Train Spirits

Sometimes the rains come in April, filling the millions of crevices that the earth had opened, dying of thirst. Then thousands of seeds buried beneath the surface burst to life, flooding the air with their sweet fragrances. The indian rider appeared in my life, and nothing remained the same.

Yet, always on the first day of May, as if nature had its own May Day. And all the hunters sharpen their claws against the tough bark of the thirsty tree trunks. The endless pounding of hoofs shakes the land as the herds return home. In a large parade of buffalo, deer, wild goats, and huge elephants.

August, this is August, and the open, dry terrain is filled with living skeletons, driven by thirst. The wells have run dry, and the town’s leadership has been forced to deliver water to the citizens. The town would die if the rains stayed away.

He was just sitting there, on a huge grey stallion, without a saddle. He wore a crisp, tilted cowboy hat and a plaid long-sleeve shirt tucked neatly into his blue jeans. He wore tall boots that seemed to be made of leather but could be of any buffalo or cowhide.

He rode up to our house, passing the bare field, the small grain shed, and sat once more without calling out. He had come here before, but on another footing. He was bareback riding on a stolen pony, escaping from a politically driven bounty hunter who wanted to eliminate all resistant Indians.

The revolt of the Indians had taken the small city by surprise, but the chief had refused permits for gold mining near the Belvian Indian shelter. Kamu had ridden into our farm looking for a shortcut to the shelter. My Dad hid him for more than a week.

We got to know each other then. He was a young lad, trying to stay alive, and I, just a little girl, was intrigued by his tales. He would talk endlessly about his hunting expeditions for buffalo or reindeer. He counted the eons of time that he came in close contact with lions, cheetahs, and crocodiles.

After a week, the revolt came to an abrupt end, with a new treaty between our leaders and the Shelter. There would be no more mining projects in that territory. Kamu left us then, promising to return when we most needed him.
Here he was now, strutting slowly up to our door. Dad came out, and they exchanged salutes. They chatted for a while, then he dismounted from the horse and went inside with Dad.

‘Where is Bridget? Is she still as beautiful and charming as she was back then?’ Dad patted him on the back.

‘See for yourself. Kamu’, He called out to me from below. There was a note of eagerness in his voice. I floated down the stairs. Kamu bowed, and I tilted my head as was his custom. He was more handsome now. A scar remained over his left eyebrow, and I wondered which of those selfish and envious townsmen was guilty.

The Indian Rider Finds a Beautiful Surprise

‘Mr. Mayor, I am a married man with two children. This maiden here only likes my stories. You must not be disrespectful….’
‘My apologies. Just a thought. I know Bridget well enough, and I never would have disrespected her. Now, don’t get me wrong. I knew nothing of your marriage until now. And if you were single, you would be a good candidate for her if she so desired. Am I wrong, Bridget?’

Did I ever tell you how horrible those Indian women look? The hair is always unkempt, the skin ever so dry, the lips full of cracks like the Earth now, and their clothes are never clean. How could he have focused on one of them? She must have drugged him, or better yet, bewitched him.

‘You are absolutely right, Mr. Mayor. I am in the same class as your daughter. And neither of us is into dating yet. But Chief Kamu is a very honorable person and a great storyteller.’

Death Comes Calling

We rode home in silence except for a few times when Dad asked me to reduce speed. I had to make sure that this crazy mind of mine didn’t go roaming off again. Why did he defend me so strongly? Why did he call me beautiful? Was I reading too much into all of this?

Was this Indian rider my next diary
The night fell on Caligari like a thick blanket. The cloudless skies boasted uncountable stars, an almost full moon, and a roaming satellite that passed overhead on an hourly basis. The town hall was packed that night, and there was hardly anyone who stayed at home. 

The mayor was waiting for Dad and the Chief. He ushered them inside and onto the stage. I noticed that something was out of order, but was unable to decipher exactly what it was. Maybe just a maiden’s sixth sense getting the better of me, but I decided to stay outside for a while and chatted with the mayor’s daughter.

Kitty seemed to have been waiting for me and lured me to a small mound where we could see and hear everything, but from a safe distance. We chatted about everything, including the twelve volunteers that the mayor managed to sign up.

We were chatting about the brave Indian who dared to show his face again in our town when the phone rang. Kitty answered, listened for a while, then said.
‘No, they are still explaining the dancing part. But, yes, the fire is ablaze. Will let you know when the party starts.’

‘Somebody got a uhh um,’ I teased her. She giggled as her usual self.
‘Now that was junior. Wanted to know about you and the dance.’
‘Where is he? I thought he would be here by now, seeing that Carol is one of the dancers.’

‘No, he said, Dad sent him and some other men over to a new canyon or a hole in the mountain or something like that.’ It hit me like a bullet! That bastard of a mayor. I had to let them know.
‘Come with me have to talk to Dad, now!’

I grabbed her by the hand and tried to break through the crowd. Two guards saw us and moved to block us. So, this is a well-designed plan. Everyone except us knew about it. We tried to get through from the right side, but another guard caught up with us and, at gunpoint, led us back to the mound and stayed there guarding us. The poor village would be taken by surprise, driven from their homes, the men killed, and the women and children, if lucky, could escape to the other side of the mountain.

The other two guards caught up with us and stayed with us, too. The phone rang again. Junior was chattering loudly and terrified. The canyon raid had, and only Junior and two others were still outside the fighting. The phone went dead. Kitty looked at me. She seemed as puzzled as I was. The guards were still there as the twelve dancers went backstage to drink their potions, accompanied by the mayor, my dad, and Kamu.

‘Let’s run for it I whispered to Kitty. We looked for a place to rush through the guards, but we were well covered. Somehow, I had to find a way to let Kamu and Dad know what was happening. Once the local militia broke through the canyon, they would arrest Kamu and maybe even my Dad.

The dancers were now leaving the town hall, and the people came out behind them. This was our only chance. I rose to my feet as Kitty slammed her feet into one of the guard’s shins. He cursed under his breath as we ran toward the Dad and the dancers.

When we arrived, Kamu was talking on his cell phone, and so was the mayor. We pulled Dad aside, and we related to him what we found out. He only smiled and told us not to worry. Dad had that kind of patience that always made him victorious, where most people usually fail.

The phone went dead. Kitty looked at me. She seemed as puzzled as I was. The guards were still there as the twelve dancers went backstage to drink their potions, accompanied by the mayor, my dad, and Kamu.

‘Let’s run for it I whispered to Kitty. We looked for a place to rush through the guards, but we were well covered. Somehow, I had to find a way to let Kamu and Dad know what was happening.  Once the local militia broke through the canyon, they would arrest Kamu and maybe even my Dad.

The dancers were now leaving the town hall, and the people came out behind them. This was our only chance. I rose to my feet as Kitty slammed her feet into one of the guard’s shins. He cursed under his breath as we ran toward Dad and the dancers.

When we arrived, Kamu was talking on his cell phone, and so was the mayor. We pulled Dad aside, and we related to him what we found out. He only smiled and told us not to worry.  Dad had that kind of patience that always made him victorious, where most people usually fail.

The dancers started chanting as the beat of the drums rose into the air.  Kamu had joined them, and now the mayor summoned the guards. I thought that this was the moment when we would experience time behind bars, but the guards left in some sort of haste.

The fire was bigger now, and the flames jumped into the air, dancing a different melody. Smoke burned the noses of the people closest to the bonfire. They moved away, coughing and fanning away the fumes.

But most were enjoying the show. A great part of the youth had never seen an Indian dance and were the most attentive spectators. But I was still worried, what if the rain did not come? Kamu would just disappear, and the problems would come to our door.

How would Dad handle it? Another toy bomb, or maybe a rocket launcher? How long would we spend in jail? Would we lose our land after, or return to a home destroyed or burnt to the ground?

The Last Straw for an Indian Rider

The dancers were now in a single row as if controlled by some magical force. They danced the same choreographic moves. It would appear as if they had practiced for years, and now were making their best performance before the national theatre.

Now and then, they would pause and make a united shout in a language that neither Kity nor I understood. They continued their bizarre chanting, dancing, and shouting for a while. My feet got tired, and Kitty and I sat down on the paved park.

The first few drops, although heavy and large, went rather unnoticed by the crowd, who were now sweating heavily from the heat of the fire. But when the lightning and thunder started to peal throughout the sky, everyone changed their posture.

Some joined in the dance while others started to shout and, still others, hugging and shaking hands. Then suddenly there was a sound like a hurricane wind rushing in from all sides, and the rains came.

The people did not run home. No, they stayed and danced and shouted. Ignoring the wetness of the torrential downpour.  The only one who disappeared to look for his son was the mayor. Somehow, the Chief had expected the attack and was well prepared.

Until the time of this writing, I have not seen Junior again, and neither has Kitty. Sometimes the rain comes in April, but it wasn’t until this August, when the rains came late, that I had seen so many people dancing in the rain.