Chapter 33

Kotyit, with a young man standing beside him, watched the young man approach followed by his two girlfriends. Looking at the trio, there was no way to mistake them for anything other than whites. He hoped the other students wouldn’t be too hard on them, but knew that hope was slim. This was the Native American College, not Paleface College, and the students would be reluctant to embrace whites living on their campus. At least he was wearing blue jeans rather than the red robe. That one bright spot was undermined since the red head was wearing a blue robe.

Approaching the main building of the Native American College, Oscar paused and looked around. The architecture of the buildings seemed to be an ad hoc mixture of different styles. There were buildings that looked like they were made of adobe that served as dorms. There were several buildings with what appeared to be long houses attached that served as entrances. These were the buildings in which classes were held. A single modern style building served as administration. Turning to Debbie, he said, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Kotyit stepped forward and said, “Welcome to the Native American College.”

“Thank you,” Oscar said.

Debbie looked around and said, “It is pretty here.”

“This is David Bear Claw. He’ll be your guide until you get settled in,” Kotyit said.

“Nice to meet you,” Oscar replied looking over at the young man. He guessed the man was a second year student at the college.

David Bear Claw just stared at the three whites and shook his head. He was not happy about having them on campus. It was even worse that they were Druids. Like many others, he grouped the Druids with the New Age conmen who were ripping off the Native American culture. He folded his arms and glared at Oscar.

“Friendly,” Oscar commented to Debbie. Georgia was angry and the look she gave David Bear Claw was almost enough to flay him alive.

“We do not normally have coed dorms, but Oliver said that the three of you would have to room together. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your room,” Kotyit said ignoring the tension. He gestured to the adobe style building.

The trio followed Kotyit to the dorm and dropped their stuff inside their room. Although the outside appeared to be an adobe complex, the rooms inside were just standard dorm rooms. They followed Kotyit to the cafeteria where he handed them three meal cards. “Since we won’t be issuing you regular student IDs, this card will allow you to buy your meals.”

“Oh, so I guess I better carry it with me all of the time,” Oscar said.

Debbie asked, “How do we use it?”

“Just give it to the cashier and they’ll charge your meal against your balance,” Kotyit answered.

David Bear Claw, the young man who had been accompanying them, asked, “How do they do it at the Druid College?”

“Our meals are free,” Debbie answered looking at the card. She was thinking that it would make a nice memento of her visit to the college.

David Bear Claw grunted and said, “Figures. White man school.”

Kotyit stopped and looked at the young man with him. In a soft voice, he said, “The Druid College is a sister college with ours. Oscar and Debbie are not the first students from there that we’ve hosted.”

“Who was the first?” David Bear Claw asked.

“William Redman Carter.”

Oscar nodded and said, “William told me about his time here. He really enjoyed it. He mentioned something about putting a rattlesnake in a bed.”

Kotyit laughed and said, “Yes. Talks With Animals did put a snake in my bed. Of course, the snake had promised him that he wouldn’t hurt me.”

David Bear Claw stared at Oscar and asked, “How do you know Talks With Animals?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” Oscar answered. He wandered off to see what the food looked like in the cafeteria. It wasn’t quite the quality of the food at the Druid College, but it was better than the food in the Army.

Debbie looked over at David Bear Claw and said, “They are very good friends.”

Kotyit looked at Debbie and said, “I’ll take you over to your laboratory. The Druid College was kind enough to donate all of the equipment that you’ll need.”

Looking at Kotyit, Georgia said, “I thought that John Carter funded this school.”

“He did, but we can always use more equipment as the school grows,” Kotyit answered.

The next morning, Oscar was led out to a wooded area along with the rest of the first year students. It was the first day of school and they were to participate in what had become a school tradition. They were told to make their way to a teepee on the far end of the woods. On the way, seniors, who were using standard whiteboard markers as if they were knives, would try to mark them. Even if marked, the students were to continue onto the teepee. The goal was to reach the teepee without getting marked. In practice, the goal was to reach the teepee with as few marks as possible.

Four hours later, Oscar strolled into the teepee without a single mark on him. The rest of the students were waiting for him. Without exception, each looked miserable. The students were covered with a patchwork of red, black, blue, orange, green, and yellow. Squatting just inside the door, he asked, “What happened to you?”

“We got caught,” one of the young men answered.

Flipping one of the markers, Oscar said, “Looks like twenty of them found you.”

“It was a bunch,” the young man said shaking his head. He had been walking through the woods and one of the seniors had grabbed him. Before he had known what was happening, they had drawn all kinds of things on him.

“Hey, where did you get that marker?”

Looking at the marker in his hand, Oscar grinned and said, “It’s a long story. You guys aren’t the only ones who look like they were in a paint factory explosion.”

At lunch, thirty very unhappy seniors were all seated around the cafeteria. Each of them was marked with a red line across their throats. The other seniors were teasing them about letting the white man sneak up on them. Although none of them was willing to admit it, they were actually pretty impressed that Oscar had managed to make it through the course unmarked.

Carrying his tray, Oscar sat down next to Georgia and said, “You would have had fun out there.”

“Kotyit said that women weren’t allowed,” Georgia said with a snarl.

Smiling, Oscar said, “That doesn’t mean that we can’t repeat the experience this weekend.”

Grinning, Georgia asked, “Should I go over to where all those unhappy people are seated and see if I can’t make arrangements for me to try the course?”

“With or without me?” Oscar asked.

“I’d like to try it alone,” Georgia answered looking at him as if daring him to say that she couldn’t succeed.

“Have at it,” Oscar said with a smile.

Watching Georgia walk over to the seniors, Debbie leaned over to Oscar and asked, “What are her chances of doing as well as you did?”

“Pretty good,” Oscar said. He knew just how good Georgia was in that kind of situation. She’d give the seniors a run for their money.

Georgia returned to the table a few minutes later and said, “It’s all set up. They weren’t exactly willing at first, but changed their minds when I said that I was normally your partner in war games like that.”

“That’s it. Ride on the coattails of the master,” Oscar said polishing his finger nails on his shirt.

Georgia playfully hit him on the shoulder and said, “I’d rather ride on the face of the pussy slave.”

Sticking out his tongue, Oscar said, “That can be arranged.”

The next day was spent in his four classes. The first class of the day was representative of his entire day. An instructor sat at the front of the classroom telling stories from different tribes about the creation of the universe. With each story, the instructor would introduce the tribe from which the story originated. The students were seated on the floor around the storyteller listening intently.

Confused, Oscar listened to the stories wondering when the lesson was going to start. He had understood that the class was about Native American culture. At the end of an hour and a half, the instructor dismissed the class. Once the other students cleared the room, Oscar asked, “When does the regular class start?”

The instructor, a middle aged man by the name of Pale Elk, turned to look at Oscar with an amused expression on his face. The confusion on Oscar’s face reminded him of another student who had been in his class years earlier. He answered, “It started today.”

“You just told stories,” Oscar said.

“That’s true. It was my first lecture of the class.”

“Isn’t this class on Native American culture?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, it is,” Pale Elk answered enjoying the obvious confusion on Oscar’s face.

“I don’t understand,” Oscar said.

“How else is a student to understand our cultures if it isn’t through the stories that tie the people of a tribe together?”

“Stories?” Oscar asked. He had expected a lecture to covering where each tribe lived, what they ate, and how their tribe was structured. Instead he had gotten stories about animals that weren’t quite animals.

“Yes, stories are what make a culture. How many children are raised listening to stories of Cinderella, Robin Hood, and Snow White and the Seven Dwarves? These are what give people a common vocabulary and starting point for their interactions with others. The stories told by white men are all around us, but what you heard today are our stories,” the man answered.

“What was I supposed to get out of the stories you told today?”

“I told the stories of many tribes today. Maybe you should have recognized that I not only told you the story of those tribes, but I also told you how those tribes differ,” Pale Elk answered.

“Okay,” Oscar said feeling very uncertain about his course of study. He asked, “Is there a book with all of those stories?”

“No.”

“How am I supposed to study them?”