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p19 Here is how it happened to me, how I had my child early in my 16th year. It has often occurred to me that I may be a grandmother at 45. I tried it out in front of the mirror, whispering grandma at myself softly but it was all too unknowable to be effective. But now I am drifting away from it again. His name is Duane, though he was half Sioux and he gave me many versions of his Sioux name depending on how he felt that day. Grandfather’s place, which is the original homestead, is three miles north of the farm…. But this is a little far-fetched since the farm is so far from the state highway, that there are no accidental travelers. All the trees were planted by Great0grandfather to form shelter belts and windbreaks from the violent weather of the plains, and to provide fuel and lumber in an area where it was scarce and expensive. There are irregular rows of bull pine and ponderosa, and the density of the deciduous caragana, buffalo berry, Russian olive, wild cherry juneberry, wild plum, thornapple, and willow. The final inside rows are the larger green ash, white elm, silver maple, black walnut, European larch, hackberry, wild black cherry. About a decade ago Naomi, through the state conservationists, made the area a designated bird sanctuary in order to keep out hunters. Scarcely anyone visits except for a few ornithologists from universities in the spring and fall. Inside the borders of trees are fields, and ponds, a creek, and inside the most central forth, the original farmhouse. Enough! Duane arrived one hot late August afternoon in 1956. I found him walking up the long driveway, his feet shuffling in the soft dust. I rode up behind him and he never turned around. I said, May I help you? but he only said his own and Grandfather’s names. He was about my age I though, fourteen, scarred and windburned in soiled old clothes, carrying his belongings in a knotted burlap potato sack. I could smell him above the lathered horse, and told him he better jump on my horse because Grandpa had a pack of Airedales who wouldn’t take warmly to a stranger. He only shook his head no, so I rode ahead at a gallop to get Grandpa. He was sitting on his porch as usual and at first was puzzled, then intensely excited though noncommittal. He had to wait at the pickup as I patted each of the half-dozen Airedales on the head before they jumped in the back of the truck. If I didn’t pat each one in turn they would become nasty to each other. I loved these uniquely cranky dogs partly for the way they welcomed me, and how wildly excited they became when I went riding and invited them along. I never took them when I rode into coyote country… We found Duane sitting cross-legged in the dust. The dogs set up a fearsome howl but never dared jump out of the truck without Grandpa’s permission. We got out and Grandpa knelt beside Duane who wasn’t moving. They spoke in Sioux, and Grandpa helped Duane to his feet and embraced him tightly. When we got back to the house Grandpa said I should leave, and to tell no one at our place of the visitor. Despite the passage of seven years or so he still partly blamed Naomi (Dalva’s Mom) for letting father go back to war, and they were frequently at odds. I’m sure I loved Duane, at least at the beginning, because he so pointedly ignored me. He came from up near Parmelee on the Rosebud Indian Reservation, and though his looks were predominantly Sioux his eyes were Caucasian, cold and green like green stones in cold flowing water. Technically he was a cowboy—it was all he knew how to do and he did it well, He refused to live in Grandpa’s house but took up residence in a shed that was once a bunkhouse. Two of the Airedales decided to live with him of their own accord. …In contrast to other males Duane hadn’t shown a trace of affection in the year and a half since his arrival. All that we shared was the love of horses but that drew us together sufficiently to give me enough solace to keep going. At one point I had become so depressed I thought or maiming myself, burning my face, or ending my life. Naomi wanted to take me to a psychiatrist in the state capital but I refused. One evening she gave me my first glace of wine and sent Ruth out of the room. I told her much of what was bothering me and she held me and wept with me. She said that what was happening to me was the condition of life, and that I had to behave with pride and honor so that I could respect myself. When I found someone to love who loved me it would all make more sense and become much better. I didn’t tell her I loved Duane because she thought him so rude as to be mentally diseased. … “I’m a little bit Indian and I didn’t fuck those farmers.” “There’s no way you can prove it,” Duane yelled. “Make love to me and then you can tell I’m a virgin.” I began to take off my clothes. “Come ahead you big-mouth coward.” He only glared at me; then his face became knotty with rage. He ran out of the barn and I could hear the pickup starting. When I rode home I couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to die but couldn’t decide how to go about it. I stopped along a big hole in the creek, now covered with ice, that we used for swimming in the summer. I thought of drowning myself but I didn’t want to upset Naomi and Ruth (her sister is Ruth). Also I was suddenly very tired, cold, and hungry. It was still sleeting and I hoped the ice would break the power line so we could light the oil lamps. After dinner we’d play cards on the dining-room table beneath portraits of Great-grandfather, Grandfather, and Father. I would think, Why did he leave us alone to go to Korea? After dinner Grandpa pulled into the yard in his old sedan, which startled us because he always drove the pickup. Naomi and I had to go into town with him because Duane was in jail and they needed my part of the story. In the sheriff’s office I said I had never had anything to do with the bruised and severely battered football players. Grandfather was enraged and the sheriff cowered before him. The parents of the football players were frightened, perhaps unfairly, because Grandfather is… we are the oldest family in the county. When they brought Duane out of the cell he was unmarked. The football players tired to sneer, but Duane looked through them as if they weren’t there. The sheriff said that if anyone slandered me again there would be trouble. Grandpa said, “One more word and I’ll run all of you filth straight back to Omaha.” The parents begged forgiveness but he ignored them. I could see he was enjoying his righteous indignation. Out in the parking lot of the county building I said thank you to Duane. He squeezed my arm and said, “It’s fine, partner.” I almost fell apart when he called me “partner.” I was not bothered by the boys at school after that, (they’d spread rumors they’d all fucked her…) After that we didn’t have anything to do with each other for a month. One summer evening when Grandpa was over for dinner he took me aside and told me it was a terrible mistake to fall in love with … I felt it was all unnecessary since Duane showed not the slightest sign of being anything more than minimally my “partner.” I tried becoming less pushy and doe-eyed which did not serve to make him friendlier. He took me to some India burial mounds in a dense thicket in the farthest corner of the property. I didn’t tell him my father had taken me there soon after I was given my first pony. .. …His lips were close to mine so I kissed them for the first time. I couldn’t help myself. He peeled the dress up over my head and threw it in the grass. He stood back, looked at me, then let out a cry or yell. We went into his tent and made love and it was the strangest feeling of my life, as if I were walking up the sun-warmed boards of a cellar door and my feet couldn’t keep my body balanced. I looked in his half-closed eyes but I knew he somehow couldn’t see me, and there was a little humor in the awkward posture because my knees were bent and so far back. I didn’t think I went in that far but he managed and I thought, whatever this is, I like it very much with my hands on his wet slippery back slipping down to his bottom. When he was finishing he wrenched me around as if her were trying to drag and crush me into his body, and when he rolled off he was breathing like a horse after a hard run. Then he fell asleep in the hot tent and far off I heard Naomi ringing the bell. I went out into the late afternoon and slipped into my damp dress. I ran all the way, except for stopping to take a quick swim. I wondered if I would look different to everyone. That was the last time I saw Duane for fifteen years. (This was their first coupling & this is also when she lost her virginity.) Post a comment in response: |
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