Merrick

Cloud Dancers funeral was held, if that’s the right word, in a large loft in Greenwich

Village. Shona gave me the directions, said she had to be there with the women to

prepare the food.

How do you dress? If you’re a white eyes.

With care I guess.

I wore dark chino’s, white shirt, black tie. If it were an Irish wedding, you’d bring a Mass

card and a bottle/flask. I stuffed cash in an envelope. If the kid had family?

I got there to discover they had already had the burial and Crow, taking me aside, said

‘No offence but you’re an outsider.’

Like being Irish was carte blanche to life?

Jesus, not even in Ireland.

The loft was massive, on one side, the women were lined, wearing traditional costume.

The men wore the gear too. I felt like I was in the movie ‘Soldier Blue.’

Shona came and held my hand, said

‘After, we’ll go somewhere.’

Returned to the women. Fook, there a mountain of food. Crow, who seemed to have

been

designated my mentor, said

‘I will explain the food later, we don’t want you eating raw liver by mistake.’

He nearly smiled, continued

‘Cloud Dancing is buried in the Wichita Mountains, among his ancestors, the caves there

hold our spirits.’

A young Indian approached, offered Crow something, he took it, asked

‘Like some Peyote?’

He explained it was made from cactus, and had powerful halogens. I said

‘Maybe later.’

Crow called to one of the women and she appeared a moment later with a long neck and a

tumbler of Bourbon. I started to get on the other side of that as the feast began, I kid you

not, a steady drumming started and some of the women began to dance.

The sound of

rattles, the drum beating seemed to be monotonous first and I thought, worse than Musak.

Then they added the chanting.

I’d barely

Registered that you know? But it started to sound different, meaningful.

The bourbon helped and shite, if I’d had the peyote, I’d have been out on the floor with

the

dancers, doing a very poor, Irish jig.

Crow had a gourd rattle and was steadily rattling it in time to the drums, almost without

knowing it.

The food was laid out on long wooden tables,

Boiled meat

Corn

Macaroni cheese

The afore mentioned raw liver.

To honor the buffalo said Crow.

Every time I drained my glass, it was instantly replaced by another. No complaints from

me and The Texas Long necks were sliding down real easy.

Crow said, listening to the drum

‘The dance is low energy movement, for the powwow, it will continue for up to twelve

Hours’.

He laughed out loud, at my expression of horror, I didn’t know that at an Indian

ceremony, laughter, crude jokes are not only tolerated but encouraged. A shout of

celebration against death.

Assured me

‘Shona will rescue you before then.’

No wonder I felt at home and I did.

Crow said

‘Our last ceremony was something, we had it in the baseball court, outdoors, where the

spirit belongs but the cops busted us.’

I remembered to pass over the envelope. Crow asked

‘You know about giveaways, to give something to honor a family?’

Nope.

But I got the drift.

He looked in the envelope, back home, that would be regarded as rude but for the

Indians, pure curiosity.

He gasped, said

‘This is a month’s wages, you risked your life for this?’

I said, truthfully

‘I liked the kid, a lot.’

He touched my shoulder, said

‘Ryan, for a white eyes, you have many Indian traits.’

Didn’t elaborate.

‘Come.’

Led me over to a large coal brazier, I wondered about the Fire department. Crow handed

me a plastic bag, said

‘Dried cedar sprigs, sprinkle them on the coals.’

A woman behind him handed him a fan, he put it in my hands, said

‘Eagle wing, wave it over the coals.’

Fook, I did.

Crow spoke some words as I did so. I should have felt like a horse’s arse but it seemed

right. He threw a pair of moccasin’s on the coals, said

‘Cloud Dancer will not be barefoot because you give him those.’

Okay?

A little later, Crow handed me a huge steak sandwich, fries on the side, laughed, said

‘It’s not Buffalo, it’s to soak up the booze.’

I said

‘I’d have eaten Buffalo.’

He gave me a long look, said

‘That I true believe my friend.’

I’ve no idea when Shona came, took my hand, said

‘There is a room below the loft.’

I said, no idea what this meant

‘There is?’

She laughed, those Indians sure laughed a lot, said

‘We need to make love, to celebrate Cloud’s Dancer arrival among his tribe.’

Worked for me.