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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  1. Miss Prudy from the Newspaper

  2. Two Moons and the Eagle Feather

  3. Uncle Emmett

  4. Me and Icarus

  5. Old Man Hawkins

  6. Simmons’ Pond

  7. Man with No Eyes

  8. Judge Taggart

  9. The Medicine Man

  10. How I Got My Indian Name

  11. Ain’t Nothin’ Like Flyin’

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This book was inspired mostly by my four children: Leisl, Matthew, Michael, and Christian. I love them more than anything else in the world, so it is dedicated to them. Which characters each inspired is for you to guess.

  To my wife Jennifer: I know it is difficult being married to a writer; conversations lapse into daydreams, small tasks become exercises in concentration, affections must be shared or stolen away like peaches from a friend’s orchard. Yet, each story that I write is an offering, a gift that I hope makes up for the hours I spent away from her while the children were sleeping and she was alone in a quiet house.

  Special thanks to Jack Gilmore and his wife Becky for their insights into the Navajo culture. We spent hours talking about a way of life that revolves around respect and compassion. It made a major difference in this story, and in many of my personal beliefs. Thank you, Jack, Becky, Justus, Cameron, J. J., Alek, and Lane.

  —Stephen Wunderli

  1

  MISS PRUDY FROM THE NEWSPAPER

  My name is Matt. I don’t feel like talkin’ to nobody, least that’s what I told Miss Prudy from the Emery County Register. She got her nose in everybody’s business and I just don’t feel like bein’ sniffed over. Especially by Florence Nightingale Prudy. She got no business of her own worth listenin’ to so she went to work for the newspaper just so she’d have a reason to talk to folks. You know, find out their business and tell everyone else. Trouble is, nothin’ much happens here in Thistle. Someone’s always dyin’ in the mine, but that’s not news to anybody that’s been around awhile. Pa once said Miss Prudy is like a hen that can’t lay eggs, so she struts around the henhouse peckin’ at everybody else’s. Well, she can peck all she wants, but I ain’t gonna tell her nothin’. But I will tell you, if you promise not to tell anyone else.

  You see, it all started about a year ago. It was early spring in the year 1939 and this biplane landed in the field behind Dougherty’s orchard. It was the biggest thing to hit Thistle, Utah, since the big war ended. Some folks say there’s gonna be another world war. I guess they look forward to it in a way; not much else happenin’ around here.

  Anyway, the pilot was a short fat man with a long white scarf. He had a woman with him called the Swan. My sister, Esther, said she looked more like a duck. Esther’s not one to get along well with other folks, but she’s still family, even if she is a girl. Don’t tell her I said that, though—I don’t think she knows it yet. Anyway, this fat man would fly around while the duck lady would hang off the wing or stand on her head. They were offerin’ folks a ride for fifty cents. Pa said it was pretty foolish to go into the air with a man who could barely fit in the cockpit. He dragged me out of there before I got any ideas. I’m afraid he was a bit too late. By the time we got back home, my head was full of flyin’ ideas.

  2

  TWO MOONS AND THE EAGLE FEATHER

  About that time out on the reservation, Two Moons earned his eagle feather. I think about it now, and it was pretty fittin’. You know, the plane and Two Moons’ feather. Somethin’ seemed to be tellin’ me to get up in the air, to fly away. I’m not superstitious, but sometimes everything starts spinnin’ in the same direction and you can’t help bein’ swept away by it all. No use fightin’ it, either. It picks you up whether you’re willin’ or not, so you might as well enjoy the ride.

  Two Moons was livin’ with us then, but there was a good chance he wouldn’t be for much longer. See, he had a sister in Bozeman, Montana. Her name was Little Crow, and she figured a brother would be a good thing to have around to do her chores. She found out Two Moons was livin’ with a white family and sent word immediately to her grandfather. Said a white family wasn’t good enough for Two Moons. Wanted him to come live with her. She’s a mean thing, spent too much time in the wild without enough to eat. I guess if you grow up without a mother you could get like a coyote, roamin’ around, lookin’ for trouble. See, Two Moons’ mother died just after he was born. Made his sister ornery. She thrashed around and made everybody miserable until her father sent her away to Bozeman. Now he’d been dead awhile, and Two Moons thought she was gonna come back for him. ’Specially with him livin’ with us and all. Every time a flock of birds got spooked we thought it was her come to get him.

  Anyway, Two Moons was eleven years old then, same as me. His grandfather thought it was about time he earned his first eagle feather. That meant Two Moons had to go off by himself and come back with a deer or an antelope to feed the tribe. They make a big ceremony over the whole thing, with a feast and dancin’ and all. Pa says it’s like a journey into manhood and that he’s got to do it in order to be honorable. Still, I missed Two Moons when he left. I knew he’d only be gone for a couple of days, and that it wouldn’t take him long to bring back a deer. But I also knew that if he didn’t do it, he would never come back. It’s one of those things that has to do with pride and self-respect. And I guess if I were Two Moons and I let the whole tribe down, I wouldn’t come back either.

  So Two Moons packed a small bag and took a blanket and a bow with new arrows. Ma made him some biscuits, and I gave him my dried snake head for good luck. Then he was gone. I had lots of time to myself, and I started thinkin’ about the day Two Moons started school. Everybody knew who he was ’cause they knew his pa before he died. I’d even met Two Moons once, a few years back. But I didn’t make much fuss about him when he wandered into class looking like he rode in on a dust storm. The whole class just froze and stared at him.

  Miss Alexander asked him to take a seat, so he dragged a desk over by the window and gazed out at the empty schoolyard. I was sittin’ kinda close to him, so I said, “You play baseball?”

  He nodded slowly and looked at me.

  “There ain’t a kid in this school can hit my fastball,” I said.

  “The birds fly in your head,” he said. “Their droppings fill your mouth.”

  “I’ll drop you,” I said. “Stomp you like a fat tick.”

  He grinned then, kinda looked down. Next thing I know, he’s all over me. I never even saw him jump. I slid under my desk and got ahold of one of his legs so I could throw him. He landed right on Miss Alexander’s new globe of the world. Put a big dent in the middle of Africa. He was up quick and hit me with The Book of Knowledge. Knocked me right over. I hurried up and threw the first thing I laid my hands on, Mary Jo Barber’s soap sculpture of General Custer. Hit him right on the forehead. Got all kinds of soap in his eyes and he couldn’t do nothin’. Miss Alexander grabbed him, and Leroy the janitor grabbed me. I couldn’t think of nothin’ to say, so I yelled, “’Bout time Custer got his revenge.” That made him even madder. But he couldn’t do nothin’ about it.

  Well, they hauled us off then. Made us stand in the hallway outside of the principal’s office. First, Miss Alexander went in and told
him what she seen, then Leroy, then Mary Jo Barber. Just when I was thinkin’ it was my turn, Ma showed up. She didn’t say a word to me, didn’t even quote the Bible. She just looked me in the eyes and walked past. It was the worst kind of look, too. The kind that doesn’t need words confusin’ up the meaning. She was mad, and her eyes were so full of electricity they could’ve electrocuted me if Ma wouldn’t have been Christian-hearted and all. I stood there petrified like.

  “Your ma, she’s mad,” Two Moons said.

  “Yeah. Them angry eyes could strip paint off a barn.”

  “She don’t like you fightin’ with Indians, huh?”

  “Got nothin’ to do with Indians. Fightin’ is against her religion. She don’t mind givin’ me the devil’s eye, though.”

  “She wants you to grow up proud.”

  “I guess she does. Your ma like that?” I asked.

  “She’s gone. So’s my father. I live with my grandfather on the reservation.”

  “But that’s a hundred miles from here. What you doin’ here?”

  “The old one thinks I should learn white-man ways. He wants me to be noble like my father Red Eagle was.”

  “My father talks about Red Eagle.”

  “Most white men look up to my father.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t know my father.”

  I thought about that for a minute. We had been standin’ for an awful long time. I couldn’t think of much else to say, so I blurted out, “You still think you could whup me?”

  Two Moons smiled. “Again?” he said.

  I knew then that I liked him.

  The door to the principal’s office opened, and Ma stepped out and motioned for both of us to come in. Her eyes were different, like they had filled with tears and then drained off. I felt a sick feeling in my stomach. I hoped I didn’t make my ma cry. That was the worst feelin’ you could ever have, makin’ your own ma cry.

  “Sit down, boys,” Mr. Pilkington, the principal, said.

  We sat and looked down at our shoes.

  “Normally,” he started, “we would send the both of you home for a week and let your parents deal with you. You’d have no privileges at the school, and your parents would have to come back and sit with you in class for a day just to make sure you were behaving.”

  I got an even sicker feelin’ then. Maybe it was ’cause Mr. Pilkington was bein’ so nice about the whole thing. Ma would never side with me after he puts on this little show with the niceties and all. She’d never know how he really hollers and stomps around when she’s not there.

  “But,” he said, “Two Moons doesn’t have family here. His grandfather is back on the reservation and, well, he thought it would do Two Moons some good to get an education. I think his first day was a little disappointing, wouldn’t you agree, Two Moons?”

  Two Moons didn’t say anything.

  “So,” Mr. Pilkington continued, “we decided that the best thing for both of you would be for Two Moons to stay at your house for the duration of this school year, Matthew.”

  “My house?” I blurted. Ma shot me a glance then, and I knew there would be no talkin’ it over.

  “Yes,” Mr. Pilkington said. “He needs a place to stay, and he needs someone to help him with his lessons. We can’t have him camping out in the elements every night. The boy needs a healthy education, and you need to learn how to get along with him.”

  That’s the part of the whole lecture I hated most. I had to learn? It was like they were blamin’ me for the whole thing. I couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t my fault. He started it. Now I had to live with it. This was gonna be the worst year of my life, I thought.

  “I’ll be going out to the reservation tomorrow to check with Two Moons’ grandfather,” Mr. Pilkington said. “I’ll let you know if there are any problems, but I’m sure there won’t be. I know Two Moons’ grandfather, and he wants nothing but the best for his grandson. That’s all we want for you too, Matt.”

  That’s the problem with bein’ a kid. Everybody is always doin’ the thinkin’ for you. Someone always knows what’s best for you. Ma got awful bad like that once. It was a few years ago and she wanted me to sing in the church choir. You know, the one they have for children. She said the best thing for a boy with my inclinations is a little choir singin’. Pa chuckled about that. I didn’t have much say in the whole thing, so off I went every Saturday morning with Claudine. She’d pick me up, bein’ she was the choir director. I gotta say I tried hard, but my voice, well, it came out kinda scratchy and shaky like. I guess that’s what started the ruckus. Everybody started laughin’ and pushin’ me. I couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t easy gettin’ out of those choir seats so I was climbin’ over ’em, just tryin’ to get away from it all. That’s when the seat back broke. I tumbled right into the podium and knocked it over. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Claudine wouldn’t have been behind it. She fell over backwards with the podium in her arms, looked just like one of those professional wrestlers at the county fair. She landed on her back with the podium on top of her and her dress up by her head. Her underclothes were right there in the open for all to see. The whole choir scrambled down to get a peek as if all her sins were laid bare. I just lay back on the floor and looked up at the Lord in the stained-glass window. I thanked Him with all my heart that I now had a reason to never come back. The rest of the kids just stood there starin’ at Claudine like they’d seen a vision.

  Anyway, that’s how me and Two Moons met up. Oh, and Two Moons did get his deer. A small two-point he shot at the base of the Book Cliffs about nine miles back of our ranch. He told me it took him two days to haul it out of there. Then he invited me out to the reservation for the celebration. Pa threw the deer in the truck and drove as fast as he could to the reservation. The whole tribe was waitin’ for us, like they knew we were comin’. Two Moons dragged the deer antlers over to his grandfather and kneeled in the dirt at his feet. His grandfather was proud. He stood Two Moons up and stared into his face for a long time. Then Two Moons handed meat out to the members of his tribe. They were all gathered around Two Moons smilin’ and talkin’, sayin’ how much Two Moons was like his father.

  Then the party began. They built a big fire and started roastin’ the rest of the deer. The flames jumped high into the night sky, shootin’ sparks everywhere. One of the braves wore deer antlers and pranced around the fire; another wore only a small cloth and carried Two Moons’ bow and arrows. He followed the deer, dancin’ and stalkin’ while the tribe chanted. Two Moons was smilin’, sittin’ next to his grandfather. They watched the braves act out the hunt. The tribe chanted louder and louder as the hunter got closer and closer to the deer. The drums beat hard. The tribe stomped their feet and beat deer antlers together in loud, clacking rhythms. The hunter pretended to draw the bow. He let the arrow fly.

  I wanted to cheer. Two Moons was a star, like he just clobbered a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth to win. But suddenly it was quiet. The deer didn’t die like it would’ve in real life. It didn’t even die like it would in the movies, which is what I was really expectin’ since they were actin’. He stopped, looked up at the heavens, and started the death chant. Everyone else was quiet. The deer danced slowly. Finally, he stopped. Then the tribe did the death chant. See, Indians believe all life is sacred. That all life has a place on this earth. They believe that Two Moons’ deer was a gift from the gods. They were thankin’ the gods for sending a gift, and they were thankin’ the deer for bein’ willing. I didn’t understand that all at once, but Pa explained it to me later.

  Well, the ceremony went on after the feast. Two Moons and his grandfather stood there in the smoke of the fire after it had died down. All was quiet, and Grandfather raised his arms above his head. Then he pulled them down and to the sides like a giant bird. Then he raised them up again and began chantin’. He dropped them to his sides, then out again like he was glidin’ in the air. He raised them up again, and then out, but this time there was
an eagle feather in his hand. I don’t know where it came from, but suddenly it was there like he plucked it right out of the sky. Two Moons told me later it was a sign from the gods that they approved.

  Grandfather showed the feather to the whole tribe and they chanted while he braided it into Two Moons’ hair. The chantin’ got louder and the dancin’ started again. This time it was the dance of joy, and it lasted all night long. That’s how Two Moons became a man. And that’s when I knew I had a journey of my own to make.

  3

  UNCLE EMMETT

  There was a buzz in my head from then on. The buzz of airplanes. All I could think about was flyin’. Me and Two Moons drew pictures of eagles and airplanes on everything. Ma finally got mad and told Pa he better do something about all this flyin’ business. Pa just laughed. He said it would eventually run itself out. Well, we had other ideas. Me and Two Moons decided we would have to make ourselves an airplane.

  The snow was startin’ to melt off then, and it was like the fields were full of hidden treasures. The hotter the sun got, the more we discovered. We were rummagin’ along lookin’ for plane parts and got close to crazy Emmett’s place. Pa wants us to call him Uncle Emmett, but he’s not really our uncle. Pa brought him home after the big war. Said he was the best fighter pilot in all of Europe. Then he explained to us later that the war had been hard on Emmett and that a good piece of his brain just didn’t want to function anymore. Ma said sometimes that happens when a man sees too much pain and killin’. Emmett just wanted to be a kid the rest of his life, so Pa built him a cabin out of two old milk trucks and some crooked lumber. The trucks sit back to back. The front truck is the kitchen and the back truck is the bedroom. Pa built a porch so Emmett would have a place to sit out of the sun in the summertime.

  Well, we found a good piece of rope under the snow that day and pulled it up like a long, stiff snake all the way to Emmett’s porch. Emmett was sitting in the cab of the kitchen truck. His big hands were wrapped around the steering wheel and he was leanin’ over it, lookin’ up into the sky. He swayed slowly to each side, still watchin’ the clouds. Then he jerked back on the wheel as if it were the stick of an airplane. His face got all twisted up and his whole body was tremblin’. He lifted his hands from the wheel, sighted down his thumbs, and fired at the Model T in the field in front of him. Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat. He closed one eye. Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat. Then he leaned way back as if he were pullin’ the plane into a long loop and roll. That’s when he saw us. He smiled a half smile, closed one eye, and gave us the thumbs-up. Then he disappeared into the kitchen.