The Everglades - Chapter Twenty-Six

26

The Miccosukee Reservation west of Miami encompassed three-hundred-and-thirty-three square miles. Swamplands and marshes made life difficult. It was a challenge the tribe vigorously met. Preservation of culture became difficult as decades passed. Urban sprawl brought the city, and its influences, closer to native sensibilities.

Energy resonating frequencies of decadence consistently reverberated across indigenous land. Miami’s siren song called to young tribe members. Traditional ways were conceived as ancient; outdated by those who fell prey; grasping for volatile pleasures. Vices were asserted as cosmopolitan. That which expanded young peoples’ minds opened contemporary opportunities.

Repetitive and consistent behavior of elders was conceived as boring. Adventure was sought to stimulate excitable and nubile flesh. Multicultural fun of discos was replaced by cocaine parties at bayside estates and condo penthouses. Hochstühl and Von Unterscheisse trafficked drugs through their company with the help of CIA funded production in Colombia. Young natives wanted their piece of the coke-pie; sliced by edges of obligatory credit cards. Young natives participated in the burgeoning Yuppie movement.

Reality based in long term relationships had been replaced by those seeking explosive and pleasurable experiences associated with youth.

Most adventurous native youth conceived the new economy as filled with outsized opportunity. It was a new paradigm elders and forefathers were incapable of envisioning. At the height of the drug problem, that also affected the reservation, love of money replaced spiritual pursuits. Nothing about currency that flowed, substituting life's-blood of tribal youth, was meant to last. The faster it was spent the more valuable it appeared. Tribal assets were converted into dollars and flowed freely off-reservation.

Taking of Indian possessions once again began in earnest.

Phillip Billie drove his brand new 1983 Corvette onto the reservation; exiting the Tamiami Trail. It was two tone silver, light along the top and darker gray along the bottom. Differences in paint were split along the length of the car, making the bottom appear as nothing more than a dark cloud upon which the vehicle traveled. T-tops had been removed and placed in the rear compartment.

The young warrior maneuvered the car toward the center of the village. He brought it to an abrupt and obnoxious stop. A cloud of dust that’d trailed the vehicle drifted beyond it; engulfing the vehicle and its occupants.

After the veil scattered, Billie opened the door and emerged. He trotted around to the passenger’s side; opened it politely and held out his hand; aiding his date’s exit from the car.

The woman stood next to Billie. She was long and leggy. His date wore nothing but a bikini with a sarong wrapped around her waist. Auburn hair flitted freely in the warm Everglades’ breeze.

Phillip walked proudly across the grass, and into the Cultural Center. He strode next to a woman he considered the most beautiful he’d ever known.

The center’s purpose was to educate tourists to the Miccosukee way of life. Tourism provided lucrative sources of revenue. Curiosity brought people from all walks of life, and the four corners of the globe; motivated by learning about those unlike themselves. The US Government’s original Nineteenth Century goal of keeping Indian populations separate from society remained active policy. Unspoken were the mechanisms by which power retained control over vast and varied communities spread throughout the world.

The two strode confidently into the Cultural Center; seeking out the Tribal Chairman.

Phillip’s date had been experienced by many men; sometimes during singular moments-in-time. It was a fact unknown to the young warrior. He took flirtations as genuine attraction. What the young man failed to realize was society changed from his parent’s generation. The sexual revolution led to pervasive pornography. Misconceptions flourished that women enjoyed by many men were valuable to society. Psychological and societal damage was quickly spreading throughout all communities. No longer was youth’s focus on building strong families.

The couple came to a stop in front of an exhibit of the largest alligator ever caught on the Reservation. Perfectly preserved before them was a representation of the rugged manner in which life on Earth once existed.

For Phillip’s date, the massive reptile represented a powerful force of nature that piqued ever-present desires to be consumed by something greater than herself. The young woman was completely incapable of conceiving her existence as part of the universal consciousness. Once she began exhibiting post-pubescent beauty, societal dogma defined her as all she’d ever understand about herself. Parents never instilled tools necessary to envision herself beyond pleasurable flesh. She was incapable of fending off those who sought only that which was mortal.

The auburn-haired beauty was lost; incapable of surviving the human life bestowed upon her soul.

“It’s so big; and ominous,” the young woman breathlessly remarked.

“Yeah. Largest ever caught on the reservation.”

The couple became startled by the sound of the Chairman’s voice. “Good morning, young Billie.”

The two turned and faced the shorter, old man. His skin was dark. Wrinkles were exacerbated by a life working in the harsh South Florida sun.

“Good morning, Chairman,” the young Miccosukee responded.

Phillip motioned toward the beautiful woman accompanying him. “This is Kiki.”

The old man was measured in his handshake. He extended his right hand and took hers in his. The old man slowly enclosed her grip by placing his left onto the back of her hand. He paused as he gazed into her eyes. It was a soul he wished to experience tactilely. “It’s nice to meet you, Kiki. I’m Chairman Ingraham.”

“Oh, a White name,” the young woman responded; callously and without depth.

The old man simply smiled in response. He looked toward his young warrior who stood smiling proudly. Ever the educator, the old man looked back to Kiki and remarked, “my name has a long history in our tribe.”

“Sweet,” was the depth to which Kiki thought to respond.

The Chairman purposefully attempted to measure her soul through sight and touch. The vapid young woman rendered assessment unnecessary. She was an open book with few and blank pages.

There was no need for the Chairman to further any conversation with the young woman. His responsibility was to Phillip Billie.

“If you’ll please excuse the both of us?” the Chairman asked the woman. “Phillip and I have some tribal business to discuss.”

Phillip leaned toward his date.

She tilted her head and pushed forth her left cheek; upon which the young warrior offered a cosmopolitan kiss.

The two men disappeared through a door at the rear of the museum; into tribal offices.

The Chairman’s office was adorned with many varieties of animals found throughout the Everglades. It was an office shared by every past tribal chief. Decorations never changed. Men and women occupying the office rotated on a regular basis.

“Have a seat young Billie,” the Chairman said as he motioned with his hand, before moving behind his executive desk.

The young man sat down and smiled proudly at the elder sitting across from him.

The old man drew in and then exhaled a deep breath. “Are you and Kiki serious?”

Phillip shrugged in a noncommittal fashion. “I don’t know. We’ve only known each other two weeks.”

The chairman nodded slowly and exaggeratedly. “Two weeks,” he drew out his words for effect.

“Yep.”

“What do you know about her?”

“Well, she’s not rich, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

The old man shook his head. “No. Rich people shouldn’t have any reason to be ashamed of their success; unless it comes through ill-gotten means.”

“Like stolen land?” The young warrior barked, showing the impetuous nature of youth.

The chairman only smiled in response.

“So why did you call us here today?” Phillip asked.

The Chairman extended his smile. “I only invited you here today. You felt compelled to bring your girlfriend.”

“Shouldn’t a man’s wife accompany him wherever he goes?”

“A wife? Yes. But you don’t even know this woman.” He paused. “You haven’t even the benefit of her being a member of our tribe; to have known her family for generations.”

“You’re such a racist.”

Ingraham chuckled calmly. He was too wise to be baited into an impetuous argument. Logic prevailed. “I’m only saying don’t rush things. Take time and get to know who this woman is; who her family is. The world we live in has grown ever more complicated. That means young men like you need to take time to connect to the soul of your mate; purely. Now-a-days there is a forest filled with distractions through which you must wade in order to find out who you truly are.” The old man pointed through the wall; in the direction of the museum. “More importantly, you must find out who she is…especially before you marry her.”

Phillip shook his head. “I don’t understand why you’re so interested in my love life.”

“It’s my job to make sure our tribe remains healthy. You are a member of our tribe. I will always be concerned with the development of your soul.”

“My soul?”

The old man nodded. “Yes. It’s that which resonates eternally. What you do with this life…here on Earth…will affect your soul eternally.”

Then came his first expression of belligerence. “Well, you don’t need to worry about me, old man.”

The Chairman simply nodded in response; still refusing to be drawn into an emotional battle. “Do you recall when you were twelve years old? You spent the summer helping me with the tribe’s cow-herd.”

Phillip nodded, skeptically; certain there was not single morsel of advice the old man could offer that would make sense to the cosmopolitan youth.

The Chief continued. “You became attached to a certain calf…and it died. Do you remember?”

The young man nodded.

“Do you remember the reason it died?”

Phillip shook his head.

“Because it imprinted on a dry udder. It kept going back to a tit that was incapable of providing nourishment for growth. No matter how hard that calf tried, it was doomed from the beginning.”

“And?”

“And, who do you think was at fault in that situation?”

“The calf?”

“Not at all. It was us…the ranchers…the keepers of the herd.”

“How could we have known?”

“It was our responsibility to know which bulls produced cows prone to possessing dry udders. We should have culled that bull from the herd…and we didn’t. That failure doomed the herd to a higher rate of calf mortality.”

Still not seeing the point of the story, Phillip asked, glibly, “And?”

The Chief pointed toward, and through, the wall that separated men from the buxom beauty waiting in the museum. He shook his head. “That woman out there offers nothing that will nourish your spirit. She has all the physical attributes a man could desire, but passion is only for this life. Just make sure you find a woman that can accompany you…propel you…into the realm of our ancestors.”

Phillip became receptive to the man’s advice. He sat silently ruminating, but remained filled with fleshly cravings. He was incapable of seeing beyond his next sexual encounter.

After a few moments of silence, the old man offered a historical perspective. “When the white man went to war with us, he referred to us as savages. They wrote articles in their newspapers that spoke to how we fought viciously to the death in order to protect our flesh. It wasn’t our bodies we fought for. It was the preservation of our souls.” He passed. “The settlers had a different set of beliefs.” The Chairman pointed east toward Miami. “Now you can see those beliefs in their multi-million dollar buildings, fancy cars, and world-class restaurants. I’m not saying any of that stuff is bad. What I am saying is that all that goes away when we die. All that remains are our souls. Just, please be mindful of that.”

“You’re afraid she’s had too many bucks.” Phillip challenged his elder one last time.

It wasn’t a conscious thought of the old man, but that which resonated within young Billie’s soul. He attempted to come to terms with modern society.

“Once again, our ways have been in place for a reason; for thousands of years. We’re called savages because we aren’t cosmopolitan. But if being a member of a society grouped together means that people mingle sexually, I really don’t want to be a part of that society.” He held up his right index finger. “And I’ll tell you why. We savages always felt that having too many bucks, as you put it, damaged the psychology of everyone involved.”

Satisfactorily, the old man leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together atop his head. “You see, young Billie, our ways are there for a reason.”

When Billie didn’t respond, the Chairman made one final point. “I’m not telling you what decision should be made. What I am saying is that you should want better for your family. It’s important who you choose to be the mother of your children.”

In a single encounter Chairman Ingraham instilled that which parents failed during the young man’s life. Advice that had yet to resonate with Phillip saved him a great deal of aggravation; but couldn’t save him from premature death.