Chapter 22: The Concert

Darkness fell over the gathering’s final night, and Kathy moved onto the stage to prepare for her performance. Aside from the great bonfire, floodlights illuminated the dance ground and stage. Hundreds waited for her to begin while others mingled. Other ceremonies had concluded, and some attendees packed up and left, opening space around the grandstand for more guests. Kathy wore a black leather skirt, a light cotton blouse, knee-high leather moccasins, and a tribal headband with sparkly beads. Her shoulder-length hair was tied in a ponytail with a leather thong.

“Hello, everybody,” her soft voice boomed through the amplifiers. Heads turned toward the stage, and the group quieted. “Did you all have a good time?” She held her orange padauk guitar with a lavishly embroidered strap.

The response was deafening as they sensed and shared her bright spirit and energy.

“Well, that’s just disappointing,” she teased. “We’ll try to do better next year.”

The laughter and applause brought a devious grin to her face. She strummed a few chords, letting the notes echo across the fairgrounds. “I’m just teasing y’all,” she smiled. “Next year, we’re gonna blow your FUCKING MINDS!” Her shout was met with louder cheering. “Since the Gathering has concluded—I’m told alcohol is now permitted on the grounds...” She was drowned out by an audible cheer as hundreds of adult beverages were hoisted. “Ah, I see you heard that too.” The crowd laughed at her humor. She put her nose next to the mike and sniffed several times, “It smells like there might be a little... ‘sumpin-sumpin’ going around besides alcohol...” She grinned as the crowd cheered again.

She strummed a few more chords, then reached into her loose cotton shirt for a paper. “Before we start, I was asked to cover a few things since this is the last performance.” She unfolded the sheet dramatically. “So, without further ado, ‘we,’” she made air quotes, “thank the Apache County ... something or other, the Fort Apache Chamber of Commerce...” She paused, and the crowd chuckled. “Uh-huh ... Apache this ... uh-huh, Apache that ... uh-huh,” she nodded as the laughter grew. “And there’s a list of really important-sounding mother fuckers at the bottom.” She crumpled the paper and tossed it into the crowd. “Pass it around so everyone can read it!” she shouted over the laughter. A drumbeat sounded behind her, and she turned in surprise. “Oh, Micky! You showed up!” she called warmly to the drummer. “I was worried you forgot me.”

“No one could forget you, Kathy,” the man said into his microphone.

She turned back to the audience. “Everyone that is ‘Oh, Micky.’ He played drums for the Healey Brothers earlier, and I suckered him into staying and helping me out tonight. Give him a warm round, please!” She clapped her hands to the applause. She turned and looked sideways at the crowd. “You know why we call him ‘Oh, Micky’ doncha ... ladies?” she asked coyly.

A crowd of female voices began chanting, ‘Oh, Micky, you’re so fine! You’re so fine, you blow my mind!”

“Yes!” Kathy laughed, delighted, clapping her hands overhead. She shielded her eyes and scanned the audience. “Speaking of suckers...” she muttered into the mic, prompting more laughter. “Where’s my steel guitar guy?” She looked from side to side, pausing to wave to the Whiteriver clan on her left. “Has anyone seen an older, dashing George Strait look-alike?” She paused and pointed to a silver-haired man who stepped into the dancing area and tipped his Stetson. “There he is! What’s your name again, sweetheart?” She bent as he called back. “Desmond?” She straightened. “That’s Desmond, everyone. He’ll be back in a bit when we get folksy.” The crowd cheered, many clapping the man on the back as he retreated. “Don’t forget me, Desmond!”

She moved to her keyboards to test notes and riffs until satisfied. Returning to the center mic, she stood straight and took deep breaths as the crowd watched. “I’m Kathy,” she announced suddenly, and the large group to her left cheered and clapped, leading to another round of applause. “Some of you know I’m not an Apache by blood,” she continued. “I’m from the Puyallup tribe way up north in Washington State.” She let the crowd clap again. “But I’m here now,” she added, and the outcry to her left was deafening.

“Before we begin, I want to share an amazing story.” Her voice was soft and smooth, and the onlookers regarded her with expectant smiles. “You see, my last name was Parsons.” Another round of screaming from her left made her smile back at them. “But you see—there is this boy...” she grinned mischievously, and everyone in front of her turned toward the large group to their right that was freaking out and cheering. Many spectators looked back at her with curious smiles as she continued. “Well, this boy did something last night...” Again, the onlookers gazed in amazement as the Whiteriver crowd lost their minds and began yelling.

“Two-Spirit!”

“Yeah, Pete!”

She turned, looked at her friends, and laughed joyfully. “Yep! There he is!” she pointed. “Bradley! Put him down before you break him!” she ordered with a laugh.

Everyone saw the white man in the black hat bobbing briefly before dropping back to his feet in front of the clearing.

“That boy! Right there!” she called out loudly, pointing at him and smiling. “Y’all know what that boy did?”

Many in the crowd demanded an answer while the clan around him patted him on the back and jostled him.

“Well ... last night, that boy ... right there—gave me a horse!”

The gathering erupted with its loudest applause, filling the grounds with screaming, hooting, and cheers. When they quieted down, they found her sniffling before the microphone and wiping her eyes.

“And he made me cry!” she whimpered, causing everyone to share a warm ‘aah.’

Everyone watched as the man in the black Geronimo hat strode across the dance area. Kathy looked at him and began sobbing. “Oh, come here, baby!” she wept and crushed him in her arms after he jumped quickly onto the stage. He held her for a minute while everybody looked on—many became emotional. They heard him mumble to her, and she nodded with a loud sniff. “I love you too,” she replied. There was a warm round of applause as he jumped back down. He turned back to her and removed his hat, bowing like a matador before returning to their friends.

Kathy dabbed her eyes and laughed at his antics before focusing on the crowd. “Thank you everyone. Sorry for losing it. I’m good now, I promise.” She let out a deep breath. “Whew! No more crying.” She strummed a few chords as she wandered across the stage, collecting herself. “The funny thing about all this,” she said suddenly when she returned to her mike. “Is that I’m a fish-eater! I grew up on a fishing boat in Puget Sound, pulling Sockeyes out of Elliot Bay.” She gazed at the crowd with a perplexed expression. “What the fuck am I gonna do with a horse?”

Everyone laughed loudly as she made a face back at them.

“Ride it, stupid head!” a tiny adolescent voice shouted over the crowd, causing another uproar of laughter.

“Thanks, Charity!” Kathy smirked at the group to her left. The clash of a cymbal followed another drum staccato. “And you too ... Oh, Micky.”

Her fingers flew through the opening chords of ‘End of the Line’ and stopped as the crowd started getting into it. “Ah!” she grinned teasingly. “Yeah, I may not know what to do with a horse...” before strumming the next bars of the famous Travelling Wilburys hit and stopping again. “But I know!” She strummed a single chord. “That you know!” She ran through a quick and complicated run. “That I know!” she waved her hand toward the Whiteriver clan. “Just what the hell I’m going to do with THAT BOY!”

The crowd went wild as she leaped into the air and began the energetic song from the beginning. “LET’S FUCKING DO THIS!” she cried. “I wanna see some bodies kicking up dirt in that circle!” She pointed to the ground in front of her. “Here we go!” she finished and stepped before the microphone as her guitar belted out the chords.

“Holy shit!” Lenna exclaimed next to Peter. “She is really good!”

His sister was swaying and shaking with a Jack and Coke over her head. “Wait until she gets into it,” she replied, sipping her drink. She was buzzed and ready for a good time. Suddenly, she stopped swaying and gazed at the dancing circle. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!” she drawled. “Here, bro, hold this!” She handed her drink to him and swayed confidently into the crowd, heading towards the native twins who had changed into slightly less scandalous attire. They were swaying and twirling suggestively with each other when the blue-haired pixie joined them for a throuple grinding session.

“That didn’t take long,” Peter mused as he sniffed the drink, wrinkled his nose, and handed it to another woman nearby. She accepted it eagerly sipping it through a little straw.

“Your betrothed is a gifted entertainer,” Brad stated in his deep voice as his bride-to-be danced beside him.

“How long has she been performing?” Sue asked.

“This is only her second ‘performance’ in front of a crowd,” he replied. “Well, she did hold a concert during high school graduation,” he reflected. “But the school shut her down after an hour because it was getting out of control. Nearly caused a riot,” he grinned.

“She plays the flute like a wind spirit,” Nana Shima added from her elevated seat on the elders’ platform. Kathy often stepped onto Lenna’s house deck and played her recorder, making up tunes as they came to her. Her piercing notes echoed throughout the valley beyond the triple wide.

“Are you warm enough, grandma?” Peter asked as he glanced up at her. Like the others around her, she was bundled in heavy blankets to ward off the chill.

She nodded absently. “But I grow tired. This night belongs to the young.”

Sue followed Bradly up the steps to help the woman. He waved her back, “Stay and enjoy the show, babe. I’ll return in a few.”

Lenna turned to her niece. “Come, Char, help me get Nana and the babies to the motor home.”

The adolescent glared back defiantly. “No way, I’m not missing a second of this!”

“Charity!” her father barked as he helped his grandmother to her feet. “You will do as you’re told! It’s time for the young and old to retire.”

“No!” she snapped, crossing her arms in frustration. “I’m a woman now, and I want to stay!”

Peter grabbed her arm and spun her around roughly. She stared back at him in surprise.

“You’ve shown everyone else today that you’re no longer a child,” he told her firmly. “Now show it to me!”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears, and her lower lip quivered as he held her firmly. “But I want to stay and watch Aunt Kathy perform!” she whimpered.

“Nobody said you couldn’t,” he replied gently as he released her.

She blinked and looked at Lenna, who smiled and shook her head. “I’ll bring you back, sweetie,” she said soothingly. “Just help us take Nana and your cousins to the camper.” Two other women offered to watch the babies during the concert. Nana Shima would stay in the camper for the night, where it was warm and dry, with a collapsible crib for Abigail and Jacali.

“Ever heard of The Eagles?” Kathy’s voice echoed from the stage. The response was euphoric. “Good, ‘because you’ll hear a lot of them tonight,” she said, setting aside her guitar for the keyboard. She tapped the mic, smiled, and said, “We’re gonna slow it down, so get cozy with someone you love.” She played the lower keyboard to cover the bass guitar, then blended into the intro, smiling at ‘Oh, Mickey’ as he started the percussion. Applause erupted as the tune was recognized, and she saw the twins squealing before they dashed onto the stage. She smiled at them encouragingly as they swayed, waiting for the chorus. She turned back to the audience and leaned into the mic.

“Where’s my drink,” Ronnie demanded, appearing in front of her brother and looking at his empty hands.

He smirked back at her and pointed his thumb to the tipsy native woman nearby. “Raquel drank it,” he replied, causing the girl to gawk at him for calling her out.

His sister turned her head slowly to regard the other woman and stepped toward her with a sultry sway of her hips. “Well ... Ra—quel,” she purred. “You ... owe me ... a drink.” She gazed at the stricken girl with penetrating eyes.

Raquel hiccupped and blushed furiously, causing Ronnie to reward her with a devilish smile.

“I’ll take a slow dance instead,” she added, grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her toward the circle. “Come on.”

Sue laughed beside Peter and finished her beer before tossing the can into a barrel. She faced off with him and took his hand. “Shall we, Broken-Eagle?”

He smiled back and followed her into the slow-dancing crowd, “Yes, we shall.”

The small woman’s perfume gave him a heady feeling as she closed in and moved perfectly in step with him.

“You’re special, Peter Two-Spirit,” she mused softly against his chest. “Grandmother holds you in high esteem.”

“I’m rather fond of her,” he replied, smiling.

“Did you know she had eleven children?”

He gasped, “Holy crap! No wonder she is so strong.”

“Mmhmm,” the Navajo agreed. “She has over fifty grandchildren.”

“Jesus!” he muttered in amazement. “You’re gonna have a lot of in-laws, ma’am.”

She chuckled. “She doesn’t acknowledge half of them,” she added. “Bradly is the only grandson she considers worthy of his Apache heritage.”

“He is an honorable man,” Peter agreed. “I’m very happy for you two.”

“She considers you inde, as well.”

The revelation stunned him, and he missed his step.

“Hey!” Kathy interrupted her song with feigned chagrin, “Somebody keep an eye on those two down there.”

Sue laughed in her musical voice and pressed her forehead against his chest. He grinned and saw Kathy smiling and winking at him.

They danced through the song and then stood together, clapping. The twins hugged Kathy after she sipped her water.

“Thanks, everyone,” she said into the mic. “Give it up for these gorgeous darlings!” she smiled as Sharma and Reddi bowed to the hoots and whistles. “With looks like that, of course, they have the voices of angels,” she sighed. “Stick around, girls,” she told them quietly. “You’re incredible vocalists.” She took another drink and stepped back to her keyboards. “Alright, we’re gonna get a little ... tribal now,” she purred into the mic, fingers dancing over the keys. She began a familiar intro by Paul Revere and the Raiders, and the crowd cheered wildly. “Not sure how I’ll pull this off without rhythm guitar,” she muttered, frowning at her instruments. “But that’s never stopped me from trying,” she grinned, bobbing her head to the tense chords. “This is ‘Cherokee People!”

The twins began stomping their feet in sync with the beat, leading the crowd in a simple tribal dance as Kathy started singing,

“Oh, she’s good,” Sue smiled. “You two will be welcome in every hogan and teepee in the four corners.”

“What are you doing with my woman, Paleface?” Bradly grumbled, appearing behind them.

Sue turned and smiled brightly as she flowed into his arms.

“I was just teaching her how a real man dances,” Peter laughed.

“Hah!” the tall trader laughed, feigning a jab at his ribs.

The three of them stood in the circle as dozens of voices began ringing out, crying: