| “Its been three days.” Seta said to her three brothers. “I think that we’d have heard something by now if they knew about us. Lets start using these abilities. At least to see what we can do, exactly. I know I don’t have any real idea of what I’m capable of doing. Or what the demands are going to be to use our abilities? It might be a lot more involved than we imagine.” “What do you mean?” Daniel asked. It was Saturday morning. Another sunny day that promised extreme heat by mid-afternoon. The siblings, (including their adopted brother, Daniel), were hanging out under the shade of a big maple located in the back yard of their house. They could see their parents moving back and forth past the window located in their kitchen. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that mom was cleaning up after breakfast, carrying dirty plates back to the kitchen sink. Tonka watched this and guessed the way that his dad was dancing in and out of the picture, he must have been moving out of mom’s way as she glided back and forth between the kitchen table and its sink. Basically just another summer Saturday mid-morning in the Whitefeather home. “I mean I watched a tv show where the guy was super-fast but it required him to eat enough calories to be able to do all that stuff so fast. So basically he was always eating. They didn’t elaborate on how much it was costing him to feed himself but you can bet if that turns out to be the case with one or all of us, that we will definitely have to figure out how to pay for all that food.” Seta said. “I know it sounds anti-climatic to bring up such things. Another consideration is the cost of replacing all the shirts or other clothing that Tracker will burn through. Or replacing the clothing on Tonk’s elephant-sized change. We ain’t the X-men. We have to pay for the clothes we destroy. And that’s just for starters. I bet there are a ton of unforeseen costs we would or will have to pay for, using these powers.” “Powers?” Tracker questioned. “You really think that’s the proper term for what has happened to us?” “I think its what you better hope is the case.” Seta answered. “Cause the next choice or I should say, choices, are not nearly so optimistically sounding. Those being terms for things like sickness, death. So yeah, I’m going with powers. Skills infers we earned this, we did not. Abilities is a word I flirted with but in the end we have more than abilities, much more than skill. We have power that we previously did not.” “Okay. I think you’re worrying about what label to put on us when it really doesn’t matter what you call it. For the sake of argument however, call it whatever you want. So what are we going to do with these ‘powers’?” Tracker asked. Daniel had been quiet for the most part but now there was a question which he felt he had an answer. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Apparently not. Enlighten us my pale-shaded brother”. Seta said while giving Daniel a kind pat on the shoulder. “We’re meant to be superheroes. We have to use our powers for good. Stop bank robbers. Killers. That sort.” Daniel said, looking at his siblings in surprise they didn’t get it right out of the gate. Then he said, “We need to start practicing. Sharpen our skills, abilities, powers. Whatever you want to call them. I mean, we need to figure out what is going on with us but in the meantime we might as well approach this at face value.” “Face value? Okay that’s fair. If we were to truly embrace this as being something permanent, then I agree with Daniel, we should hone our skills. Get a working idea of what we can and can’t do, before rushing into being superheroes.” Tracker laughed. “That sounds so foreign coming out of my mouth. I do know one thing for certain. If we do not hone our skills we will never be more than a lot of talk. There’s another thing we need to think about. Ability is only part of any battle. Strategy also plays a huge part.” Tonka stepped up to say, “What’s the old man always talking about?” They all answered together. “At least be smart enough to know you aren’t smart enough.” Seta said what they were all thinking. “We have strength. We need wisdom. You guys know who I am talking about.” They did. They all did. The grown-ups all labelled him as being crazy. Outsiders would claim him as lazy. The kids on the reservation however, knew better. One Antler Sleeping Bear got his first name, One Antler, by earning it rather than being given the name. His given name, such as recognized by the American government, was Cold Snow Sleeping Bear. After doing a few things which many labelled as crazy, or the more qualified translation for their language would have been ‘unbalanced’, is how he became known as ‘One Antler”. It recognized that a deer with only one side having antlers, was unbalanced, thus the name. One Antler disappeared for over ten years from the reservation, when he was a young man. It was right after he had returned from being a navy seal for six years. He left to seek out gold and never returned. That is, until ten years had passed. He returned to the reservation after being gone that ten years, looking like a white man. His hair was cut, and he wore a white man’s clothes. That was as close as he ever got to being a prominent man. At least to everyone’s knowledge that lived on the reservation. Rumors abound of which included one about how he had hit it big finding gold and then had married and two children were born of it. Sadly they all succumbed to an unknown disease that gossip said had been Covid, but before it was recognized by that name. One Antler had been out bringing in more gold when the sickness hit. By the time he returned there was nobody left waiting for him. That was when he headed back for home in Waterfell. Other rumors said that he was more than just the town drunk. There were some who claimed he was the one responsible for the town to still exist at all. That it was his money, not the government’s, that kept the utilities running, the reservation roads open, and that provided the credit which is extended to anyone in need that lives on the reservation, at the only store remaining open on the reservation. Of course there were others who said that One Antler was nothing more than somebody who had left the reservation as a young man, had some level of success only to end up losing to nature. That he came back here to be a drunk because it was all that was left to him. The local kids, what few there were, knew that One Antler was not a drunk. At least not ‘just a drunk’. Sure he tipped a bottle. He also fished, hunted, managed to feed himself on a regular basis, and the old dude never turned his back on a kid. True, One Antler’s advice was not always what others would have said was good, but at least he took the time to think things through and then offer options. That was just what the doctor ordered in their obviously unique situation. Another thing about him was that he was always available. All you had to do was go down to one of the streams he fished, or find him out hunting when season was in, and he would drop what he was doing to help out. Always a man of few words, he might not say a thing after you told him your problem. He might just motion for you to follow him and things went from there. It was a matter of trust and the kids all trusted him. The name of their town was Waterfell. At one time it had two places to eat, a library (thanks to govt grant), a fair grounds which were still in use but only once a year, the headquarters for the entire reservation, a general store, which is still open, and a used car lot which was open less than two years before becoming nothing more than a favorite spot for police to frequent. There was a terribly poor version of a roadside mall that existed for all of about fourteen months. There was a crafts store, a tobacco shop, a fireworks place and a deli. After the crafts store closed it was replaced by an equally unsuccessful computer repair shop. The town got its name because it was located on Crooked River, just downstream from the only falls on the river. They were a short drop of only about eight feet, but it was a beautiful spot that held sole responsibility for the fact that Waterfell existed. People would travel to see the falls and often needed supplies once they arrived. The general store that served the folks that came to the falls became known as Waterfell the town. Everything else built up around it. Then in the early nineteen hundreds the whole area was bought by the government so they could trade it for land where gold had been discovered. That’s how it became the reservation that it is today. The kids walked through the town in order to reach the spot they thought One Antler might be fishing. It was a good bet because it was not only a deep spot in the river but there was also a nice shade tree next to the shore which provided a great place to nap. Sure enough, One Antler was snoozing away under the shade tree. His fishing pole exhibiting the tell-tale sign of having a fish on it. The pole was bending and the line going this way then that. One Antler had the pole between his legs completely oblivious to the action going on at the other end of it. “Hey One Antler! You got a fish on.” Tonka yelled from about ten feet away. One Antler jumped awake and fumbled with catching his fishing pole before it tumbled out of his lap and into the water. He managed to get control of the situation and then looked at the group of four while he reeled in his line. When it came to a startling end there was a small noise. One Antler stepped away from the spot where he had been sleeping and said, “If there was a fish on there, he ain’t now. What brings the Whitefeather family to see me on this beautiful day?” “Can we count on your discretion?” Tonka asked, stepping closer toward One Antler. “You know I will do what I think is necessary. If it requires my telling someone, including your parents or the police, I will do so. You also know I will not involve anyone not necessary. It is your choice. Do you choose to tell me so I might help? If not I will say goodbye to the Whitefeather family and wish you all well.” The four friends looked at each other. Nobody said anything until they had all looked into each other’s eyes. Tracker took the lead. He was oldest, it was naturally his to take. “One Antler, have you heard of the bottomless pit?” “Sure. I know they just recently took a man from Washington state, out to see the bottomless pit. I have heard gossip that there was an incident which might have given birth to some powerful weapon the government has seized for its own uses. Furthermore is the tribal elders who went out to that hole with the man named Mel, are all now missing. You and I both know those men didn’t leave this area, not by choice anyway. If you have any information leading to their whereabouts, you should speak up now.” Tracker shook his head. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any idea what happened to the elders. But this does have something to do with that hole they went out to see.” One Antler kept his gaze on Tracker, but said nothing. Tracker said, “Between us. Right?” He got no reply and decided not to force the matter. Instead he just did a demonstration. Tracker mentally-willed his hands to turn to flame and then he shot the fire at a nearby shrub, causing it to burst into flame. Next Tracker used his fire to rise him up into the sky and he proceeded to fly around. It just required that he keep the fire shooting from his hands so that they were pointed down, to counteract the gravity. After a short flight he slowly allowed himself to be lowered down to the ground. Then Tracker turned off his fire power. “How far can you fly before you run out of fire power?” One Antler asked. “I don’t know.” Tracker answered. “None of us know much more than the fact that we were changed.” “There are more than just you?” One Antler asked. Seta willed herself to change and then allowed her scorpion tail to unfold out of her back. Next Daniel did the same, exposing his dragon-fly type double set of wings. Finally Tonka changed over, growing in size and now sporting that hard exoskeleton which protected all his vital areas. “Wow!” One Antler said. Then he just sat down on a nearby rock and looked at the four friends. “So what are your plans?” “We don’t have any. That’s why we came to you. For advice on what we should do.” Tracker answered. “We want to do good things.” Daniel said. “Maybe not be superheroes but something similar. We owe it to whatever it was that gave us these powers, to do good with them.” “What makes you think that?” One Antler asked. “Perhaps it was not a planned thing at all. Perhaps it was just random luck.” “I don’t care what it was; it happened, so if it was just an accident then so be it. We still owe it to good, to do good with the gifts given to us. Is that so hard for anyone to understand?” Seta asked. “Everything is so easily handled when you are young. It is a shame that the whole world doesn’t cultivate that black and white attitude. If it is broke, fix it. Simple right? Yet the older adults find ways to water-down, excuse-away, cover-up or just simply ignore things they know they should address. Whatever it takes to justify their laziness, fear of standing up to greed, cowardliness, is what they will embrace.” “Philosophy from J. Daniels, One A?” Seta said accusingly. “Let it go Sets.” Tracker said in a stronger than usual tone. At that time the group began to hear the sound of a vehicle coming down the gravel road that led into Waterfell. Then they could tell it was more than just one vehicle. There were several. From their location down by a stream which feeds into Crooked River, it was not possible to see what was making the noise. Daniel took to flight and went up to a better viewpoint. He returned with bad news. “It looks like a small convoy of military vehicles. I counted three. All are dark, unmarked SUVs. They’re headed straight for Waterfell.” Next Page |   |