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What Goes Around Comes Around
I decided to put on my best powwow outfit and hide on top of a small tree-covered hill that routed the road. I could see the dust fly up from behind a vehicle coming this way. I transformed myself into “warrior mode” and painted my face with mulberries. I crept along the bank, alert and at one with the environment. As a truck approached, I let out a war cry and jumped out onto the road in front of the people driving. My turtle shield and deer-leg tomahawk flailed in the air as the drivers swerved and honked, wide-eyed and scared.
Just as I was about to send them off with my victory hoot, I was stopped short. Something was wrong; I could not see nor breathe. The cloud of dust from the truck engulfed me from head to toe. I choked and coughed, trying to spit and wipe the dirt from my face which instantly turned to mud.
I went back to the house and was caught in the kitchen by my dad who started laughing, “What happened to you? I did not know 6-year olds got mud facials!” I ran to the bathroom to wash up before anyone else could see me. I was still bored so I started looking for something to do inside the house. I found myself wandering around in my sister’s room. She was not home at the time and too bad for her because I found her box of candy bars that she was selling for school. I had hit the jackpot. I grabbed as many as I could in one hand then went back into “warrior mode,” trying to sneak them outside.
I made my way outside with five big chocolate bars. I let out my overdue victory cry that was muffled by a mouthful of chocolate. I sat there and ate all five bars one after another, but this time I painted my face with melted chocolate instead of mulberries. When I had almost finished the last candy bar, I spotted my sister coming up the driveway. I went into “stealth mode,” crouching behind tall grass. I sat outside until my dad yelled for me and forced me into “innocent mode.” He immediately asked me about my sister’s candy bars and of course I said, “No?” He looked at me with disbelief and told me to go wash up for a snack and story time.
I went down the hall to the bathroom and looked in the mirror at my chocolate painted face. I felt like an ass. My sister and I sat down in the living room in front of my dad. Smiling, my dad passed out a candy bar to each of us. I felt at ease, convinced that he did not know about my thievery. We started eating our candy bars as he told us a story that I would never forget. It is a story that I continue to tell my daughters to this day.
Once upon a time there were these three little Indian girls that lived out in the forest. Their mother told them to go and pick some berries for the evening meal. They found the berries and began to pick them quickly until all the berries were gone. They became tired and decided to rest in the shade and snack on the berries. They laughed and teased each other about their berry-stained teeth.
The teasing led to horseplay, and the basket of berries got knocked over. They were so caught up in their fun that they were oblivious to the fact that they stomped on the berries. The youngest girl noticed and showed them what they had done. The youngest one asked, “What are we going to do? There are no more berries!” “This is your fault,” said the second oldest, pointing at the oldest sister. “I have an idea,” the oldest replied. “We will say that a bear came, scared us away, and took all of our berries!” So they all agreed on this and began walking home.
When they returned with an empty basket, the mom asked them, “Where are all the berries?” and they all replied, “A bear came and took all of our berries!” The mom looked at the girls with their berry-stained teeth and said, “That’s okay, get washed up for our meal.” The mom brought out a stash of berries she had from the week before. She gave each of the girls a plentiful amount and warned them not to waste any because of the shortage of berries. The girls listened and finished all the berries and then went to bed. The End.
“What happens next?” I ask. “Nothing,” he says. “That is the end of the story, now go to bed.” So I went to bed thinking, man that was the worst story I ever heard in my life! I remember lying there thinking about how I could tell that story better until I fell asleep. I was awakened the next day by the sound of water running from the bathtub. I got up and watched cartoons, still thinking about that dumb story my dad told me.
I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and half way through eating; my stomach clinches up, then my butt cheeks. I gallop stiffly down the hall and pound on the door yelling, “Dad! Dad! Open the door, I need to go.” “Go outside!” he replies. “I need to go number two! Bad!” I grunt. The water shuts off from inside the bathroom. I hear the rattling of the lock on the door and I’m gritting my teeth, “Hurry, hurry.” But it was too late, my poor little buns cramped up, and I had an accident. My dad opened the door, looked at me, and said, “Well, at least you know the ending to that story from last night!”
Brandon LaMere is a first year, first generation student from Sioux City, IA. He represents the Winnebago and Dakota Sioux tribes respectively and attends Little Priest Tribal College in Winnebago, NE. LaMere says he wants to become the first in his family to obtain a degree at the college level and to be a good role model for his children. His goal is to get a Ph. D. in Biological Systems Engineering with an emphasis on Health.