Dan the Packer Man

Big Dan rests thoughtfully in silent scrutiny, a cigarette dangling from pursed lips, with a mind to the packing of the mules and the proper balance of trinkets and toys of little boy campers and fishermen who have pressed their gear upon him once again. His mind is not upon them for the moment, but

“Helpin’ Out Daddy,” a short, short story

Red sun blisterin’ hot, dryin’ out morning dew.  No money till pickin’ time.  Plastic sheets coverin’ sulfury-smellin’ dirt, screechin’ underfoot.  Findin’ her place, bucket in hand.  Endless rows of plump fruit fixin’ to swamp her. Mr. C. livin’ in her head, pushin’.  “Hey, girl, you late.  No profit in dallyin’.  Finish yer row, have somethin’

Looking Back – “A Tryst with the Buffalo People”

I remember as a boy, when we could smell the Buffalo People coming.  Their scent was carried on the south wind, and there was no mistaking it.  They came into our country in the Moon of the Falling Leaves, and my friend, Crow Boy, was always the first to know.  He would run through the

Little Flower’s Love Song

You’ll come with me to the mountain Where wind is gentle and sweet We’ll scent the Aravaipa Where river and flowers meet

Every Forever Day, a short short story

Green green fields washin’ over him’  Green leaves, green stems smotherin’ the red fruit. Spittin’ blood, wipin’ sweat, cadgin’ the life outa him. “Go boy, you two boxes behind,” say Red. Hands crampin’, fingers blisterin’, nails splittin’, sun pourin’ down.  Gotta fill them boxes, gotta rid that debt. “You full up, boy; heft that box,

A Caged Bird – a Short Short Story

A bitch on a board.  Rise, drop, hot wheels singin’, the wind in her hair.  Ready for Scarecrow man – break on your board, slide under the skinny arm.  Calls her Sugar, wants her sugar, just like Uncle Boris.  Not about to get it.  Pump, pump, glide down Center Street.  Trash day on Maple.  Keds

Life On a Chessboard, Chapter 5

Chapter 5 I open the Red Badge of Courage and take a look through the first chapter.  I don’t get it.  Even when I study the words real hard, some of them don’t make sense.  There is a big list at the bottom of every page that tries to explain the meaning of the stupid

Lozen, Woman Warrior, an Introduction to a Native American story

Only a few hundred paces from Black Wolf’s camp, Lozen returns from her morning prayers.  The woman warrior pauses, taking in the movement in the trees.  She sniffs at the cool air.  There is an unnatural silence in the woods – the mourning doves are not cooing, the squirrels are not chirping. And where are

Throwback, an introduction to a Native American Story

Mangus prepared for his escape.  He slipped the Bowie knife into the sheath at his side, then filled his backpack with the pemmican Mother had just finished making.  He lifted the pack and threaded his arms through the straps.  After slinging the water skin over the pack, he bent and scratched out a note: Mother,

Begin Again, a movie review

If you’re looking for a solid summer love story with music that penetrates your heart, try Begin Again, from writer/director Jim Carney. One night while drinking at a bar, Dan Mulligan (Mark Ruffalo), a struggling record producer, encounters Greta ( Keira Knightly), a fiercely independent songwriter.  Though Greta’s guitar-playing and vocals evoke yawns from the