The Savage Ones

The rocking, swaying motion finally opened my eyes, and blinking, I looked around. The earth was not how I'd left it, and it took a moment for me to realize I was on the pinto, Frank behind me, his arm around my shoulders to hold me in place. He knew I'd woken but didn't move his arm, and I didn't ask him to. Our home came into sight, a beacon of light in the distance. Mamma must have been watching for us, and when Frank stopped the pony in the yard the door opened. Her face eased from tight worry to silent acceptance. She'd seen my hair, or what was left of it. Holding her arms out, she spoke softly.

"Come. I've kept supper for us."

"Mamma..." her arms felt good, but I squirmed until she put my feet on the ground. I wasn't a little girl anymore. "I am not hungry."

"But Jaynie-!"

"Leave her be, Jenny." Frank slipped off the pinto, giving her cheek a quick kiss. "She'll eat when she's ready. Butterfly had a long day."

"Oh alright," her hand touched my locks, gently fondling the jagged cut. "But you'll let me even up your hair, won't you?"

"Yes Mamma, but...not tonight?" Looking up into her eyes, I felt old, older than the mountains and hills. The world did not seem the same as it had yesterday, but I knew that it was me that changed, and things would never be the same again. "Can I just go to bed?"

"If you're certain. We'll talk tomorrow." She bent, kissing my cheeks several times before watching me walk into the cabin. Behind the closed door, I heard Frank's deep voice, assuring my mother I was fine and that it had been a good ceremony, but tiring. Rubbing my eyes, I ran my fingers through my sheared mane, feeling the difference in the shorter cut. It would take time to have its raven length back, but by then my heart would stop bleeding and I would be whole once more. Climbing up to my bed, I collapsed onto the pallet, my eyes barley closed before I fell asleep again.

Frying bacon, hot biscuits and fresh coffee woke me up. Without rising, I peeked over the edge of the loft, watching Mamma move around the kitchen, humming. She looked so happy, so beautiful, it made my heart ache. If only she could have been happy with my father-! But I shook my head fiercely, trying not to give into the temptation to blame her. Frank appeared from below me, his shirt unbuttoned, and wiping white lather off his chin. It still amused me that white men had to do such a thing. As if feeling my gaze, he glanced up, and flashed a wink at me.

"Mornin' Butterfly."

"Father." It was a whispered word, but I saw the slight change in his eyes, the surprise. For a moment our gazes held, a brief acknowledgment of our new roles.

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

"Wash up and get dressed, we'll eat together."

Breakfast was a quiet affair, as no one felt like speaking, lost to our own thoughts and feelings. I helped Mamma clear the table, then she sat me down, brought out her scissors and clipped the rough edges smooth. I didn't want to see the end result, so she let me go. Outside, the sunlight was cheery and bright, the air warm, pleasant, a promise of summer. Frank was walking toward the barn, and saw me.

"Whatcha up to today girl?"

"I have my chores,"

"And after?"

"I- I'd like to go see Nettie." The words surprised me, but being my only friend, I had the desire to see her, to speak my heart to her.

"Nettie?" Frank's brow furrowed. "Who's Nettie?"

That stopped me. The colored girl had been a part of my world for a few weeks now, yet I had not shared her with my family, had not even spoken of her. It saddened me that I was so closed off, so unwilling to speak of my actions and thoughts that I'd hidden my friend. Ashamed, I scrunched up my nose, pulling at the short hair clipped around my forehead.

"Nettie is my friend."

"Your friend." Frank tried to sound normal, but I heard the disbelief in his tone. "You haven't mentioned her."

"She is my friend." I heard the quiver in my words, and strove to control it, to convince him without pleading. "Nettie Sadler is my only friend."

"Sadler..." I saw understanding fill his eyes, and his lips twitched slightly in that amused way he had. "Sure, once your chores are done."

"Thank you Frank- I mean," it was hard and I let the words die, but he nodded at me.

"One mountain at a time, Butterfly."

Rushing through the morning chores, I milked the cow, gathered the eggs, made my bed and washed the dishes from breakfast in half the time it normally took me. I heard Mamma's voice calling after me to not stay too long, and Frank's warning to be careful, but then I was running.

The air roaring in my ears, my skirt flapping loudly against my legs, I fled across the land like an antelope. A mile had gone by when I noticed movement to one side, something keeping pace with me. Slowing, I angled over toward the stream that passed behind our cabin, the one that flowed steadily on until it joined the mighty river farther west. Among the reeds and brush I knelt down, scooping water into my hand, and up to my mouth. His voice did not startle me this time.

"Hou moosh'kay, Kimimela."

"Leela ampaytu keen washday (today is a good day)."

"You are in mourning." His dark eyes probed mine, and I nodded. "Doe key ya lay hey? (Where are you going)"

"My friend, her family lives just there." I pointed with my chin, remembering not to use my hand. In some villages it was considered rude. Wind Runner nodded, his eyes searching the direction I indicated.

"She is white?"

"No." my answer surprised him, and his eyes swung back to mine. "Her skin is like earth after a winter storm, but I do not care. She is my friend."

"Easy, little one. I do not intend to insult her. I am only curious." He knelt down, not attempting to come closer. "Our people are leaving for the summer hunting grounds, and I've spoken of you to the chiefs. They invite you to come talk with them, to discuss if the daughter of our fallen warrior would go with her people. Will you come?"

My heart leapt into my mouth, beating frantically like a wild bird, but I bit hard on my tongue to stop the flood of words from coming. It was what I had been wanting, dreaming of, pleading for ever since my life had been turned upside down...yet I had given my word to Frank. Looking at Wind Runner, I shook my head slowly.

"I have made an oath to my white father, Frank Colter. I have said that I will remain under his roof, with my mother, until I am no longer a child. I will not break my promise."

"It is good, little one." He rose, looking down at me, a smile in his eyes. "Your word is a thing to honor, not to be forked like a snake's tongue."

"You...you will not forget me." It was a hesitant statement, though I was not certain of his answer. The brave actually smiled, reaching out to touch my shoulder lightly.

"I will not forget you, Butterfly. We will see each other again."

My gaze dropped, shy, pleased, but when I looked up Wind Runner had gone, vanished like morning mist. Taking a moment to seal his words into my heart, I again started toward Nettie's home, full of news that was for her ears alone.

"Jaynie!" Nettie saw me coming, and burst from the door of her family's home, but she stopped short, eyes flared wide. "What on earth happened to your hair?!"

Behind her, peeking from the doorway, I could see curious pairs of eyes, those of her younger siblings, a boy and girl. They looked solemnly back at me, then I shifted my gaze to Nettie.

"I cut it." She came out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the house. I resisted, suddenly shy, and she looked at me.

"What's wrong with you?" moving close, she gazed into my eyes, seeming to look for something hidden there. "Did somethin' happen?"

"Yes. I would tell you about it,"

My eyes shifted to her curious family still inside, then back to her. Nettie held tightly to my fingers as she called behind her, asking her mother if it was alright that she played outside with me. A tall, somewhat thick black woman came to the door. Her eyes were kind, and warm. Seeing me, she smiled.

"Sure, jest not too far, ya hear?"

"Yeesum."

Nettie pulled me away, and we strolled along the dirt yard together, kicking at little ant mounds. She didn't ask, just waiting until I was ready. Finally I stopped, looking at nothing in particular, then glanced over, meeting her eyes.

"I cannot speak of him," I started softly. "It is not polite to speak of the dead, but I am in mourning. I cut my hair to make public that until it grows back, my heart is not whole."

She absorbed that for a while, then nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Yes, but I cannot. It is done, and I must not speak of him."

"Well, you can tell me how you feel. You don' hafta talk about a person, 'pacifically."

Considering that, I took a few steps, Nettie following.

"I am not whole, Nettie. I am broken. It hurts, and I- I...I have no one waiting for me in the village of my people. I have no family left there." Tears suddenly sprang into my eyes and I gasped, turning sharply away. When Nettie would have followed I pushed her back. Angrily I swiped at my eyes, refusing to let the moisture gain freedom. It took a full minute to regain control, and when I looked into the concerned eyes of my friend, I was ready.

"I cannot speak of him, but know that I am hurting and if I am unkind, or say harsh words, it is because of my pain, not my heart."

"You sound different." Nettie pulled her braid around to her mouth, slightly chewing on the end. "You don' talk that way, normal."

"I feel different, Nettie. Maybe I will never be the same again."

"I get that." A smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth, those chocolate brown eyes twinkling. "You still like to play, or you too grown up now?"

"I am not too grown up for a race," I indicated the far stand of poplar trees with a nod of my head. "First one there?"

Her answer was a shrieking laugh as she took off and giggling, I sprinted after her.