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Prologue
Oraibi, Athabasca Territory,
Akwesasne (1917)
The usual warm climate today was more crisp than previous days. There was not a cloud in the sky, the sun beamed down brighter than a thousand camp fires and the dusty red sands of Athabasca was being tossed around by the stern wind of God's breath. Oraibi was a very small town - once an Apache village which grew into an important mining community after copper had been discovered in southeastern Akwesasne a few years back.
A thin older man with a gray bear and chewing tobacco sat quietly on his rocking chair in the quaint little neighborhood where the church stood tall. He played his harmonica all day long and watched as the different kinds of people walked past his home. On this particular crisp sunday, he watched as the various families in Oraibi left the church after the service had ended. Billy James, a young lad no older than thirteen, undid his tie and loosened his shirt as he, his eight-year old sister and parents left the House of God. Not far from the James family were the Mallicks. The Mallicks were not like the James' in the sense that they weren't 'white people' but aboriginal, or 'native' as they were often called. Nevertheless, despite tension between the two races nation-wide in 1917, little Billy and the Mallick's thirteen-year old son Dean found the time to spend together and develop a successful childhood friendship.
"Can I please go find Dean now?" Billy asked as he tugged his mother's Sunday skirt. He smiled as she did not take too keen to the Mallicks.
"Don't you remember telling your sister you'd take her pony riding today?" his mother argued. Billy looked at his sister Sara who proceeded to sticking out her tongue towards her brother. His father then stepped in,
"If you take your sister with you, you kids can go play with Dean as much as you'd like."
"Thanks dad!" the boy hugged his father and then did the same to his mother - who didn't look very impressed with her husband. "Come on Sara, let's go find Dean." He ordered and sprinted into the church crowd. Sara followed him as best as she could - crying out "wait for me!" Billy's mother turned to her husband after the children left and shook her head.
"You know one of these days our boy is gonna come home skinned-dead by those savages." she complained. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and kissed his wife's neck.
"Don't you worry none. They're jus' kids having fun Margaret. You only get one childhood." He tried to soften the situation as best as he could. She shrugged and moaned.
"Fine. But if they come back with another one o' them damn Red Skin necklaces or feathered hats, I'm slamming my foot down, right then and there." she warned as both parents watched the children leave over the horizon having found Dean Mallick.
Now far from church and the small neighborhood enclosing it, Billy, his sister Sara and his aboriginal friend Dean wandered about in the open fields that Oraibi had to offer to them. They skipped, they laughed and they played and decided to make their way to the creek to do some Bull Frog hunting - a favorite activity amongst the young populace in town. The creek wasn't big, but there was plenty of good hunting for the children.
"Billy, come have a look at this!" Dean said while reaching into his pocket.
"What is that?" Billy asked as he huddled around his friend. Sara, being young and curious, tried to wedge her way into the circle to see what the commotion was. "Is that a real arrow head?" she asked. Dean held an antique arrow head which he was under the impression by his grandfather belonged to his family for generations now.
"My grandpa gave it to me yesterday when he stopped in to see us from Tallcree." Dean explained. The kids stood in awe of the artifact that would be nothing of a big deal to any adult around. Scenarios on how it may have been used years ago ran through their young imaginations as they gazed at the arrow head. Quickly, Dean stashed it back into his pocket. "Come one now." He said, "Them Bull Frogs ain't gonna catch 'emselves."
The kids ventured farther into the woods following the creek down the line. Dean, who considered himself experienced in nature for a thirteen-year old boy, lead the small pack further and further forward. He seemed very keen and sure about the direction he was headed towards.
"Dean, where are we going?" Sara complained after walking miles in her moccasins. Billy held out his hand and pulled her forward so she could catch up to them.
"Yeah Dean, this is getting very tiresome." Billy confirmed. Dean turned to them and smiled - still walking - and he stopped abruptly. "Why did we stop?" asked Billy.
"Because, look..." Dean pointed in the distance. Past a band of shrubs and tall trees, there stood a small wooden house with smoke billowing out of the chimney. There was an old wigwam erected not far from the shack, with a close-line near it and an outhouse. In these times, it was all a man ever really needed to survive.
"Oh no Dean, this is someone's property, we really shouldn't be here." Billy, the worrier, warned. Dean shook his head and chuckled.
"Ah come on Billy! Don't play dumb when your sister's here - we've always wanted to check out where Big Raven lives." he said.
"Who's Big Raven?" Sara asked. Billy looked at her, seemingly annoyed.
"Never you mind now Sara. We're going to turn back and go home." Billy decided. But his decision was cast aside as Dean simply shrugged and marched on ahead, crouched over, towards this Big Raven's alleged home. "Dean! What are you doing? Dean get back....Ugh!" Billy, now very annoyed, moaned. He took his sister by the hand and hunched over behind his friend. "If we get caught, I am not taking the blame for you this time Dean."
The house stood on a slight slant and the windows were quite filthy. The frames which had windows, anyway. The three kids were all crouched over and snuck around the side of the house to try and gain a peek on who or what was inside. Big Raven was almost a folk tale in Oraibi. It was said he was part man and part wild bear - a large individual who did not like normal society and loved his privacy and seclusion. "Do you see anything?" Sara asked Dean who peered through the window. Billy stood farther down the side of the house and refused, or was too shaken, to even look through the window.
"No I can't. The window's too dng dusty!" He answered back. Billy could then hear something in the close-distance. A crackling noise of two massive feet walking on old wooden floor-boards.
"Guys... Guys get down, I think he's coming outside." He whispered as he huddled closer to his sister on the side of the house. The big door opened slowly and out came Big Raven. To the small eyes of the children, this was a large man. In reality, Big Raven was a full-blooded Native-Akwi - with skin as red as a pickup truck and long black hair tied into a ponytail pending down to his lower back. He must've weighed, at least, 400 lbs maybe even more and his footsteps could send a vibration in the most solid of structures. The burly injun made his way out of his house with his slow waddle. In one hand, he had a meat-cleaver which frightened the kids. "Oh no, he knows we're here." Billy worried.
"He's going to eat us!" Sara's young mined vocalized. Even brave Dean stood there and nearly pissed himself. When all else couldn't go any worse for the clan, Sara, fearing her own life, began to hysterically cry.
"Dang-it! Shut her up!" Dean whispered angrily. "He'll see us!" But it was too late. Big Raven's head turned towards the noise abruptly revealing his older, red and wrinkled face. He had one large claw mark barrel down his left eye rendering it as white as the moon at night. When he turned and walked towards the kids, this also revealed a dead rabbit in his other hand - explaining why he had a meat-cleaver. A bloody tree stump stood nearby where Big Raven usually killed and gutted his next meal. Animals of course, not children.
"This is it. We're gonna die..." Billy said as he and the others shut their eyes. They could hear the loud and vibrant footsteps come closer and closer to where they hid on the side of his home. Then they smelled smoke, and heard the clank of a rusty lighter.
"The hell are you kids doin' here?" They heard. Opening his eyes, Billy saw the monstrous man before him and could see the rabbit dangling from his left hand by the ears. The meat-clever had been dropped as Big Raven had now lit the smelliest Native cigarette and placed it in his mouth. His one good eye peered down at the crying girl. He then immediately put the rabbit on the stump and turned back to the frightened bunch. He rolled his eyes...well, eye, and sighed. He coughed violently. "Haven't your parents taught you not to wander off in these parts?" He briskly asked. The kids, still a little shaken, stood straight at this point.
"I'm sorry mister... We wandered just a little too far is all." Billy explained. Big Raven turned his attention towards Sara. A hard-hearted man, Big Raven felt like it was almost a chore to ask if she was alright.
"No need to cry young one." he reassured her. "The rabbit didn't suffer." he laughed as he enjoyed his cigarette further. Big Raven, without uttering a word, turned right around and made his way to a fire pit which had been dug in a few meters away from his wooden shack. Logs and rocks served as seating. The fire was still smoking from a previous burn. He crushed out his smoke and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he blew with all of nature's force on the fire pit which suddenly sparked a whole new burn. The kids stood with their jaws dropped. as they watched the old man sit beside his one-second creation. "Well?..." he looked back to them. "Don't just stand there! You there!" he pointed to Dean, "Bring that rabbit this way!" he ordered. Dean obliged without question. "And you!" now pointing to Billy. "The meat-cleaver!" ordering one more time. Billy and Sara together brought it to him. "Now sit down." he grunted. They all slowly took a seat around the fire as Big Raven began working on his rabbit - on a bloody flat rock this time.
The setting was very quiet as the intimidating large man skinned his rabbit without flinching or hesitation. Sara could barely look while the boys sat there in amazement. "Hey mister Raven." Sara gathered the courage to speak to the man. She must've been the size of his head - and not even. "Why do you live here all alone in the forest?" she asked. Big Raven placed his cleaver down and lit another smoke.
"Why? Does it seem unusual?" He retaliated with another question.
"Don't mind my sister mister Raven. She just doesn't understand so good is all." Billy explained.
"Well, it isn't all that unusual." He coughed. "My people...our people..." he uttered also looking towards Dean "...used to live in the wilderness for many many moons, young girl. This is where I am comfortable. This is where I belong."
"Well how come you're never at Church? You're gonna make baby Jesus cry." She innocently criticized him. Big Raven could no longer hold back and now actually smiled and laughed. Billy and Dean laughed as well as Sara sat down not understanding how adorable she'd just sounded.
"Many a white man and a red man go to Church, yes. But then there are those like myself who find their own way.
"I don't know sir." Billy said. "I've never seen one of me (referring to "whites") do anything as spontaneous as living out on our own. Nothing ever changes in Oraibi..." he hung his head and sighed. Big Raven perched up a brow.
"Then clearly you've never heard of John Grant." He said.
"Who's John Grant?" Dean asked.
"John Grant, the White Eagle? Infamous Outlaw of the southeast?" he asked over again - noticing no recollection from the children. "You've never heard of him?"
"No sir." Billy answered. Big Raven sighed once more and took a long drag from his home made cigarette. He grabbed a wooden bowl from behind his log and sprayed a variety of spice and ash into the flames. They rose higher and higher.
"Well then. I suppose it wouldn't heard to educate you a little. After all, it's a part of your homes history."