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| Native Tears by � goeswith3faces He did not know much about his own roots, without the fact that he was adopted with 2 years and even that he found out only because of a coincidence when Grandma lost her nerves, like she usually did. They lived near Toronto and Mum and Dad had not that much time for him because of their work. That was why he had to spend many time by his Grandma, a widowed old woman in her early seventies. She never was to him a Grandma like children want to have one. She never told him stories or gave him the feeling to be welcomed. Grandma was in his eyes a person made out of a block of ice. At Grandma�s home, there was only one rule to obey:� Behave like you are not here, don�t touch something, and try to be invisible.� He never liked to be at Grandma�s home. He knows that sometimes she drank from a bottle that she ensconced behind her books and whenever she drank, enough he had to go outside to play. She did not care if it rained, snowed or whatever. She needed her silence because of her �migraine�, but he never found out if her migraine started before or after drinking. One time, he pulled down a vase, that had been a gift from her dead husband, when he plaid at Grandma�s home. She was drunk and she became angry like hell about it and shouted at him if she really could not expect more circumspection from an �Indian bastard� like him. He was thunderstruck. He never thought about it, but in this moment, he realized that all his family had blond hairs and white skins and he was the only one who was red skinned with black hairs. It took months until his Ma seemed to be prepared to tell him that they adopted him from somewhere in America because she was not able to get babies. They did not know anything about his ancestors. The only thing they know was that his real Mum could not care for him because she was sick or something like this. His real Dad was unknown. He was the youngest in the mischievous band of six children who played like nearly all the time �Cowboy and Indian� on the streets. They were the only ones who liked to play with him but only when he played the role that they hold ready for him all the time. Because of the fact that everybody could see that he has Native American ancestors, his job in the game was to fight the �good Cowboys� . At the end, like all the time, he was the Indian who was shooting down by the �good Cowboys� and he gave all his heart to die proud and brave like a real Indian. When the game was finished, the �good Cowboys� celebrated their victory at home with hot chocolate and biscuits. He was left alone on the street, because they were allowed to have pets but not a real Indian at home. He did not want to go back to Grandma and big crocodile tears ran over his cheeks when he looked after the children those were running back home. How much he wished to survive only one time, as that what he was: An American Native � With Love and Greatest Respect to all lives on Mother Earth ~ Goes-with-three-faces ~ |
