They snuck up behind the tall white thunderbeast and peeked around at the bench. There, sitting above the chalked outline of Gerald’s fallen human form, sat the largest man on Sunset, larger even than the largest man of Mother Earth, who was RedOak of the Summer Mountain Cousins, who died fighting Don Tinoco’s horse soldiers alongside DeathSong during Meadow Hawk’s Battle.
The man was weeping: alternately sitting back and putting a thundercaster called handgun to his head; and hanging his head forward. He was apparently trying to contact an ancestor and did not know how, and was therefore contemplating killing himself.
As a medicine-man it is your duty to assist this man in his communion and keep him from killing himself.
I will do so Father.
Gerald whispered in his ear, “Loog at da size a dat sombitch! Whad da ya tink he eats?”
Three-Rivers likewise whispered, “We must go to him.”
“So you is da captain a dumbass ideas. Boy, you neva approach a Black Man wit a gun in ‘is hand.”
“Gerald, he needs us.”
“Ah, no; he needs yer dumbass. I’d like ta ride down behind ya. But you ain’t thick enough ta stop a bullet—bail time!”
With that Gerald jumped down behind the SUV’s wheel and peeked through his tale, which he held before his eyes as if it would conceal his presence.
That is no sin and does not break your sacred pact. After all squirrels are renowned cowards.
The weeping giant was just pressing the mouth of the gun to his head when Three-Rivers made his appearance with praying hands. “Sad-morning-of-sorrow to you giant. I am Three-Rivers, a medicine-man of some repute in my home. Can I assist you?”
The man did not have as big a voice as one would suppose. “I can do it myself. Get kid.”
Gerald could be heard from behind the tire, “He’s crazy boy, krraaazzy.”
Three-Rivers walked up to the man, coming to just above his bent knee. “What is your name?”
The man lowered the gun and looked down at him, eyes wet with tears and red from woe. “Redbone, T.T. Redbone. Look, I’m in trouble, and you need to be elsewhere when they find me, get.”
“T.T., I too am a criminal and am doing the move-and-hide called on-the-run. You have a nice thing for getting around there. Perhaps you could give me a ride?”
“Kid, what is your problem?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!”
Get him focused on your plight to forget his own.
He climbed up on the man’s lap and began to sit back. Then he noticed the arrow wounds in his chest and the welt on his bald head. “So you are a warrior. How did your battle go?”
“A little too good actually. Why am I talking to you?!”
“Oh, you asked about my problems, and did seem most sincere. So, here I sit on your leg to tell my story. Where would you like me to begin?”
“I don—like at the end maybe! Look, you got to go kid. Get away, go.”
The man was obviously intent on self-killing and did not want to harm the mind of a child in this fashion. He had now lowered the gun and it was resting in his hand across the back of the bench.
“T.T. you remind me of a friend I had back in Mother Earth—I think they call it ‘The Past’ here, and I know Mister Fred calls it ‘The Philippines’. Before I continue with my story, I was wondering, since this seems to be a place of the transmigration of souls, do you recall your previous life—the most recent one actually?”
“Okay, Three-Rivers? Alright, I don’t know who you are, what your problem…”
“We are getting to my problems T.T. But first, I want to know if you are reincarnated, and if you recall your previous life, and if so, how did the process…”
Just then T.T. screamed like a girl as his gun fell to the grass behind the bench—and there was Mister Gerald Hicks to the rescue; crouching like a fierce killer squirrel on the back of the bench, tail straight up and bushy, eyes narrow and penetrating, “Boy, I’m ‘bout ta mess maself ‘ere. His hand is bigga den me!”
Thankfully T.T. seemed to fear squirrels, and was sitting in stunned silence, with an open mouth big enough to stuff a gourd into, maybe even a small pumpkin! At such times a medicine-man must ‘rise to the occasion’ as they say on Sunset.
Three-Rivers stood on the man’s gigantic thigh and spread his arms as if speaking to an assembly of warriors, “T.T. Redbone, meet Mister Gerald Hicks, recently reincarnated from wino to squirrel on this very sacred spot. Well T.T. shake hands—I guess extending a finger would do.”
He then switched to squirrel, “Gerald, shake his hand.”
Then, reluctantly, with fear on both sides of this startling parley of the dead and near-dead, the fat old squirrel grasped the fingertip of the weeping giant and made friends. T.T. remained nervous. “Did I pull the trigger? I mean, is this it—Hell?”
“No silly man, I don’t believe in Hell. Do I look Spanish to you? I’m a Longhouse-boy called Iroquois by you Sunset People. Let’s go for a ride. I am in trouble and would like to ask your protection. There are so few warriors on Sunset and I am lucky indeed to find such a great one as you T.T. Red Bone.”
The man seemed suddenly exhausted and disoriented, so Three-Rivers stood on the bench and offered his hand, “I need a ride T.T. my medicine-man is not answering his cell and did not call back.”
As the man stood he switched to squirrel, “Gerald stay behind him and don’t let him go for the gun. He is afraid of you.”
“Boy, do you realize what ‘ill ‘appen if he steps on me? I could build a condo inside a his shoe en rent rooms ta half da rats on da block!”
T.T. was walking slowly with Three-Rivers toward the SUV with Gerald chattering on behind them. They all got into the SUV with Gerald sitting on the headrest behind Three-Rivers. T.T. looked down at Three-Rivers as he brought the cloud colored thunderbeast to life. “Thank you kid. I don’t know what good you did. But at least I didn’t commit the sin of suicide. That’s something. Where do you need to go?”
“The Hyatt Regency at the Inner Harbor. We are getting drunk and shooting craps down there.”
“Sure kid, I know where that’s at. You have a room? What are you some Arabian Sheik’s kid?”
“Sheik no; prophet yes; story-teller yes; medicine-man yes; criminal yes; hip-hop artist yes; mack daddy yes; escort of souls yes; has a crooked back and needs to be boned like a fish, blah, blah…Hey T.T. could you summon this thunderbeast’s Miss GPS? I was wondering if she’s ever been ‘laid’ as you say.”
T.T. eyed him critically and then smiled and summoned Miss GPS as they rolled off. Before they reached the main trail this weary hollow sounding ghost of a woman had repeated the same request to ‘turn right’ many times like some old forgotten matron nagging about the entrance flap to her house hanging just so. When they finally turned right, T.T. looked down at Three-Rivers and grinned a face-splitting grin and they both laughed as he judged Miss GPS harshly. “Naw, she must be one lonely lady!”
They high-fived as the white SUV rolled up the trail and Gerald Hicks screeched out the window at a boy riding a small rolling plank, “Dat brat should be in school but he’s goin’ back ta pick ma bones or put anotha paper clip in ma ass. Oh shoot Three-Rivers, we lef’ dat gun back dere. Hey chump! I hope you blow yo foot off fool!”
“Gerald, what is school?”
“It’s where dey shut kids away, you know, so pops can go to da bar en mamma can watch ‘er talk shows.”
“Is this school-place like a place to keep criminals called prison?”
“I guess school is prison fo kids, yeah.”
He then switched back to English, “T.T. I must not be captured by Mother. She will put me in school for certain. Can you protect me without hurting my Mother?”
“Sure kid; nobody goes to school and no ladies get hurt; got it.”
It is time to establish your ministry on Sunset.
He spoke first in squirrel and then in English, “May The Beginner hold your punishment as complete Mister Gerald Hicks, brave savior of self-killing-giants.”
“God bless you T.T. Redbone, and may Miss GPS find a husband that makes her smile.”
The squirrel was no longer angry and the giant was no longer weeping as they crawled into the stark waking town of Sunset in the white beast.
