3 Wild Child

The ears of a red and white paint pony perked up as the yelling inside the tipi got louder. A girl, barely sixteen, held her head against his neck and occasionally furrowed her brow, trying in vain to hear what they were saying.

A Lakota youth just above her age was standing next to the entrance, his leg bouncing anxiously as he had a better vantage point to hear the argument. Every so often he would inhale deeply as if to argue a point, but his arms gave up in a conflicted sigh. He was unsure of what to do. He glanced over his shoulder at the girl. Her eyes met his, but she was far calmer, far more certain in what the decision would be. They both knew the reality; feelings be damned.

Bursting from the entrance, an older Lakota man stomped his way towards the young man. He grabbed him firmly by the wrist and started dragging him away. He was increasingly furious with every step. A much older woman crawled outside an equally angry expression on her face. The girl watched them, brows furrowed. The woman simply glanced over at her and her face became even more upset. Just as the woman was about to say something, the man turned on his heels with a violently outstretched arm.

"You keep that girl away from my son! She's trouble, been nothing BUT trouble since she arrived. My son is meant for greatness and I won't have his path tainted by white demons…" The older man shouted, pointing at the girl. Another Lakota man launched himself out of the tipi, tripping over his feet, his anger barely contained.

"Do not speak about my child like that!" He screamed, the old woman placing a hand on his chest to stop him from getting physical.

"She is not your child!" The old man yelled, his body hunched over to increase his volume. "She is just some white stray you found wandering in the wilds and she has never belonged here!"

The old woman's face turned to his, her eyes blank, face bearing no emotion or hesitation, causing everyone around her to take a measured step back.

"You will never tell us who we do and do not consider family. For you to speak badly of a child who has never wronged you is disgraceful," she said, waving a decisive hand in front of her body in dismissal. "Begone from my home."

The old man squeezed his son's wrist tighter and shoved him to the front, preventing him from reacting beyond a defiant shrug.

"Father! Why are you doing this?!" the youth tried to wrestle away from the old man but was met with another shove.

"MOVE!" the old man screamed, his son shrinking under his father's temper. A look of disgust crossed his face before finally turning and stomping away, shoulders shaking under his own frustration.

"It ain't safe for her to stay here, and that's the last time I'm gonna to say it, Long Lance!" A white man in about his thirties crawled out of the tipi and, looking up, met the girl's face. She could do nothing but stare at him with a glint of indignance. This was her life they were arguing about; her future. How come she couldn't be a more active participant?

She turned her head, angrily biting her lip so as not to scream.

"Family is more than blood, Jim! After all this time with us, I thought you'd understand that." Long Lance replied when Jim grabbed him by the arm to spin him around. "I know you say you're doing what is best for her but I think you're just doing what is easy for you and it's confusing! Why are you doing this now?!"

"LOOK AT HER!" Jim yelled, pointing over at the girl. A silence fell on everyone standing in front of her. They all stared while Jim continued his speech. "She ain't a little girl no more. She's a woman now and you gotta think about any number of reason why this is bad! For everyone!"

Long Lance glared, still somewhat refusing to see her as the woman she was becoming. He furiously shook his head.

"We'll take care of it! Let these things come; we will face them together, as a family, as we have always done! And this is OUR child you're talking about. We didn't raise her to allow herself to be used as a weapon against us. You really think she'll allow herself to be traded? You really think she'd stand idly by while men attack the village just because she's here?"

"That's enough!" Jim yelled, his voice escalating. "It is MY decision and I have spoken. She's going with my brother back east and that's final!"

Jim turned and stormed away, leaving Long Lance and the girl watching him with anguish. With every ounce of fortitude that remained, he walked slowly to the girl, her eyes hot with tears.

"I'm sorry," He took hold of her face and wiped the tears around her eyes. She let her head stay in his hands for a moment before grabbing him around the waist and stuffing her face into his chest.

"Father...is this…?" she feared the answer. She would have gladly sacrificed the love she had for her childhood friend if it meant she could stay with the man in her arms.

It all happened too fast and she could do nothing but blame herself.

This beautiful and gentle human; he has never cared that they weren't blood. He never even thought about it despite the whispers in their shadows for as long as she's been with them. He was the one who saw into her soul, saw through her pain and brought her back into the light.

He was the one who taught her to turn pain into strength.

But she feared this may be the truest test of that lesson. She wouldn't have Long Lance to run back to if she failed to embrace the coming storm.

She would be alone.

And the old woman. Her grandmother. She only put her arms around her and buried her face in her shoulder, hoping to anything that was listening that she wouldn't have to leave.

But the answer she was hoping for did not come.

Days later and the girl gave one last look at the village where she spent a great many days. It wasn't until that moment when the reality of her stay began to sink in. The old man was right. She didn't truly belong there with the Lakota.

She didn't belong among white people either.

But it was a path she had to walk. She swore that she would give it an honest effort to both Long Lance and Jim even with face twisted like she swallowed a mouth full of vinegar.

Long Lance stood forward of several people who knew and cared for her anyway, despite the trouble they had all faced at the hands of the white man. They waved their goodbyes as she, Jim's brother and nephews walked with purpose out of view. She stared over her shoulder until her family was no longer visible. Only then did she turn her face in the direction of where her new and strange life lay.

The Wild Child was gone.