Man of Justice

Chapter Thirty Seven

Previously: Jarrod put his hands over his face as more tears fell. He shocked his brothers when he whispered, "That's only half of what I've been keeping back."

The wind had started to blow just hard enough to have the leaves on the nearby trees murmur while the birds flew to their homes. Heath grabbed Jarrod's shirt and jacket, thinking it might be a good idea to get Jarrod to consent to take the conversation elsewhere, but their brother was back to sitting up straight and looking as if he was staring at a scene from the past only he could see. Exchanging glances, he and Nick silently agreed to stay where they were, unless the weather forced them to move. What else could they do? After all, if they moved too soon, Jarrod might not continue the story; having it stopped now was completely unacceptable.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jarrod began speaking. "Almost fifteen," he gave a small humph, "I might as well been fifteen the day of that attack, I had my birthday a week later. Within the month we were back in California and Our Father showed up a few months after that. He always thought that after being gone for well over a year, I fought coming home so hard simply because I was confused. Was I white or was I Shoshone? Dr. Goodman and others blamed the trauma of being taken away from my family in such a violent manner, and subsequent living conditions, for my refusal to speak English for such a long period of time." Jarrod shook his head knowing why the adults in his life at that time thought what they did, but knowing different. "They didn't know…How could they know when it took years for me to realize myself that I feared speaking English and acting white would mean forgetting…" his voice trailed off as more tears fell down his cheeks.

Nick and Heath might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. When Jarrod said forgetting with a look of one longing to go back and "make things right" he wasn't talking about the Shoshone in general. It was something more specific than that. After a few moments of listening to nothing but the wind and the movement of a few small jack rabbits rustling through the grass, Nick grew restless. He wanted to know what was upsetting his brother so much, "Forget what? What were you afraid of forgetting?"

Jarrod stood up and took a few steps forward, his mind on the past. The memories there had haunted him for years afterwards, but…until the Michael's visit…he had hoped they had disappeared. He sighed yet again and turned around. He gave each brother a sad smile and quietly answered Nick's question, though every word that came out of his mouth felt as if someone was taking the sharpest knife they could find and using it on his heart. "I was afraid I'd forget my…." He took a deep breath as another bolt of pain shot through his heart, even after all these years it still hurt. "I was afraid I'd forget Bright Stars…" he paused and then finished, "I was afraid I'd forget Bright Stars…my wife."

A gasp could be heard escaping both Nick and Heath's lips as each found themselves pressing their hands down upon the boulder by which they knelt. Jarrod had been married? That was impossible! "Your wife?" Nick stood up, "I know enough about the Indian cultures here in California to know *Shoshone men don't marry until they hit twenty, or even mid twenties! How could you be married? You were only fifteen!" Because he was so shocked by the revelation, Nick's bellow was louder than he meant it for it to be, causing Jarrod to take a step backwards.

"That's because, as a general rule, that was when a Shoshone man proved themselves in battle! When I fought in the village that day I not only earned my name, I also proved myself to them…Ibecame a man in their eyes, Nick!" Jarrod barked back the words hard, like they were bullets…the mask he'd worn over "that part of his past" trying to find its way back into its old familiar place. After all, it was the fear of reactions like Nick had just shown that caused him to wear it, the mask, in the first place. That mask would never have come off if he hadn't been caught off guard, nor would he be spilling the beans now. That didn't mean he couldn't stop talking though. And shut down he would…if it meant having Nick or anyone else treat his wife's memory with contempt or scorn.

Heath could see Jarrod was starting to shut down and knew, somehow, he had to keep his oldest brother from doing just that. "Jarrod, please," Heath's voice reached out and turned Jarrod's face away from Nick and onto him, "tell us about her and what happened to her." If his brother had had a wife, he'd never had returned home without her. He wasn't that kind of man. That, along with Jarrod's actions, told him that the young woman he'd married was no longer among the living…but her memory and pain of her loss was embedded deep into Jarrod's soul.

"Please, Jarrod," Nick hurried to apologize for his aggressive outburst. He'd never meant to make Jarrod feel like he was attacking him, and he knew he had, "tell us all about it. How you came to be married so young, about her and how you lost her. We want to know, really." Nick and Heath's sincere desire to hear him out won out.

Jarrod's shoulders slumped as he felt the guilt he'd been carrying around for years pressing itself upon him for the millionth time as the mask crumbled and fell away. Sitting down, Jarrod folded his legs once more and let the wind do what it had done many times before; caress his troubled mind before he started talking once more.

00000000

"...Shoshone men typically married in their early to mid-20s, depending on their prowess as warriors and their economic viabilities as hunters...

Shoshone women, however, typically married at a younger age, soon after menarche (about 15 or 16 as estimated by anthropologists)..." That is a partial quote from off the internet. This site doesn't allow other links to be posted or I'd have put it here.

A/N... I bolded the word "typically". Since typically implies there were exceptions, Jarrod became one of the exceptions.