Sonny Ray was living in
Las Vegas, Nevada when his father died.
Sonny Ray and his family had arrived at the pow wow on the Paiute Reservation on Saturday evening.
It was the annual event for the Memorial Day weekend.
Sonny Ray was standing in line for some frybread when his phone rang.
It was his older brother Walter, calling from Arizona with some really bad news.
“Sonny Ray,” she called out softly, momentarily interrupting his thoughts. “Are you going to be all right?” Nikko, had taken their daughter, little Raye for a walk, and was not there when he had first taken the call. She was clearly shaken herself, but her concern now was for her husband.
After leaving the pow wow early, they headed home, exchanging occasional glances, and holding hands. Sonny Ray now stared straight ahead, hot stinging tears rolled slowly from his eyes. Nikko caressed his shoulders, gently rubbing the nape of his neck.
Little Raye lay fast asleep in the back seat of the car, as they continued south on interstate ninety five.
Sonny Ray was numb. He just wanted to get home to make some calls, and check on a flight to Tucson.
The following morning, Sonny Ray sat on the edge of his bed, thinking about the last conversation he had had with his father. He was packed and ready, waiting on the girls.
Sonny Ray sat on an emotional precipice, teetering on the edge but outwardly behaving like his life was; as it always had been.
“Sonny Ray can I get you something, are you ok?” Nikko asked again, pleading now more present in her voice. “Yeah, no I’m
fine,” Sonny Ray responded, trying to sound casual like he had been in a fender bender.
But like most people who find out unexpectedly, that someone that they love has died, there is a sudden queasy pain; like how it felt when you got sucker punched in the stomach by the neighborhood bully.
A dull uneasy feeling coursed through his body.
A feeling that literally wanted to make him curl up in a ball, and pretend he never heard the words. For Sonny Ray, guilt spread slowly over his body.
Just two months prior, Sonny Ray’s father Billy had called. He sat on his bed staring at the floor, his fathers question reverberating over and over
again in his mind.
‘Son, when are you going to come down and visit your old man?’
“Nikko I’m ready, can we go?”
Sonny Ray sat quietly, because he realized not even his dad dying could alter his wife’s perception about time. She always appeared preoccupied; searching for something, forgetting nothing.
Sonny Ray knew he had to keep his composure, as he was feeling emotionally unstable, since receiving the news about his father. Nikko pulled up to the terminal to drop her husband off. Sonny Ray held his five year old daughter little Raye in his arms. Nikko kissed Sonny Ray on the lips, and squeezed his hand gently.
“Don’t forget to feed Thunderheart,” Sonny Ray said trying to give his wife the stink eye. “Whatever Son,” Nikko said, feigning offense.
Nikko had forgotten to feed his horse one Saturday when he had went to Casa Grande, Arizona to ride a few bulls at Charlie Sampson’s bull riding school.
Over the years it had become their banter.
“Call me when you get a flight booked babe,” Sonny Ray said, as Nikko and little Raye drove away.
Sonny Ray grabbed his bag out of the overhead compartment, and stood quietly impatient like everyone else; desperate to get out of this confined space. His older brother Walter greeted him at the gate. They bear hugged and left the cool confines of the airport, venturing out into the warm Arizona night.
Sonny Ray and his family had migrated to Las Vegas two years previous. The two men had barely spoken. After a few miles Walter asked, “You feel like stopping at Johnny’s for something to eat?”
It was their old man’s favorite spot. “Sure, let’s go,” Sonny Ray replied.
“Mommy, when is my daddy coming home, huh when mommy?” Nikko smiled as she tucked her baby in for the night. “I don’t know baby your daddy has to help uncle Stewart with the funeral arrangements…” Nikko suddenly realized she was speaking to a five year old. “Daddy has to help uncle with grandpa’s things.” “What’s a funernull? What did you call it mommy?” “I called it goodnight little lady, mommy will talk to you more about it in the morning. Sleep tight. I love you.” Nikko kissed her baby on her cheeks, as was their custom. “Okay mommy, love you.”
Nikko finished the dishes and made herself a cup of chai tea. She sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a warm Pendleton blanket. She looked at the picture of her husband, and her brother in law Walter, in happier times. “I hope those two can keep it together,” Nikko thought out loud.
For two brothers who were really close at one time, they could be equally stubborn about a lot of shit. Typical petty guy shit. Nikko enjoyed her tea before heading off to a hot relaxing soak in the bath.
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A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 2“C’mon Son let’s get going,” Walter said, as he finished paying the cashier. “Hang on brother I gotta pee,” Sonny Ray replied. Walter stood there shaking his head at his younger brother. “I’ll meet you at the truck. Hurry up big coconut head boy,” Walter said smiling at his younger brother.
“I’m right behind you bruh.”
Sonny Ray soon exited their old man’s favorite restaurant, and headed down the sidewalk. As he looked to see where his brother was parked, he saw three young men standing around Walter in a semi circle.
The three men wore their Santa Rita High School letterman jackets, and by their collective size they looked to be football players.
Sonny Ray smiled. He was going to get his brother good. Sonny Ray walked by, pretending to be talking comically to Walter on the phone. The three men ignored the large brown man, choosing to focus on the frumpy thirty seven year old dude. Walter glanced at his brother, wondering what he was up to.
“Now listen guys, I assure you I am not mexican,” Walter said as he watched Sonny Ray approach the tri-squad of punks from behind. “Hey!,” Sonny Ray bellowed from behind, startling the three men. That always made Sonny Ray smile. He loved when people jumped like that.
“Hey guys is everything okay over here?”
Sonny Ray spoke to the four men like he was an overly concerned senior citizen.
This would be Sonny Ray’s one sincere attempt to diffuse the moment, so they could be on their way.
But if that didn’t work out; Sonny Ray was more than willing to put in some work, and beat somebody’s ass.
“Why can’t you mexicans just go back to where you belong?” the primary antagonist had asked, as he pointed a finger in Walter’s face.
The biggest guy among the three assumed the position of spokesman. Sonny Ray approached slowly, and stood near to the big man. Sonny Ray motioned to the spokesman to come closer. The oversized teenager was about six foot six, a couple inches taller than Sonny Ray, but he came forward cautiously, as Sonny Ray had the look of someone who you would not want to get a hold of you.
“Listen to me for one minute young man.”
Sonny Ray spoke in a low tone. He looked at the young man in earnest. Sonny Ray recalled when he was bullet proof. “I have no desire to put my hands on you in front of your friends, but I will.”
The cock sure young man’s countenance dropped ever so slightly. Sonny Ray continued. “Listen man, I just flew in town tonight. My old man died, and I’m tired. Do me a favor, step aside; and me and my brother can go. Please.”
Mistaking his patience for weakness, the big man looked at his two friends, then at Walter, and then putting his finger in Sonny Ray’s face he says;
“Man fuck you, and your dead dad, old man.”
A quiet spasm of stillness ensued.
Snap.
Sonny Ray looked at Walter then at the three men, and then back at his brother.
“We’re hawaiians okay, but if I was mexican,” Sonny Ray suddenly took a step back, dipped his knees slightly, and in one smooth motion Sonny Ray turned his torso sharply, and slammed a left hook off the side of the big fellas face.
The punch created a clap, like a short but crisp sound of electric static. The big man dropped, and was stunned for sure but he slowly regained his footing, and stood up, determined he came forward, wanting to make a showing in front of his peers.
Sonny Ray admired the bullet proof moment; even as he launched his forehead into the big man’s nose and mouth. As the big man began to fall for the second time, Walter ran to his truck, with Sonny Ray running casually behind, unhurried.
“How’s that for a big coconut head?” Sonny Ray asked as blood trickled down his forehead. Walter made a quick exit from Johnny’s parking lot, causing Sonny Ray to bump his head on the headliner.
Walter, not known for his fighting prowess, decided to go all Starsky and Hutch on his younger brother. “Slow down moron, and stop swerving,”
Sonny Ray said.
Meanwhile,
The two other wannabe combatants stood quietly in the parking lot of Johnny’s restaurant, as Walter and his brother headed east to their dead dad’s apartment.
Their goliath lay flat on his back, unaware that he was not available for any further unsolicited comments about the two strangers deceased father.
They continued east on 22nd street. After turning north on Swan road they drove a couple of miles. Walter turned into the Swan Crest Apartment’s parking lot.
The brothers walked quietly down the sidewalk, the same lonely sidewalk their father had walked for the last few years since the divorce.
Dark shadow spaces on aged concrete shown between the memory laden apartments. Walter unlocked the apartment door. The two men filed in quietly. Their father, Billy had been retired for quite some time now.
He served twenty four years in the Air Force.
He had a ten year pension from the county, and he was receiving his monthly social security check. To top it off he received a disability check from the VA for injuries he had sustained in Vietnam.
However, the moment you walked in his apartment, you would never guess Billy was pulling down over 5k a month. “Man, this place is foul.” Sonny Ray walked over and turned on one of his dad’s yard sale lamps. The stench of stale cigarettes hung in the air. Empty beer cans were overflowing from a paper commissary bag in the corner of the kitchen, next to the refrigerator.
There was a dirty dog dish with half a can of mushy dog food under the kitchen table near a large window. “Who took Tyrone?” Sonny Ray asked as he plopped down in his old man’s recliner. “Your sister, here.” Walter handed his brother a makeshift ice bag.
Sonny Ray placed the frozen bag of corn right over the small gash on his forehead. “Caught his tooth,” Sonny Ray said with a grin.
“Yeah I see that.” Sonny Ray stood up and headed down the hallway. “I got dibs on dad’s bed.” Sonny Ray knew getting any meaningful sleep tonight was not going to happen. “Night Walt, love you bro.”
“In the morning then. Goodnight Son love you too man.” Sonny Ray slowly closed the bedroom door. He stopped short, and left the door ajar slightly. The night was long, as he tossed and turned. It felt like an eternity for the morning to come.
Sonny Ray opened his eyes. His mouth was dry. He sat up looking around at his fathers room. His dad had a small calendar on the wall. Sonny Ray smelled like he had slept in an ashtray all night. He wandered down the hallway looking for his brother. He could smell coffee brewing. Walter handed his brother a hot cup of coffee.
“Sonny Ray check this out.”
He opened a cabinet, then another. Soon he had opened every cabinet in the kitchen. Without fail every cabinet was filled to capacity. There were four or five of everything. The refrigerator and freezer was full as well. For as long as the two brothers could remember their father had been this way. They both began to wander in the apartment, each lost in their own memories of their father.
It was kind of like walking in a museum. For anyone who has lost a loved one, you know the feeling. Sonny Ray walked from room to room; touching, feeling, remembering. Of course their old man only had a two bedroom apartment so this trip down memory lane was going to be a quick turnaround. “Man, this place stinks,” Sonny Ray said, trying to avoid the issue at hand.
Walter nodded but said nothing. They poked around for another half an hour or so, feeling kind of guilty for intruding and probing in their father’s life. Walter went to shower as Sonny Ray sat drinking another cup of coffee. His father had a few pictures on the wall of when they were all much younger.
Sonny Ray loved traveling. He always pretended to be sad when his father announced they were moving again, but inside he surged with excitement. Sonny Ray had lived in Ohio, Hawaii, Japan, North Carolina, Georgia, California, Arizona, and Alaska.
His mother was native hawaiian, from Waimea, on the big island. His father was white, from Erie, Pennsylvania. His father rarely spoke of his relatives, which over the years Sonny Ray thought was odd, but he never pressed the old man about it.
Truthfully it didn’t really matter to him, because in certain respects he was odd man out on either side of the family tree.
Sonny Ray had long wavy hair which he usually wore in a ponytail. Walter was more conservative with short hair. Both had hazel eyes. Walter was fair, and Sonny Ray was considerably darker. He was also the tallest at six foot four.
Sonny Ray’s siblings would tease him that he was adopted when they were growing up.
When Sonny Ray graduated from high school in 1978 he left Arizona five days later. He had planned, waited, and saved his money. At seventeen he had purchased his own ticket. Sonny Ray had dreamed of moving back to Hawaii since the age of five when his father had been ordered to Southeast Asia.
After years of waiting he finally returned home. It was only a matter of a few weeks though that Sonny Ray discovered that he was not quite as hawaiian as he had perceived himself to be.
The local boys made him painfully aware that not only had he not grown up there but he was half white. When he got older, Sonny Ray scoffed at their way of thinking because he knew the majority people living in Hawaii today are not native hawaiian, and those who are kānaka maoli, are mostly mixed blood as well.
Nonetheless, he walked amongst his contemporaries as the culturally lacking invisible man.
Years later, by chance and circumstance, he had moved to Las Vegas, Nevada. He began to meet many local people from Hawaii, who were streaming out of the islands in mass, leaving it to the wealthy, the hollywood elite, the rich asian investors, and a boatload of Americans and their money.
Evidently, they appeared to be the only ones who could afford to live there, and prosper at the same time. Everyone else remained in survival mode.
Las Vegas had been dubbed the ninth island. But after years of being not quite right in the eyes of others; Sonny Ray grew indifferent towards people. He was tired of proving who he was, and who he wasn’t. So when people asked if he was this or that, he just agreed. ‘Sure, why not,’ was his standard answer.
“Hey fathead get up,” Walter yelled from the kitchen, interrupting Sonny Ray’s private little cultural tug of war. “After breakfast we can meet mom at the hospital,” Walter said. Sonny Ray looked up from his plate. “Why does she want to come see dad now?” Sonny Ray felt himself getting heated. “Hey listen, I know mom has a new husband, and you two don’t,” “Nope,” Sonny Ray said, interrupting. “She is not coming in, period. When they pull the plug she will not be there to see dad go, I ain’t having it.”
Walter knew better to press the issue. So when Sonny Ray was in the shower Walter called his mom, and let her know how Sonny Ray felt about her being there. She was upset that she was rebuffed, but agreed to wait until Walter called when it was over.
The men arrived at St. Joseph hospital to meet with a Dr. Campbell. Sonny Ray and Walter rode the elevator in an uncomfortable silence.
Sonny Ray took a deep breath before exiting the elevator. The two men walked side by side as they approached the large waiting room.
Death always reminded you that it was just a phone call away; whether you wanted to receive the news or not.
“Can I help you two?” the nurse asked. “Uh yes, my brother and I are here to meet with Dr. Campbell,” Walter replied.
Walter had always been very businesslike in his dealings with people. “Certainly. Dr. Campbell is running a little late today, perhaps I could take you to your father’s room until he arrives,” the nurse offered. “That would be fine,” Walter replied as the two men followed the nurse down the hallway.
The knot in Sonny Ray’s throat increased to the size of a golf ball as they approached the sliding door of their father’s room. After opening the sliding door, Walter held the curtain open as Sonny Ray entered the room. Their father lie in his bed passively, with his arms at his sides.
Various machines, and tubes, were on both sides of his bed. With tubes in his nose, and sensors on his fingers, his face was dominated with a monstrous tube down his throat, eclipsing his face.
White medical tape held everything in place, robbing their father of his humanity. Billy’s eyes were closed as the two men approached the bed.
Sonny Ray gently placed his scarred hand upon his dad’s forehead. “Ah, dad,” Sonny Ray felt light headed as he finger combed his dad’s silvery hair.
Walter, who typically was not a man given to tears, wept openly.
“Sonny Ray this is our dad, what are we going to do now?” It was a loaded question for sure, but the business of their father was at hand. “Well, I know one damn thing, we ain’t leaving him like this,” Sonny Ray replied.
The unusual sound of the pump caught Sonny Ray’s attention. As he watched, the pump caused his fathers chest to rise and fall in an eerie rhythm. Both men had become fixated, and stared blankly at their father. “I’m sorry did you say something?” Sonny Ray asked. “You remember what dad always told us,” Walter said with the sound of resignation in his voice. Sonny Ray looked up at his brother.
“Yeah, I remember, he didn’t want no fat nurse wiping his ass, or slapping him when no one was around,” Sonny Ray said, feigning a weak smile.
The door slid open, as a middle aged man with glasses walked in slowly. After closing the door he turned and faced the three men. “Excuse me, I hope I’m not intruding,” Dr. Campbell said apologetically. “No, please doctor come in,” Walter said shaking the older man’s hand. “Dr. Campbell this is my brother Sonny Ray.”
The doctor extended his hand, looking up at the large Hawaiian.
“I’m pleased to meet you young man.”
“Likewise sir, Sonny Ray said, firmly shaking the doctors hand.
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A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 3Nikko stood in the doorway looking at her daughter affectionately.
Raye slept peacefully, taking her usual afternoon nap.
She began to reflect when her daughter had been born in Tucson.A nurse had wheeled her daughter into the room so that she could breast feed her.
“Oh, I’m sorry I must be in the wrong room,” nurse Pavlov said.“No you’re in the right room, and that is my baby, so,” Nikko said, her voice beginning to trail off.She had to have an emergency cesarean. She was weak, and groggy. The nurse reacted as though she had not heard Nikko. The nurse continued to look at the infant information card, and back at Nikko.The nurse did this several times, before wheeling the newborn up to the side of the bed. “There you go,” nurse ratchet said with an aspartame smile.Nikko could feel a small fire beginning to burn inside her.However, she took a breath, not wanting her daughter to hear any unnecessary nonsense right from the beginning of her young life.She would experience America soon enough.As the nurse prepared to leave, Nikko couldn’t resist a little condescending smile.As she began to feed her child, she watched the nurse leave the room with the swish swish sound of her white hospital dress and white panty hose echoing in her ears.
The sound of her tea pot whistling interrupted her thoughts.She stood in the kitchen waiting for her tea to seep to its fullest flavor.Nikko mulled over how insensitive some people could be. She knew that everyone in general, was color conscious to a greater or lesser degree.Throughout her life she had heard all the simple simon rhetoric, white with white, black with black, bullshit.She poured some cream into her cup, and stirred it gently.“If only people could be like a cup of tea.”
A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 4“So it was pretty bad huh Son?” Nikko asked, as she spoke consolingly to her husband. Sonny Ray looked away from his wife, trying to focus on something, anything in a feeble attempt to get his snap back. “Yeah it was tough, Sonny Ray said finally, the doctor said it would be a couple of minutes but it was more like fifteen minutes.”Sonny Ray paused, with a look that told you his mind was a million miles away.As the couple sat quietly, a mournful smile transformed Sonny Ray’s face. “The old man was tough, right to the last.” Nikko knew it was important that her husband to get it all out. She held his hand as grief came barging in unannounced, and without mercy. “I told him he didn’t have to fight anymore, that we would take care of everything, all his wishes would be honored.”Tears began to well up in the eyes of the normally cool, calm, and collect Nikko.“Right before he died, a single tear rolled down his cheek. The doctor said he was brain dead, that he couldn’t hear us.I don’t believe that though, he heard me, I know he did.”Sonny Ray emotionally imploded, and sank low into his chair. Nikko started to speak but checked herself, and instead rubbed his shoulders and neck. They both began to cry.
Sonny Ray no longer had a father.
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“Hello? Sonny Ray is that you?
Are you awake?” A voice asked softly.
“Uh yeah, who is this?” Sonny Ray asked, definitely not awake. “This is your brother Whisper.” “Oh hey Whisp, what’s up, everything alright?”
Sonny Ray sat up slowly in bed, trying his best not to wake his wife. “Well I was hoping you could pick me up at my place, and maybe we could get some breakfast, and catch up. You know.” Whisper asked shyly, thinking he would be blown off. Sonny Ray glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand. “Sure Whisper, give me a half hour.
Are you still at the same spot?” Whisper said he was. After hanging up Sonny Ray attempted to swing slowly out of bed, hoping to avoid the barrage of questions that were sure to come.
He was halfway to the bathroom when the first mortar round landed.
“Who was that baby?” Nikko asked, half asleep. “That was my brother Whisper,” Sonny Ray said in a low voice, hoping to escape. Nikko sat up slowly, “Sonny Ray I know he is not trying to hit you up for money first thing in the morning.”
Sonny Ray looked at his wife. “We’re having a long lost brother moment, and breakfast, I don’t know. When I get back we are going shopping bub.”
Sonny Ray had just deployed the classic diversionary shopping tactic, as he made a hasty retreat to the shower. After a quick rinse off he kissed his wife, and headed out.
“Why does someone have to die, before we break bread with our feelings?” Nikko thought, as she watched her husband close the door.
It had been two or three years since the two brothers had seen or heard from each other. The last thing Sonny Ray heard, his brother was a bouncer, and his girlfriend a dancer at the same club. Although Whisper had fathered a daughter it hadn’t slowed or altered his lifestyle much. Whisper had spent the last ten years in and out of jail.
He appeared to be a man hell bent on getting himself killed, for he had a polarity like attraction with violence.
If Sonny Ray was the dark horse of his family, then Whisper was most certainly the black sheep. Whisper was an extremely fragile person inside, and like many people he masked his pain with violence, in an attempt to secure the desired outcome of any given situation.
Whisper covered his fears with a mean disposition, and a really nice left hook. Sonny Ray pulled into the parking lot of his younger brother’s beat up and run down apartment complex.
He spotted Whisper, and pulled up to where he was standing. They headed to the restaurant. The two brothers would talk now.
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Cyrus awoke to a chilly morning in the mountains of northern Arizona. He had slept in the hogan of his young friend Dwayne. Cyrus had served with Dwayne’s father, Russell Notah in the military. They had met at Schofield barracks, on the island of O’ahu in the early nineteen forties.
In the military you don’t have a first name.
Over time Russell just became Notah.
Russell was recruited to be a Navajo Code Talker.
Cyrus was an Army Ranger. Because Cyrus had such a long Hawaiian name that was too difficult for most to pronounce, they called him Mana. The two men had become inseparable during the war, and beyond.
Over the years Cyrus would travel from Hawaii to Arizona, staying for a month at a time with Russell on the Navajo Nation in Kayenta, Arizona.
Russell himself traveled to many countries before returning to his homeland.
In his travels Russell would visit Cyrus who lived in remote Waipi’o Valley, on the big island. Russell, who enjoyed farming would stay with Cyrus planting various fruit trees and vegetables, as well as helping Cyrus tend to his kālo patch.
It was a quiet morning in the mountains. A raven could be heard calling in the distance. Cyrus sat up on one elbow, remaining on his side. He had many fond memories of his old friend Russell. They had many conversations that often went late into the night.
The fire had burned down, with white ash, and a few embers of orange coals remaining in the bottom of the wood burning stove.
Cyrus placed a few pine needles on the white ash, blowing gently. A flame jumped up and consumed the needles. Cyrus then placed small pine sticks on top of the tiny fire. They began to crackle in the quiet of early morning.
The flames flickered gently upward, offering light and comfort to the old man.
As the warmth spread inside the hogan, the cool crisp air retreated back into the mountains. Cyrus began his day making coffee and having a pilot cracker and some butter. At some point he knew he would receive an expected guest. Dwayne had yet to wake up, for he had been up half the night talking to Sonny Ray.
The black eagle circled the hogan four times and landed on a ponderosa pine nearby.
The great black eagle perched quietly, waiting patiently for the old man to appear. It stared down intently at the hogan, it’s eyes fixed, pupils adjusting like the zoom lens of a camera. Its eyes filtered through the trees and smoke, searching for any movement. The door of the hogan creaked open slowly as the old man, wrapped in a blanket stepped outside, and began a search of his own.
The black eagle now cried out; its piercing black eyes detecting movement. Cyrus squinted his eyes and began to scan the tree tops. A smile slowly came over his face, as he observed the large predator staring down at him. “Good morning old friend, I trust your journey was a safe one. Come on down, so you can eat.”
The black eagle issued a quiet chirping reply, and leapt from it’s lofty perch. Cyrus held his gloved hand up, offering the predator a place to land. The black eagle landed firmly. It sat staring intently at the old man. Cyrus placed a small strip of raw elk meat on his gloved hand. The black eagle immediately clamped down on the raw meat, and began to eat ravenously. The black eagle looked up at the old man for a moment, and then continued to consume the elk meat.
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In 1962, Sonny Ray’s father rushed him to the emergency room on Lockborne Air Force Base in Ohio.
“Nurse, nurse, we are going to need more help in here, now,” the doctor in charge barked. “Can you believe this,” another nurse asked. “Let’s go people,” the doctor said urgently. The little boy, only two years old, was resisting two grown men. Every time they thought they had him secured he would wriggle free. The head nurse had located two more interns to assist with the little boy.
The boy continued to struggle. The pitiful screams of the little boy could be heard in the entire ward of the burn unit. The boy had been rushed to the hospital by his father. The little boy had second degree burns on both of his feet, well past his ankles.
The two year old had been burned in scalding hot water. His skin had curled up; and as his older brother Walter would describe the carnage years later; Sonny Ray’s feet looked like the color of red jell-o, smeared in vaseline, and in blood.
The doctor had attempted to calm the little boy, but the pain was beyond description, and the boy did not have the ears to hear anything spoken to him this day. The doctor’s unpleasant task would now be to remove all the dead and dying skin to prevent infection from setting in. The doctor had already administered two injections in order to ease the boy’s pain, but to no avail as the boy continued to struggle.
Sonny Ray was sweating profusely, his screams growing ever louder. The doctor choked back his own emotions as he continued his pain staking task of peeling off the remaining dying skin; piece by piece with a large pair of Air Force issued tweezers.
The handsome boy with the wavy brown hair cried out again. “Nooooooo!! No! No! No!” Sonny Ray chanted, his little checks flush with anguish. No tears could come as the searing heat of excruciating pain soared through his body. “Should I give him another injection?” The gristled head nurse was on the verge of tears as she continued to assist the doctor with his gruesome task. “Not yet, one more now could kill him,” the doctor said without looking up.
Finally the intern asked. “So what happened to him doctor ?” The doctor paused looking over the top of his glasses. “His mother said she was bathing him and forgot to turn on the cold water.” The head nurse understood the inflection of the doctor’s voice, and what he implied, although not speaking on it directly.
But they all knew.
“This boy is a fighter,” the head nurse said quietly as she handed the doctor a fresh sterilized pair of tweezers. The doctor glanced again over his glasses.
“That he is, but I have to wonder; what’s going on inside that two year old mind.” The two interns held Sonny Ray fast, as he began to feel the effects of the third shot that the head nurse had just administered.
The little boy’s eyes began rolling in the back of his head.
The easy part was over.
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A Novel by Kawika A. StaffordChapter 8Michelle finished cleaning her father’s apartment. She lit a cigarette and sat down on an old green milk crate. She exhaled with a sigh and sat smoking quietly in the now empty apartment. She thought about how pointless having things really is. You work hard, you acquire things, most of it you don’t need; then one day your gone. Poof. Like you never were here.The killing thing, is your relatives fight and or squabble over your material things, trash the rest, mop the floor, lights out, end of story.“The whole damn world needs a do over dad.” Michelle stood up slowly and looked around one last time. “Well dad that’s as clean as is it’s going to get. Love you.”
Her older brother Walter had donated her dad’s smoke laden couch, and chair. He threw away most of dad’s junky stuff. She, Walter, and Whisper had divided dad’s salvageable items. With all of dad’s stockpile of food, and household items they could have opened a small corner grocery store. Sonny Ray curiously took little. He had told his everyone he didn’t want to haul anything back to Vegas but Michelle knew better. Sonny Ray had always prided himself on not being indebted to many, particularly to his mom and dad.Michelle could not believe how much crap her dad had stuffed in this two bedroom tuna can. Michelle hesitated to leave.
She remembered she had a cold drink in the refrigerator. After opening her drink she sat and smoked another cigarette. She knew the reasons why her dad hoarded food; all of Billy’s children knew. Her dad was born in 1928. Growing up during the Great Depression, Billy’s family was dirt poor.When Billy was drinking, and reminiscing he would sometimes talk about his older brother Jimmy. As the story went, Jimmy had burned his finger with a blank cartridge, and it later developed into tetanus. Michelle had no idea what a blank cartridge was but she figured it had to do with a weapon of some sort. Her father’s family had been so poor that they could not even afford a tetanus shot.As a result, her dad’s big brother got lockjaw, and bit off half of his own tongue. Jimmy had lay upon the couch for fifteen days, as his family watched in anguish; the little twelve year old boy, as he slowly and painfully died. Michelle recalled her father pulling out an old yellow discolored envelope, and an even older newspaper clipping, reported on in the Erie newspaper.When they were kids they had to sit at the table and listen as their dad read that newspaper clipping, primarily so they knew their old man wasn’t telling them some bullshit story; but also to inculcate the importance of working hard, and providing for your family.Michelle dropped her cigarette into her canned drink. She gathered her things and looked around one last time.
“Well there you go dad.”
Her countenance fell as she turned off the light switch.
After closing and locking the door she headed down the darkened sidewalk to the apartment manager to turn in the keys to her dad’s apartment.
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
Dwayne turned off the light in his office. He had been on the computer checking his mail, and he decided to fix something to eat and watch the local news. He sat in his favorite chair, eating a sandwich. Dwayne was not presently in a relationship, but there was a young lady he was interested in.
He had only been back in Antelope Springs for about two and a half years. Dwayne had attended ASU down in Tempe.
He had grown up around horses and cattle, so cowboying was in his blood. Dwayne chose to go into the field of animal husbandry. After receiving his bachelor’s degree from ASU, he returned home. He had applied for a job with the Navajo Nation after returning to Antelope Springs, but currently they were fully staffed. However, Dwayne received an offer a couple of months later after the unexpected retirement of a long time employee.
Dwayne had a goal to breed horses, and eventually create a small program that would give those Dine’ children interested in horses, an opportunity to learn horsemanship, which would include caring for the horses; and farrier work as well. Dwayne was eager to see Cyrus.
At the same time, he was saddened to learn that Cyrus was not well. He had sat in shock when Cyrus had told him that he had perhaps only a few months left to live. Cyrus dropped an even larger bombshell when he told him about his son, Sonny Ray.
It was shocking because Cyrus was single as far back as Dwayne could remember.
It was a lot to digest in such a short span of time. Cyrus had a few girlfriends in the past, but nothing that resulted in children. Well, as far as Dwayne knew; which was presently not much obviously. The fact that he had kept his son a secret all these years, was a feat in of itself.
Cyrus had told him he would explain everything when he arrived from the big island. Dwayne figured this was going to get interesting. He would also get to meet this Sonny Ray as well.
The hundred year old ponderosa pines towered all around his home. Dwayne searched the tops of the highest trees. He wondered if the black eagle was out there, watching him. In the past whenever Cyrus was coming to visit, the black eagle would always arrive a day or two after Cyrus.
Dwayne found the black eagle unsettling at times.
For example, when it looked at you, you knew it, you felt it. It was as if the black eagle had observed his entire life, knowing more of him than he would like it to.
Yet Dwayne did not suffer an inordinate fear of the black eagle.
Cyrus had explained to Dwayne about the things that had been revealed to him; primarily as the result of decades of observation. The sun faded behind the distant horizon, as a chill began to replace the fading warmth of day in the mountains of northern Arizona. Dwayne gave up his search, knowing it would probably be another two or three days before he would see the life long companion of Cyrus. He decided to watch a movie.
Dwayne placed a couple of pieces of wood into the fireplace before settling in.
The black eagle perched in stillness on a large ponderosa pine, looking down at Dwayne.
The fire was emanating radiantly, creating a fiery northern lights dance on the ceiling of his home.
The wind began to blow gently through the trees.
The night hid it’s secrets but the light lay them bare.
Always to be seen;
by the
Black Eagle Dream.
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
In 1964, Sonny Ray’s mom found a pair of panties on the floor of the backseat of his dad’s 1960 chevy impala.
The next thing he knew, him, his mom, and two brothers and his baby sister were getting off a plane in Kona, on the big island of Hawaii.
Sonny Ray recalled the wind being warm and light, as they sat in the bed of their uncle Hugh’s pickup.
It was a long lazy ride to Parker Ranch as they traveled upland to Waimea.
The distinctive pace of Hawaii was felt immediately upon his arrival. For Sonny Ray, this was the best day of his life.
It was a day like no other as far as he was concerned.
Before moving into the ranch house next door, Sonny Ray and Whisper had slept in the room of his grandparents house, the same room where their mother had been born.
So because his dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants,
that is how it came to be
that little Sonny Ray was introduced
to his aboriginal homeland at the age of four.
Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
Black Eagle Dream 