Powwow Summer, page 10
“Aren’t you dancing today?” Jodi asked.
“Nah, maybe tomorrow. Just not feelin’ it yet, even though Noki put so much work into it. I’m too shy.” River shrugged her shoulders.
“Yeah, I get it . . . Oh my god, cousin, you have to come to the 49 with me tonight. Everybody is going to be there. Let me put my number in your phone, and you can meet me here after dark.”
“Ho-kay. But what’s a 49?” River asked.
“Ever good, Riv,” Jodi laughed.
“No, seriously. What’s a 49?”
“Oh, Riv, you’ve been on the farm for too long. It’s like a powwow after-party. It’s really fun, I promise. Just don’t tell your dad you’re coming. He probably won’t let you go.”
River nodded. Would her dad actually stop her from going? After the night at the bar, she didn’t think so. “Okay, cool. I’ll be there.”
Everyone was getting up out of their chairs. The echo of the emcee’s voice calling the dancers to the arena rang through the air. As the dancers entered the arena, everyone turned their bodies and bounced up and down. They shifted their weight from one foot to another to the beat of the drum. River felt a shiver in her spine as the vibration of the drum beat in her chest.
She looked at her jingle dress, and wondered what it would be like to be up there dancing. She caught her nokomis’s eye. Grace was smiling at her.
Chapter 20 The Song Sounds Good
Minataagwad ngamowin
River: Hey Jodi, it’s me Riv.
Jodi: Hey CUZZIN!! U coming to the 49?
River: Yeah, I’m just gonna take some stuff back to Dad’s. I’ll be there. Prolly half an hour.
Jodi: K. Text me when ur close and I’ll come and meet u. Tell your dad you’re just coming over to visit.
River: Kk.
Warm water soaked the facecloth that River ran over her face and neck. She patted her face dry and applied a little makeup. She put on clean panties and a clean bra instead of taking time for a shower. Her hair got tossed into a messy bun. She tucked her favourite red bandana into her back pocket, in case she got all sweaty again. She brushed her teeth and smiled in the mirror.
She heard her mom’s voice. Clean up after yourself, and don’t leave your stuff all over the bathroom sink. River tidied up the bathroom, leaving it just how she found it. Her mom always made her make the bed when they stayed at other people’s houses too. “Leaving a house and not making the bed is poor manners,” her mom always said. “And never arrive empty handed.”
Her mom’s words were always in River’s head. They were starting to haunt her. She knew her mom would be asking 1,492 questions if she could. She would want to know every detail about the powwow, about the 49. River smiled to herself. She loved the fact that there weren’t 1,492 questions to answer. And it wasn’t like her dad would try to stop her. She texted Jodi.
River: Be there in 10 minutes. I’m walking over.
Jodi: YES!!
River wandered to the back of the powwow grounds. She went past the Sundance area and into the bush. Cedar hedges tickled her bare legs as she trailed behind a line of strangers. It was still black fly season, so the mosquitoes weren’t that bad. With one arm raised, shielding her face from branches, River followed the glow of her cell phone as it shone on the pebbled path in front of her. I wish I had my head lamp, she thought. The stroll into the bush reminded her of when she was small. She used to spend hours playing behind the barn and in what seemed to be deep forest to her young self. She would spend hours yapping at the farm animals and making tiny villages beneath the willow trees.
The sound of laughter grew closer. A line of strangers before her paraded between two huge boulders that served as the grand threshold to the 49. When she looked up from the path in front of her, she saw women gathered around a circle of men. Each man held a big drum by the loops on its side with one hand, and pounded it in unison with leather-wrapped drumsticks. The women’s voices were higher than the men’s as they sang a familiar round dance song.
Goosebumps raised under River’s long-sleeved shirt, and her heart fluttered. She felt like she was home, even though she was worlds away from where she grew up. Girls barely old enough to be up past eleven held beer cans in the air as they belted out a Nikki Minaj song. Watching them as they sat on the back of the truck tailgate also reminded her of home.
River wandered around the clearing. She noticed that most of the guys were dressed like rappers, some with coloured bandanas. They were spitting lyrics faster than lightning. When River spotted her cousin, Jodi’s back was turned to her. River snuck up behind her and poked her in the ribs.
“Hey, cuzzziiiin,” River whined in her best rez voice.
Jodi wrapped her arms around her cousin’s neck and smooched her on the cheek. “Look at my gorgeous cousin from Ontario, hangin’ with the real rez girls now. Breakin’ your 49 cherry too. I saw that guy you were looking at today at the powwow. He’s over dere.” She puckered and pointed with her lips.
As they laughed and took selfies, River pulled the red bandana from her back pocket and poured some water over it. She used it to pat her face, then placed it on her ankle where she had been bitten by a mosquito.
The gang of girls cackled. Normally River was shy, but she wasn’t going to waste any time. Jodi would tease her if she didn’t drink. And it was only beer, not like the rum she had been drinking at the bar. After she downed two tall boys within half an hour, she felt like she was letting loose. Her legs were numb and wobbly beneath her. She swayed a little, grinning, hoping no one noticed. The girls around her were giggling, and so was she. But she wasn’t sure they were all laughing at the same thing.
Suddenly shrill calls interrupted her buzz. Even River knew what that was about. A fight.
“Carmen, no-o-o-o! He’s a Northern Rebel!” A girl by the fire was begging her boyfriend to stop fighting.
A sea of ponytails and messy buns swarmed around the brawl. So did cell phone cameras.
“That guy is a Northern Rebel, Jodi?” River slurred.
“Oh my god! Shut up, Riv.” Jodi elbowed River in the ribs and whispered in her ear, “Yes, that’s a street gang here in Winnipeg. Really scary shit. Don’t let anyone hear you talking about them.” Jodi shushed her cousin again, and dragged her by the hand toward the crowd. River grabbed her bandana from her ankle so she wouldn’t lose it as they rushed into the crowd.
Once she was closer, the sound of the two men grunting and the drunken folk encircling them was strange to River’s ears. High school fights didn’t sound like this at all.
“He has a knife!”
Everyone in the circle took one step back.
The guy on top, the Northern Rebel, had a knife to Carmen’s throat. “If I ever see you in town, you’re going to be just another dead Indian,” the Northern Rebel snarled, just loud enough for all to hear.
To River’s fuzzy brain, it was like being in the middle of a news story. She held up her phone and snapped a photo of the two men on the ground. She posted the picture to Instagram. Then she posted a selfie of herself and Jodi.
The Crazy Crees is a REAL THING YO! #farmgirlinthecity #49 #ontherez
Soon after Carmen stumbled away, the crowd broke up. After a few minutes, everyone seemed to settle down. Things went back to the way they were when River had arrived. Her phone chimed several times, but she ignored it. This was her first 49. She didn’t want to have her head in her phone all night.
River spent a few more hours with her cousin and some new friends, drinking and laughing and dancing. She was surprised at how friendly some people were, and how unfriendly others were. Some glared at her with looks of contempt. She didn’t let it bother her too much. She knew she would probably never see any of them again.
Chapter 21 I Cover My Head with a Handkerchief
Nda-maangokwediz
River rolled over to the sound of a barrage of chimes from her cell phone. It was not how she wanted to wake up the morning after the 49. She barely opened her eyes to read the messages. She reached for her water bottle. Her mouth was dry, her breath wretched. Her head was pounding.
It wasn’t clear who was messaging her, who was commenting on her Instagram photos. She was stunned to find more than a hundred comments on one of her pictures. Her number of followers had gone from 67 to 367 overnight.
WTF? she thought.
She opened the photos — mostly selfies of her and her cousin and her friends from the 49. She swiped through and saw the picture of the two men fighting. She couldn’t remember posting it, but there it was. Her sense of urgency to read the comments grew as she scanned them. The whole time she wondered why she would post something like that on Instagram. Her judgement must have been skewed by the many tall boys she drank. Her forehead wrinkled as she started to read.
@SSCXO: @Riverrunsthroughthefarm You better step off B*TCH!
@Rezsister: @Riverrunsthroughthefarm WTF FARM GIRL. You’re so dead.
@49lover: @Riverrunsthroughthefarm You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into squaw. Watch your back.
She sat up straight in her bed.
Oh my god, what have I done?
She leaped out of bed and ran to the front door, her socks sliding down each stair. She went outside to make sure she had perfect cell phone reception. She texted her cousin.
River: JODI. WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Jodi: What do u mean?
River: Check my Instagram
Jodi: Oh shit.
River: What?!
Jodi: You pissed off one of “the girls” from the Northern Rebels. Why in the hell did you post that picture? I told you to not even talk about them, never mind post a damn picture! And you have a damn red bandana in your hand! OMG I didn’t even see that! OMG, you are gonna eat so much shit from this.
River: WHAT!? WHY! I had a mosquito bite! What is happening? What kind of shit? By those pictures? I didn’t even realize I posted them!
Jodi: Yeah, um, you should probably take them down.
River: YES. Ok I’ll do it now.
Jodi: K let me know what happens.
River: Kk.
River scrolled through and deleted all of the photos from the 49. She hoped that this would be the end of it. The end of the comments and threats. She decided that posting some kind of response would be a good idea to clear the air.
@Riverrunsthroughthefarm: Please forgive me for my mistake. Photos have been removed.
River headed into the kitchen to find her dad.
“Dad,” her voice cracked.
“What is it, Riv?” Her dad looked up with his eyes wide.
“I think I made a big mistake last night.”
“Why . . . what? Tell me.”
“Well, me and Jodi ended up at the 49.” Not technically a lie, she thought. “I think I had too many beers. And Jodi and her friends and I were taking selfies. And then there was a fight, and I guess I took some pictures,” she rambled. “I posted them on Instagram. I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time. And I woke up to like a million new followers and hate messages. I don’t know what to do, Dad.”
“Geez, eh.”
“Dad. What do I do?”
“Well, did you take them down?”
“Yes. And I posted an apology as well.”
“Let me see the pictures you posted.”
River scrolled through her photos and showed him one at a time.
“Well, first of all, you posted the actual fight. Geez. That’s terrible.”
“DAD!”
“No, I mean it’s terrible the way kids are carrying on all violent and stuff.”
He continued to scroll. “There, that one, look at this picture. You’re taking a selfie with these guys in behind. You have that red bandana in your hand, and they have on white bandanas.”
“Bandanas? What do bandanas have to do with anything? I had a mosquito bite, and I was hot. I poured water on it. It’s just a BANDANA. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Well, it does to them,” her dad sighed. “Different coloured bandanas are a gang thing.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me this? Now what do I do, Dad? I apologized, but like, now what? Is everything just fine now? Like, I don’t have to worry?”
“I don’t know, dear. What are they going to do about it? Sit behind their keyboards firing threats at you? Big deal. Change your account or something.”
“Gosh, what a mess. I don’t think it’s that simple. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Dad.” River could see the sympathy in her dad’s eyes for her innocence. But that didn’t help her now. “I think I’ll just lie low for a bit on social media. I can’t read all those nasty comments. These people don’t even know me, and they are saying all kinds of mean things. There are even threats.”
“River, it’s a different life out here,” said Eric. “The communities here are not like the ones in southern Ontario. It’s like where you live is in this bubble, different from the rest of the country.”
“What are you talking about, Dad?”
“I think you are really lucky that you have been protected from all of this. But that can get you into trouble. What you did — posting pictures of you with a red bandana in front of people fighting wearing white bandanas — upset people. Maybe they thought it was some kind of turf thing. Remember, Riv, they don’t know who you are. They don’t know that farm girls from southern Ontario have no idea what bandanas represent here in this city. They have no idea that this is a foreign world to you.”
“Well, now what?”
“I guess just wait it out and see, babe.”
“Okay.”
Grace was listening to the exchange between her son and granddaughter. She piped up from the living room, “River, come here for a sec, my girl.”
River walked into the living room. She curled up on the couch beside her grandmother, holding her arm and resting her head on her shoulder. Her nokomis smelled like Lily of the Valley perfume.
Grace rested her wrinkled hand on River’s. “River, don’t let them bother you on the inter-web like that. Just stay off of there for a while. Maybe spend some more time with your granny. Maybe spend some more time at the powwow in your healing dress, or maybe with Mother Earth. She’s a healer, you know. You can send her your feelings.”
“You know, Noki,” River said, “that sounds like exactly what I need right about now.”
“Wanna head over to the powwow, my girl?”
“Yes, I do. But somehow, I don’t think that’s the best idea for today, Nokomis.”
Her grandmother nodded. “What if we spend the day in the garden? You can give all that pain back to the earth.”
River had no idea what her nokomis meant by that. But she patted her hand. “That is an excellent idea, Nokomis.”
River started upstairs. But then she turned and came down again. “I only have this crappy elastic that doesn’t stretch anymore. Or this red bandana, which I’ll never ever wear around here again. Do you have anything I can use for my hair, Noki?”
“I have just the thing, my girl.” Grace stood up and climbed the stairs.
“I had to look in a box under my bed,” Grace said as she returned down the stairs. “This is something your old granny made a long, long time ago. I made it when my hands still worked really well and I could do a lot of beading. I was on a plane going to Germany with your dad, and we ended up meeting this old Crow man. He taught me how to use these tiny beads. They’re size fifteen, called Charlottes.”
Grace placed the beaded barrette in River’s hands and covered them with hers. “This is yours now, River. When you’re a nokomis, you can give it to your granddaughter. You might want to give it your daughter. But if you can wait, there’s something special about gifting it to your granddaughter. You have a different kind of love for your grandchildren. You’ll see.”
River felt her eyes welling up at her nokomis’s soft words. She looked down and saw the beautiful contrasting colors. She could see that the Ojibwe floral patterns were old, from way back in the day. River thought it made the barrette even more special.
“Miigwech, Nokomis.” River smiled and squeezed her nokomis tight.
August 8
What have I done?! I don’t know. And I can’t even guess at what it means. I don’t think anyone is hurt by this, right? I think I just made a ton of people upset. I can’t believe the pics would spread that fast.
Dad might be right. I guess I am sheltered and naive. Is life here always this dangerous? Does every single teenager live like this? It can’t be true. It just can’t be. Maybe I’ll find out more when I go to the sharing circle on Saturday. I hope they will listen. I hope they can help me.
Why didn’t Dad say anything about how dangerous it was until it was too late? He was fine with letting me go off with Russell. At that party I saw guys wearing red bandanas. They must have been gang members. It’s all very well to call me naive now, but why didn’t Dad try to keep me out of trouble? And I have the feeling that his idea of waiting this out might not be the best way to deal with it.
For the first time since I got here, I feel like I really need my mom. Dad and Noki are awesome, but I’m starting to feel really sad and really scared. So much has happened in the last six weeks. Things have been going so fast. I feel kind of lost, and that I’m missing things. I’m mad at myself for not dancing at the powwow. Who cares if I can’t stop on the beat. Maybe if I had danced that day, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
Why did I drink? That’s what Mom would ask me if she were here.
I would say I drank because I was so uptight and tense and stressed. If I think about it, I see it’s probably because I’m trying to be something or someone I’m not. I don’t know if it’s me trying to be more Native. Or less Native, if that makes any sense. Like how can you be more or less Native than you are?
