The X-Files, Scully and Mulder still belong to Chris Carter, his brilliant brain discovered them.
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I'm having my doubts about this story and the value of it, but it won't leave me alone so I'm posting another chapter.
Chapter seven
Don't Give Up
Standoff, The Blood Reserve.
April, 21st 2008
4.47 P.M
Joe Taylor waited for them beside his car, but as soon as they were out of their car he walked to his front door. It was unlocked, opening the door he stepped inside. A little round woman came to greet him; she looked a few years younger, her eyes friendly and her long hair beautiful braided. She was wearing a colourful long sleeved dress.
The couple mumbled a few words to each other before Joe Taylor turned to Scully and Mulder.
"This is my wife Tammy. Step inside and close the door"
Mulder closed the door behind them, Tammy disappeared before they could greet her, and silently they followed the elder man into his living room. He chose a chair and pointed for them to sit at the couch.
"So what brings you here agents Mulder and Scully?"
She found it odd, that he hadn't asked that question or showed any sign of curiosity before. "We are here to ask you about your trip to England last week. Why were you there?"
Calmly he answered, "I was invited to run some sweats. It was my third visit."
"Who invited you, Mr. Taylor?" It was impossible for her to catch his eyes and judge his honesty from the look in them.
"Dave and Gilly Smith, they have visited us a lot here and thought people in England would benefit from the sweats." He answered.
"Sweats, do you mean a sweat lodge, Mr. Taylor?" Mulder broke in.
"Just call me Joe" Joe had obviously no problem with making eye contact with Mulder, "yes, I mean a sweat lodge!"
"What exactly is a sweat lodge, Mr. Taylor? A sort of religious ritual?" Mulder inquired.
"The first people doesn't have a religion, we call it spirituality. We do have faith, like your wife, but we follow no church. Our traditions are as old as the people. The sweat is a ceremony where we pray, cleanse ourselves and ask for healing. We've all consist of four parts and all four parts need to be in balance to make a person whole. Today, a lot of people are out of balance and need guidance; white people seek answers and find them in the old ways, especially people from Europe. They've forgotten their old ways and find their way in learning about the First people. They come to see their old traditions bear similarities to the First People's."
Scully studied the Native man; he had a power around him that didn't come from overpowering people, but from faith in his believes. She had only found the same calm in a few elderly Priests but they hadn't had the power behind the calm. "What happens in a Blackfeet sweat lodge?"
"Blackfoot! Here in Canada we are Blackfoot Indians. The sweat lodge was given to False Morningstar by the sun, among other gifts, it's a very strong ceremony in which, the grandfathers help us to find our ways and take responsibility."
Not any wiser she sighed; it appeared to be difficult to get a straight answer from Joe Taylor. And it was puzzling why he refused to meet her eyes, frustrated she breathed heavily.
"Why would five Catholic boys go to a sweat lodge, Mr. Taylor? They made arrangements to go to yours as well, didn't they?"
"Yes, they did. They had already been to one a week before, one Jim Casey ran."
Leaning forward Mulder said, "You know they're dead, don't you?"
"Yes, I heard when they didn't come." Still, Joe Taylor was calm.
"Why would they need another sweat lodge?"
Not answering right away, Joe Taylor looked at a point above their heads; he was lost in his own world. Glazing at each other, Scully and Mulder both sensed that he was holding something back from them. Scully was drawn to his calmness, it reminded her of the time she had visited the Temple of Buddha. It was the same clearness in the calm centre in herself she recognized in Joe Taylor. A clearness and calm she rarely found. Breathing deeply, she clear her mind of all thoughts and felt her body, I was sore and tired but healthy. Her heart felt lighter than it had in years, it was full of love. Love for her family. Family! It sounded so nice, and hope of a future given back to her. She was grateful.
Joe Taylor's voice brought her back to the room she was in, "sometimes you pick up something which is not good for you. It had happened to the young men in England."
"Something bad enough to kill them?" Scully inquired. The answer was delayed by Tammy Taylor coming into the room; she carried a large tray with cans of Canadian Dry and plates of food. Smiling into Scully eyes, Tammy Taylor handed her a plate. There were strength and kindness in the woman's eyes, she served the dinner but not with a servant's attitude. She did it because she wanted to.
The food was not familiar to Scully, she really wouldn't tell what it was; it looked like thick fried bread with salad, meat and cheese on it. Looking at Mulder she hesitated, unaccustomed to being offered anything but coffee and not knowing the food, she was inclined to forego the food, but a stern look from Joe Taylor told her it would be most impolite.
"It's Indian Tacos." Joe Taylor explained. When he saw her taking her first small bite, he spoke again, "do you know the story of my people, how we came to loose our future and our children?"
Quietly Tammy Taylor left the room again.
"No, no we do not know much about your tribe and its history, Mr. Taylor." Scully said between two bites, yet, she hadn't decided weather she liked the tacos or not.
"The white Government wanted to break the First People's spirit, it forbid us to speak our language, hold our ceremonies and live like we always had. The white men wanted us to become white. They forced us to live on small reservations. First, we refused and continued to speak our language and hold our ceremonies, when we stayed savage in their eyes; they took our children and sent them to Catholics boarding-schools. The children were beaten if they spoke their native tongues or spoke of their ways. The children were taken at such a young age, and not returned to their homes before they were about sixteen, that they forgot their roots. They forgot their language and started to believe in the Catholic religion.
The only thing they couldn't change was the colour of our skin.
When they came home, they couldn't speak with their parents or grandparents and they feared the old ways. The Catholic boarding- schools had taught them, they would go to hell, if they didn't forsake their people's savageness and heathen believes. It was confusing for them, for all. The white people considered them savage and underprivileged, and their own families were strangers to them. They were left with big holes in their hearts and they began to drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes. They took all the bad habits from the white man and lost themselves in the search for their identities. It continued for many years, I was sent to a boarding- school. Luckily, some of our elders kept our ceremonies alive in secret, thanks to them a lot have survived but much was lost. Thanks to those Blackfoot men and women, who have worked hard and sacrificed a lot, we are gaining back what was lost, but some may be lost forever. And the holes in our people's hearts haven't healed, yet. "
"You've learned of the old ways Mr. Taylor?" It was Mulder asking the question.
"My grandparents wouldn't obey the white man, they stayed with the old ways. My granddad was stubborn and patient enough to take me in and teach me, and in the sweat lodge, I learned to take what was best from both my ancestors and the Catholic Church. Slowly, I returned to my roots and ancestors, peace filled the hole in my heart, and I began to work with my granddad in teaching our people about our traditions."
"Are you saying that some people in the Blackfoot society wants revenge of the Catholic Church?" The story was new to Scully, she had never known that Indian children
were taken from their parents and shipped off to Catholic schools. The mere thought horrified her; she knew the pain of loosing children at first hand. It was not something, she whished for others to ever go through.
Feeling Joe Taylor's eyes on her she managed to briefly meet his eyes, "you know the anger it leaves in your heart when loosing a child. Your pain hasn't healed yet, you carry it on to other fights in you life." There was no judging in his voice.
His understanding and compassion flowed through her, allowing her to acknowledge the anger underneath the sorrow and hurt, the realisation enabled her to see herself clearly. Before she understood everything fully, he withdrew his eyes.
"The anger in our parent's hearts hasn't healed yet, and it's passed on to the children. Before our hearts are healed, our story will repeat itself over and over again; today the Catholic Church is replaced by alcohol and drugs. But the Church is still strong on the reserve."
"Is Jim Casey angry at the Catholic Church Mr. Taylor" Mulder had finished his plate of Indian Tacos.
"Jim Casey's twin brother died at their Catholic boarding- school, officially of measles, unofficially of server beating after he was caught speaking Blackfoot with Jim. They were eight years old. Jim had to stay there until he was sixteen."
"Where can we find Jim Casey?"
Instead of answering her questing Joe Taylor said. "Agent Scully, I would like to invite you and your husband to a sweat lodge tomorrow at ten o'clock. Then we can talk further."
"We are not married!" Scully stated urgently.
Laughing he replied, "marriage has nothing to do with a piece of paper. I'll see you tomorrow then. Please wear a long skirt and long sleeves."
Completely stunned, she kept silent and glazing at Mulder, she met his amused eyes. He never corrected people when they called her his wife, but she always felt the need to correct the mistake, when it was the other way round.
"Do you know a motel, Mr. Taylor? Mulder changed his focus.
"You will have to drive to Lethbridge. It's not a long drive."
"Thank you for dinner and the invitation, we'll be here tomorrow." He got up; following his example Scully extended her hand to Joe Taylor's.