“You ever heard of John Trudell?” Dwayne asked Sonny Ray
Sonny Ray cocked his head
slightly to the side,
and said teasingly,
“Author, poet, musician, actor, lakota activist, and intellectual John Trudell? Even us hawaiians know who John Trudell is cuz,” Sonny Ray said, smiling broadly. Dwayne raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised, for some reason.
“Aw crap,” Dwayne said in disgust. “What is it?” Sonny Ray glanced over at Dwayne. “Federalizes,” Dwayne said, glancing in his rear view mirror.
Officer Bob sat in his cruiser, lights flashing. After calling in his stop he ran Dwayne’s plates, even though he knew they were clean. Anything he could do to piss off Notah he went the extra mile. “Protect and Serve my ass,” officer Bob mumbled to himself. He grabbed his minority ticket dispenser and exited his cruiser. “Well if if ain’t Dwayne the pain Notah, how you doing boy?” Officer Bob asked, placing his hand on the top of the car. “Morning officer Bob,” Dwayne replied. “That’s officer Fritz to you Indian,” Bob said, snappy now. Officer Bob glanced over at Sonny Ray. “What’s your name jackass?” “Sonny Ray Willetto.” “Now what kind of name is that for a harwaiian?” “It’s a uh hapa haole kind of name,” Sonny Ray replied.
“A hapa kappa what jackass?” Officer Bob shot back. “It is a half breed kind of name I guess officer,” Sonny Ray said with slow deliberation. “Oh, well why didn’t you say so there harwaiian boy?” Officer Bob spit some tobacco at his feet.
“I believe I did there jackass,” Sonny Ray said, unable to play the game any longer. Officer Bob walked around to the passenger side of the jeep, approaching the door. “Out.” Officer Bob commanded. Sonny Ray complied, and stepped out of the vehicle. Officer Bob grabbed the suspect and subdued said subject against the hood of police vehicle. Another words, he was pissed off at a minority for giving him some lip. Sonny Ray allowed himself to be handcuffed and sat quietly in the back of the cruiser. ‘He better be glad he met me, and not my brother Whisper,’ Sonny Ray thought, with a wry smile on his face. Officer Bob was steaming. It wasn’t often that a minority mouthed off to him. This Sonny Ray didn’t even seem afraid of him, and that infuriated him. Officer Bob had been contemplating a vacation to Harwaii, but now he was having second thoughts. This here harwaiian was near as mouthy as that Navajo Notah. Officer Bob had an irrational fear of indigenous people. Like most people who harbored prejudiced feelings towards others, this fear appeared to be the common denominator that fed the hollow leg of Officer Bob’s ignorance. Officer Bob was so steamed he forgot what group he was hating on, but it didn’t matter, as long as he could vent, and make his feelings known. “We should have wiped out all you sons of bitches at the battle of the little big horn,” officer Bob said, seething now.
Sonny Ray turned toward officer Bob, who stood defiantly at the right rear window of his cruiser. “You know officer I am not exactly a historian or anything, but I believe you guys kind of lost the big horn thing. Just saying.
I believe you are referring to the Wounded Knee Massacre. You know where all the brave blue coats shot down women, children, babies, old people and whatnot.” Officer Bob now glared at Sonny Ray through his rear view mirror. Bob detested the word whatnot.
Sonny Ray said the word because he knew for some strange reason many cops hated the word.
“Beat it Notah,” officer Bob said. The officer shot Dwayne a pudgy left handed middle finger, as he drove away. After calling the station, he headed into town to process the prisoner at the city jail. Officer Bob had only traveled a few blocks when another call came in. There was a tractor trailer roll over on the off ramp coming into Antelope Springs. There were several injuries, and a possible fatality.
Officer Bob turned his indicator on, and pulled off onto the shoulder of the road. Officer Bob stood on a greasy grassy knoll. He pulled Sonny Ray roughly from the vehicle. As Sonny Ray tried to regain his balance officer Bob shoved him down a small incline. Sonny Ray rolled several rotations before coming to a stop. Officer Bob looked around briefly. He labored as he navigated down the small but steep hill. Sonny Ray attempted to get to his feet. As he got to one knee officer Bob kicked the prisoner right in his stomach. Sonny Ray grunted, the breath being knocked out of his lungs. “That was for me, and this one,” officer Bob said pausing, “this is for General George Armstrong Custer!” Officer Bob said screaming now, as he kicked Sonny Ray on the right side of his rib cage. Sonny Ray could not respond, but if he could he would have let officer Bob know that he was pretty sure Custer was a Lt. Colonel prior to getting his ass handed to him.
Not to mention the complimentary indigenous ear exam he received.
Sonny Ray could not breathe.
Officer Bob grabbed Sonny Ray by the hair and turned him on his side so he could get his handcuffs. He stood over Sonny Ray, his belly a shadow on Sonny Ray’s face. “Not so smart now are you pineapple?” Officer Bob snorted. “That’s twice I have been called off you boy.” Officer Bob secured his handcuffs, and prepared to leave when a shadow fell near officer Bob’s face. In his peripheral vision he could see something closing in on him. Instinctively, he moved away, falling to the ground near Sonny Ray. He stood quickly, looking at the tree line. He turned to scan the immediate area; as he did the large black eagle dove at his head, it’s claw making contact with the temple of officer Bob. The black eagle soared skyward, screeching loudly now. “Son of a bi…” Officer Bob yelled, reaching for the blood leaking down his face. A three inch gash set Bob in a panic now. Blood continued to drip down the side of his face. He rolled onto his beer belly, scrambling to get to his feet. The black eagle circled again. Officer Bob saw the large predator.
The large black eagle could breathe.
Officer Bob hightailed it to his cruiser, and got the hell out of there. Sonny Ray rolled onto his back, as air slowly and mercifully began to fill his lungs. He looked around in a yellow haze. A large shadow crossed over his body as he lay there in the tall grass. Sonny Ray could hear the furious sound of wings fluttering near the tall ponderosa pines. He raised his head weakly, only to discover a very large predator staring attentively at him. Sonny Ray looked at the black bird again, blinking a few times, trying to get his focus back. He put his head down, opting to concentrate on his breathing. He closed his eyes for a few moments. He felt nauseated, and dizzy. Sonny Ray opened his eyes again. He wondered if he had imagined the large raptorial bird. Without warning the large black eagle took to flight. Sonny Ray raised his head, watching the black eagle as it glided over the towering tree line.
The last thing he remembered before passing out, was the day his friend Shane had died in the sky.
As his eyes began to roll back in his head he recalled a large black eagle as it flew with a small branch in it’s mouth.
Sonny Ray lay in the tall grass passed out. The black eagle dream sat perched high on the centuries old pine tree. It’s eyes pierced the soul of the unconscious Sonny Ray. After today this young man would never have a night of sleep where he did not travel between what it was he knew, and what it was he would see; in the subconscious, and spirit world of the black eagle dream.