The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 47 - Miccosukee Indian Village

The next morning dawned bright, blue, and breezy. I had a moment to appreciate Floridian winters as I stood on the porch waiting for Brittany to pick me up. I wondered if Howard would be in a better mood, wondered what had him so unnerved. He tended to be serious, but not grumpy. It wasn't like him to snap at anyone.

Brittany arrived, and we drove to Howard's house with the windows down, the breeze blowing, and Lamb of God turned way up.

I couldn't have been happier. Not because we were going to the Indian Village. I didn't expect the Story Keeper to give us any information we couldn't find on the Internet. I was just glad to be alive and to spend the day with my girl. If the opportunity arose, would I have the nerve to kiss her again? I leaned my head back and grinned.

Howard came out of his house as we drove up. We piled into his rust-colored pickup. He said nothing in greeting, just turned on News Radio. But his silence didn't make me uncomfortable. The wind was cool and filled with scents, and Brittany leaned her head on my shoulder as we rode.

An hour later, we pulled into the lot of the Miccosukee Indian Village. We parked beside five other cars next to a bright yellow gift shop. A sign stated the museum hours, although I didn't notice a museum. All I saw was tall, yellow grass and a ramp.

I helped Brittany down from the truck. She smiled, snagging my hand, and we walked together up the ramp to an elevated wood-planked walkway. Our footsteps scuffed the weathered wood. I liked the sound. Ahead, I saw platforms and huts.

The village had no walls. The buildings consisted of thick posts and thatched roofs. Inside, workers were setting up displays. Women sat on the floors weaving baskets or making necklaces out of beads.

A man approached. Most of his head was shaved, and he wore bits of fur and feathers in his topknot. "Howdy, Howard. What brings you to these parts?"

"Looking for Chelsea."

"She's here," he said. "Might try out by the cooking chickee."

Howard nodded. "Shonabish."

I took that to mean thank you. We continued clomping down the wooden bridges. Sawgrass rasped in the breeze. Black water shone in patches. The wetlands were deep enough to support airboats. A sign pointed toward the docks—Airboat Tours $10.

I caught a tantalizing whiff of sweet grease. "They have food here?"

"The Snack Shop. Must be getting ready for the day," Howard said. "Fry breads. Frog legs. Smells good, doesn't it?"

"I'll say."

Brittany giggled. "You're always hungry."

"Chehuntamo, friends," said a man as he passed us on the boardwalk. He wore a snake draped over his shoulders. "Be sure to see the alligator pit. First show is in two hours."

I watched him walk away.

Then a deeper voice spoke behind us. "Nokosi. I did not recognize you without your bear claws."

Howard looked like he wanted to spit. "Have you seen Chelsea?"

The taller man smirked. "Yes."

Heat seemed to radiate off Howard. With apparent effort, he turned and walked away. I could tell the man was a rival of some kind, so I gave him a final sneer before following.

"Did you used to work here?" I asked Howard.

"No." He frowned like I'd startled him from his thoughts. "Why?"

"He said something about wearing bear claws."

"The last time I was here, there was an incident," Howard said. "I was provoked."