34 years ago, Dry Wells…
"Oh, Oscar, you're back!"
"Dad!"
Oscar went to hug this old man. He was wearing what seemed to be tribal clothing, with an animal hide chest piece and a pair of shorts made out of bear skin. He also had the dreadlocks dressed similarly to the way Oscar wore around his head. His father, was surprisingly a lot leaner than him, with Oscar standing at least a few good inches over his head.
Oscar was soon surrounded by many of the tribe's members. They all wore similar clothing to his father. It would seem that Oscar was the only one of them who was dressed in something other than a tribal clothing of simple and almost primitive animal hide. He was also surrounded by a lot of children, from the looks of it, they seemed to be fond of the big man. And the big smile on Oscar's face was enough to show that off.
It was a small village, to the South East corner of Nevada if Solmund had to guess. There were a couple of tents around, but most notable was a large area where many of the larger members of the tribe gathered around to make weapons and armor. These included both long spears for close combat and spears for throwing. There were also a couple of big bludgeons, but swords, blades were rare amongst the weapon station. There were daggers and throwing knives sure, but nothing too out of the ordinary. This was most notable of this tribe, they were strong and they were very well armed, despite having no firearm whatsoever.
"Odysseus!" An older man approached Oscar, he was wearing a large white fur coat around his shoulders and his dreadlocks were a lot more intricate than other members around the tribe. If Sol had to guess then this would be the chieftain, or at least the tribe's shaman of some sort. He was very old, there were also tribal markings on his face, red face paint under the eyes, white stripes on the cheeks, and so on.
"Odysseus," the chief called and pulled him into a hug, "welcome back my boy, I hope your journey hasn't been too rough. It has been so long, it's so good to see you."
"Well, sir," Oscar said, "the lands were harsh like you said, so I had to travel a bit further, up north, into Wyoming."
Everybody around the tribe started to gasp, they looked at him in awe.
"My boy," the chief said, "… how… how could this be? Nobody had ever traveled that far."
"Well, I had a little help."
Then they all started to stare at Solmund with curious eyes, scanning up and down his body. It was as if they'd never seen anybody other than Oscar to be in such strange outsider's clothing. Sol waved at them in an awkward manner, with a slight smile. The chief approached him slowly, but surprisingly, his eyes were not of watchful gazes, instead, it was… warm and welcoming.
The chief patted strongly onto his back, almost made him choked, the chief laughed magnificently:
"Welcome, traveler to our humble home. Let me be the one to say that your deeds in aiding our tribe, in aiding our Odysseus were deeds of greatness, and it shall be immortalized amongst our tribe, and for that we thank you."
They… welcomed him. Now that was the first. Most tribes Solmund came across were either fanatic cults with strange taste in culture or a bunch of hostile raiders, angry and furious at anything that moved. But here, the soil it was… warm and fertile. The water was pure and fresh. The moon shone brightly, but their campfire was a fire that could not be easily extinguished. Solmund could feel it, the tribal men here, the way they moved around the village, the way they spoke, there were actual weight. It was about midnight at this point, Oscar had brought back to the village an entire barrel of meat and game which he hunted on the journey. He was carrying the barrel on his shoulders. There was enough meat to feed the tribe for at least two months. That was just borderline impressive. And in order to celebrate Oscar's return and his immense victories over the wild of the land way in the far north, they burned the camp fire, cooked the meat, cleaned the large dishes and plates, the cook smeared spices over the food, and most importantly of all, they danced. Their dreadlocks burnt a beautiful shine that gleamed in the night surrounding them. For tonight, they were the most powerful tribe in Nevada.
They were celebrating nearly all night long. The food were very delicious, it was meat of mole rats, Brahmins steaks and yet cooked to such a degree that it resembled something Sol had only seen in old cooking advertisement he sometimes saw on the sides of old buildings. They had a strange taste to it, it was out of this world.
"Hey, um, thank you," Sol said to Oscar and the chief who sat next to him, "thank you for having me here, it's been an honor."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Oscar said, "we love having guests around here, don't we?"
"Yes, indeed." The chief replied and went on eating.
"Hey, Odysseus!" One of the men from the tribe called him, it seemed that Oscar had already known what he was calling him for. He wiped his mouth from the food and stood up.
"Hey, come with me," Oscar said, "I have something to show you."
Sol followed him back, Oscar said the man was the village's blacksmith. The man was somewhat small, like a small rodent when standing next to Oscar, who stood like a tower over him.
"It's finished," the blacksmith said, he took them to the back of the village, it must be where they kept their storage, there was a bunch of junk around here, it was like a little scrap yard, "I finished it while you were gone, took a bit longer this time, but it should be pretty solid by now. Nothing a good little heat can't fix. I'm surprised that you made your trip without it."
"Well," Oscar said, "when you're out in the wasteland you can't really be picky."
"Right you are," the blacksmith took out a large footlocker and unlocked it. Inside was a long golden staff with a small eagle statue on top. Sol recognized the staff, he saw it hung on the side of some of the old parliament buildings back west. Those were government buildings. Sol couldn't believe his eyes, this was a flag pole.
Oscar picked up the pole to feel the weight in his palms. He then proceeded to swing it around in skillful vortex that Sol couldn't even begin to imagine how to do. This man, Oscar, he was more than just a simple hunter. He was a fighter. No, a warrior! Oscar then forcefully slammed the pole to the ground, Solmund could feel the quake under his boots.
"Found this while I was exploring East," Oscar said to Sol, "funny thing, I was out of bullets, I couldn't find anything around me other than this thing here. And… I don't know… I guess… it just stuck with me ever since. There's a certain charm to it, certain… nostalgic feelings to it. You know what I'm saying?"
Sol knew exactly what he meant, Old World nostalgia. This was more than a weapon, it was a spirit.
"I called it Old Glory…" He told Sol, "Kinda had a nice ring to it… don't you think?"
It was a little ridiculous, giving names to your weapon and feeling attached to it. After all, a weapon is a weapon, they didn't carry that much weight… did it?
"I know," Oscar then said, "I know that it's ridiculous, but there's just something about this baby here that just… that… I just couldn't bear be separated from. I see you feel the same way, too. With your revolver."
Oscar pointed at the holster by Sol's hip. The Ranger Sequoia.
Sol then laughed:
"Well, I suppose it does. Reminds me of my old boys back with the Desert Rangers, Baja. Can't say that we were too close with each other. But… they were the only people that I saw as… well… normal people, ya know. They don't worry about nothin', no politics mumbo jumbo, no having to worry about where to find shelter, none of that. They just… go with the flow… go with nature… they sit around drinking moonshines and singing Old songs without a worry in the world. One of the reasons why I kept the Sequoia, it's a pure force of nature, nothing impure."
Oscar laughed in his deep voice, Sol wasn't sure if that was the laugh at the absurdity or if he was laughing because the two of them felt the same. Sol hoped that it was the latter.
The two of them sat there for a while longer while the rest of the tribe was still out there dancing around the campfire. Sol didn't know what it was, but he was a lot more relaxed here, compared to the more restless times out there in the wasteland. They were suddenly approached by a large group of small children ranging from age five or six to some young teenagers. They were obviously glad to see Oscar back at their village, he was gone for an awful long time.
There were little ones running around the big man, then there was one that was shouting just out of pure joy, another one that jumped up and down up Oscar's arm just pulling him up and down. With many shouting:
"Odysseus is back! Odysseus is back!" For a whole long minute. They formed a circle, simultaneously shouting:
"Tell us a story, Odysseus! Please, tell us a story."
Oscar told Solmund that he'd been telling the children stories everyday when he got back from work. Apparently the children wouldn't even go to sleep unless Oscar tells them a story. And that was including half the teenagers and even some adults.
"Ah, ha, okay, okay," Oscar chuckled, "okay, calm down now…"
"Tell us about the one of the Wizard of Oss," one of the younger child said.
"No, that one's boring, tell us about Jack and the Beanstalk, please."
"Okay, okay, just calm down alright?" Oscar said, "It's getting late now, we don't want to make too much of a ruckus. Now story… story… um… let's see what we have here… um…"
Oscar looked around the area, more people started to come around and sat in a circle waiting for him to pick a story. Oscar looked around, trying to think of a story he hadn't told already. He suddenly laid his eyes over to Solmund and an idea popped up.
"Hey, Sol," he called, "why don't you tell us a story?"
"Me? You're serious?"
"Yeah, why not? You've been travelling far and long right? You must know some good tales?"
"Yeah, the thing is…"
But the children looked at him in these hopeful eyes. The people around the tribe were certainly curious of this man. They'd never seen a ranger in their life before. And they were now waiting for him… It would seemed that he had no choice. He just had to go with it, even if his story was terrible.
"Alright," he said, "I don't really do this, but I guess I'll give it a try."
He then looked at Oscar with a pair of eyes that said 'Imma murder ya after this'. But Oscar couldn't help but smile.
"Okay… story… story… story… well… I know one story. I read it in a book once, probably nothing that interesting but…"
But regardless, the children looked at him anxiously. There was no turning back now. He gave a deep sigh and began:
"Once upon a time… um… back in the Back When times, no, even before the Back When times, hundreds of years before that. In this very land, the land that we used to call the United States of America, but believe it or not, back then, there was a time when it wasn't united. It was a time of hardship and pain. Because back then, not everybody around was equal to one another. People were separated into class, and the worst part about it was that they were separated because of skin colors. And not only that, they were made into slaves!"
Some of the children gasped listening to the story, Sol continued:
"Yup, these were men that had origins from a land far, far away across the ocean itself. Their skins were a lot darker than the men of Old America. So with the power of an empire in their hands, the white Americans took these people in and used them as slaves. They took them in, stripped them of their clothes, put numbers and tags on them, sold them to customers and made them work on their old plantations. The old slavers were very cruel men. All this kept on going for another few decades… until one day… a very brave man stood up from the crowd. Now there's been men before him who'd tried to stop the slave trade but to no avail. But this one man, with the will and determination of the true United States of America, called for the people, called for them to bring awareness of the situation. He was at the time running for the position of presidency over the country, they called him Abraham Lincoln. Now the slave traders, they are certainly not in favor of this man, they tried to oppose him. In fact, most of the southern part of America was opposed in his policies of freeing slaves. And just overnight, the whole nation was divided into two, the North, who wanted to free the slaves, and the South who wanted to keep them."
There was suddenly a large shadow that emerged over from behind Solmund. They felt it, in the atmosphere, the overwhelming strength of darkness that scared the little children. But when Sol turned around, all he did was smile.
"Do you see this, children?" he asked, "That there is not my shadow… it is the shadow of an entire nation ready to fight and die to protect what is right. They followed a man into war, a war that they tried their best to avoid to no avail. This war, lasted long, it was hard fought. The leader of this war, a man, some called him a general, some called him a hero. We might never know because it was lost deep in history. But nevertheless, this hero, came to them, his name was Ulysses Grant."
"Hey," one of the little boys exclaimed, "that's just like Mr. Grant," they all looked over to Oscar and his father.
"Hey, quiet now," another little girl nudged the boy, "I want to hear the story."
"Hey, be nice okay?" Solmund said to the girl, "but he is not wrong," Sol looked to Oscar, "the name Ulysses was actually the Latin name of Odysseus. Odysseus the legendary Greek hero. But anyway, back to the story… Ulysses Grant, a man with the determination of a war general and a heart of a hero was able to somehow bring the divided America together, a hero where under a time of harsh warfare fought to unite two opposing tribes under one flag. Bringing them together once more so that this land would be known as the United States of America once again."
