3.166 words Fiction story for WR241 Summer 2016 (Go to college or go back) CALF ROPERS a life line and a jerk line

Red Sky’s Divine Jerky Brine

      Another miraculous plateau dawn arose behind Red Sky’s back as she sat Indian style gracefully while stalking the northern slopes of the Umatilla Basin on the Umatilla River. She was dressed in her soft doe skin dress and the beads that decorated her dress told ancient tribal stories of Halfmoon fishing grounds when all four of the glacial mountains were cracking  their vertebras. The big mountains: (Mt. Hood, “Wy’East”, Mt. Adams “Pahto”, Mt Rainer, and Mt. St. Helens “Lavelatla”. Red, purple, and orange lava flows chased “The Timber’s” a giant furry Sasquatch people, whom lived off tree bark, into extremely cold tidal pools near Chinook Cannibal Beaches. The Timber’s drown a fast natural death in cold salt water at the Chinook Cannibal Beaches not without teaching the Crater Laker’s a survival tool to thrive in Oregon. The Crater Laker’s learned the sea salt brined the flesh of the drowned Timber’s and from there Divinity went into all their jerky brine from the death of “The Timber’s” on Chinook Cannibal Beaches millions of years ago.

     Red Sky’s Crater Laker bead work on her regalia was genius; it was sensitive to her cultural customs and her animal spirits that provided her wealth in this world. She also had matching moccasins that complimented her dress something fierce. Lovely Red Sky had minimal health problems reaching into her 50’s especially with her feet as they were in superb shape and the moccasins fit like a glove.

     The plateau seasonal round diet was paying her the dividends she desired in her small heart. A small heart goes into tight places making big plays. Her grandfather had bounced her on his knee and as always loved to bring out his grandfather’s sharp obsidian fillet knife. He had always instilled what kind of a heart he wanted his granddaughter to earn in this world and gave her ideals to work towards on her own.

     She was his baby girl, a calm Red night Sky, a pretty little night light without any batteries, a tiny member of the Big Band of the Crater Laker’s. He had told her that she needed to eat the plateau seasonal round and her heart would grow bigger than “The Timbers”. If Red Sky learned the commodity of timing and language use she could get into the nook and crannies, other Big Band of the Crater Laker’s were not allowed. Especially if they had the “Hate” blocks since those hate blocks would not allow people to meet face to face without contempt.   

     Red Sky recalled her physical health and her Grandfather 1910-Feathers had recommended for her to drink the pure lake water early in the morning.  The voices were still like yesterday, “Let “They” act out and be the butchers they are. The men are ready to screw you, and the women to buffalo stew you.” Grandfather 1910 Feathers would belly laugh. “Drink lots of lake water my divine granddaughter Red Sky.”

    Red Sky sat in meditation as the spirit of her grandfather 1910-Feathers a Big Band Crater Laker went away. As routine the sun rose and her sharp hazel/brown eyes peered in truth and harmony over her high set pure bred cheek bones. Red Sky scoped the desolate valley below then locked her wild eyes on a handful of deer (?imes Iwinat). The six deer (?imes Iwinat) ambled out onto a flat finger of the long canyons of the foothills and easily they walked through the thick sage brush one by one. In this quadrant of Oregon, deer (?imes Iwinat) and salmon were the majority of the protein from the plateau seasonal round. Nobody is ever alone on the plateau as she pulled out her hand drum to recognize her precious relatives the six mule deer (?imes Iwinat) who were browsing on the plateau plantation.

    Sky hated sharp noises, and was inclined to the sound of thundering hooves of horses, the passionate ways Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)  swept her off her feet after all these years, children playing games in the camp, and voices from her spirit visits during fasting and sweat lodges.

     Visiting spirits came to her through the difficult personality conflicts here in the flesh. She was often entertained by “wanting”. The “wanting” was a permanent handicap in the Crater Laker’s genome. The Crater Laker’s were manufactured upon “wanting” her grandfather had warned her.

Bang!!!  Bang!!!  Bang!!!

     The noise was overpowering to Red Sky’s delicate ears as she heard 3 reports from a high-powered deer (?imes Iwinat) rifle. Her man Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) had just harvested two of the fat browsing summer deer (?imes Iwinat) off the steppe below the old log cabin where Red Sky was watching the lower Northside basin. The three sharp reports didn’t upset her since they were favorable to the venison gambrels in the Crater Laker’s summer camp.

     A tear drop fell fast from her high brown cheek bone as she watched Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) expertly gut out the two slain deer (?imes Iwinat) down the valley. Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) was a warrior and a productive man before he was a game boy. What Red Sky got in return was a hunting man who took good care of his family first, which gave her natural self-esteem to pretty her hair by pulling it back in a ponytail making her feel sexual desire and intense burn for Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu). Tonight would be “bumping ugly’s” as they teased each other about how they made love celebrating Crater Laker’s rituals of All-inclusive life cycles with a big dose of bloody hard work.

     Red Sky used a hand drum and sang a song for blessings when the four-legged’s were sacrificed for humans:

Red Sky’s Hand Drum Song:

“Four legged deer (?imes Iwinat) browsing the plateau

Indians are the watch and time was borrowed

The tribe eats the plateau seasonal round from your yard

A feast of thanksgiving you left us happy with no sorrow

Time is only borrowed don’t steal our time

Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)  he shot fast and straight now but without an arrow

Four leggeds Crater Laker’s won’t do without or freely take

We won’t drink or eat what we can’t swallow”

 Red Sky was satisfied with her prayer tide of a song.

     Red Sky knew in the Capitol City the men and women pole positioned in big government buildings drinking bottled water, sitting at cubicles, carpooling, eating GMO food, and “they” would hate on something. “They” would hate on Red Sky for her tribal ways shooting the Crater Laker’s deer (?imes Iwinat). “They” would gang up and tell Red Sky she was being unkind to Creator because “they” The Strivers found themselves a nice short cut where “they” no longer subsisted off living close to the plateau seasonal round. “They” would ridicule Red Sky’s grandfather’s heart proverb when he spoke his wisdom into her heart and her hard work made it come true. Grandfather 1910 Feathers love was a genuine love not a material game or a trend. Grandfather 1910 Feathers loved little Red Sky like shiny deer (?imes Iwinat) antler buttons, like fog clearing up on the most important morning deer (?imes Iwinat) hunt, her grandfather instilled love into little Red Sky and now she was breaking bad spells against the Big Band of the Crater Laker’s Tribe. Diabetes wasn’t just an epidemic to exercise on the weekends. Sit in front of the TV all the time wasn’t just a soothing addiction to talk about in self-help group. Red Sky had the divine jerky brine to conquer it.

     Red Sky knew that it would take Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) a minute or so to get the two deer (? imes Iwinat) to the village and hang them from the gambrels. Usually they liked to hang their venison in the shade for at least three-days and the natural enzymes from the process of the decomposing would help make the meat taste less like sagebrush and other wild flavors from the field.  In Red Sky’s sacred countenance the deer meat could soak up her special brine and enter the old 1x12 smokehouses on Crater Laker’s spiritual grounds in summer camp.

     Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) came riding his pretty black cayuse mustang Quartz into the summer camp. Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) was riding a western saddle and leading two other Indian looking horses with appaloosa features like spots and short bristle tails. Both the appaloosas carried the four quarters of both the slain deer (? imes Iwinat) tied on their pack saddles, easily bearing the weight.

     “Red Sky, Red Sky the time for your brines my baby bird Meadowlark. You cute little birdie, I dumped us a couple nice Big Bucks” Said Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu).”

     “Yes Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)  I’ve been singing and hand drumming thanking our four-legged friends the last half an hour Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) . Tonight you’re in for some teepee creeping in my teepee so don’t get too stupid running away with your buck fever ha ha.” Laughed Red Sky as she walked toward her immaculately clean storage shack at the bunkhouse for Grouseboy’s (qaxno qtxnu) parents if they ever decided to get away from the Capitol City where “they” became another “they” statistic long ago when Grouseboy’s (qaxno qtxnu) little sister got cancer and the treatments involved staying in Capitol City for years on end and they decided never to leave since “they” adapted to the lifestyle and resisted to the Big Band of the Crater Laker’s “wanting”.

     Out of the red bunkhouse Red Sky dragged her oak fifty-three gallon Pendleton  Whisky barrels to start her jerky brine in, then set them in the shade on her solid glacial till stone platforms. Her recipes were the best and were saving the Big Band of the Crater Laker’s slowly but surely. Red Sky had been made into a cure all care giver by grandfather 1910 Feathers and he had passed down the sea salt theory in the brine medicinal. The body is known to have equivalent levels of salt as compared to sea water so it is a natural mineral/medicine craving to be replenished.

 

     Red Sky’s first brine recipe was Siletz –Acorn- Chetco soup AKA “Towner Terminator”. The brine was quite bitter and they “The Strivers” hated it. All her tribal members of Big Band of The Crater Lakers ate Siletz –Acorn- Chetco soup AKA “Towner Terminator” slow with government commodities oatmeal.

    For Red Sky’s “Fallout Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)” jerky recipe she scoops white water gracefully by the half-gallon from Hood River Falls; aging the free falling water in reused 90 proof oak Pendleton Midnight Whisky barrels. The fifty-three gallon whisky barrels provide an optimum flavor catalyst for the “Fallout Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)” brine recipe. There is little to no alcohol transferred diminishing the chances of a case of (AIDS) the American Indian Drunk Syndrome as all Crater Laker’s are under 24/7 surrender precautions from the smudge ceremony. The left over alcohol flavors wrestle their dysfunctional and maladaptive European ways, into the raw venison like a horsefly to an old nag in the barnyard. “Fallout Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu)” jerky is a moist, stringy, and tangy treat; naturally nourishing the life hunger as adrenaline rushes the five senses. An eating sensation produces a phenomenon such as riding capped white water rapids while free falling through the mindfulness validity of eating the plateau round diet for the medicine.

     Red Sky was always flexing her medicine wheel knowledge yet her tricks fooled the flock. She was a good shepherd to watch her flock and discern her Indian psychology keeping the medicine wheel one step ahead of the white buffalo calf pipe ceremony. In fact their pipe ceremony had been condemned when the pipe carrier got inside the sweat lodge to get warm on a cold day, but was passed out drunk and there he baked. The peace pipe warning was discontinued and no longer an exhibit in her court.

     The Crazy Whites became her all-inclusives and ran to the Crater Laker’s village to gain advice or miracles. These Crazy Whites made her mind run five steps ahead to learn how to avoid losing them to suicide and get them back to “they” sooner than later.

One day as she told a Crazy White goodbye he told Red Sky his story.

     “I’m going home to the Scottish Highlands in Scotland ASAP I’m an all-inclusive tribal member from here on out with the elements: earth, air, fire, water all intertwined with my spiritual being and identity. I’m not a diagnosis of WHITE or CRAZY! I will be happier and healthier without “they” and lose the humiliation and embarrassment of eating an ugly, unfriendly, unidentified, wrap, molded, soybean tofu, turd ball to please the leftist singers in Capitol City.” Replied the Scottish descendent Crazy White.

     “Scotty you found the answer. Loads of Crazy Whites have visited the Crater Laker’s just read my guest book. They have come here sick and left here feeling well knowing that it wasn’t their personality disorder and it was the underhanded pressures forced by “they” to conform to a broken plateau rounds diet. Once “they” broke this plateau diet law it didn’t take long for them to allow rape of the forests and unpredictable violence on the salmon. “They” preached about tough crime bills like Measure-11 in a community where “they” decide what violence is. Violence against the plateau tribes like us Natives and the all-inclusives our fish gods, the 4-leggeds wiped out by 75 m.p.h. and nobody serves a minute of jail for that road slaughter accident and wasted meat sitting and cooking on the side of the hot road while the little Indian kids eat U.S. governments WHITE CRAPPY bread.

     “They” in no shame will cover and bend over backwards for each other. If “they” eat at the smorgasbord and leave no food for the birds or the 4-leggeds all is fine for their good night sleep. The blame is on other people or “they” demand pharmaceuticals to fix it for them; yet the best scam is taking false prisoners and making an industry out of Institutions so “they” all have 400 parking spots to choose from and easy Union jobs. When and if “they” don’t perform well nobody cares, nobody has any power to fire anybody since “they” take care of themselves in a SOCIOPATH fashion.

 

     Take your answer and find a partner to plant your answer with, since two is better than one. In our plateau diet someone can feed you and love you, and you can feed them love in return. Red Sky said reassuring the Crazy White how to stay on the seasonal round diet of the Big Band of The Crater Laker’s path. He knew the truth that “they” were as or more guilty than him of the label of what “they” had wanted him to believe about the personality diseases and blames as they pole positioned for all their shortcuts.

     Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) loved the way Red Sky danced around the reclaimed fifty-three gallon Pendleton Whisky Barrels. He had remembered once how they had been prone to Powwow all night and walk away to seclusion and live for weeks on Indian love. Brine jerky, and the passion berries of the choke cherries; days of being so curled up and sucking face that the deer (?imes Iwinat) would walk right over the top of them not even knowing it was 2-Crater Laker’s. They had been such public displays of affection suck-faces they were voted to be thrown into the fire during a sweat lodge ceremony since they appeared to be erected of stone cold eroticism.

     “Hell.” The chief said One day. “Maybe the two could just be placed in the sweat lodge and we’ll just throw water on them from the abalone shell. The pure water has an ego to boil at 212 Fahrenheit and Red Sky is the legit West Coast Model and master of the jerky brine batches.”

     Red Sky only let on to be as old as anybody could guess. She kept up with the fast tempo as she filled her fifty-three gallon whisky barrels to the exact specifications of the cure-all recipe then secured the lids.

“Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) will you help me place the grandfather Teton stones.” Asked Red Sky politely.

     Sure thing we have choke cherry love to put into these “wanter’s” brine and if there is any hint of quarrel then we have been just as dividing as “they”. Said “Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu).

     “Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) aided Red Sky like they were in the circle beat of the drum with rhythm, transparent as they placed the grandfather Teton stones and the kindling into the out-of-doors fire pit. Red Sky waved her eagle feather over each Teton stone and revealed her goals to each before lighting off the kindling.

     “Teton, Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) and I are here today to see each other through lovers eyes even though we are older and our love is being divided by what our “wants” take from us. Teton, we want to be healthy in the time we go through our adjustments. Together, Teton, we ask for a season to have the fulfillment of the greed and also we will give back when we are asked and to act responsibly. Teton take the edge off and give us the eagle as an angel and take the rats to hell. Teton our health is wealth and we give an honest day to you. Teton cover our prayers in snow so nobody gets jealous of our prayers and your good deeds.” Red Sky sat with her prayer feathers on the pile of discarded grandfather’s and “Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) took her small hands and brought her gracefully to her feet.

     “Can you say the prayer for the pitiful stomach, Red Sky?” Petitioned Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu).  If it wasn’t for the stomach, an empty addicted pit; waging war, anxiety, worry, lust, contempt, hate, thrusting, thirsting, and spreading disease, greed, wasteful, stingy, and feeling loneliness…

“Grouseboy (qaxno qtxnu) if it wasn’t for an Indian’s stomach we’d never of known the brine or the division. We’d be wiped out.” Grinned Red Sky.     

          The division that separates “they” and “want” like the Tower of Babel points to “they” to do it right. “The power that “they” holds to do right leaves them under no obligations to tell the truth. If it is “they” against “want” “they” tells “want” it is raining, but reality says it is “they” pissing on “want’s” head, and “want” is condemned perilous by “they” for a personality disorder for being pissed off, for being pissed on for too long. The human condition is very corrupt when power and control over care taking is concerned and caring it is supposed to be a cure-all like “wanter’s” crave to fill a hole with Red Sky’s Divine Jerky Brine that cures wild buck deer (?imes Iwinat) meat and it keeps for months without acting up like “they” (a dirty batch)! Red Sky exclaimed in no uncertain terms.   

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