A/N: This is one of the first journal entries I'd written for Bobby when I joined the RPG. It was also a pretty popular entry.
I'm sitting in the dark. Not sure why. I guess the sun set and I just have yet to turn on a light. There's something peaceful about it, though. I feel like my eyes are about to fall out of my skull because I've spent the whole day catching up on things from while I was gone. You'd be amazed at all the stuff you miss when you're taking time off.
I took a break for a few hours this afternoon to take a walk and find some lunch. It was interesting, to say the least. It reminded me of one of Benson's narratives.
I walked into a
little hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. Because it's late
afternoon, there's only one other customer besides me. A little old
man, probably in his 80's, occupies the table in the corner by the
door. He has long hair that was probably jet-black when he was in his
prime. He doesn't look at me when I come in, instead he's absorbed in
what's on his plate. I get seated diagonally across the room from
him. I'm intrigued by him. He has beads in his stringy, white hair
and his skin is like leather. I ordered some pork pibil and gave the
waiter the menu back. He retreated into the kitchen and then it was
just the old man and me. His back was hunched and he seemed like he'd
seen everything in his lifetime.
Without lifting his
head, he said, "I knew you were coming, nahkohe." At first,
I wasn't sure he was talking to me, but since I was the only one else
there, it had to have been me.
"Nahkohe'...that's...Cheyenne?"
I asked. My knowledge of Native American languages was next to
nothing.
He nodded slowly.
"It means 'bear'." His voice sounded as if he'd spent his
entire life standing over a mesquite fire. It was smooth and low; a
ragged sound from deep inside him somewhere.
I tilted my head,
curious about his first statement. "How did you know I was
coming?"
He looked up at me with dark eyes.
"There are many things I know." He was silent, studying me
much as I had been him. Then, he looked back down at his plate, and
without looking up, started speaking again. "Do you know how
Bear lost his tail?"
"No, I'm not
familiar with the story," I said.
"Long ago,
bears had tails. Bear was very proud of it. He would wave it around
for all to see. One day, Bear came upon Fox surrounded by great piles
of fish. Bear was going to ask Fox what she was doing just as Fox
pulled her tail from a hole in the ice. A big trout came up with her
tail. Bear asked Fox what she was doing and Fox said, "I am
fishing. Would you like to try?" Bear said he would. Fox told
Bear that he needed to make a new hole in the ice. Fox told Bear to
put his tail in the water and wait until Fox told him to take it out.
Fox said she would hide so she wouldn't scare the fish away. Fox
watched for a little while and then snuck back to her own home to
sleep. Fox woke up the next morning and wondered if Bear was still
down at the lake. She went to check. It had snowed during the night
and there was a bump on the lake where Bear had fallen asleep. Bear
was snoring and making the ice shake. Fox rolled around on the ground
laughing at the sight. When she was done laughing, she very quietly
crept up to Bear's ear and shouted. Bear woke with a jump and pulled
his long tail as hard as he could but his tail was frozen in the
water and it broke off. Bear turned around to see the fish but saw
his tail in the ice. Bear moaned and said "Fox, I will get you
for this." He finished his story and looked over at me. I tried
to read his eyes, tried to understand him.
"I haven't-"
I started to say, but he cut me off.
"You need to
be careful of Fox. She is a trickster with many faces. Watch your
back, nahkohe, for your partner cannot always do it."
I don't exactly
scream cop. I've always thought I looked more like a linebacker in
Armani. "How did you know I'm a cop?" I asked him.
"Bears are
hunters," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "Your
partner is Wolf."
I smiled.
The old man nodded
slowly. "Dogs are descendants of Wolf and dogs are man's best
friend."
"Wh-" he
cut me off again.
"You know who
Fox is."
The waiter appeared at my left. I looked up at him and he looked back; 'You're crazy' clearly written on his face. I looked back over to where the old man had been sitting and to my surprise, he wasn't there. I know I wasn't hallucinating. He's right. I do know who the fox is. The fox is usually cunning, intelligent, and wild. And a trickster. I don't know much about Native American symbolism and animals, so when I got home, I looked it up. I wanted to know why Eames is the wolf. Wolves are generally thought of as being a whole list of things: cautious (of strangers) but curious, elusive by nature, attuned to environment, family orientated, devoted, loyal, fearless, develop strong emotional ties, cooperative, playful, social, intelligent, expressive communicators, and loving. As well as being in relation to man's best friend. It fits her perfectly. I looked up the bear, too. Bears represent gentle strength, introspection, and dreaming. Hm.
This is certainly one day I'll never forget.
