The Last Indian

Автор:  Anastasia

Открыть фик целиком в отдельном окне

Stars were bright in the dark sky and Little Moon could see all of them clearly. She remembered Wolf Man telling her about the gods, the great Manitou, living up there, in a world that was called "heaven" by the Whites. Her whole tribe, the rest of what has been Sauks, hated Whites, but Little Moon saw no harm in them. She patiently listened to the stories the elders told, about the cruel Whites, who destroyed their culture, but Little Moon somehow didn't care which way Whites were, as long as Steve Hopkins dated her. He was the reason she was waiting in the darkness now, at the border between the reservation and a small town, Winchfield, in Maryland.

Well, the white girls were stupid enough to be afraid of darkness and of the animals hiding in the woods. Little Moon was not that silly, she knew and respected the laws of nature and she has never been afraid of darkness. Though sometimes mocking her superstitious folk, she nevertheless believed that the good spirits of Earth would protect her from evil. As for the Whites… well, they missed a chance to be with Steve who seemed to be as daring as his date.

Little Moon didn't have a watch but she knew that something was preventing Steve from coming; it was unusual for him to be that late.

She just sat and watched the sky. Why did Whites say stars didn't move? Of course, they do and she could tell the hour just watching them. It was one of the advantages of being an Indian. Of course, you don't have running water or electricity, the elders reject it, but nature is sometimes more fascinating than any invention of humans, Little Moon thought. The elders were right. If not always, then at least sometimes.

She waited another half an hour but Steve didn't come. Little Moon started to walk home as she heard someone's footsteps behind her. She turned around but saw nothing but darkness. She shrugged: she wasn't scared that easily, just curious who could be walking at such ungodly hour. Perhaps some another Sauk girl, dating a White but it was not possible. She'd have known. Little Moon quickened her steps. She had to hurry, otherwise her family would know that something was on and that was the last thing she wanted. The steps behind her back quickened as well and then suddenly Little Moon felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She shrieked and span around, facing an old man behind her.

"Don't be afraid, little girl," the voice in the Language told her. Little Moon was numb with shock but still she understood he spoke a very old language. The kind the elders spoke when they prayed.

"Who are you?" she managed.

"I'm Silver Cloud, the last Indian," the answer was, "the last shaman. My soul wouldn't find peace until there are white people on this land, robbing the tribes, killing Indians."

Little Moon sighed, exasperated. She wasn't afraid now; just irritated some crazy old man would halt her.

"Take me to your shaman," he asked the girl, "before it is too late."

"We don't have a shaman," Little Moon replied, "just the elders. But if you insist…"

She didn't finish for as she again turned to face the old man, the latter was gone. Disappeared in the darkness and the rising mist.

Little Moon sighed: these old people, they behaved really strange. She returned to the road and continued her journey, angry that now she'd surely be seen.

But nothing like this happened. Next morning as Little Moon woke up, the whole camp was moving and shouting. She sleepily crept out of her bed and went to the street. Everywhere her own people were to be seen, accompanied by the Whites and - Little Moon froze - police.

"What's on?" she asked a little boy, who ran past her.

"Don't you know? They found a dead white, not far from the reservation," he answered and sped along before she could ask for details.

Little Moon followed the direction in which everyone seemed to be going. It was then she saw a body on the earth, circled by the police and the elders. She choked: the guy lying there was Steve!

"Steve, Steven," she sobbed in English, forcing her way through the crowd, "Steve, what happened to you?"

She touched his cold hands and knew at once he was dead. She still couldn't let his hand go. "Please, Steve, please, don't be dead!"

The policemen looked down on her.

"You knew him?" one of them asked rudely.

The other added gently: "You see, girly, he was found dead two hours ago and no one has seen the murderer. Do you know something about it?"

Little Moon shook her head: "No, I don't. I was a friend of him, it's true and we met several times but I knew nothing about his friends. Or about his enemies."

She knew the elders would be angry with her, firstly for dating Steve and secondly for admitting it, but she also knew she had to say the whole truth. It was the least she owed Steve.

The ruder policeman shrugged: "Archie, don't you see that she knows nothing about the guy? Just wishing to be in the spotlight for a while. We won't get something out of her."

He turned to Little Moon: "Go away, we don't want too many people around."

The one called Archie looked at her with some compassion: "If you can help us, just call me, ok?" He handed her a card: "And please make sure that it's me who you're talking with, right?"

Little Moon nodded and clutching the card left Steve's body. Though reluctant to go, she knew she had to; otherwise she would attract too much attention. She only hoped the elders didn't understand what was going on so that they wouldn't scold.

She didn't even remember the strange man she met at night, he remained a shadowy figure in her memory.

Four months later.

"Andy, come back," Silvia cried to her boy - friend, trying to catch hold of him, "Andy, wait, please! You've got no right to go to the reservation! Andy!"

But he wouldn't listen. He was so obsessed with the thought to visit the reservation, to see what the Indians were doing within.

Silvia finally lost track of him and sat down to a stone. It was a cold January day but she was sweating from the exertion, exhausted from a long run. So she just sat and stared ahead. For a moment she looked up but the sky was clouded and promised more snow so she returned the gaze to the road, hoping she'd soon see Andy and they return home together.

Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her and as she span around, ready to see Andy, she faced an old Indian. He was probably very old, weather beaten skin pergameneous, long white hair falling down his shoulders. He was dressed strangely in what Silvia later called "rags" but then she wasn't knowledgeable about Indian way of life. The strange man asked her something.

Silvia shrugged: "Sorry, I don't speak your language, old man, but you'd better return to the reservation, cops don't like you running around."

The man didn't say anything else, just stood there and stared at her.

"Go away or I'll call the police!" Silvia threatened, unnerved. He didn't move. Then spoke slowly and deliberately: "It is the land of the Sauks. I am Silver Cloud, the last Indian. And I will make the white barbarians return me our land."

Of course it was said in a long forgotten language and Silvia couldn't understand it. But nevertheless she shivered, suddenly frightened.

"Andy?" she called, wishing he were there.

As she turned around, the Indian was gone.

"Silv," there Andy came, running, "you can't imagine such a fun it is! But you look…" he didn't finish, suddenly grasping for air and sinking to the ground. "Silv, I'm choking," he whispered with last strength, "what's happening? Please, Silv, help!"