Sosoni

I met with Bert Headley, and he invited me into his living room only after I paid him. I spoke to him about my "research." I also mentioned the conversations with my gas station guy in Crenshaw.

"Alrighty, what do you want to know."

"I want to know if there really was a family that stayed behind—that decided to go native."

"There was six Lemhi family groups. One decided to stay, and as the story goes, they did."

"Who were they?"

"Chief's son's family. Kid's name—hell, he was just a kid then—was Tonjadika, I think. Pretty young wife and one kid, practically an infant."

"They had a child?"

"Yep. Little one.

"The guy—he was the chief's son?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't he go with the other families?"

"He's an Indian; how the hell should I know what he was thinking?"

"What year was this?"

"Oh, 1998, maybe 99."

"Twenty years."

"Yep."

"So, the kid would be about 21 or 22 now?"

"Sounds about right."

"What happened to them?"

"No idea. Kamewaititti told me about them stayin'. I never saw him again to ask him about it."

"Who is that?"

"Kamewaititti? A Shoshone. He was one of the heads of the families."

"And he left?"

Headley nodded. "With his family."

"How can I find Kah-may-why..."

"Kamewaititti."

"Right."

"The hell for?" Headley asked.

"My book. Further research."

He watched me for a long moment, and then said, "Far as I know, he lives up in Fort Caldwell on the reservation. Find him there."

I had him repeat the Chief's son's name, so I would know it: Tonjadika.

I hit a decision point. Fort Caldwell was about two more hours away, and it was nearing 5:00 pm. Even if I could find Kamewaititti, he might not be interested in speaking with me, especially at night. Plus, I would have a five-hour drive back home.

Fuck it. I'm going, I decided.

I hit Fort Caldwell at quarter after seven, and I walked into the convenience store at the edge of town and asked about Kamewaititti. Nobody had heard of him. I asked about any Shoshone families in the area, and the guy directed me to a bar.

I went to it.

I didn't belong there, and the patrons were coldly silent about my presence. I sat down at the bar, and the bartender never once approached me.

I spoke to the man next to me, asking him about any Shoshone in the area. He stuck out his thumb and pointed behind himself at a table in the corner, around which sat four Native Americans.

I went there, waited to be acknowledged, and once I was, I asked about Kamewaititti.

Met with silence, I told them I would leave as soon as they told me where to go.

One of the men flipped a used Keno card over, jotted down an address with a black crayon, and handed it to me. Back in my car, I mapped it and drove there.

An old woman answered the door, and she let me in after I introduced myself and asked after Kamewaititti. She pointed to a chair, and I sat next to an old Indian man, about the same age as Headley, watching basketball.

"Are you Kamewaititti?"

He looked at me, said nothing.

"Bert Headley sent me. I wanted to ask you about Tonjadika and his family."

He looked at me.

"They stayed behind?"

He looked back at the game and shook his head. "They went into the forest to live."

"Do you know where?"

"Miles and miles west of where the Salmon River meets Saddle Creek."

This would put them in the general area of where I met Sosoni.

"When was that?"

"Spring of 1998."

"Why did Tonjadika and his family go into the forest?"

He quit watching the game, studied me for a few moments, and then he told a story.

Tonjadika's father, the chief, was a bit of a radical. He believed for the tribe to thrive, they must integrate with American culture and civilization. He did not even want them to go to a reservation, but as a stepping stone towards complete integration, he convinced the tribe to move to Fort Caldwell for ten years, and then to leave it.

Tonjadika's mother was the daughter of the old chief, a man who raised his family in the old ways of the forest. Tonjadika's mother taught her son these ways, and the child loved them. He grew up, married, and had a child. About this time, he learned of his father's plans. He rebelled against the decision, and the chief was very angry. Nevertheless, Tonjadika took his wife and their small child into the forest when the rest left for the Fort Caldwell.

"How old was Tonjadika when he went into the forest."

"Oh, 22 or 23. His wife must have been 19 or 20."

"They had a child?" I asked.

"Just a baby then."

"What was her name?"

"Her name? No, his name."

This floored me. "What?"

"They had a son, a one-year-old son." Then he told me the boy's name.

I didn't even hear the name. I was totally flummoxed. This was impossible, I thought. A Boy? Have I been pursuing the wrong lead? I asked, "What happened to them? Did no one ever visit them?"

Kamewaititti nodded, gravely.

He explained that about a year after the tribe moved, the chief, his wife, and several others went to visit Tonjadika and his family in order to convince them to come to Fort Caldwell. Tonjadika refused to even see this delegation, but his wife spoke with the visitors.

She told them that the child—the son—had recently died. The visitors could see that she was pregnant again. Even so, Tonjadika was bitter, blaming his father, the chief, for moving the tribe and its resources away. The last thing she told them was that Tonjadika ordered them never to return. So, no one had seen or heard anything of them since.

I asked, "What was Tonjadika's wife's name?"

"Okoweney."

"Has anyone ever tried to see the family again?"

Never, he told me, for the chief made it clear that his son, Tonjadika, and all his family were to be forgotten.

"Are there any remaining family? For Tonjadika or his wife—Okoweney? Any relatives?"

"Cousins, but it is no matter. Tonjadika and all of his family are forgotten."

I made to get up, but another question occurred to me. "What does Sosoni mean, in your language?"

"People."

I offered him money, and he refused, but his wife took it. I left and drove home.

I had a lot to think about.

Based on Kamewaititti's tale, Sosoni must have been born in the Winter of 2000, making her 18 years old. It seemed about right from her energy and exuberance.

It was a terribly sad tale, though. She had a dead brother that she probably never even knew existed, a father who resented and disowned his own father, and a tribe that had "forgotten" them all.

Her parents couldn't possibly be alive, given Sosoni's shock at seeing me. Yet, they would only be about 40 years old now. So, what had killed them? Certainly not old age. How old had Sosoni been when it happened? I imagined she could not have been more than ten, and probably younger—much younger. What kind of miracle was it that she had survived? How strong a person to survive alone? The blood of two Shoshone chiefs, perhaps more, ran in her veins.

I pulled into my house after midnight, and the days of travel, on foot or otherwise, had taken a toll. I crashed, and I didn't wake up until just before 11:00 am the next day.

I scrambled to gather up my things. I threw together a hasty lunch and was going to give her my good knife as a present, along with a leather belt to carry it. I hastily punched a few extra holes in for her waist size.

And, because I was giving her my knife, I decided for the first time since the day I saw her, to bring my pistol. I would have felt naked without some protection.

I left after midday, and I felt bad that I was going to be late for our lunch appointment. So, I drove the four-wheeler a mile or so further down the trail, but still out of earshot from the lake, or so I imagined. I was certain that the sight of this machine—the sound even—would frighten Sosoni.

I made it to the clearing just after 1:00 pm. She had already laid out the blanket.

I called her name and waited. I dropped my pack near the blanket.

I called her name again. Then, I heard a terrifying sound. It was her. It was a guttural howl. I ran toward it, knifing through trees and scanning.

She lay on the ground, looking up. She was pale. There were slashes across her new coat and blood underneath. More slashes ran across her legs and the blood on her feet and ankles made it look as if she were wearing red socks.

I picked her up and carried her back to the blanket. Her eyes, wide with terror, stared at me as she made urgent, hoarse sounds. She shook her hands, and as I wrapped the blanket around her, her voice boomed with panic.

She was trying desperately to communicate something to me. The next sound I heard told me everything I needed to know.

I spun toward it.

A mother fucking grizzly bear, fifty yards out, bounded right at me, its bellowing roar still echoing across the valley.

Sosoni screamed; I may have, too.

My hands darted for the holster at my hip, unbuttoned it, and drew the pistol as the monster blitzed. I saw its teeth and its eyes.

I chambered a round and immediately fired it into the air. Sosoni shrieked, but the piercing report did nothing to ward off the bear.

I had three seconds. I leveled the pistol at the bear's face and squeezed the trigger, slowly and smoothly for the first shot. I got two more off, aiming center mass on its chest before I curled into a ball.

The impact was like getting hit by a car. I was fortunate in that it was a glancing blow; the grizzly's center of gravity—which certainly would have crushed me to death on impact—passed over my body. Its hind legs slammed into me. I rolled and skidded twenty-five feet, hitting the trunk of a tree on the edge of the clearing. I scrambled to my knees and discovered my shooting hand was empty.

The pistol lay on the ground near Sosoni where I had been hit.

I rose to my feet and a shock wave of pain emanated from my right knee. I limped over to the pistol, searching for the bear's return.

I heard a low growl in the trees, and I ran, despite the agony, to get the gun. It looked operable. I knelt by Sosoni, taking the pressure off my knee when I saw it—the bear.

It stood on all fours, unmoving, partially hidden by a tree trunk and about ten yards from us. It seemed to be glaring at me. The first movement I saw was the rise and fall of its chest, and the breathing produced a low rumble. It was missing an eye, and its face was a mask of bloody fur.

The bear faced us directly, so I ensured the pistol had a round chambered. Then, I got up and began walking to put myself on the beast's flank. Sosoni screamed and clutched for my feet.

I kept my eyes on that grizzly.

It wasn't dead, of course, but I had hurt it. I just didn't know how much. That the bear did not move almost seemed more alarming.

I moved closer to the massive body.

It still hadn't moved.

I knelt down and aimed just behind its great front leg.

The head turned toward me. Its jaw gaped, and a stream of blood plummeted toward the ground.

I shot. The bear's head reared up, and it bellowed. I shot three more times at its heart. Then, it sank down. After a few seconds, it's back no longer rose and fell.

I limped over to it, put the gun to its head, and made sure it was dead.

After making the gun safe, I went back to Sosoni. She grabbed for me, and I knelt down and held her hand. I smiled at her, and then I put my pack on. I re-wrapped her in the blanket and lifted her up. Fuck, my knee hurt, but she was light.

I carried her, and we passed abreast of the grizzly's body and it's annihilated head. Sosoni gazed at it, and then she said my name. I smiled at her, but she looked at me with something like reverence in her expression.

I wanted to show Sosoni I was strong, and I did not stop—not even once—to put her down and rest my knee. Why was I trying to impress a woman who just witnessed me going toe to toe with a fucking grizzly bear and winning? I don't know. She was the kind of woman, I guess, that I never wanted to stop dazzling.

She fell asleep or passed out as we neared the four-wheeler. I sat her in front of me and wedged her between my arms on the grips. Then, I raced home.

I parked the machine and carried Sosoni inside to the guest bedroom. I cut away her clothes, all the new ones, and surveyed her wounds. I had a first aid kit, so I spent the next several minutes stopping the bleeding, but I knew I had to call Charles.

"Hey, buddy. I need you up here."

"You hurt?" he asked.

"No, someone else is. Grizzly bear."

"Call 911 for crying out loud."

"I can't. It's gotta be you."

"Why?"

"Come up and I'll tell you."

"That's two hours up and back! I can't just call it quits right now; I've got patients waiting."

"Please, Charles."

"Are you in trouble?"

"I promise you, Charles, there's nothing illegal about this. I'm trying to protect this person."

"How bad?"

"Not horrible, but bad. Not dying, I don't think."

He didn't say anything.

"Please."

"On my way."

He hung up before I could thank him.

I cleaned her wounds as best I could. Then, I turned off all the lights, shut the blinds, drew the black-out curtains, and cloaked Sosoni in darkness.

When Charles arrived, I intercepted him before he reached the door.

"Thank you for coming. I can't even tell you."

"Let's go."

"We've got a minute. She's sleeping."

"She? Your ex-wife?"

"No. Someone else."

"Okay, let me have it."

I gave him the quick and dirty version, putting emphasis on my fear of overloading her psychologically by suddenly immersing her in modern civilization.

"Are you saying she's a wild woman?" he asked.

"I'm saying this woman is like someone from 1750."

"Great balls of fire."

"I know," I said.

"Okay, what are you asking of me?"

"Do whatever we can do to avoid overwhelming her. Sedate her."

"Look, buddy, now that I'm involved, so is my oath. I'll sedate her if it won't hurt her. I'll treat her here if I can, but if she needs help that is beyond what I've got here or back at the office in McCall, I'm taking her to where we can heal her body. If that screws up her mind, so be it. My duty is to keep her physical body healthy. Can we agree to those terms?"

"We can."

"Then, let's go."

He did, in fact, end up sedating Sosoni. When he finished examining her, he turned to me and said, "We need to get her to my office. I don't think there are any breaks, but there might be." He pointed to a few places. "And I'm worried about internal bleeding."

"Okay."

I took Sosoni in my Jeep, and we drove down to his office in McCall. It was nightfall when we arrived; it was after 9:00 pm when he gave me the news.

"No breaks, but it's a pretty bad ankle sprain."

I nodded.

"You'll need a good brace."

I nodded.

"No internal bleeding that I can find."

I nodded.

"I'll write you a script for what she needs—antibiotics and pain killers—but you can take her home."

I stood. "Thank you, Charles." I shook his hand.

"Now, let's get a look at that knee of yours."

It was a sprain. No other major problems for me. When Charles finished, I thanked him again.

"Ah, it's nothing. Forget it," he said.

"Send me the bill. Seriously."

"Alright."

"Oh, can I get another sedative for her; I want to keep her out for, say just 24 more hours."

"Why?"

"I want to get her out of my home, back in the woods."

"What for?"

"Charles, I need to ease her into modern civilization. I'm going to take care of her out there."

"Care for her in the woods?"

"Yes. Any problem with that?"

"Not if you keep her wounds clean."

I left Sosoni at Charles' office and made a supply run. Lots of clean water, food, bandages, prescriptions, and some new clothes for her. A couple of new blankets. When I returned, Charles gave her one more dosage of sedative, wished me luck, and I drove Sosoni back to my home.

There, I packed out for an extended stay in the woods. It took me a few hours to get everything ready. In the early morning, I drove us all the way to near the clearing.

With Sosoni resting peacefully on the blanket, the first thing I wanted to do was get rid of the carcass of the grizzly. I dug out a large area around the body, clearing it of anything but dirt. I surrounded the bear with charcoal. I put charcoal all over the top of the dead beast—a big bag's worth. In total, three bags of charcoal went into this operation. I doused it in lighter fluid and set the carcass on fire.

The blaze raged. I fed it with dead branches. The smoke and smell were overpowering, but the fire slowly consumed the fur and dead flesh. I kept running into the forest to gather up more dead branches. After two hours, the fire reduced the bear to a pile of ashes and bones. I used a bucket to douse the smoldering embers with water from the little lake. A gentle breeze carried the fumes away.

Checking my watch, I knew Sosoni would be coming out of her sedation soon. I staged the food in anticipation of her being ravenously hungry. Everything set, I waited for her to wake by brushing her hair. If I had known what a pain in the ass that operation was going to be, I probably wouldn't have even tried.

Sosoni came out of her sedation gradually. She watched me while I drug the brush through her extensive locks.

She licked her lips, and I brought her a cup of clean water from my supply. She drank it lustily, and I brought her more and more until she was sated. She winced in pain a few times, and I helped her sit up. She saw the food, and I brought it to her.

The instructions on the pain medication informed me that it had to be taken after eating. I knew Sosoni must be in great pain, but I needed her to eat, first. I wrapped another new blanket around her and helped her eat a sandwich and grapes. I could see that hunger and pain vied for supremacy. At some point, she just put down the food and rested.

I mixed the pain medication in with some water, and I gave it to her. She drank it.

I stood up and collected the trash. Sosoni said my name. I turned to look at her, and with her good arm, she pointed at the tree.

Jerk off? Now? I shook my head and crossed my hands in the air: no.

She pointed at the tree again, and she began crawling to me. I ran to her and lifted her up, holding her and shaking my head. "No, Sosoni."

She pointed to the tree and said my name. Evidently, this was part of our ritual, and she was not going to allow it to be neglected, no matter how much she hurt.

The hell with it. I carried her to the tree. She knelt and tugged on my pants with her good arm. I helped pull them down. She shuffled on her knees in front of me. She grabbed my growing cock and pulled to me to hardness.

He face was just inches in front of my cock, and she alternately watched it and me. The pain medication had not yet taken effect, and it was kind of amazing to see her work through the distress so that I could cum.

When I moaned and began breathing heavily, Sosoni opened her mouth. She inched closer to me, her gaping mouth poised to collect everything I gave her. Oh, shit.

I grunted, felt the spasms, and pushed forward. The underside of the tip just rested on Sosoni's tongue when I came. I watched it trickle, gush and then loose into her mouth.

She drew away, and I watched her swallow. Then, still stroking my cock, she aimed me down and over the water. I leaned against the tree to put my hips across the edge of the lake. A dribble spilled out the tip and fell in. She milked the shaft a few more times. The last dregs, however, hung on the tip, and Sosoni gathered it on her finger. She let her hand fall into the lake and rubbed it off her finger with her thumb. Withdrawing her hand, she watched the fish snap it up.

I yanked my trousers up, and then I helped Sosoni to her feet. I carried her back to the blanket and set her there. A few times, she moaned in pain. I laid beside her, draping my arm across her tummy. She turned to me, and our faces were close. We gazed at each other.