UNITY AND SOME REAL LOVE STORY is a Short Story based on experiences that really happend in my life for about ten years...that ended, also, about a decade ago...there are real stories out there that sound like fiction...and fiction that reads quite true....this is a story around a campfire that once burned bright...then died in the reality of the morning light....maybe it was only a dream, after all....

UNITY AND SOME REAL LOVE STORY

First off, this is no I-Wanna--Be-An-Indian love story about white folks gettin all involved with red brothers. no way. I, for one, wasn't expectin' to be ridin' off into no sunset with a Res guy any time soon. First off, I'm too skinny. there's no meat on me. only the Irish punks seem to go for my type. and they beat women sometimes. not sayin' all of them... Second off, I'm white as snow, like Snow Fringles White. can't take the sun. the Res people and I both are called Red. me, red hair. sunburnt skin most of the year. glasses. small. wiry. thin. bad teeth. poor. very white. White Trash, I'm sayin'. Dad drunk. Mom drunker. just sayin'... Also. I am a story teller. but you know, love stories... I am bad at those. just don't get love stories. not very real, usually. in my thinkin'.

So, this is no movie love story. but, just maybe, it's a love story of the real kind. and about more than it looks from the outside, where you live, in Cali-I-For-Ni-A... what do you know about small town Arizona? - what you know about the Res, for sure - could be put in a match book: lots of little flames. but all go up in fire and smoke all at once. then, piff. gone.

Jesse and me had been friends since in kindergarden, where we didn't know nothin' about not playin' with people who'er different than you are. we both thought that just applied to home. to our hood, as you hiphoppers would be sayin' it.. due to, of course, the teacher was all with how we were Rainbow Children, all colors and religions and what-not. all together in 'unity' and so on. even in the face of all evidence outside her door to the contrary. she was the sort of teacher who believed her own self. and passed it on as somethin' fine to do... which was plain trouble at home. where my mama made it clear that no Injun Child was comin' over for snacks after school. not in this lifetime. not in this house. Dad just sayin' he don't want no half-breed grandbabies. like we five year old brats were goin' to be breedin' any time soon...leads to it, he said. later. and not much later, girl. don't you know it.

See, friendships of this sort were sneaky secret from the get-go. Except the teacher knew. she encouraged such things. and thought she was being way liberal and stuff. we were cute. very cute. of course, later we wouldn't be so cute. but in her grade, it was OK. Just sayin'....

Jesse and me started up just being story tellers. which were called lies by the grown-ups. but really, they were great stories. unbeknownst to us, we were beginnin' our writin' careers of some future that wasn't goin' to happen. but did happen at bit. against all odds, I'd say. neither of us was bright. not sayin' we were stupid. just not brilliant. fooled around with story tellin': too much...all day...all evenin'. Mom got told all the time that I had a bad attitude, on account of I didn't pay attention at all in class. too busy plannin' the next story, which I was totally obsessed with. and the shrink I go to sometimes when the blues get too bad says I got my compulsions from those obsessions. makes sense. and I gotta say...I don't really have no problem with that at all. all my hang-ups probably made me a better story teller, I figure.

See, Jesse was marked, naturally, by his grandpa, who was a Medicine dude, and was way respected on the Res for all sorts of goin'-ons he did day and night. which sometimes Jesse could tell me about. sometimes not. due to my being white and all... Jesse was marked. so him tellin' stories constantly was no big problem on the Res... me tellin' stories was unnatural, I guess. 'cause I got slapped upside quite a bit for day dreamin' and not paying attention at all. which was true. I admit it. but I sure couldn't stop it. stories just were flyin' in me mornin' and night even. can't stop what's goin' on in your head automatic-like, seems to me. poor folk like my parents get very ashamed of that kind of 'crap' as they say, though. since they have enough trouble looking respectable ever without addin' in a nitwit daydreamin' fool like me. all together, we were not respectable one whit, so can't see how it would matter what a runt kid like me was doin'....but I can tell you it did. and I was punished for my stories. since they were nothin' but trouble. so, I just took 'em to the Res - where no one gave a flea's ass if you told stories or no. I told my stories there - no problem. Jesse told his right back. it was good.

Lee came into our lives like nothin' anybody I ever had seen before. not ever. all my pals on the Res - meanin' Jesse and his brother and his uncle, being my only friends period in this world - said the same: for a white woman, she was plain unnatural. which I knew a lot about... she came in talking a blue streak. like all white people on the Res. on account of being nervous in such a place...first off. it's not got many roads that lead anywhere on any map. second off, no one ever gives a white person directions that make any sense. I know this for a fact. third off, no white person really has any business being deep into the Res. the only reason I was ever there was Jesse wanted me there. on account of how we were really only cozy in each other's company. period. so his bro and his uncle put up with me. Jesse got his way, on account of being marked and all...

so, how did she get in so far? turns out the Weavin' Women knew her. she sold rugs for them. the tradin' post gave them not even half of what the store got. but Lee sold their rugs and only took ten percent for gas and food and gettin' the space to sell and stuff. she didn't even own a car worth shit, for example. so she was hardly rippin' off the Women. The Elders were for her too. she joked with them... but she got bossy around white police or even around the Res police. about defendin' an Elder who was mindin' his or her own beeswax on their own land... these old folks didn't want to leave their land. the government was gonna 'relocate' them, on account of a deal made to get the Hopi back some of the land the Navajo had stole like hundreds of years ago. the government is stranger than fiction when they want after somethin'...in this case...the coal laying right under our feet....

Anyway, that's how she was gettin' on the good side of everybody....mostly though, she was just gettin' herself into trouble, far as I could see...plus she had a writin' lady with her, who was writin' a whole book about everybody in sight on the Res who Lee was helpin' and workin' with and all....it didn't take Lee long to get me all involved, being as how there wern't many white ladies hanging around this deep inside the Res. and, being friends with Jesse and all.
I could use the excitement. she could use some other white person who wasn't a Wanna Be or a Groupie or something. that was me. I had grown up with only Dine' kids to play with. their moms had watched over me, on account of Mom and Dad drinkin' days sometimes. so I was natural around the Res.

I got to say I respected Lee. but she was a pistol. she could lose her temper if you weren't like workin' very hard for her Weavers, or givin' her all your time. I wasn't much into being her Groupie either, so I wasn't always available to help out... she especially was a task-driver at the Sun Dances, which were supposed to be very secret. she got donations for the mutton and the vegetables and flour and so on...then she worked me in the kitchen day and night cooking up stews in the heat of the day and far into the next day. and cleanin' up and haulin' water and so on. can't say I saw much of the rituals. anyway, they're secret. two white women slavin' away over the cook stoves: felt strange. but she could make all that OK to do somehow. I respected her, for sure.

I got two of the stories her "Book"-lady wrote. you can see them if you want. they're OK. the "Book"-lady was kinda freaked about being out on the Res. I got that, OK. Don't blame her. there's nothin' to hang your directionals on out here. you got to know the territory by heart, as I say. It's not easy to make it out here food-wise and water-wise anyways. you got to pack in your own. just even for a day trip - to see a friend or whatever. Jesse and his uncle really depend on me to get my own groceries in and to cook too. I don't mind. being a story teller and all. I'd give more than that for a story from either of those guys. I keep them all in my memory. that's what we all do.

The "Book"-lady said she'd like my stories. but she really wanted Jesse's - that way she could get to his uncle's. I told her that would be a long, hard, and dusty road to take. cuz they don't give out stories to just any body. not even to me. and I've been sort-of in their family for my whole life, practically. she seemed way disappointed about that. she had lots of patience, I can see that. but patience isn't enough. belongin' here isn't about waitin'. it's about somethin' else that has no name. least ways, no word names that I know of....

Now, back to somethin' that threads through this whole business I'm tellin' you about. like a seam that binds...that's... what love is like out here. first off, people are pretty private about love-makin'. Res folk don't talk about their personal business very much anyway. very little PDA either. and sometimes not even a smile to tell you that it's love they're thinkin' about. now, with me and Jesse, we're true and real friends. not even like brother and sister. we tell stories to each other and listen to eachother's stories. That's way special enough for me. it's a real honor, actually. no joke. him being marked and all. I don't interfere with wantin' to know what he doesn't want me to know. visa versa, for me... I just show up. we sit around and gab. I might cook up somethin'. we eat with his uncle or his brother or a friend or somethin'. talk some more. maybe I get a story. maybe no. maybe I tell a story. maybe no. whatever. no push. no shove. but, it's not love like a man and a woman. I think I'm clear on that. But, Jesse says I wouldn't know love if it blinded me like mornin' sun direct into my eyes.

Lee had a love out here on the Res, though. we all knew it, on account of white women give all these obvious hints with their eyes and smiles and stuff. her love, the Blood, never gave a hint. also, we white women make too much noise. and don't show respect to the women who we should know are actually with these guys twenty-four/seven. no kiddin'. we don't pick up the clues that these guys have been 'taken' for a long time. and the guys are just being guys, I guess. I don't know. no one has volunteereed that part to me as yet. no guy out here on the Res ever came on to me, I can tell you that. maybe they thought I was Jesse's. but, I don't think so...they never let on, and I know he didn't let on, on account of there's nothin' to let on about...but, I may be wrong here....

anyway. she had a baby with this guy. everyone knew, but no body said a word or nothin' about it all ever. really. far as I know. her husband sort-of took on the kid's care, I heard. what Lee called it was "Unity"...not the kid's name...I mean, what havin' a half-Dine' kid was all about: "Unity". everyone acted OK about it, all the same. a kid is a kid. you don't want him freakin' over something like that. enough trouble growin' up now-a-days without addin' half-breed to your problems. better left unsaid. and, be held protected by those who care about your little butt. So the kid was fine....

It was the "Unity" bit that started weighin' on everybody somehow. it was pushin' things a bit far. it was one thing to be a big help and a big friend to the Dine'. it was another to ask for somethin' like "Unity" in return...even when Lee married a Blood - one of the older guys who had been in the "Resistance" brotherhood for decades...well, she still didn't really belong. first off, she was always goin' to be White. Period. second off, unlike the rest of the Res Folk, she could still pick up and leave whenever. and, in fact, she always did just that. No Res person did. unless they were leavin' the area for good, that is. otherwise, they had to stay put. money alone was one reason. being a Res person deep, was another. "Unity" was what the Res Folk had for centuries, without namin' it. certainly, without havin' a white lady name it....

So Lee talked on and on about "Unity" even right during Native American Church rituals, which are also supposed to be secret. and even during "Sweats", which are less private, but still. it was getting on people's nerves, but no one, naturally as rain, ever said anything whatsoever, of course. I certainly didn't. so she thought it was OK to just go on and on. even when the Hopi 'excluded' her from all the land her Weavers still were livin' on, she just kept comin' out and gettin' their rugs and sellin' em, mainly back in your California... and talkin about how it was all for "Unity" of the races and stuff, towards the common causes of Human Rights. she was also callin' herself a Human Rights Advocate by now, and gettin' more publicity and stuff... at one time, I recall tellin' her that white people who were like 'excluded' and all were kinda askin' for it if they kept pushin'. Jesse's uncle had told me that she was a 'risky one', which I took as being a serious warnin', since he rarely mentioned white folk ever for any reason, normally. she just smiled kinda Mona Lisa-like and said, I got life insurance for my boys, so I'm all set for anything. I didn't cotton to that attitude. sounded not responsible, to me.

Meanwhile, the "Book"-lady and her were close to gettin' an agent to get it all published and stuff. they were gettin' very excited and so were the Weaving Cooperative Women who were left on the Res... that "Book" was kinda gettin' a life of its own. People were worried her and the "Book"-lady had maybe trashed them in the book, or maybe not represented their story right or whatever. I personally had heard from both Lee and the lady that they had kept the "Book" really clean of all petty, gossipy stuff. but people get all personal about their stories and start feelin' they're too special to tell. lot's of great stories get shot right out of the water that way, I can tell you. we story-tellin' people know all about that. you got to make people all fiction. even then they come and get all hot under the collar and tell you to your face that you used their very own story, when you really didn't. every one thinks their life is the newest thing under the sun. when that just is never true. in my experience. and, just sayin', even if it was true. what good is your life if no body knows the story? I mean, does the tree fallin' in the forest get heard fallin' if no one is there? I ask you.

So, I don't know, I guess it came as a fat surprise when Lee was killed out on the Res... That's not the official story of course. Story is, she was leavin' her husband late at night, maybe a fight or whatever. her friend was drivin' . they had rugs in the car to take to a sale out-of-state or somethin'. she wasn't wearin' a seat belt. which, now I recall, she never did... car rolled over and her neck broke. she was only in her mid-forties. the other person, and another rider maybe, were not so badly hurt. that's the official story. on the Res even. but, me, I'm not being as sure....

first off, takin' care of the "Remains" was way too-fast done...cremation and so on....second off, how bad-off were the other folks in the car...not bad? what was that about? third off, what in the hell happened with the "Book"? see, turns out every one dropped the idea about that "Book" when they found out there was a copywrite on it that Lee had asked the "Book"-lady to get for the two of them come hell or high water....so she did...and her oldest son got all her "intellectual materials" in her will. but...turns out he never, ever picked them up. though the poor "Book"-lady tried to get him to do it many a time. She also tried to get someone to agent all the work, or publish it or whatever. just to give it life....but now, no one wanted it.So, she gave up. after eight years... she told me so.

see, that doesn't make sense...I'm a story teller. so I know a good story when I see one. I saw a good story come alive here. it had everything: lots'a conflict like with the government and the 'exclusion' and the human-rights stuff and the half-Dine' kid and the Sun Dance and everything! Lots'a dramatic stuff!.. and then the "Unity" thing all mixed up with an out-and-out love affair with a Dine' and a white lady and so on. and all the relocation folks against the folks who wouldn't move off their land...lots'a hassles there I didn't even begin to tell you about. on account of I wasn't there and didn't see them first hand. but they happened: a lot of them hit the papers. at least the Navajo papers. maybe not the regular papers...I mean to say. it all happened. really happened!

I just don't know. sometimes I think she's not really dead. that Lee is in one of those witness programs. where you turn up like fifteen years later drivin' a big rig or something. protected cuz you knew somethin' or were too hot for some reason or another... I can't think it through....

There was all this action and all this feelin' everywhere. then there was nothin'. makes no sense to me. I'm the kinda person things have to make sense somehow. even if I am a story teller. I asked Jesse. and you know what he said? he said a lot of stories are buried in the sands of the Res. some can be found easy and you can tell them. some can be found if you dig for the rest of your life. they may - may not - be worth the diggin'. some are just gone. a story that's gone, maybe never was... I reminded him that the "Book"-lady still has all her stuff. and the book too. on account of Lee wanted her story told. then he said: It don't matter who wants a story told. the story has to want to be told. all by itself... that put me quiet right away. Jesse is marked. he knows what he's sayin'....

I still sometimes try to get folks out here to talk about Lee and her life out here. her love and the kid. the work she did with the Weavers - most of who were old, so they're dead. some got relocated and died right away, like the elders all do if they get torn off the earth. the others just died. or are still just out there. I don't know... but, naturally, nobody wants to talk about it. that's the way it is out on the Res. it's like Jesse says: real isn't always as real as you think it is. he's right as rain about that. and not just because he's marked and all.

Jesse and I are marryin'. The ceremony will be on the Res. which is a little strange for me. but not too strange. I have spent most of my life out here. I still don't know about love. like he says... but I know I belong with Jesse. our stories depend upon one another. we've been tight since kindergarden. like I told you.

The other love. the one for humans and Human Rights and justice and stuff, the love that Lee had... I don't know about that one either. too deep for me, maybe. or maybe not real enough....
I remember her though. even if no one talks about her any more...

I hold her story still.... I can tell it, on account of that's what I do.

I am a story teller.