EXCERPT FROM M.R. - CHAPTER ONE

Sun Bear told Morning Star that free food would draw people like flies. He was right. Two hundred people showed up that rainy Sunday afternoon to eat lamb stew and fry bread in the great circular room of the church. They came out of curiosity for the most part. The advertising called it a Potlatch, not a familiar word to most people. But the second line said “Give Away’ and that was the hook. He wanted as many people as the room could hold to announce publicly the formation of the new tribe. When they’d secured the round church he told her it was a good sign, that it would be a great day. The room was like a kiva and he said the folks from the Indian Center would know this was a sacred event.

Star had never heard the word potlatch before a month ago when they had begun working steadily getting this organized. She stood off to the side of the room, her blonde braided hair decorated with thongs that hung down her back and quail feathers nearly reaching her waist. A beaded headband encircled her forehead. She was wearing every medicine object she had. Every feather had meaning, every bead had been sewn in prayer. She had put them all on to strengthen her for what promised to be another very long day. As her eyes scanned the gathering she felt the ache in her gut return. She looked for Sun Bear.

He was easy to find in any crowd in his old, black cowboy hat. He usually threw it in the back of the car when he traveled. The creases were crinkled and dusty, but successfully covered his unruly black hair that wasn't coarse and straight like most Indians’ hair. It was soft and full and usually tangled if someone didn't brush it for him. His plaid shirt was dutifully tucked in behind his huge turquoise belt buckle that marked him as prosperous, along with two turquoise rings and a row of the bright blue stones on his gold watchband. Somehow his baggy Levi's and worn black boots added to what she now understood was his charisma.

The word had never meant much to her before last fall. She associated it with fundamentalist preachers and canvas tents surrounded by a sea of parked cars in dry, dusty fields. But she had experienced his magnetism the first time she laid eyes on him. She'd met him with a group of parents from the Free School her son went to. They'd heard he was a good storyteller. They were hoping he'd come regularly to talk with the children about Indian life. But as she was introduced she felt an electrical current pass through her that was unexpected and unexplained. She rounded up the littler kids and took them across the street to play. Her body was reverberating, down to her fingertips, and she had no idea why. She resolved to give him plenty of room. He felt dangerous.

He was motioning to her from across the floor. “Morning Star, come here and meet these people. They live down by Santa Cruz.”

She walked over, extending her hand to an older couple whom Sun Bear had been speaking with for quite some time.

“Morning Star is one of our tribal sisters. She and her husband, Grey Wolf, began our first survival camp, Medicine Rock. It is up above Placerville. Frank and Jenny have property in Santa Cruz they might let us use for the winter. How many acres was it again, Frank?”

“There's three that are level, and seven all together. I was just telling Sun Bear that we are considering trading it for some kind of income property. In the meantime, there’s a small house there that’s not being used, and the well was just re-drilled. Tell me about Medicine Rock. By the way, Morning Star’s such a lovely name.”

“Thank you, I like it. Well, we’ve been there at Medicine Rock since November. We started out with about eight of us and several children. There are 20 acres. It’s a mining claim, so we will be improving it each year to maintain the claim. It's full of manzanita, there’s a pond and some ponderosa pines. It’s quite nice now that we've begun the gardens. There’s a cabin, but we use it only for cooking, and folks have their own campsites for privacy and comfort.”

“How many children do you have, Star?” Jenny turned warmly toward her.

“Star is taking some time in the city to help us out,” Sun Bear said, ignoring the question and putting his arm protectively around her. She realized she was holding her breath as he gently squeezed her shoulder and turned to face Jenny directly.

“We have two camps in Sacramento, one in Elk Grove, and one in Davis where we’ll be harvesting fruit. We harvest for the commercial growers and then take a percentage of the crop for our winter food supply.”

Jenny was unaware he had diverted the topic. “How do you preserve the fruit? Canning or freezing?”

Star refocused on the conversation with this gray-haired woman who looked so conventional in her light blue polyester suit. She wondered what brought her today.

“We actually dry most of the fruit. We lay it out on long screens, cover it with cheesecloth and let the sun do its job. We are trying to live in the Old Ways, not to rely on electricity or gas. Of course learning these skills takes time and a lot of patience. For the time being, we're also driving cars and using telephones! How did you happen to come to our celebration today, Jenny?”

“Well, I teach literature over at the University at Davis. We often have Sun Bear over for dinner. He is such a fascinating man. This tribe of his sounds very intriguing. You know I’m too old to be changing lifestyles, but you young people have so much to learn from him, and from the Indian way. I traveled in the southwest last summer and met some lovely Indians who were selling jewelry by the side of the road. Now you know that really cuts out the middleman! Just sitting there under their shade roof, letting their kids play right in the dirt, and selling this amazing turquoise and coral jewelry!”

Suddenly conversations stopped as the sound system whined and howled for a moment. Then a smooth, confident male voice began welcoming the people.