The Savage

Six

For clarity, the Sioux words used are spelled phonetically, to the best of my ability so you, dear reader, will know what they sound like and be able to read and 'hear' them easier.

~Sara

After school, Nettie and I walked silently along the edge of the dirt track leading back toward where I lived. Our footsteps were soft, padded by the green grass, no sound but the song of the nearby thrushes. When Miss Hazel had dismissed the class, I had been made to stay behind while she wrote out a brief note for my mother. Knowing what it would say, I had stuffed it into my skirt pocket without a second glance. Nettie had waited outside, and asked no questions until we were nearly to my home.

"You gonna get in trouble?" her voice was small, soft, and I slid my eyes over to look without turning my head. Nettie was watching the grass at her feet as we went along, her hands behind her back, holding onto her lunch pail. I shrugged faintly.

"I don't know. Mamma...she doesn't like when I fight, and I promised I would be good, but-" I stopped suddenly, ashamed of myself. Excuses were for the weak. "Yes. She will be angry."

I had made a solemn vow a long time ago, and ever since I began attending school with the other children, I had done nothing but break that promise. Mamma had never said anything, but now I could see her disappointment with me. It tainted everything she did for me, every interaction we had. I felt my heart squeeze tight, guilt eating at me. Nettie had found an ant mound, sending the tiny bugs into a panic with the toe of her shoe.

"Tell her it was for me, that you was protectin' me." He face was earnest, sincere. "She can't be mad at you for that."

"I will be fine." My tone had changed abruptly, unused to someone else caring whether I got in trouble or not. I tried to soften my reply. "I mean, do not trouble yourself. My mother has been angry before."

"Well," Nettie's grin was lopsided. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

She turned and trudged off through the tall grass along a thin trail that wound up into the sloping foothills above the small valley we called home. I watched until she disappeared from sight then headed home. As I crossed the small brook that ran between the road and home, a sudden chill touched my back, prickles of unease that raced up and down my spine. A small scuff, the sigh of grass under soft feet- I whirled around, ready to face whoever was sneaking up behind me, but no one was there. Eyes searching the area, I saw nothing, heard nothing, but I could feel a gaze on me, the weight of someone's, or something's, stare.

Head up, shoulders back, I turned and continued on my way. Behind me I could catch faint sounds, tiny indications of pursuit, but I would not turn. There were few things that could catch me by surprise, and I had a cautious hope of what this new presence was. Maybe I was foolish, but I was ready to believe if it meant what I'd always dreamed could come true. It felt like an Indian. A smile tugged at the edge of my mouth, but it faded when I heard Frank's voice call to me from half a dozen yards away, and I looked up.

"Hey Butterfly!" he was sweating, an axe over one shoulder, a rifle in the other hand. There was a large pile of chopped wood stacked behind him. "You're a tad late comin' home aren't you?"

"Yes sir." I felt my spine stiffen as the muscles in my neck tightened. I could never anticipate what his reaction to my fighting would be. His gray eyes lingered over my face for a moment then he nodded, expelling his breath in a long sigh. Coming to my side, he knelt down to one knee, his hand held out.

"Let's see it then."

Without a word I pulled the note from my pocket and put it into his gloved hand, expressionless. I watched as he read it, twice. Folding the paper, Frank rose, tipping his head toward the house.