SWEAT LODGE

Written by Raw Ink

THE GHOST
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Johnny drove his four wheel drive jeep up the winding dirt road. He was on

the far side of the reservation. It was about the only place Homeland

Security hadn’t built a fence. Scattered empty plastic water bottles, tin pales,

and other forms of trash once used to carry water littered the land. Clothes,

weathered beaten suitcases, purses all made shadows in the desert. Each one

had its own story, some of happiness and others sad; some had good endings

and others with bad. They tell of the people of Mexico and their plight to

America the land of milk and honey. Some had been allowed to make their

mark in life, as every son of man should. For them all that were needed was

softer terrain. It was for some, just for a season.

The old man just appeared in the road and out of no-where. Johnny slammed

on the brakes. The tail end swung around and the jeep rocked to a stop.

Johnny’s heart sunk as he jumped out and looked underneath the vehicle,

then rush to the other side just in time to watch a coyote hobble away.

Puzzled, he turned and with the dust still clearing the Indian reappears

before him like a ghost.

Johnny jump back and said, “Jemmney Cricket!” The old man greeted him

in Hopi, it was Tom’s language. Although Johnny was Lakota, he understood

what the old man said. Johnny was a direct descendant of Red Cloud; and

his tribe spoke Dakota. The two languages were as similar as a porcupine is
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to a Doberman pincher, Johnny had met Tom in the Army where the two had

become friends. Being the only Indians in their unit, they hung out together

spending many nights exchanging stories, customs, and learning each others

language. The old man said he was a medicine man and was there to guide

him. Johnny thought his friend had arranged for the rendezvous, and nodded

to follow. The old man was wearing worn brown kakis and a baggy thin

button up gray long sleeve shirt. His long brown hair with streaks of gray in

it, hung to his waist. He held it back with a carefully folded red and blue

bandana. Covering his feet and tied up to his caves were hand made

moccasins. If the old man hadn’t been moving around like a ghost, Johnny

would have guessed his age between seventy and eighty.

INDIAN TRAIL
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Without saying any more, the old man point toward the base of a mountain

and began to run. Johnny decided to leave the jeep where it sat and pursue

him. The old man led him through a maze of huge boulders and sandstone.

Up above a bluff was an Indian trail, they climb over some rocks, desert

shrubs, and manzanita to reach it. From there the two continued zigzagging

up the mountain. The old man’s endurance amazed Johnny. When dust had

come they made it to the top. There Johnny stood on a plateau over looking

the vast desert of Mexico and Arizona. It’s beauty beyond words and he

wondered for a second, who other Indian stood here to share its power.

Behind him the old man stand patience letting Johnny absorb the treasure.

The two exchange smiles and the old man point to a set of Teepees further

out on the plateau. Johnny followed him into the smaller of the two.

Staring Johnny in the eyes for a minute, He motions him to sit. The old man

sat across from him interlocking his legs.

ONE WITH MANY WHITEMAN

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“I am Kick-like-a-Horse,” surprising Johnny to speak English. He points to

him self with his fist. His knuckles thump on his chest like a drum. Five

baseball size rocks, lay glowing where a small fire burn in the center of the

teepee.

“I am Johnny; I was invited here by Tom Grass. He was in the Army with

me some years back. Is he here?”

Kick-like-a-Horse’s facial expression changed. “Tom was my Grandson.”

Johnny asks, “Was?”

Kick-like-a-Horse said, “He was killed in Basra, Iraq a few years ago.”

Johnny’s voice crackled. His words slowed. “That’s impossible, he called

me a month ago, and he asked me to meet him here on this day. He invited

me here to the sweat lodge for a Rainbow sweat.”

The old man said, “I do not doubt you talked to him and you are welcome

here for a Rainbow sweat, but he was killed, April, 16th, 2008, in war.”

Johnny asked, “Th-th-then how did you know I was coming?”

Kick-like-a-horse said, “The Spirit knows many things.”

Johnny mind race as he stare into the fire, the laughs, the smiles, the good

times they spent while training at Ft. Knox and Bragg. Why would Tom

want his Grandfather to think he was dead? It was he on the phone, Johnny

was sure of it. Johnny could see Tom’s hand reaching to him, He could feel
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his voice.

Johnny had slipped and hung from a cliff. He was in full medal jacket, and

his gear weighs over one hundred fifty pounds. Tom is assuring him the

Great Spirit has given them medicine to escapes death, as he pulls him up.

There were many colorful symbols painted on the inside of the tee

pee. The old man stirs the coals that sit in the smokeless fire. A clay pot

filled with water sit next to him. He reaches under his belt and produces a

tiny leather medicine bag. He asks Johnny, “What did you and Tom do while

in the Army?”

Johnny replies, “Trained mostly.”

Kick-like-a-Horse stare at Johnny, then asks, “Trained doing what?”

Johnny answers, “We belonged to the Army’s Marksmanship Unit.”

The old man says, “You were Snipers, yes?”

Johnny answers, “Tom was, I was there for advanced weaponry training.”

Kick-like-a-Horse then asks, “What kind of weapon?”

Johnny answers, “The M107, 50 caliber riffle. It shoots an armor piercing

incendiary round.”

Kick-like-a-Horse asks, “There just to learn how to shoot a riffle?”

Johnny replies, “There is a lot more to it than one might think. There’s wind

drive, speed, ground distance, range, and more. Not just firing the weapon
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on the ground, but in the air aboard a Black Hawk helicopter. Once you learn

how to do that, you learned how to do it in the dark.”

Kick-like-a-Horse says, “Tom could see very well in the dark.”

Johnny said, “Yes he could, but things have changed. Technology enables all

of us to. We use the best night vision equipment available. Things like

optical color lenses, infrared, the Thermal Heat Imager, and CAMMS,

(Computer Assisted Man Maneuvering Systems.)”

Kick-like-a-Horse asks, “What is computer assisted man manuveri---?”

Johnny raises his hand and stops him short to say, “That’s top secret stuff.”

Kick-like-a-Horse laughs and says, “White man cannot keep secrets,”

Johnny answers, “This is true, but I am not a white man.”

Kick-like-a-Horse laughs again and says, “You are in the army. You are one,

with many white men.”

Johnny says, “I am not in the army any more.” Kick-like-a-Horse stares at

Johnny with a more serious look on his face. Slowly lifts his right hand

placing his forefinger beside his right eye, is quiet for a minuet and then

says, “I think you are, but you keep your secret.” Johnny was a good lair if

he had to be, and thought there was more to this old man then what meets

the eye. He wondered if his secret would get out, if Mother would be

exposed and his mission aborted. There were only a few people that new. No
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doubt they knew about her, but did they know about him and his mission?

He hadn’t spoken with her since the Pentagon tried to blow her up just a few

months ago. They new she had an abundance of fuel, frozen hydrazine. The

bit about her losing power and control was nonsense; she had been dormant,

saving her fuel. One thing Marine Gen. James Cartwright and the Pentagon

didn’t say was she has carries a nuclear warhead. He wondered how long

before they find out she tricked them by ducking behind a commercial

television satellite before shooting out into space and going stealth. Mother

contacted Johnny right before they shot at her, and told him of her planned

countermeasures.

Kick-like-a-Horse says, “The one thing about your technology is soon as

someone finds a new road to the unknown, another fines a way to throw

rocks in to block your path.”

Johnny says, “Your right, in the Army, there’s always countermeasures.”

Kick-like-a-Horse asks, “Tom, he was a good sniper, seeing in the dark,

shooting from a bird?”

Johnny answers, “A good Ariel Gunner is hard to find. Tom was the best of

the best, but as you must know, he had special qualities too. He---”

Kick-like-a-Horse interrupts smiles and says, “He had strong medicine.

Something only Indians know about. Something you can only get from a
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Rainbow Sweat.”

THE DIVINE CATCUS

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“Nobody enters Heaven except through me, and if anybody enters through

another gate, he is a liar and a thief and will be thrown out.” Johnny knew

there were many doors to the spirit world.

Kick-like-a-Horse removes a small piece of gooey plant from the medicine

bag. Raising his hands above his head while holding the plant, he begins to

chant. He then handed it to Johnny in one hand, and pointed to his mouth

with the other.

The Divine Cactus, also known as Peyote or mescaline. He

remembered when his brother had a bad infection from a cut he got while

playing in the woods. His Mother gave him a piece of the Mescal Button, it

fights bacterial infections. Johnny had thought at the time his brother went

insane and would never be the same. The next day he was normal, and

completely healed. Later his brother told him he dreamed he left his body to

fly into the future. When Johnny asked him what the future was like, his

brother started crying, so Johnny never brought it up again. Johnny hoped to

pass on this part of the ceremony. Kick-like-a-horse said, “There is only one

way to enter the spirit world. If you do not want to go there, then you can

leave now, I understand.”

Johnny had strong Indian beliefs, but thought about something his

Christian roommate in the Army had said. Glen was his name, he had said
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drugs were witchcraft; Johnny just thought they made you stupid. Glen said

the New Testament had been originally written in Greek. He went on to say

that the translation for the word witchcraft in Greek was Pharmacia. That as

it sounds he said is where we get the word Pharmacy from; also meaning

drugs. Pharmacia, Drugs, Peyote, Witchcraft, Spirit World, “thrown out”,

Johnny contemplated. He asked him self a couple of questions. Why am I

going to do this? Because after Tom pulled him up that day he slipped and

nearly fell to his death, Johnny told him, “I owe you one,” and that was Tom

on the phone? Weather he was here or over there, it was Tom. Johnny

answered, “I will go to the spirit world.”

THE SPIRIT WORLD

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The old man smiled showing a roll of yellowish teeth, minus a silver one in

the middle. Johnny took the large gooey marble size piece that the old man

handed him. He then squeezed it. It stuck to his fingers. He pulled them

apart, and said while examining it closely, “It sticks like bubble gum.” He

squeezes it again and rolls it into a ball with both hands. He put it into his

mouth and chewed. It tasted nasty, then not. It was a bitter sweet. He had a

look on his face like a kid whop crapped his pants might have. Soon it the

plant was down, but Johnny continued swallowing attempting to get rid of

the taste. The old man poured water into the fire and the dark Teepee began

to fill with steam. They began to drip. Johnny pulls his shirt off. He felt

strong. He smiled, he liked this. He sat there sitting cross legged nodding his

head and looking around the Teepee. He felt good, he felt real good. The

colorful paintings started to glow. He said, “I am and Indian.” He thought

that sounded corny, but thought, so what. So he said it again in Hopi as Tom

had taught him, “Lomasumi’nangwkwsiwmani.” He held his hands in front

of him, and then flips over bringing them closer. He laughs and says,

“Wow.” Then like a kid hand painting on a bedroom wall, he waves them

around. He was starting to hallucinate. Moving objects produce duplicate

images of them selves, as the eye reaction slows down. They call them

‘trails’. Johnny was tripping. He was on a good one.

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Johnny wants to ask Kick-like-a-Horse something. He raises his left

finger up trying to remember what it was. Then hold his breath as if that

would bring it out. The thought of it all becomes funny and he releases in

gust of hysteria rolling to his side.

Kick-like-a-Horse begins, “The doors you see are the doors to the spirit

world.” Again Johnny bust out in uncontrollable laughter. The old man

continued, “The Horned Beast is death, and rides the red horse.” Johnny sits

up and a more serious face is drawn. Shortly he could no longer see the old

man. He stood up and reached for the side of the Teepee, but there was none.

Reaching out, he panics in his new blindness. Johnny turns; arms stretched

walks and turns again. He becomes more frantic, spinning, reaching out to

the emptiness.

He cries out, “Hey Kick ah whatever, hey where am I? Hello-o-o,” then

stumbles in the darkness. A loud deep voice echo from above him, and he

stands looking up. As he hears the words spoken, so he came to see.

“You run with the wolf.” Johnny was now running in a dark forest. He jumps

a set of fallen logs, flying under thick branches, now faster. He is not alone.

Something is running with him, steps beside him. He slowly turn his head

and see he hunt with a pack.

The voice speaks again, and He finds him self on his toes, so high up,
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on a jagged rock peak. He then leans forward arms stretched out to his sides

to free fall. The air is cold and hard, and the tiny white clouds slap his face

wet. “You fly with the Eagles.” Johnny pulls his head back and his feet race

inches from the ground. He hears the hiss beside him and slowly turns his

head. There he sees flying beside him, its talons take it’s pray and together

they ascend. The voice, “You swim with the fish.” Johnny plunges into the

cold depths of the river; he twists and curls shooting its rocky bottom. The

current sends him to fly out and away from the falls edge. He hears the flap

beside him. He turns his head to see the school in flight, and then follows the

splash into the white foamy water.

He raised up to meet to meet the Bear, and his claws swing to send his equal

rolling down the mountain side.

The voice echo, “The many faces you see are the faces of your ancestors.”

Johnny looks to see many people gathered around a huge fire. Then one by

one he looked through their eyes to see what they know, just a single

moment, some fraction of time, an experience. He collects many life times

of wisdom.

There he see a large doorway, it was filled with wild white clouds. A soldier

comes running out of the cloud. He carries a weapon and is dressed in full

combat gear, it is Tom. He stops in front of him and is smiling, he lifts his
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right arm and points behind Johnny.

Tom says, “I brought you something old buddy, a gift.”

Johnny looks, it was a huge white horse, and its head was that of a man. He

hears the Medicine man, “He too is your ancestor.”

It had the face of an old man, given reflections; “A lamb held the reins in its

mouth, and he took the reins and mounted the horse. He was then handed a

crown and a bow, and told to conquer.”Rev.6:1

Johnny turned to thank him and he is gone.

Written in Raw Ink by Jeff Hairabedian