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Black Eagle Dream

May 24th, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 12

Whisper and his father had been at odds for many years. Whisper had cried at the hospital when his father died, but for the most part Whisper hated his father.

Most of it stemmed from his dad’s inadequacies as a man. As Billy was a very weak and insecure man, his behavior often lended itself to varied inconsistencies. As a man who remained lost in a sea of alcohol; to Whisper it was like being in a row boat with a gorilla, and only one oar.
As such, discipline was generally dispensed when Billy was intoxicated.

His father would often tell Whisper that he was the bad penny that always turned up.

As a kid he had no idea what that meant.

However, Whisper understood what his father meant when he told him he was stupid, and was never going to amount to anything.

Over the years Whisper began to believe that, and acted accordingly. But he suffered for that belief as he devolved into an emotionally crippled boy; trapped in a man’s body.

Like all of Billy’s children, he too was the poster child for low self esteem.
It was a few years prior to Sonny Ray moving up to Las Vegas, that Whisper had begun his downward spiral.

It was on a Christmas Day, when Sonny Ray received a frantic call from Whisper’s sobbing girlfriend, Gabriella. She had begged Sonny Ray for help. It was a cold rainy overcast day in Tucson. His brother had put a pistol to his temple, and was working up the courage to end the year in dramatic fashion. Whisper had been up all night, drinking beer, whiskey, and snorting cocaine.

‘A lovely combination this fine Christmas morning,’ Sonny Ray thought as he drove to his brother’s apartment alone. Nikko had protested, but he went anyway. After a short fifteen minute drive; he turned into Whisper’s apartment complex.
Sonny Ray parked, and walked to his brothers apartment. After knocking, Gabriella opened the door and let him in. She was understandably upset. Sonny Ray instructed Gabriella to take his niece into the bedroom. Sonny Ray walked with Gabriella to the bedroom door. She was upset and didn’t want to go in the bedroom.

Sonny Ray whispered to her to take off the screen from the bedroom window, and if she heard any commotion she was to put her daughter out of the window and then climb out and run for help.

Gabriella was fearful for Sonny Ray, but after urging her several times she finally closed the bedroom door and waited. Sonny Ray turned his attention toward his younger brother, who sat on the couch in a drunken stupor.

Without a word he picked up the .357 magnum, and unloaded it. Putting the shells in his pocket he placed the pistol on the coffee table, and sat down next to Whisper. On the coffee table were half filled syringes of blood. Small puddles of fresh blood covered the table. Strewn about were cigarette butts, empty beer cans, and a half eaten carne asada burrito.

Whisper had been drawing blood from his arms. He had a nice sized welt on his forehead from smashing beer cans. There was a bottle of Jack, and remnants of cocaine on a small vanity mirror.
Dried blood streaked down the inside of his forearms.

He had large purple welts on his inner arms where he had been sticking himself. Sonny Ray had sat there for some time without speaking. His quiet demeanor had arrested Whisper’s attention.

Whisper occasionally looked up at his brother through glossy, and bloodshot eyes. “What in the hell are you doing?” Sonny Ray finally asked.

“I don’t want to deal with this shit anymore Sonny.”

Sonny Ray was respected by his younger brother, and often times he would listen. But as they had gotten older, that respect had waned, and new borders were set. Undeterred, Sonny Ray offered to take his brother to get some help. They ended up talking for several hours.

Sonny Ray cleaned up the blood, and gathered up all the trash. After returning from dumping the trash, he encouraged Gabriella and the baby to come out of the bedroom. They retreated to a large chair. Gabriella was terrified, and sat quietly as Sonny Ray interacted with his brother a couple of more hours.

Whisper began to slowly sober up. He later apologized to his family, and promised to get help. After leaving Sonny Ray headed down the rainy slick roads of Tucson. Sonny Ray knew Whisper wasn’t ready to make a change in his life.

That was years ago, and Whisper was still doing Whisper. Of course he rode solo these days. Gabriella, and their daughter Johnnie D disappeared shortly after the attempted suicide on Christmas day.

Whisper never saw his daughter again.

The two brothers sat quietly with a sense of dread as they waited for their two siblings. Walter was a little pissed at Whisper for not being as helpful as he could have.

Sonny Ray couldn’t be bothered with that aspect of his younger brother. That was who his brother was. You could count on not counting on him. But hell, at least he was consistent.

The four siblings finally met up to face death together. Walter held the door as the foursome filed in quietly. After speaking to the funeral director they were lead to a small room to view their father. Billy lay in an inexpensive coffin, per his request. The four approached their father in painful reverence. After only a few minutes though, the commentary began.
“Man, I cannot believe we forgot dad’s dentures,” Walter said, as he stood next to his father’s casket. They all nodded, staring at their father’s down turned mouth like they were judges in an undertaker competition.

“Well, it’s not like he needs them; Whisper offered, getting his penny’s worth in.

The other three siblings all turned and looked at their coked out brother. Michelle just stared at her dad saying nothing. Whisper on the other hand was a little more touchy-feely, as he began to place his hand on his father’s chest, and finally his face.

“Dad feels hard as rock,” Whisper observed in childlike wonder.
“Uh, that’s because he’s dead bro,” Sonny Ray said, unable to resist.
“I know that smart ass, it just feels weird Sonny Ray, okay?” Sonny Ray checked himself, not wanting to wind up the volatile Whisper. “Sorry bro, you walked into that one,” Sonny Ray said, with the hint of a repressed smile. “Whatever asshole,” Whisper said.

“Okay you two, enough already,” Walter interjected. Sonny Ray smiled but said nothing. Their old man would have laughed at Sonny Ray. Billy after all was where they had gotten their sense of humor.

Michelle suddenly broke down, and sort of cried. “You okay Michelle?” Walter asked. She nodded in the affirmative and said, “I don’t like the way they did dad’s hair.”
They all finally turned their attention to their father and his hair. After a moment they all began to nod in unison.
“Yeah, your right Dad always combed to the side not straight back,” Walter offered. They all fell quiet; looking into their dead father’s face.

His unmoving face resembled a map, a map that once lead into their lives; and now that map, that face, was leading them out, to who knows where.

They were on their own now, really on their own.

They lingered for a time, and said their goodbyes.

Tomorrow, they would lay their father to rest.

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Black Eagle Dream

May 7th, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 28

After the trio had finished eating dinner, Cyrus invited the two young men to the hogan. This would be the last night that the three men would share this hogan together. They had all made their pallets to sleep on. Dwayne brought enough cedar to burn for the night. It was warm and comfortable in this earthy space. Cyrus began to tire so the men settled in for the night. Dwayne closed the door of the hogan, and placed a piece of cedar into the stove.

Sonny Ray lie on his pallet between the fire, and the window. Sonny Ray could see the stars shining brightly against the black drop of night.

In the distance he could hear the drone of a C-130 cargo plane flying east into the darkened skies. The red flashing beacon lights on the wings and belly of the aircraft along with the roaring of the four turboprop engines bellowing in the skies above, brought back bad memories to Sonny Ray. His eyes were heavy with sleep. His thoughts shifted to his wife Nikko and his daughter, little Raye. He hoped they were safe. He fell into a deep sleep.

The military aircraft continued on, its roar gradually fading away into the night. The red lights over the inside doors of the C-130 aircraft continued to burn bright as the paratrooper stood in the door. The young man from Oceanside, California was poised, ready to leap up and out into the expanse of night.

It was a rare opportunity for the young paratrooper to do a night jump. He anticipated that the red light would turn back to green shortly, indicating they were again over the drop zone. When it didn’t happen, the jump master who directs the soldiers when it’s time to jump, placed his hand over the eyes of the paratrooper in an attempt to get him to stand back and wait for another pass at the drop zone.

However, the unofficial rule in the 82nd Airborne was if you were standing in the door and the light went from green to red it was your option to stand back and wait for another pass, or jump on red and take your chances. Some paratroopers were skilled enough to maneuver over the trees and back onto the mostly sandy drop zones of North Carolina.

The young and inexperienced jump master once again attempted to obscure the vision of the hyped up paratrooper standing in the door. A struggle ensued as several of the more experienced paratroopers began to call out to just let the guy jump. The cherry jump master however would not relent, his fragile pride bruised. He continued without success reaching for the young soldier. The adrenaline filled paratrooper now highly agitated, stood with his legs firmly planted. His hands clung tightly to the side of the open cargo door.

Without warning, the aircraft hit a pocket of turbulence causing the young paratrooper to momentarily lose his balance, knocking him backward into the rookie jump master. The young man quickly regained his balance, determined to exit the aircraft. The jump master reached clumsily for the paratroopers mid section. The jump masters hand came into contact with the handle of the troopers reserve chute.

The young paratrooper surged toward the door as the jump master lost his footing again, falling back as his fingers became entangled with the handle again,

this time deploying the reserve chute inside the C-130 aircraft.

However, it was not designed to be deployed in an aircraft traveling in excess of a hundred miles an hour with both side doors open. The rushing air inflated the chute instantly, and as it did it sucked the young paratrooper right out the door.

In the blink of an eye he was gone.

With the exception of a sickening thud, it was over as quickly as it had started. The remaining paratroopers who had been waiting for their turn to jump, all stared in shocked disbelief. While it was true that the young paratrooper had been sucked out of the aircraft, and was now floating serenely onto the Ft. Bragg, North Carolina drop zone; he did so without his head and steel pot. The young soldiers neck had struck the edge of the side door causing him to be decapitated. His cranium, with helmet and chin strap firmly in place, lay precariously near the open door.

His lips moved as the last command by his brain had instructed.

The young paratrooper from Oceanside, California did not realize he was dead.

Sonny Ray shot straight up out of a deep sleep into a sitting position. Sweat poured off him as he gasped, struggling to breathe. Sonny Ray had had this dream many times over the years. He recalled that he was standing right there, the next paratrooper in line to jump. Sonny Ray stood five feet away from the decapitated head, staring intently into the piercing hazel eyes of his now dead roommate. Men began to vomit as the obstinate jump master stood frozen in shock, unable to move, unable to do anything. Without thinking, Sonny Ray stepped forward and retrieved the head of his surfing partner, and friend Palani Stevens. He held the helmet of Palani gingerly in his hands. Cold wind blew fiercely into the aircraft chilling Sonny Ray to the bone.

All eyes were on him now.

Blood dripped from Palani’s neck onto Sonny Ray’s boots as he gently placed Palani’s head on one of the olive green fold down chairs. Sonny Ray began looking around desperately for a towel or something to cover his friend’s face. The cries of anguish became louder as the blood of Palani began to soak through the mesh chair, dripping, onto the cargo floor, and draining in the direction of the stunned paratroopers. Sonny Ray was in shock but somehow remained lucid enough to function. He slowly walked to the rear of the aircraft securing the jump master, taking him gently by the arm. With the help of his fellow soldiers they got him squared away, and buckled him in.

Sonny Ray instructed a few of the paratroopers to sit next to him so he couldn’t continue to see the carnage he had caused. After securing the two side doors they headed back to Pope Air Force Base.

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Black Eagle Dream

May 3rd, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 31

Dwayne had only to tie down the old man’s longboard on the luggage rack of his old suburban, and the three men would be good to go. Dwayne had taken out the two rows of seats in order to make a comfortable pallet for his friend to rest upon. Cyrus was very weak now, so sitting for the entire journey would be impossible for the once powerful man. Dwayne phoned his friend Nadia Titla.

She was the managing editor and owner operator of a local native quarterly newspaper. Nadia had named it, ‘You Are On Indian Land’.

Her phone went to voicemail, so Dwayne let her know they were heading out to Shiprock, and also where he left the spare key. He had given her the alarm code, so she was prepared. Nadia, and her coworker Natalia were going to house sit while he was out of town. They also agreed to feed and water his horses.

Dwayne also told Nadia he had something important he wanted her to see.

He did not elaborate but promised to fill her in when he got back to town.

Nadia had recently received the news regarding officer Bob and his alleged assault of a native american college student, Jesse Coyote. After interviewing Jesse, Nadia had asked Jesse if wanted to be a part of her first exposé highlighting his assault by an Antelope Springs police officer.

He agreed, and promised to provide pictures that had not been previously released by law enforcement.

Nadia had her mocs on the ground, in an attempt to get a statement.

Right now local law enforcement appeared to be in damage control mode, which means they were avoiding her like small pox laden blankets.

She was the proverbial thorn in local law enforcement officials side in this part of Arizona. Nadia was relentless in reporting the numerous violations of indigenous peoples civil liberties. She had been hounding Chief Edwards for the last few years, but thus far he had been able to manipulate the system, circumventing the law and the truth at every turn.

She though was undeterred, as she felt that eventually something was going to have to give.

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Black Eagle Dream

May 2nd, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 32

“Got him.” Dwayne negotiated in and around small clumps of scrub brush to retrieve the quail he had dispatched with his old but reliable wrist rocket. Dwayne had offered Sonny Ray the wrist rocket earlier, but Sonny Ray assured him he would be fine with his pocket of rocks. Dwayne had not seen or heard from him in over an hour. Dwayne had shot ten quail.

After placing his quail in a used Bluebird flour sack, he decided to head back in the direction of camp, and keep an eye out for his hunting partner.

Dwayne headed down a small hill, walking on a game trail, when a cotton tail rabbit decided to make a jail break, and crashed through some mesquite branches near to the trail where he walked. “Wascally wabbit, scared the shit out of me,” Dwayne said in his best Elmer Fudd ever.

Suddenly he paused in his tracks. Dwayne sensed something watching him.
He looked around cautiously, moving only with his eyes.

Last year, his cousin Graham from Medicine River had been attacked and mauled by a mountain lion.

However, his sense of smell alerted him to the fact that there was no danger whatsoever.

He climbed the hill slowly and saw Sonny Ray sitting under a large piñon tree.

A cream colored cloud of cannabis blew gently upward, dispersing through the branches of the large tree. The burning flower wafed down in his direction. Both men smiled.

“Smoke Signals, hawaiian style,” Sonny Ray said.

“You did good with your pocket of rocks.” Dwayne sat down next to Sonny Ray, looking at his five quail. “Not bad yourself,” Sonny Ray said pointing at the flour sack Dwayne had placed on the ground. The men sat sipping water. Dwayne was a quiet man, and fairly reserved, but him and Sonny Ray got along like they had known each other for a minute.
“There’s a stream a little further up the canyon where we can go and clean these quail,” Dwayne said. Sonny Ray nodded, as he placed the five quail in the flour sack.

Tonight they would feast.

The afternoon had slipped away with the sun as the two men prepared to head back to camp. Large boulders dotted the land. A vapor blood trail followed quietly behind them. They had walked up the next hill, and stood quietly as they both gazed down at the small camp fire in the distance.

Cyrus was waiting. They descended to the bottom of the hill.

The leader of the quail covey could be heard calling, directing the surviving covey of quail to follow the escape plan.
The lead scout of the quail sat perched high on a branch, surveying the field. It sought refuge for those in its charge.

Vowing revenge for its fallen, the covey of quail retired from the field of battle, seeking respite, as they slipped away into the fading light of the Arizona landscape.

The men had walked up the next hill, and we’re almost to the bottom of that hill, when they saw it. It was kind of hard to believe really.
It was a bobcat. Both Sonny Ray and Dwayne had lived in Arizona long enough to know that it was rare for anyone to see a bobcat out in the open. It just doesn’t happen.
Both men became immediately aware that this particular bobcat had very little fear of man.

It approached nonchalantly, like your cat would do, when you first come home from work.

The bobcat was maybe thirty five pounds. It appeared to be somewhat malnourished; which in of itself was sufficient to account for it’s bold behavior. Either that or it had rabies. Nonetheless, these small cats were not to be discounted. The bobcat began a slow calculated approach to the men, and their quail. The bobcat could taste the blood of the quail in the air. It began with a low guttural growl. They were as prepared as possible, one with a wrist rocket, the other with a couple of tangerine sized rocks at the ready. The bobcat continued to advance closer now. It began to hiss really slow, but with a rising crescendo of hissy fit loud. Sonny Ray got chicken skin.

Without any firearms their options were a little scanty. Common sense said drop the quail, and cut your losses. Dwayne looked at Sonny Ray, and both men nodded in silent agreement to do just that. The bobcat was perhaps, sixty five yards away. As Dwayne was about to place the hard earned quail on the ground, the bobcat picked up it’s pace. “Not good,” Sonny Ray said, in the simplest wordage possible. Dwayne nodded in full agreement.

Both men began looking around, as they subconsciously wondered if they could out Macgyver the other.

“Oh Shit,” one of the men said, as the bobcat closed.

Out of the shadows of the sheer canyon cliffs, the giant black eagle, leapt from it’s rocky perch. The aggressive movement of the bobcat had aroused its rapacious instinct to dive, to hunt, to kill.

Though at this time it would not be out of hunger. It’s large powerful wings carried the black eagle in and out of a dimension rarely observed by mankind. The winged creature flew through the air, bearing down on the hapless bobcat.

The two men didn’t have a clue, as their interest was not particularly focused on the sky at this time. They began to back up but not quite ready to succumb to panic. The bobcat was within forty yards now. Dwayne dropped the blood stained bag of quail. The bobcat continued its quest.

The nubian eyes of the black eagle stared fixed at it’s target. Its talons were fully extended, as death approached silently, unrelenting was the Black Eagle Dream.

The heavenly predator laid claim to this creature of the earth.

Without the hint of danger upon it, the powerful black eagle snatched the bobcat from the ground; the way a child might pluck a dandelion from the grass. Its massive wings were perhaps only eight, maybe nine feet from the ground; as it blew over the top of Dwayne and Sonny Ray.

This was the original stealth fighter.

“AAhhhh!!!” The men cried out in unison, as they threw themselves, instinctively to the ground. Dwayne and Sonny Ray saw something that would not soon be forgotten; the terrified, and confused look of the bobcat, as the black eagle circled back flying over the two men a second time. The doomed bobcat seemed to plead with the men, as it’s legs were hopelessly flopping around in the wind. Its eyes seemed to beg; ‘help me.’

They could hear the cry of the cat on the wind, as the black eagle disappeared into the encroaching darkness.

The fading sound of the bobcat bleating out a final cry for his mother proved to be inconsequential.

The men stood slowly. After dusting off, they watched the silhouette of the black eagle finally fading into the night. “I am not sure what just happened here,” Dwayne offered with a college educated grin.

“What the fuck,” was all the high school graduate could manage.

“I concur sir,” Dwayne said. Both men began to laugh heartily. Dwayne had gathered their quail, and began the final push to their camp.

As the two men walked, they became captive to their own thoughts.

Sonny Ray thought about this black eagle. By virtue of the fact that this black eagle showed up when it did, it was obvious to Sonny Ray that it had acted out of a protective measure rather than of need.

Was this really happening to him?

The sun had set, and the stars began to shed their celestial light upon the earth, as the coyote sat on the hill with his friend the gila monster, watching the unpredictable humans.

The two men continued walking. Dwayne grinned. Cyrus was right, Sonny Ray was the one. And why wouldn’t he be, Sonny Ray was his son. The two men walked side by side as they neared camp. Dwayne had set up near the canyon wall. The glow of fire reflected off the many layers of sandstone of the canyon. The smell of various foods mingled in the air. The two men finally approached camp. Cyrus had brewed a pot of coffee.

Like a couple of teenagers they began to relate to the old man about the black eagle and the bobcat.

After sharing a simple but tasty meal the three men settled in on their bed rolls. The crackling of the burning mesquite was the only sound in the cool evening of night. Sonny Ray though, had grown weary of all the solitude, and opted for a Hawaiian mo’olelo, a story.

“Did you know, that a native hawaiian was at the Battle of the Little Big Horn?”

Sonny Ray asked, from deep, deep, left field.

The two men turned slightly in the direction of Sonny Ray.
“It’s true, really. This hawaiian guy ended up becoming a scout for Custer.”

Dwayne sat up slowly. “Sonny Ray are you jerking my chain?”

“I would never jerk your chain Dwayne I barely know you,” Sonny Ray smiled slyly.

Dwayne gave a look that denoted doubt.
“Dude I am dead serious. It is a little known fact, but a fact nonetheless,” Sonny Ray said trying not to laugh. “So what happen to him?” Dwayne asked, not thinking. “What happened to him? He got his ass killed that’s what. But hey he was running with the bad guys so what did he expect?” Sonny Ray stated, setting up the finish to his story.

“The sad thing though was, he was actually a relative of mine,” Sonny Ray said, pretending to be sad. “Sonny Ray I know we just met, but I have to tell you something.” Sonny Ray looked over at Dwayne trying to maintain his composure.

“You’re so full of shit.”

The old man chuckled, waiting for more. “Dwayne I’m serious now.” “Okay wise guy if he was your relative then what was his name,” Dwayne asked trying to squash his story.

“His name was Charlie Puka in the shirt,” Sonny Ray said proudly.

“Charlie Puka in the what?” Dwayne asked, knowing all the while he was being sucked into the black hole of his new friend’s story.

“Bruh his name was Charlie Puka in the shirt,” Sonny Ray declared. There was a slight pause in the conversation. Dwayne mockingly sighed. “Okay, what does Puka in the shirt mean Sonny Ray?” Dwayne was fully committed to the story now.

“Puka is the hawaiian word for hole. The hawaiian scout had so many arrows in him, they called him,’”Charlie Puka in the shirt.’”

“You’re full of crap, but that was a pretty good story,” Dwayne said. Cyrus chuckled.

Soon all three men were laughing. The men grew quiet again.

They resumed their search, as the stars hung like good memories in the sky, reminding them it was good to laugh now and again, even in the face of death.

The wind began to swirl, blowing the fire into disarray. Cyrus drifted off to sleep. The two men began to be carried away into their own thoughts. They lay back, and continued to contemplate the beauty of the star filled skies above them.

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Black Eagle Dream

May 1st, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 33

Throughout the storied chronicles of men, in every culture on the planet that has ever been, there are songs that people embraced for generations; and continue to do so to this day.

For Cyrus, his song was

singular

in its nature.

It’s added rarity supposed a category all of its own.

His song was the Black Eagle Dream; and the sound of the wind as it rushed up in his face, landing swiftly on the hand of the old Hawaiian man.

Cyrus had awoke early. He began a trek of short duration; however in his weakened state the dying man struggled to get up the hill. After reaching his destination he gathered himself, slowly catching his breath.

Cyrus observed the sun blink its eyes as it rose over the edge of the mountains; preparing to offer another unconditional day of warmth and hope.

As Cyrus stood alone, he called out to the Black Eagle Dream.

In the canyon, the shadows held ancient songs of a time of the not so distant past.

Cyrus called through the ages, through the shadows,

calling to this song, for one final moment together.

Cyrus called to the Black Eagle Dream, with all the fading strength he had left.

The old man’s heart cried out in anguish and in sorrow.

Cyrus knew that this would be the last time that he would call to his other worldly companion.

Cyrus was not afraid. He loved his life, but he knew it was time to go. The old man stood quietly facing the canyon, straining as he searched the shadows with his fading eyes.

Without a sound, the large black eagle approached from behind flying low; so low, that it nearly made contact with the once powerful hawaiian.

The black eagle had never done that before.

Slowly it made a wide sweeping turn as it came down to sing its song to Cyrus one last time. Tears flowed down his soft leathered face. The black eagle landed. Its familial sounds were comforting in the ears of the old man.

Perhaps though, the black eagle had approached from an unfamiliar direction, to remind him that death had indeed come to take his song away.

Be that as it may, this special song would play to it’s melodious, and mournful crescendo;

like thunder in the ears of Cyrus Keali’iwahamana, and the Black Eagle Dream.

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Black Eagle Dream

April 30th, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 34

Traveling through Diné country Dwayne would naturally pick up a hitchhiker or two, but with Cyrus laying down in the back of the suburban it would have proven to be problematic.

Cyrus had a pallid complexion for the last couple of days, so Dwayne was cognizant that time was not to be squandered. Cyrus had managed to eat a small amount of fruit, and some coffee. Other than that he had no desire to eat. Dwayne by nature was relatively quiet.

However, being a human, the strain of Cyrus’ impending death was beginning to show on this young man’s face.

Shiprock Mountain was beginning to loom large in the distance.
It was a beautiful day. Dwayne looked at Cyrus through his rear view mirror. “The road is going to get a little bumpy uncle. Hang on Cyrus,” Dwayne said gently.

Cyrus raised a hand weakly in the direction of the two young men. Sonny Ray glanced at Cyrus, and then said to Dwayne, “So this is it huh? This is where Cyrus wants to die?” “Yeah, this is it,” Dwayne replied. Their eyes met briefly.

Dwayne began to decrease his speed as he left the hardtop, and so began their journey on this long dusty road.

They were to camp at a place that Dwayne had discovered as a teenager, when him and his friends were out riding their horses.

Shiprock Dike in of itself, is breathtaking. You had a sense of what you were not when you stood out here on this land. The two men slowly assisted Cyrus from the vehicle. There was not a stop sign for miles. With the exception of their incidental stir, the noise of modern life was for the most part temporarily suspended. This rare quality of hushed silence was something that Sonny Ray had not heard in many years. As they finished unloading their supplies Sonny Ray was beginning to understand why Cyrus would want to come here.

The land evoked feelings of timelessness.

Dwayne had encouraged Cyrus to stay in the back of the suburban, but the old man insisted on his pallet being placed on the ground. As Cyrus put it, he wanted to feel the aloha āina near to his still beating heart. The wind blew periodically, causing the dust to swirl, like little tornado wannabe’s. Every so often a big dust devil would form, and then fade away into nothingness.

Shiprock Mountain rises up from the desert floor some, 7,177 feet above sea level.
From their view, you could easily recognize the great wings that spread out over the top of this sublime summit. Perhaps that was why Cyrus really loved coming to this place, and why he wanted to die near the mountain.

Shiprock Mountain is a sacred place.

The young men had not seen the black eagle since leaving the small canyon they had camped at the night before.

It would come though, as it always had.

The sun slowly slipped in the sky, and with it the life of Cyrus Keali’iwahamana.

The only thing they could do now was to sit and wait.

The sun would set in a few hours. And away his spirit would fly.

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Black Eagle Dream

April 28th, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 36

With Shiprock Mountain standing majestic silent alone, Cyrus stood unsteadily, and watched the sun melting away in the ether. He had insisted that the two men help him to his feet. The skies were ablaze with color. From the brilliant yellow hues, with the flashing burning orange hues against a fading blue sky. The warmth of the fading sun felt good on the face of the old man.

There is nothing quite like the warmth of the sun.

Cyrus had not said anything of course to the young men, but Cyrus could feel the coldness of death creeping ever closer. He felt weary in his bones. His time was close now. He knew that not many people had the opportunity to choose where they would die, so Cyrus felt grateful that he had decided upon, and arrived to this sacred place of such beauty.

The old man now sat propped up on his pallet, alone with the last of his thoughts, his emotions slowly seeping into the earth. Dwayne stood up so that he could sit with Cyrus. Dwayne kneeled down next to the old man. Cyrus weakly offered his hand. Dwayne squeezed his hand gently, acknowledging the deep affection he had for this man. “I am proud to have seen you grow up into a fine young man,” Cyrus said softly. Dwayne glanced over at Sonny Ray sitting across the fire.

“Cyrus I cannot tell you all the things that are in my heart, but I want you to know how much I appreciate how you looked after me after mom and dad were killed.”

Dwayne faltered, a silent tear streaming down his cheek. “I will always cherish your words, your kindness, your love, your wisdom, I…” Dwayne could not contain himself any further as he began to shake in sorrow. He hung his head down, unable to speak. Cyrus squeezed the hand of Dwayne with what fading strength he had left to offer.

“As I prepare to lay down with my ancestors, I must say that though the journey at times was a very difficult one, there were many good things that I enjoyed.

Never forget to seek the good things, things of value, the things that don’t fade with time.

Never forget your Creator. It is He that will watch over you during your journey of this life.”

The old man closed his eyes, and began to drift back between the sleep world of death, and the dreams of a life that was fading fast.

“I love you Cyrus.” “I love you too,” Cyrus said, spent now. Dwayne stood slowly. He looked down at Cyrus, unsure if there was anything left to say in this moment. Dwayne brushed away his tears, and attempted to sniff his sorrow back into his heart.

After adjusting his hat, he stood up and slowly walked to the suburban to get Cyrus another blanket. Sonny Ray was placing more wood atop the fire, as embers from the coals shot up briefly into the night sky. After placing the blanket upon his dying friend, Dwayne sat down in his chair. Tears streamed down his face.

Sonny Ray gave his friend some space, waiting for the wave of emotions to break over the reef of Dwayne Notah’s grief.

Sonny Ray waited. Dwayne began to regain his composure. “You all right?” Sonny Ray asked, almost in a whisper. “Yeah,” Dwayne offered. Sonny Ray poured some coffee as the two men continued their vigil.

High atop Shiprock Mountain, the solitary black eagle sat, observing the three men from afar.

It sat perched upon a wing of the sacred mountain.

It leapt from the ancient wing and began it’s descent to articulate a better view of the goings on of the men below.

A sliver of the moon began to rise.

The next few hours passed slowly.

Sonny Ray placed a few more pieces of wood on the fire. He glanced at his watch. It was four in the morning. He stood to shake the stiffness from his legs. There was a chill in the air. Dwayne sat at the fire with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Cyrus lay near the fire.

Cyrus had been sleeping peacefully for the last couple of hours.

Sonny Ray knelt down next to the dying man. In the dim light he could see that Cyrus was still breathing. He stared intently into the face of Cyrus.

Sonny Ray began to reflect on why Cyrus waited so long to tell him that he was his father. He knew his mother probably had played a large role in this.

Perhaps though Cyrus stayed away as long as he could, unsure that Sonny Ray would even accept this lifetime responsibility. Sonny Ray was about to go get another cup of coffee when the old man opened his eyes. “Hey Cyrus.” “Hello my son. I know you have many questions, and I am truly sorry that I will not be here to answer them. Do not be anxious over the things concerning the black eagle. Give me a drink of water,” Cyrus said, licking his lips. Sonny Ray helped Cyrus sit up a little. “Thank you.” Sonny Ray nodded, trying to smile bravely now. Cyrus took another drink of water.

Cyrus continued. “I know you are angry at your mother, and at me as well. You may never fully understand all the reasons for the things your mother and I decided upon many years ago. I hope that you can forgive us someday.” Sonny Ray nodded in acknowledgement.

“You have a fine family. Take care of the ones who love you the most. Never forget that.”

Cyrus was having a difficult time breathing. “Go get Dwayne.” Sonny Ray had tears in his eyes.

The quarter moon had not yet made it’s rotation complete, and hung in the sky, like the sail of an ancient hawaiian canoe that was fading on the horizon; in search of a new world in which to live.

The two men knelt on either side of Cyrus. The wind swirled again, causing the fire to throw shards of burning coals upward, into the dark blue black of morning.

The moon lingered in the sky like a promise.

“The life that we live now is one where much value is placed on what you possess.”

The old man’s breathing was ragged now. “As you live your lives, try to reach beyond what you can see, touch, feel. Search for the unseen things. If you do, then you will understand to where the Black Eagle Dream flies, look,” the old man said, fadingly emphatic as he pointed with a weary finger. The two men turned to see what Cyrus was pointing to.

They had not noticed that his arm had fell to his side. Sonny Ray was finally the first to notice. “Dwayne.” He looked down now too.

The old man’s eyes were open, as he appeared to be searching the horizon.

Cyrus had gone his way.

Dwayne placed his hand over his own eyes and began to weep. Sonny Ray was numb. He had lost track of time. He and his siblings had just been standing in a cold sterilized room in the ICU, fixated on an EKG monitor, like it was the big ball counting down in Times Square, on New Year’s Eve.

Time moved in slow motion that day, as they watched their father fade away from this life, into the white horizontal lines of destiny.

Now Sonny Ray was here.

Dwayne continued to hold onto the old man’s hand as he sobbed uncontrollably. Sonny Ray looked into the now vacant eyes of Cyrus. “Goodbye Cyrus. Mahalo nui loa. You never forgot about me, you kept pictures of me. Thanks for never giving up. I will do my best with your black eagle. Or perhaps it will do it’s best with me.

Malama pono on your journey. A hui ho Cyrus, aloha.”

Sonny Ray gently closed the old man’s eyes. It set off a flashpoint of emotions in both of the men. They sat upon the ground for perhaps an hour, watching over the old man, not wanting to give him up.

The sun opened its eyes, and began to look upon the world.

It was not concerned with who lived, and who died.

And it too, will always be.
As sure
as
the sun
will
rise
tomorrow.

Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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Black Eagle Dream

April 25th, 2022
A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 39

The two men sat in a booth drinking their first cup of coffee. Dwayne had been coming to this restaurant in Shiprock. since he was very young.

It was called, the Nataani Nez Restaurant.

They had ordered breakfast, and sat quietly. They had stayed up half the night talking, and were still hyped over the sparrows. “You know growing up around Cyrus I often observed how birds of prey always seemed to find him no matter where he might be. There were eagles, falcons, hawks, sometimes an owl here and there, and many ravens too. But I can never recall him ever having sparrows land on him like they did you,” Dwayne said.
“That makes two of us,”
Sonny Ray replied, smiling.
“Okay boys who ordered the scrambled eggs, fry bread, with a steak well done?” Dwayne raised his hand. Sonny Ray had ordered an omelette, a double order of fry bread, and two steaks medium well.
After giving the men their breakfast, the two men began to feast. “So after we go see Daniel then what?” Sonny Ray asked with a mouthful of steak. “Well, Cyrus asked me to return him to the area where we camped near Shiprock mountain. He wants his ashes placed in a small pile.

He asked me not to spread them.

Before he died he asked me to give you a portion of his ashes with a special request.”

Sonny Ray looked up at Dwayne. He put his fork down. “What might that be Dwayne?”
“He originally wanted all of his ashes spread at Shiprock, but after he met you, he wanted you to take him back home to the big island. Cyrus said he wanted you to take him to the river in Waipi’o Valley. Cyrus said you would know. A comfortable silence ensued as both men began to shut down gradually.
“Cyrus left you a letter, and a few personal effects he wanted you to have. I left it in my office at the house.”
“Okay,” was all Sonny Ray could manage. The two men finished their breakfast, and after thanking the waitress for her hospitality they paid for breakfast and left the waitress a nice tip. Fifteen minutes later Dwayne was pulling in the dirt parking lot of Daniel Falls. Dwayne turned off the ignition. “Can I ask you a question?” Sonny Ray said. “Sure, what is it?” Dwayne looked at Sonny Ray in earnest.

“Why does Cyrus want to be cremated, and left on the ground?” Sonny Ray asked.

“The way he explained it to me, was that if he was buried and not cremated the black eagle would not leave Cyrus.”

Sonny Ray raised an eyebrow in the direction of Dwayne. “Before we left Arizona Cyrus shared a story with me about a man he had come across while conducting a covert reconnaissance during World War II.

Cyrus met a man named Altair Ali in the jungles of North Africa. He told me what he knew about this man, and how he came to be connected with this storied black eagle. Altair, who was from Morocco, told Cyrus about his family, and their long history with the Black Eagle Dream.

After his grandfather died, the family noticed the black eagle sat perched near where his grandfather had been buried. They became concerned because the black eagle had not moved, nor had it eaten or drank in days.

Altair began to have dreams. Dreams about his grandfather, and this imperishable black eagle.

He dreamed of a hungry fire.

After relating to the older men of his village about his dreams, they came to the consensus that they should dig up his grandfather and cremate him. They built a funeral pyre and cremated his grandfather right away.”

“Dwayne that’s quite a story.” Dwayne nodded in the affirmative.

“Cyrus said after Altair and his family cremated his grandfather the black eagle not only took food, but became the constant companion of Altair.

Cyrus had built a small scaffolding in the large pit where Altair had died. After wrapping Altair’s body in a colorful blanket he had found in the dead man’s pack, he placed his lifeless body upon the pyre.

After starting a fire with the many punji sticks that remained in this pit, Cyrus climbed out and stood watching as the flames of the funeral pyre gradually consumed the Moroccan soldier.
From that day onward Cyrus and the black eagle were inseparable. Did you want to go inside?” Dwayne asked.

“If it’s all the same to you I’ll wait,” Sonny Ray replied. “No problem I should only be a few minutes,” Dwayne closed the truck door as he headed inside to retrieve his dear friend.

Sonny Ray decided to step down, and stretch his legs for a few moments. Sonny Ray could see the smoke from the forest fires in the distance. It was all over the news. Out of the corner of his eye the silent black eagle came into view. He reached for the large falconry glove on the front seat of the suburban. He slowly walked out to a alfalfa field across the way. Sonny Ray attempted to call to the black eagle.

It was not sounding so pretty, but he was slowly improving. The black eagle continued to circle. Sonny Ray did his best not to move around unnecessarily. His left arm shook slightly as he held his arm high to give the black eagle a target to land. The black eagle circled a few more times, and without notice swiftly landed upon the outstretched glove. As a few trucks drove by, several navajo families began to slow down to see what all the commotion was about.

Sonny Ray could hear his heart pounding. If he smiled any harder he might have broken his face. The black eagle stared intently at Sonny Ray.
He did not yet have the courage to even touch the large predator. As his breathing returned to normal Sonny Ray felt a great sadness come over him.

It occurred to him that in order for this magnificent eagle to rest on his hand, Cyrus would have to be absent.

Sonny Ray stood alone.

The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard. Dwayne walked out of the door. He walked down the steps carefully with the urn. He saw Sonny Ray in the field. The closer he came to Sonny Ray the black eagle appeared to become agitated. Dwayne, who had spent some time with the black eagle, wisely stopped short.

A small crowd began to gather near to where the men stood. Sonny Ray whispered something to the black eagle. He pushed his gloved hand upward, cueing the black eagle to take flight. They stood watching the large eagle until it disappeared from their sight. Sonny Ray walked over to Dwayne. Dwayne stood holding the urn.

He had such a pitiful look on his face. “Hey, listen it’s gonna be alright bruh,” Sonny Ray said. Dwayne nodded, finally looking up at Sonny Ray.

“Thanks for coming on this trip with me, I…. I would not have wanted to do this by myself,” Dwayne said.
“I’m glad to have come along, thank you for asking me to,” Sonny Ray said, breaking eye contact with Dwayne. They loaded up and headed back to town. Dwayne wanted a few snacks, and water before heading back to Shiprock mountain. He needed to fill up on gas as well.

“Hey Sonny Ray remind me to call my friend Nadia before we leave okay?”

“Sure. So who is this Nadia, your girlfriend?” Dwayne stiffened slightly. “No, not exactly, I mean I do like her, but I haven’t asked her out or anything.” Sonny Ray smiled at his now uneasy friend. “Hey, don’t sweat that man, things happen in their own good time.” The two men continued to travel down the road together, forging their friendship one mile at a time.

Later that day the two men located the narrow dirt road that ran adjacent to Shiprock Dike.
After a slow dusty journey they located their campsite. Dwayne parked, and the two men stepped down. Dwayne handed the urn to Sonny Ray. They hiked a short distance from their camp, near the end of the Dike, closest to Shiprock peak. They came to a small dirt trail that lead through a small out cropping of rocks, and boulders.

They began a short hike up a fairly steep incline. Both men struggled a bit. They wore cowboy boots, so it was a little slippery, but they managed. Dwayne finally reached the top of the dike.
Sonny Ray handed the urn to Dwayne. They stood listening to the wind blow. It was a warm but pleasant day. The sky was blue with a few whispery white clouds passing by. They stood gazing at the monument that was aptly named; ‘the rock with wings.’

Each man stood alone sharing their own ceremony of condolence, offering up their prayers like the sweet smell of sage.

After a few moments of quiet reflection, the men proceeded with Cyrus’ last request. Dwayne took the top of the urn and placed it on a small boulder. He slowly poured a goodly amount of the ashes into a pile on the ground. They stepped back to take in the entire moment.
The view was panoramic.
After a considerable time, the two men thought it would be good to take their leave. They started down the narrow trail. After a few minutes the men realized they had left the top of the urn. Returning to the top of the small plateau, neither man could envision what would happen next.

As Dwayne walked toward Cyrus’ remains to retrieve the top of the urn, the large black eagle approached flying low from the other side of the dike. It landed directly on top of the remnants of his old friend Cyrus. It startled Dwayne and Sonny Ray. The black eagle was highly agitated. With its pinions spread wide, the black eagle screeched in a high pitch.

The remains of Cyrus covered the legs, and the lower part of the black eagle.

It stood its ground in this sacred place, preparing to take Cyrus to a place to that which the two men were not able.

The eyes of the black eagle seemed filled with fury. It continued to cry out, as the two men made no attempt to come any closer. Without warning, the black eagle flew right at them. As it flew over them the ashes of Cyrus dispersed as a fine ashy mist.

The black eagle banked hard left in the direction of Shiprock mountain. The large predator continued to climb the sky, higher and higher it went. The two great rock wings seemed to be its destination. As both men continued to watch, the Black Eagle Dream flew right through the middle of the ancient wings. For a moment it appeared that it had continued on. However, in a short time the black eagle reappeared.

It landed upon one of the rock wings.

Both men spontaneously raised a clenched fist. Dwayne and Sonny Ray stood for a long time, watching, appreciating. Now it was time to leave. With hearts both heavy yet satisfied, the two men headed back down the narrow trail. The hushed winds of the desert began to swirl. Dwayne left the dirt road, and started down the highway.

Sonny Ray looked back to where they had left Cyrus. He watched until he could watch no more, as the landscape faded into another. The song of the winds continued to swirl in an ancient melody known only to the lonely; and the forgotten ones.

Little dust devils whirled around on the earth, that was Navajo country. In time, a large desert tornado came, and took Cyrus Keali’iwahamana away, to the four corners of the earth.

He would rest now.

Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved #blackeagledream
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