Rise of the Death Walkers (The Circle of Heritage Saga) (2 page)

I heard someone clear their throat behind me and say. “I’ll do it you Indian scum.” I turned around and saw eighteen year old Joe Woddard. Inwards I groaned because he was always trying to goad me into a fight.

“Fine, Joe, you go ahead and pick first.” I’d try my best to prevent what was bound to happen from actually happening. I stopped cold when I saw Roger approaching us in the distance.

Joe Woddard was a dropout from high school who spent half of his time during the day in the same bar that Roger sat in. Roger seemed to like him and he’d told me more than once he wished that I was more like Joe. “That’s fine I’ll take the O’Donnels and we’ll wipe the ground with you bunch of Indian trash. You can even have first at bat.”

I didn’t like the division he chosen, but rather than spark a conflict I nodded and looked over at my sister. “Jenna you can have first bat followed by the twins. I’ll bat cleanup and Ricky last.” We only had five of us on our team and there were six on his, all older than I was. Jenna stepped up to the homemade home plate as the others headed out to the field. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Roger seated on the ground chugging a beer he had brought along. I put him out of my mind turned my attention to the game. I knew if I had risen any objections to Joe joining the game we would have never been able to start one.

It happened in the third inning. We were two down, with two on base when I came up to bat. The birthmark on my left hand had started itching and now began to burn lightly. It was a bit distracting but I stepped up to the plate and waited for the pitch. My concentration was intense and I barely noticed the muffling of the sounds from the field. I tuned out the taunts and the leering from the outfield as I waited for the pitch. Strangely it seemed like the ball, when the pitcher released it, came toward the home plate in slow motion. A drop of sweat trailed down my light copper brown skin. I swung at what I believed was the proper time and the thunderous crack of my bat hitting the ball startled me. I stared in shock as the ball took off in a higher arch than I’ve ever seen one go before. The ball headed over the tall trees at the end of the little park and kept going. It passed the mark that is considered a home run and kept going. I just stood there with a slack jaw as I watched the ball. When it finally landed, it dropped near the tennis court a full quarter of a mile away and bounced once, landing inside the tennis courts.

“How’d you do that?” I heard my sister ask . I shook my head because I had no idea how I did it.

I was aware of the angry buzz from the outfield and am surprised when I hear Joe snarl. “He cheated, he had to cheat, there’s no way someone as puny as he is could hit the ball that far.”

I backed up when Joe headed in my direction. His face is contorted in anger. I bumped into Roger who had stood up and faced the incoming angry Joe. “Back down Joe, the home run was legal and you know that.”

“I see Roger so you’re standing up for that crap half breed now aren't you.” Joe snarls heading still in my direction.

“I’m standing up for no body and this is no way to act about a game. But if it’s a fight you are looking for I’m sure Jason can accommodate you there.” He pushed me toward Joe and I look up into the older kids face in terror. He stood a foot taller than I did and had at least eighty pounds on me.

When Joe started swinging something snapped inside me. The birthmark on my hand was burning now and I saw everything through a wash of red in my eyes. I put up my hand, grabbed the fist that was coming at me. I stopped it cold before it hit me. The tendons on my arms stood out in strain to the force that my arm absorbed. I started shaking in anger. I flexed my right hand and doubled it into a fist. Squeezing with my left hand I heard clearly bones breaking in Joe’s fist and I swung. When I hit Joe’s jaw, I felt it give in protest and didn’t stop to see as he crumbled to the ground. The next face showed up my vision. One of the O’Donnel kids tried to hold me from behind while another swung at me. I kicked the one in front of me in the chin, grabbed the other ones’ head in a reverse headlock and dropped to the ground. The impact of the kid’s head on the ground fueled my fury as Joe was back, trying to kick me in the side. I jumped back to my feet and swung my leg in a takedown sweep. The sound of bone cracking once again filled the air. Not finding any other adversary, I spun around and began advancing toward Roger. Years of pent up fury were burning in my veins as I approached him. I was beyond reason. I only saw the object of my hate in front of me. The person responsible for my mother's meek manner. The man who caused her to flinch every time he raised his hand. I could see fear building in his eyes as I draw closer to him then anger replaced the fear. He drew his hand into the motion that would become his favorite backhand and he hit me across the face. I barely flinched when he struck me. I growled. “You’ll NEVER raise your hand to my mother or my family EVER again.” I drew back and hit him in the face. I could hear bones crunching in his face and nose when I struck him and watched as he dropped like a stone and hit the ground. Fury spent. I turned back to my brothers and sister and said calmly. “Gather the gear and let’s go home for dinner.”

Chapter 2 - Changes

Several weeks later after we moved to the farm, I was arguing with my mother about the plans she had for me. Since the day I flipped and broke Roger’s face, he’d been terrified of me. He’d not laid a hand on any of my family. My mother wanted to send me to live with my grandfather on the reservation. I didn’t want to leave her alone in the house with Roger. I feared that he would retaliate after what I’d done to him. It was funny to watch him almost tiptoe around me when he entered a room.

“Mom, why are you trying to send me to my grandfather all the time?”

She cleared her throat and said softly, “I promised my father when you were born that, when the time came I’d send you to him so you could learn about your heritage.”

I snorted at her. “I doubt anyone on the reservation wants some half-breed mongrel underfoot.”

I was startled when she backhanded me as I said that, “You’re NOT a half-breed mongrel. Yes I married your father against the wishes of my father but you have as much right to be on that reservation as any of the young Indians. You’re in fact a direct descendant of the last tribal chief. That much is in your blood. Even if it’s tainted by a white man’s blood.”

I rubbed my cheek and stared back at her, “Our family has not been elected to the position of chief for two generations now. What chance do you think I’d ever have to gain acceptance in the tribe?”

“Your grandmother is still the Great-mother of the tribe. Who’s made chief is, by tradition, at her discretion. It’s your blood right is all I can say. Anything further has to come from your grandfather. This election garbage goes against a tradition that existed in our tribe for more than one thousand years.” She smiled softly at me. “You’ll be going to your grandfather next week. You’ll remain there until you finish high school. That’s my final word.”

Roger had sat through the conversation with a smirk on his face and I turned on him, “Don’t think if I go to my grandfather’s like my mother asks of me, that you can do what you were doing before.” I shook my fist at him. “You lay one hand on her or my brothers and sister and I hear of it. I’ll come back her and gut you like the dog you are.”

Roger tried to back further away from me. He was unable to go any further because his back was already against the wall.

My mother pleaded, “Jason, please...”

I turned back to my mother and softened my tone. “Alright mother if that’s your wish, call Grandpa Sam. Tell him I’ll be ready to go with him.”

My mother smiled and said softly, “I’ll do that. One thing I insisted on is that you still be allowed to go to Massena Central. You’ll be getting your permit on the reservation as soon as your birthday passes. Your grandfather has already picked a car for you.”

“But mother I have to be sixteen to get a driver's permit in New York State.” I reminded her.

“Not on the reservation you don’t. There are certain exceptions that can be granted. Your grandfather has already received sanction from the tribal counsel.” She came to me and put her arms around me. “Now be a good boy. Go to your room and start packing. Your grandfather will be here in an hour.”

“But mom you said in a week!” I shot a dirty look at her.

“I told a little white lie. Your grandfather wants the rest of the summer to begin your training.” She smiled sheepishly. Her eyes however told another story. She had a very determined look in them.

I was muttering dark things on the way up to my room. “Ricky!” I called out to my nine year old brother. “Pack your stuff you’re getting your own room!”

I heard his wild cowboy yell and smiled.

My sister Jenna, who was thirteen, frowned as I passed through her room into the back room where I slept. My youngest brother Charles, who was seven, sat on my bed, a dark look on his face. “What are you so down about squirt?”

“Do you have to leave, Jason?” He looked up at me with puppy dog eyes.

“Yes I do Charles, but you’ll be ok.” I picked him up from the bed and hugged him. Then I whispered in his ear. “I put a flea in the ear of that dog Roger that I’d still be watching him, so don’t worry about anything. Ok?”

He nodded silently at me then said softly, “I’ll miss you Jason.” I let him down and he scrambled through Jenna’s bedroom, stopping only to stick his tongue out at her.

I heard her giggle at him, then heard her soft footfall in my doorway. “Jason?” I heard the soft tone of her voice, which was laced with apprehension. “What’ll I do without you here? He was looking at me that way again.”

I stiffened as she said this. The last time she had tried to tell me what Roger was doing to her. She had had a hard time trying to describe things. I could only guess what she meant. I walked to my dresser and removed something from it. Turning around I slipped my father's old hunting knife into her hand and whispered in her ear. “If he bothers you, then don’t be afraid to use it, sis.” I bent and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to miss you kiddo. But don’t worry, I just heard that I’ll be getting my permit and a car of my own, so I’ll visit you whenever I can. Do well in school. You know I’ll be watching out for you.”

She slipped her arms around me and started sobbing softly. “I’m going to miss you so much Jason. You’re the best big brother anyone can have.” After she said that, she slipped back into her bedroom and picked up the book she had been reading.

I sat down on my bed hard. How I could do this to them. I was leaving them when they needed me the most. The tears started trailing down my cheeks. I heard a gruff sound of a throat being cleared and spotted my Grandpa Sam standing in my door. “Jason,” His voice was as soft yet powerful as I remember from my younger days. “Emotions run strong in our family. Never be afraid to show them.” He put out his arms and I ran into them sobbing. “There, young Pasche.” He used the nick name he had given me when I was little and still bouncing on his knee. “It is your time to return to the tribe. Your family will be safe here. I have no doubt you have seen to this.” I stiffened and wondered how long he had been standing upstairs listening. I looked at him. There was a smile in his eyes. “Old eyes do not miss anything my young Pasche. Come it is time to go home. Your grandmother is waiting for us with dinner and then she will show you to the tribal elders.”

“Grandma will show me to the elders? How come it’s not you doing this Grandpa?” I asked in astonishment.

“In our tribe Pasche the Great Mother has been the voice of authority for thousands of years. Even in recent times with these so called elections the Great Mother chose those who would be voted for.” He paused for a moment and lifted my left hand. “There are signs now that we must revert to old ways in order to protect our people.” His thumb rubbed lightly on my birthmark. And I noticed for the first time he had a grouping of two diamonds on his left hand in the same place as mine.

I rubbed my smaller thumb on his birthmark and asked “What do these mean, Grandfather?”

“You will find out when you are ready, Pasche. First we need to say goodbye to your mother and,” his voice grew rough, “the pale face she chooses to be with.” I followed him down stairs with one bag in my hand. When we got downstairs he said gruffly to Roger. “Paleface, get the boys bags and put them in the truck….now!” He turned to my mother and said. “Kira, thank you for allowing Pasche to come stay with me. It is important he learn our heritage and his part in it.”

I saw my mother nod at him and she said. “I made you a promise Father and as Mother taught me, promises are kept.” My grandfather bowed his head and stepped forward to kiss my mother on the top of her head. “Pasche let us go. I want to talk to paleface before we leave.”

We both went outside. I got into my grandfathers old truck. I watched my grandfather approach Roger and reach out to him. My grandfather was not small by any means. He stood six foot five and was a broad as a bear. I watched fascinated as my grandfather grabbed Roger by the shirt and lifted him up off the ground a full foot before slamming him against the house. He moved his face close to Roger’s and sneered at him. “We are watching you white man. If my daughter or grandchildren are hurt by you or any of your friends, you will have every member of the six nations after you. There is no place where you could run or hide from us.” He slammed him against the wall again and I grinned as a trail of wet started to show on Roger’s jeans. My grandfather dropped him and turned back to me with a grin on his face. As he got in the truck he said in a low voice to me. “And that, Pasche, is how you scare the piss out of a white weasel.”

I had a satisfied smile on my face as we turned around and drove out of the long driveway that led from the main highway to the place which had been, for a short time, my new home outside of Massena. As we reached the main road and turned toward the reservation, I realized that my old life was behind me. I knew that I was on the path to my new life and a brighter future. I would be learning more about my heritage and, little did I know, I would learn that my life was pre-planned and that I had a destiny to fulfill.