INTO MYTH
It was April 21st 1865.
Ahgamahwegezhig
looked at me huddled behind the mound of rubble. He had been my father's
best Ojibwe student.
I called him Chief Sky because every time I tried to pronounce his Ojibwe name, I sounded like I was a cat heaving up a furball.
He, Corporal
Danvers, and I were all that was left of the Wisconsin 8th Infantry.
Well,
there was Old Abe, the eagle mascot, of the company. Captain
Perkins named him after the President.
Who am I?
I’m Jim McGinnis, the last of a long line of teachers, and the idiot who volunteered to take care of Old Abe.
In
August 1861, John C. Perkins, assisted by Seth Pierce, Frank McGuire, and
Victor Wolf recruited a company of volunteers from Eau Claire and Chippewa
Counties.
This company was called
the "Eau Claire Badgers.”
Chief Sky had come along to make war on whites and because Old Abe belonged to him.
Why didn’t he take care of Old Abe?
The eagle liked to ride on my
leather-shod shoulder.
And
his talons hurt like hell.
On March 25th, the Claywater Meteorite exploded just before reaching ground level, delivering a cluster-bomb effect as fragments of its enormous mass showered Vernon County.
At least, folks thought it had
exploded.
Then, the huge Tripods started
walking about, killing everything living in their paths.
The remnants of the Eau Claire Badgers were called back from Mansura,
Louisiana to help fight
the Star Fallers.
We didn’t fare too
well. But then, I had taken an oath. I meant to live up
to it.
And to repay the debt of the dead
… with interest.
I peeked over the mound. The giant Tripod was still too close even though it was clanking along to the east.
Danvers licked his dry lips.
“Lieutenant, we got to get us some water
soon. We’ve been three days without it.”
I
said low, “If I were a creek, where would I be?”
Chief Sky looked at me. “If I were a creek, I would be where the ground slopes.”
“Riiiight.” Sometimes
it was good to have an Indian scout.
Old
Abe was where I told him to go. Up high in that
cottonwood. The tripod finally noticed him and swiveled slowly, its
turret aiming at him.
From
the bloody past, we had learned those Star-Fallers took three seconds
to blow something apart.
Up until then, they had some sort of
invisible barrier around them. I raised my already loaded Sharpes
rifle.
The smooth, steady movement of my
arms raised a shiver of panic in the rational man whose advice I was ignoring.
I aimed down that turret’s barrel, counted to two, and fired.
All
of us flew to the ground, even Old Abe.
Bits of smoking metal rained down all around us.
They were sizzling hot.
Old Abe squawked as he flew down beside me.
Chief Sky wasn’t any happier with me.
“Just
like a white man to kill himself along with his enemy.”
“We’re
still alive,” I said.
“Not
for much longer if you follow this way of attack.”
Danvers ran his fingers through his red hair.
“We ain’t gonna make it home,
are we, sir?”
I
said low, “There’s still a chance. We’ll get there.”
Danvers
looked to Chief Sky. “What do you think?”
The last of the Ojibwe shrugged his shoulders and smiled crooked at me.
“As your trusted Indian scout, I must warn you
that you are now on very thin ice.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Hope. You will starve to death
if you insist on living on it.”
Danvers looked on his last nerve. I glared at Chief Sky who flicked flat black eyes at the Corporal.
He grunted a laugh.
“I will tell you a secret,
Danvers.”
“What?” the Corporal asked, his
voice sounding like a too-stretched skin on a drum.
“I believe that the heart is stronger than knowledge.
That myth wins over history.
That dreams beat facts.
That hope triumphs over experience.
That laughter is the only cure for grief.
And I believe that love is stronger than death.”
I sometimes forgot about how spiritual
Chief Sky was.
I had been raised as a Methodist where the highest
sacrament was the bake sale.
He turned amused eyes to me.
“I would also say the depths of the lieutenant’s stupidity have
yet to be plumbed,
and ours is coming up fast for we follow him.”
Danvers made a face.
“I was feeling better until that last.”
Chief Sky smiled like a wolf. “Come, Danvers.
As Eagle Walker says:
‘We
have oaths to keep and debts to repay.’”
And so with Old Abe flying overhead,
did the last of the "Eau Claire Badgers”
walk into myth.
Absolutely charming story, Roland.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Misky. I tried my hand at myth. :-)
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