Rudolph Wurlitzer - The Drop Edge of Yonder

Inside the longhouse, the drumming grew louder, followed by shouts and what sounded like hobnail boots kicking the walls.

Plaxico sighed and stood up. "Time to strut our stuff on the dance floor."

He pointed to a bunch of wild flowers and abalone shells piled beside the door. "Don't touch or smell or look too hard at 'em. They're to fool the spirits, the ones that ain't allowed in. Of course, that ain't us. Not yet, anyways."

He turned back at the door. "Once you're inside, you can't come out. But what else do you got to do? In my experience, it's like this when you're faced with losing who you think you are, or what you're doing, or where you think you're goin'."

Zebulon stared up at the totem pole. Just below the carved eagle, three sea monsters were joined together, their heads staring in three separate directions.

For a moment, he was sure that one of the heads was his own and the other two belonged to Hatchet Jack and Delilah.

Then the heads became sea monsters again and he found the courage to follow Plaxico.

HEY SAT AGAINST THE WALL OF THE CAVERNOUS LOWceilinged room hung with skins and strings of seal and whale teeth. Plaxico stood in the center of the room, wearing a frog mask with grinning copper teeth. Near him, on the other side of a fire pit, a large flat stone supported a display of eagle and hawk feathers, piles of hard candy, a polished human skull, and a large wooden statue of a blue heron standing on one leg with a broken wing.

Children ran around the room and up and over the outstretched legs of men and women puffing on large hand-rolled cigars, shaking rattles, and banging on box drums. Most of them wore ceremonial shirts made of cedar bark and decorated in red and cobalt blue with hand-sewn wolves, eagles, and ravens.

"This is your house," Plaxico cried, strutting around the room in ankle rattles made of clam and mussel shells.

"There is no other. I am a guest. You are the hosts and I am the host and you are the guests."

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!" he cried

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!" the room answered.

He paused, looking at each face. "There are things I've been asked to do, people I'm here to help. I came all the way from old Mex to be here and I thank you for takin' this old fool into your lodge. Some of the people I brought here might look strange, and they are, but inside this lodge we are all the same."

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!" the assembled responded, all of them excited and curious about this old spirit doctor who had come such a long way with the first Chinaman they had ever laid eyes on.

Plaxico continued to strut around the room, smacking people on their heads and chests with his hands. Lu followed behind, waving sticks of smoking sage.

"We are all here: the dead and the living and those folks who are caught in-between. We are all here, and we are all the same. Tell me if that ain't true?"

"That's true," shouted the reply.

"We are nowhere but here. Tomorrow, everything will be different. And the day after that and then the day after that. But in this place, even if we are separate, we are the same; even our enemies who want to steal our power and kill us; even the outlaw who runs for his life and doesn't know that he's headed for death. All of us are headed for death, and we are all the same. Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, black, white, yellow, and red. We are all the same!

"All sit down!" he cried.

"All sit down!" the room replied.

Plaxico smacked Hatchet Jack on his head and shoulders.

"This one in front of me is a coyote. He'll steal your woman, and sell off your children, and take your boat, and your horse, and your chickens and goats."

Plaxico spread out his arms, rolling his eyes and howling like a coyote.

Children cried and hid behind their parents, who laughed and clapped their hands but were still careful to keep their children close by.

Plaxico stopped in front of Zebulon. "Look at this one who is caught between the worlds. He suffers because he thinks there's a way to shake loose, that there's someone here with the power to free him. He believes a woman can help him, but that woman is as lost as he is."

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho! As lost as he is."

Plaxico jerked Delilah to her feet. "Look at this woman! She has come from the other side of the world only to find out that she never had to go anywhere! She, too, is caught between worlds. She has been told that one way for her to get loose is to free others from the same glue. Another way is to know that all trails are dreams and that there was never anything to try for or do; only to be."

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho! Only to be."

Plaxico lowered Delilah to the floor and nodded to Lu, who placed his palm on her stomach.

"This woman will have a son," Lu pronounced.

"A son!" Plaxico shouted.

"A son!" everyone replied.

The crowd cheered and shouted. The drums pounded so long and hard that people thought the paddles and fishing gear stuffed in the rafters would fall on top of them.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Who's the Pa?" Hatchet Jack shouted.

"The Pa?" Plaxico shouted back. "Who cares about the Pa? This boy belongs to everyone."

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho! This boy belongs to everyone."

The men pounded their fists on the floor while the women pulled their children even closer.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

A bowl of whiskey was passed around the circle. Gusts of rain swept across the sea and poured into the longhouse through large cracks in the supporting wall posts and between the roof planks. When the wind knocked over the lamps of whale oil, candles were lit and placed around the room on flat stones.

Plaxico continued his prowl around the room with bulging eyes, as if a fire were smoldering inside his head. Stopping in front of Zebulon, he grabbed the bowl of whiskey from Lu, took a swig, and sprayed it into Zebulon's face and eyes, shaking his rattles and crying out.

Then he slammed his fist into Zebulon's heart, sending him to the floor.

When Zebulon came to, Plaxico was kneeling on the floor, laughing at him.

"Before you went out, you sounded like an old whore suckin' on a stick of ice."

Zebulon grabbed him by the throat, trying to strangle him, an act which made Plaxico laugh even harder.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

Again, he slammed his fist into Zebulon's heart.

"It ain't your pump that's broke. It's your spirit. You think it's all over when it ain't even begun."

The crowd shouted and clapped their hands.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho! His spirit is broke, and it ain't even begun!"

Plaxico continued around the room, shaking his rattle and crying out.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

Zebulon floated above the floor, staring at the parade of figures dancing across the ceiling. He knew them all: outlaws and mountain men, Comanches, Arapahoes, Shoshonis, and Sioux, all wearing headdresses and war paint. There was a water spirit with pendulous breasts rising from an angry, howling sea, goats, frogs with snake-like tongues, ravens, and thunderbirds, and struggling not to be left out, Sergeant Bent, Snake Eyes, his Ma and Pa, the Warden and his wife, Stebbins, and Captain Dorfheimer.

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

"Oh…! Ha…! Ho!"

As the night wore on and visions waned and roared back, objects were exchanged. Plaxico gave Delilah a turquoise belt buckle and she gave him her gold and ruby necklace that had been given back to her by Large Marge. Indians handed out and received fishhooks, beads, rifles, shirts, bowls, and chisels. Zebulon tossed the Warden's gold pocket watch to Lu, who gave him a Tlingit knife with a carved sea otter handle. Large Marge handed an ornate French pen to Plaxico, who slipped a beaded African necklace to Hatchet Jack, who gave him his Green River bowie knife, and so on and on around the room.