on eating meat so I was not sure why Roddy had slung his bow and a quiver of arrows across his back. We walked in silence until there was something that Roddy wanted to teach me.
    I learned to identify some twenty varieties of trees and plants. I was taught to read signs of past weather events and how to predict the intensity of the coming winter season by the way the woodland creatures scurried about the forest floor and the size and shape of the leaves on certain types of plants.
    Roddy had given me a leather bag with a strap that allowed it to hang across my body and rest on my left hip. He helped me to pick and choose a wide variety of wild plants. I was surprised when he had me pull a fern from the ground and found that it was really a wild carrot. We found wild onions and a tuberous plant that looked much like a stunted potato. I was leery of the wild mushrooms until I realized that my son knew what he was doing.
    He pointed out several varieties of toadstools and mushrooms and showed me how to determine which were edible and which were poisonous. I will leave the selection to him and just pick what he tells me too, I wondered if there were any of those funny mushrooms that people smoke growing nearby. I decided not to ask him, he might show me.
    We selected a wide variety of wild berries, from strawberries, to raspberries, and blueberries. I was looking forward to a good meal gathered from the woods. That is until Roddy went into stealth mode and signaled me to remain silent and still.
    He removed his bow and slotted an arrow then began to slink through the trees while keeping his eyes fixed on the branches. When Roddy stopped I stopped. I froze in place, not daring to move. Roddy drew back his bow and let an arrow fly into the tree tops and I saw a shadow fall to the ground. He slotted another arrow and sent it flying then he moved across to a nearby tree and retrieved two fat, red squirrels.
    He removed his hunting knife from his belt and made a cut behind the head of each animal, severing the spine to assure that the creature was dead. Roddy took down three more squirrel before we returned to the cabin. He led me down to the water's edge and squatted down with his bag at his feet. He took my bag from me and had me squat down on my haunches beside him as he removed our produce and washed each leaf in the cold running water.
    Once the fruit and vegetables were washed he grinned at me then removed the five squirrels. He expertly severed the head from each animal then slit the belly to disembowel it. He threw the guts into a thicket of brush growing down into the water on the opposite bank as he explained that the fish would have a feast on them.
    We moved up to the cabin and to an outdoor table outside the back door near the kitchen. He placed his kill on the table and, with a precise cut, skinned the five fat carcasses. He neatly stretched the skins on green twigs then hung them on a line to dry in the late afternoon sun.
    Cory stepped out with three steel skewers and helped Roddy to affix the meat on the prongs then he opened the top of the large barbeque pit to reveal a fire bed of glowing coals. A few sticks of wood were added as the meat was hung to slow roast in the smoky fire.
    Roddy and Cory were talking in Tsalagi and Cory rubbed the boy's head as we entered the kitchen. The produce was dumped into the kitchen sink for another wash and the two set about preparing our dinner of fresh woodland fare.
    Roddy tossed the berries and added a sliced and diced apple to the mix then set the desert into the refrigerator to chill until time to eat. Cory sauteed the mushrooms and chopped wild onions in a skillet of butter. I smelled the concoction and realized that there was also wild garlic mixed in with the onions. My mouth began to water.
    In the meantime Roddy had prepared the potatoes and popped them into the microwave. The bean pods that we had gathered were slivered and set in a steamer with acorns and almonds. We had not gathered any nuts and I was told that they weren't in season, but had been gathered and stored for us by the relations.
    RD entered the kitchen looking flushed, but with a smile on his face. I looked at him and he giggled. "Dad, I'm glad to be a part of these Indians. They have some great redskin." That cracked us up. Roddy pulled his leather pants down and told him that there was more of that on the grow. RD grabbed his little brother and kissed him, on the cock.
    "What's for dinner? I worked up an appetite." Cory told him that he was in for a treat that Roddy had gathered in. RD wasn't sure about what kind of a treat it was going to be when Cory told him that he was going to eat a nut eater. Roddy and I got in on the act and kept RD guessing.
    Dane came in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had taken a nap and nobody thought to awaken him. He wanted to know what was funny so we informed him of our dinner plans. Dane told us that he had no problem eating Roddy because he was the best nut eater that he knew. That bit of news started the teasing as Roddy assured us that Dane had good nuts to eat, but he was a pretty good nut eater himself.
    Dane stepped outside with Roddy to check on the roasting squirrels and spotted the drying skins. Dane got excited because Roddy and Quemela had promised him a cap with a tail on it. He also wanted a pair of moccasins made from the leather. Cory looked at me and told me that the squirrel hide was too thin to make good moccasins, but we agreed that it was something between the two boys and we would encourage them.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
PREVIOUS<    HOME    NEXT

50% of all donations go to NIFTY
to support their fine work.