The Savage

Fourteen

I did not look back, running as hard from Frank as I could. Bursting into the house, I startled my mother who was standing over the stove, cooking. Gasping, stirring spoon in hand, she stared at me, the other hand over her heart.

"Jaynie Colter! You nearly frightened me to death!"

"I'm sorry Mamma," closing the door, I tried hard not to throw my school things into the corner. Fury was still writhing in my veins like a snake. "Is Rose sleeping?"

"Yes, she was fussy today." Mamma studied me before turning back to her pots. "I think she was missing you. Did you have a good day?"

Studying her back, I thought perhaps she did not know about Sammy Hayes, and the supposed Indian attack. If she had, I would be hearing about it.

"Yes, well enough. I learned about animals, and the way the land is shaped. Can I go see her?"

"Do you have homework?"

"Spelling lessons."

"Well, you can do that tonight I suppose. Wash up first, and don't wake Rose up, okay?"

I was sitting next to her cradle when I heard Frank come into the house, and his deep inquiry as to where I was. After a moment the bedroom door creaked open and our eyes clashed. Lightning flashed in the storm cloud gray of his irises.

"What's the idea of you runnin' off like that? I wasn't done talking to you." It was growled low, so as not to wake the baby.

"I was done listening." I shot back, just as quietly. He came in, settling on the edge of the bed. Our furious gaze held.

"When I have somethin' to say to you, you'll listen to the whole of it, Butterfly."

"So a savage is not allowed to-"

"Stop it!" He hissed the warning at me, the skin around his mouth tight. "You are not a savage! You know better!"

"But Wind Runner does not?" Curling my lip I glared at Frank. He glared back, our battle of wills hushed while Rose slept on. "You cannot hide the truth, Frank! You think he attacked Sammy, you blame him without proof, just like everyone else!"

Suddenly, to my surprise Frank dropped his gaze, blowing a long breath from his nose. Leaning forward, he pulled long fingers through his inky black hair.

"Yeah...yeah maybe I did." His admission shocked me into silence. "I try to be fair, open minded, but you called it little one. When danger struck close to home, I reckon I jumped the gun. But you're wrong about why."

Sliding off the bed, he settled to the floor at eye level with me.

"I'm not agreeing with the opinion that every Indian is bad, they're just like all other folks, some good, some not. What bothers me, what maybe I didn't explain so well, is that every time there's trouble with an Indian, every time someone has reason to hate, fear, or blame one...it's going to come down on you. You, Butterfly, you're goin' to feel the weight of it every time, regardless of right or wrong. Folks need someone to blame, someone to take their fear and anger out on. This boy, Wind Runner, if he's involved, even if he's not, the blame is going to come back to you, and it won't be a good thing."

"That's not fair!"

"No, it's not, but that's why I want to protect you Butterfly, you're my daughter. I never had a family before, and maybe I ain't figured out how to be a good father yet...but I'm trying. Can you understand what I mean?"

"Yes." I couldn't manage above a whisper, for emotion was making my throat tight. "I am not accustomed to having a father, and I have yet to understand how to be a good daughter."