Vivid (45 page)

She further explained to Vivid that during
the old days the games were very intense because they were sometimes used as
practices for war. But it was not the only reason the People played.
Intertribal ball games were also called to settle land disputes and hunting
boundaries. Sometimes a chief called for ball games on his deathbed, and tribes
played to honor his life and to ease his passage to the ancestors. The
Menominee played ball every spring before the first thunder to cure illness.
Each tribe had its own ceremonies and methods of playing.

"Now," she said a bit sadly,
"there are so few of us left, we have taken customs from all who care to
come. The
apisaci
were originally part of the Choctaw game, the drivers
are Cherokee and wore turbans on their heads in the old days. We in the Lakes
play with a knot from a tree; the Iroquois use a ball of stuffed deer
hide."

Vivid found the information fascinating
and asked, "So when did the Grove game begin?"

"Our grandfathers began the tradition
back in the early forties," Abigail said.

Mrs. Red Bird added, "And in spite of
all the government has done and the passage of the years, we continue to honor
the families and ancestors of both races, and play."

The night before the game the Grove hosted
the traditional Ball Game Dance. While Vivid and her parents stood with Magic,
Satin, Abigail, and the other nonparticipating residents under the flickering
light of the torches and ceremonial fires lining the field, the dances
commenced on the beat of the traditional groundhog hide-covered drum. Two lines
of nearly seventy women of both races, all attired in traditional dresses
worked through with beads, needlework, and ribbon appliques, sang and danced
slowly in rhythm in the center of the field. Vivid spotted Miss Edna, Maddie,
and Adam Crowley's daughter, Jewel, among the Grove women, and the
resplendently dressed Anna Red Bird swaying slowly with the women of the
People. The blended voices of the women rose in the night with such beauty and
power Vivid felt chills course up and down her arms.

Between the lines of women were two shamans,
one young, the other old. The two men raised their voices over the singing
women, offering prayers and salutations to the ancestors.

While the women continued to dance and
chant, and the shamans offered their prayers, the players of both teams, bared
to the waist, were dancing at the other end of the torch-lit field. Vivid
stared, engrossed, as they gracefully wielded their sticks down by the area of
the goal, whirling and turning and striking imaginary goals. Abigail told them
that the dance Nate, Eli, and the other Grove men were doing had been added to
the ceremony by her father. Some of the movements were similar to the steps of
their native competitors. As Vivid watched Nate moving against the oscillating
light, she remembered him speaking of his grandfather's dancing the day they'd
gone berry hunting. She was certain his grandfather would be pleased to know
his grandsons were keeping the traditions of their ancestors.

The air was thick with the sounds of drums
and singing as Vivid and Abigail headed everyone back to the house hours later.

Vivid lay in bed surrounded by darkness.
Her windows were open and she could hear the faint echoes of the drum and the
sweet voices riding on the night air. Abigail had told her earlier that back in
her youth the dance would go on all night. Vivid listened for a moment, then as
the hour grew late, she drifted into sleep and dreamed of drums, lacrosse
sticks, and the Thunder God.

The next morning as they ate breakfast
before going to the game, Magic told the story of "How the Bat Got Its
Wings."

According to the Cherokee legend, the land
animals challenged the birds to a ball game. Among the land animals were the
bears, because their weight could wear down the opposition; the deer, because
of their swiftness; and the turtles, because their shells made them impervious
to attack. High up in the trees were their winged opponents, led by the eagle
and the hawk, both known for their swift, powerful flights. Two little furry
creatures asked the land animals to play but were laughed at because of their
small size and turned away. The winged team took pity on the two creatures and
allowed them to play on their side—but they needed wings.

Magic's voice held everyone rapt as she
said, "The eagle and the hawk thought and thought on how to get the little
ones some wings, then they remembered the drum they'd used at the Ball Game
Dance the night before. There was some groundhog leather left over from the
making of the drum head, so they cut some wings for one little creature and attached
it to his legs. Since it now had wings the birds changed its name to
Tlameha."

"And what does that mean?" Vivid
asked.

"Bat," Magic explained.
"The birds didn't have any more groundhog leather to make wings for the
second little animal, so they decided to make wings out of the animal's own
fur."

Francesca chuckled as she asked, "How
in the world did they accomplish that?"

"They stretched him," Magic
said. "One strong bird got on one side and another strong bird on the
other. Then they pulled and pulled until he had wings and they changed its name
to Tewa—the flying squirrel."

According to Magic, the ball was tossed up
and the flying squirrel who'd gone down to the ground as the bird's
representative immediately captured the ball and ran it up the tree to the
birds, who kept the ball aloft for some time. The ball dropped from the sky,
however, and plunged in the direction of the ground where the land animals
waited eagerly.

"But little Tlameha dove out of the
sky and grabbed the ball in his teeth, and caught it just before it hit the
ground. He did so much fancy flying, not even the deer could catch him. Then he
threw the ball into the goal and won the game for the birds."

Vivid and the other adults clapped
heartily as she ended the tale, then Anna Red Bird added, "And now, even
today, it is traditional for players to interweave a piece of a bat wing into
their webbings to aid in their victory."

After the traditional opening ceremonies,
the ball was tossed up and the game evolved into a furious-paced contest played
against a background of mayhem. Everywhere on the field men were running,
shouting, and in some cases slashing at opponents with their stick in an effort
to get the ball. The game moved so swiftly, Vivid had a hard time
distinguishing the ball carrier from the other players. She watched Eli streak
toward the opponent's goal only to be bowled over by another man. As he tumbled
hard to the ground Eli flipped the ball across the field, hoping it would land
in the webbed stick of one of his teammates. All the men crashed into one
another, slashing and hacking. Finally out of the fray came a Native man
streaking for the Grove's goal. His teammates sprinted after him, swift as the
deer in Magic's story, and once they were near, they spread across the field
like a wing. The ball carrier passed it to one of his men up the field, but
charging toward the wing were the Crowley sons. The two groups converged like
opposing waves and the center of the field became an eddy of twisting sticks
and turning bodies as players fought for possession of the ball.

Vivid caught a glimpse of Nate, then lost
him in the revolving fray. She saw Vernon slash at a man and get hacked across
the leg in return for his trouble. As the game continued Vivid began to see the
beauty and grace of this violent game. The movements of the men were graceful,
powerful. She also began to see why the People were perennial winners. They
were better. They were faster and much more precise and accurate with their
passes. They seemed to sense without looking when a teammate was near enough to
receive the next forward pass, while the Grove men were not as skillful. Many
of their passes landed like gifts in the webbing of their opponents—a
fact Adam Crowley kept screaming about as he yelled instructions.

Two things amazed Vivid as the People
scored the first goal. One, despite the high level of excitement and drama,
those viewing the game were, for the most part, silent. Not even when the
People scored another quick goal did anyone but the visitors from the cities
utter a cheer.

Secondly, she couldn't understand why
tempers weren't flaring from all the slashing and hacking and knocking. Men
were actually smiling at one another during the heated skirmishes. When Eli was
bowled over earlier, he'd given his attacker a large grin as the laughing
native man helped him to his feet, then they both ran back to join their mates.
She leaned over and asked Anna Red Bird, "Why is everyone so silent?"

Anna did not take her eyes from the game
as she said, "My people are not as publicly demonstrative as Americans. We
enjoy a good contest but we don't see the need to raise our voices or jump up
and down like poor Adam over there."

Anna reached over and touched her friend
Gail on the arm and said, chuckling, “Gail, maybe you ought to go over there
and say something to him before he kills himself."

Abigail Crowley looked over at her husband
and said, "You know Adam, he's gotten too old to play and he just doesn't
know what to do with himself."

Francesca Lancaster then asked the
question Vivid had asked herself earlier. "I would expect more fighting in
a game like this."

The Grove scored finally and a few cheers
rang out.

"There are few actual fights because
you accept the spirit of the Little Brother when you walk out onto the field,
otherwise you stand over here and watch as we are doing," Anna Red Bird
said with a small smile.

In the end, the People beat the Grove
seven goals to two.

After the game, the men dragged themselves
back to the field after the traditional wash-off in the small pond on the edge
of Mr. Farley's property.

Some of them went to join families while
others went over to the crowd circling the pile of goods that had been bet.
Most, however, made their way to the makeshift clinic Vivid had set up beside
the field.

She treated swollen and bruised ankles,
sewed up lacerations on faces and arms, bound up broken ribs and sprained
wrists. She splinted a few broken fingers and extracted a few loose teeth. All
in all, the players came out of the Little Brother of War relatively unscathed.

Later that evening they celebrated with a
big feast. Pigs had been roasting all day in pits tended by Joseph Lancaster
and a crew of women from the church. There was a mountain of salmon and a flock
of grilled turkeys, along with squash, corn, green beans, and all the cider one
could drink. For dessert, there were cakes, pies, and churns and churns of ice
cream.

V
ivid awakened to fire. She struggled out of bed coughing from the
smoke clogging her lungs and staggered across the room. The thick smoke burned
her eyes and throat, blinding and gagging her even as she sought a way out,
stumbling through the open bedroom door. The heat and flames in the short hall
made her put her arm across her eyes. She hesitated a moment and looked around.
The whole house was ablaze; her kitchen, her front room. The flames looked to
be fed by winds as it buffeted against the wood logs of the walls. The heat and
roar were as intense as the fires of hell. She knew she had to get out or she
would die.

She forced herself to brave the flames,
moving as quickly as her weakened body would allow, to get to the entrance to
the tunnel below the cabin. She took off her gown and used it to wrap her hands
as she felt for the small ringer hole in the blazing floor. She screamed as hot
tongues licked at her hands and arms, but she forced herself to open the small
panel and crawl inside. The cool darkness and the sensation of falling were the
last things she remembered.

When Vivid opened her eyes again she was in
a shadow-filled room. She thought she heard Nate's voice but closed her eyes
again and went back to sleep.

The next time Vivid opened her eyes, she
drew in a deep breath, only to feel her lungs burn, and she coughed.

"Here, drink this. Slowly, Trabrasera,"
she heard her mama say in Castilian.

Vivid sipped the cool water, then sank
back into the pillows mounded beneath her. As the haze of sleep faded, she
turned her head and gazed into the happy, teary eyes of her mother.
"Hello, Mama," she croaked, then began to cough again.

She took another sip of water and when the
spasm passed heard her mother say, "You need to rest your throat. Don't
talk."

"My house?" Vivid rasped.

"Gone, sweetheart, everything
gone."

Vivid cried then, silent tears that ran
down her face unstaunched.

Francesca said softly, "That is
terrible news, I know, but you are alive. Be thankful, my youngest, not sad.
What money can buy, money can replace. But your life, that is priceless."

Her mother kissed her softly on the
forehead, then laid her cheek there a moment. "Go to sleep now. Everything
will be fine, I promise you."

Vivid awakened again after dark. She could
see her mother seated near a lamp reading a newspaper. Vivid stared at the
lamp's dancing flame and for a moment she felt terror. She closed her eyes and
forced away the terrible memory.