Page 6 - My FlipBook

Wasichu

Red Dove and her brother carried their kill through the forest
to the clearing. Walks Alone moved steadily ahead, the bird
slung over his shoulder. Red Dove followed until they came to

the glistening stream their mother loved.
“We have a surprise!” Red Dove called when she saw their
mother sitting on a lichen-covered stone.

Falling Bird smiled at her handsome son. “What have you
got there?”
Resentment curled inside Red Dove. Why does she always

look at him—and not at me?
Walks Alone threw the bird on the ground and grinned.
“A turkey,” he said.
“But I’m the one who brought it down,” Red Dove blurted.

The look of shock on her mother’s face frightened Red
Dove. “What? Have I raised you so badly that you do not

know your place?” said Falling Bird. “Girls don’t hunt—unless
they have to.”
Red Dove bowed her head, filled with sudden shame.
“These things are taught so we can live in balance.”

“Yes, Mother,” Red Dove said. Why is it I can’t ever seem
to do things right? Is it because I’m half white?
“Listen,” her brother said and cocked his head. They all

heard it then: the clatter of cart wheels and the beat of horses’
hooves. Soon, they saw the source of the sound.
Wasichu! Red Dove thought. White people… sometimes

they bring food.
She scrambled towards them, but her mother pulled her
back. “Wait here.”

But Red Dove wasn’t afraid and her curiosity was stronger

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