Squaw

She was an outcast

Everyone in the ninth grade knew there was something weird about the girl they called Squaw. She may have really been Indian or part Indian, but that's what we called her because of those moccasins and long, braided hair she always wore. She kept apple cores in her locker, too; all lined up across the top shelf like little shrunken heads or something. When she spoke--and that was only when a teacher asked her a question, her voice was deep and shaky, sort of like a frog. When Robbie Landrum got smashed against her in the crowded hall one time, he started screaming, "Cooties! I got Squaw cooties all over me!" Boy, I'll tell you--we stayed away from her.

School was still in session that day in late May when my buddies and I went to the swimming hole. The water was still kinda cold and we sure weren't planning on going for a swim, but after the rope swing broke with us all on it at once, we didn't have much choice. We scrambled out of the water quicker than a bunch of drowning cats, then stood around shivering and laughing our butts off.  Larry Abbot said we'd be warmer if we went back in, so that's what we did. We didn't see anyone around, so we just stripped down to our drawers and jumped back in the water. Sure enough, he was right, and we swam around for a good while, just like we would've on any hot July day.

Then something happened that wasn't too smart, but I won't lie about it because it was my bright idea. There was one spot, about fifteen feet from the bank, where no one had ever found the bottom. Everyone had tried to find the bottom there, but no one could ever get down far enough without running out of air--it was just too deep. I saw the rope from the swing and thought, "We can tie that to a big rock, then swim it out over the deep hole, then drop it. We'll keep hold of the rope, and then use it to pull ourselves down to the bottom." Like I said, it was my bright idea.

"Brilliant!" the others told me, and I nearly broke my arm trying to pat myself on the back. Here's what happened next--we tied the rope to about a ten pound rock, then with all five of us holding the rock with one hand and using the other to swim with, we got it out over the deep spot and then dropped it. Down that rock went, with the rope flying through my hands really fast. (Yes, my hands, because everyone else had let go of it!) The rope came to an end, so I just held on tight. It was almost on the bottom--right? Well, it wasn't, and it pulled me down. The water became colder as it rushed past my ears. I looked back toward the surface and could barely see any light. I decided I had to let go, but the danged rope got tangled around my arm somehow. Everything sorta went black after that.

I might have drowned that day, but didn't. You'd think one of my best pals would've done the brave thing and gone down after me, but none of them were man enough. When I came to, Squaw had me on the bank, pumping the water out. They said she'd been sitting up in the rope swing tree, and just jumped down into the water like a danged frog after a bug. After she pulled me out, they said she bent my arms all around different ways, pounded on my chest, and even put her mouth over mine and blew on me like a balloon. To make everything ten times worse, my drawers were gone.

Well, that was a week ago. It made the headlines of our little hometown newspaper--Fifteen year-old girl saves local boy from drowning.  That's what it said, and now everybody knows what she did, but it didn't say anything about my missing underwear, thank Jesus. Her name is Therese Evans, and I'm not going to call her Squaw anymore. In fact, if anybody at school calls her that--even my best pals--I'm gonna punch 'em in the nose.

When Grandma heard about it, she told me that her grandfather said an Indian maid once drowned in that hole of water, trying to save a little boy. Yes, it's all pretty weird, and it might scare some people, but I'm not going to let a little weird stuff scare me away from taking her this bag of apples. Therese; that's a nice name.

 

Author's Note

I went to school with a girl they called "Squaw", and based this character on her. How sad it is now to think how she was treated. Kids can be pretty cruel.

Reviews

[john l smith]

just came across this and I have to agree, kids can be awfully cruel.
Brings me back to a black girl that enrolled in our grade 6 class.
She was a couple of years older and very well developed.
Us guys used to be overly obvious about taking in the full view of her mammaries whenever she walked by.
She must have been very uncomfortable
Dumb young asses

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. I'd have looked, too, though I think I would have tried be stealthy about it. Young folks might be forgiven for their ignorance about racism, but older ones have no excuse.

[Relic]

I always love your stories because they depict likable characters and settings. We too had the tire on a rope only it was over grass. (thankfully).

Kids CAN be cruel when they're young. There are no barriers or filters on their view of people and situations.

Sometimes kids burn their bridges and suffer for it later. (with regret). I guess it happens all over.

Your story shows that even someone with the cooties can emerge as a hero if she's given the chance to prove herself.

Great writing Sam.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. We all have it in us to be unkind in certain situations. Hopefully, we learn and improve.

[barleygirl]

This story is well-told, as always, with a keen sense of how to depict the thoughtlessness of young kids, without sounding critical. Just distinct observations. I love the memories: "Cooties!" . . . & the rope swing with everyone on it . . . tying the broken rope to a rock, etc. . . . so reminiscent of the bright ideas kids come up with, which could be harmful or even fatal. Everything fell into place thru-out the story & at the end, I could still feel a bit of hesitancy in the way the narrator decided to show Therese some respect. It wasn't exactly coming across as wholehearted, but true to the situation. It's hard to buck the crowd!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. I was dumb about many things when young, and racism/prejudice was one of them.

[barleygirl]

Altho my high school was almost 50% Mexican-American, I knew nary a black or jewish person until well into my 20's. I thought I was racially enlightened becuz many of my friends were Hispanic. But then I found out there are more than 2 ethnic groups! *smile*

[Robert Parlange]

I like the way you narrated this. It sounded like a young boy describing the story as he remembered it. Very well done. The story is almost universal. There was a girl in my Elementary school who had red hair. She was teased mercilessly for it. She later turned into a real beauty in High School. Life takes strange turns.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Robert. I guess there's always a tendency for some to make fun of those who're a bit different.

[Viv Wade]

Great story, Sam. Contains a good lesson about bullying, but without being preachy. I guess every school has at least one kid who gets picked on for being different, and it seems funny at the time, but when you remember it years later it makes you feel ashamed. Thanks for sharing this!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you. Yes, we all (hopefully) learn to be better people as we age.

[Gaston Villanueva]

What a great story Sam! It flowed nicely and felt genuine
I also liked the detail about the apples at the end too
Well done!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Gaston, I'm happy that you enjoyed it.

[M.E.Lyle]

It is a nice name, and nice story too. Sam, you still tell a great story. Sorry I haven't been around more often.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Mike. It's good to hear from you.

[Leo]

Wonderful! LOVED the story! Will not pretend to have some clever remarks or suggestions. From the reader perspective - its just captivating and well-written.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Leo. I'm most appreciative.

[Frank]

Well Samuel, this is so honest and well written too. I loved the point of view and I enjoyed. Well done. From a European perspective it is fascinating to read stories of indians, we can forget sometimes because of the common language that you are in a completely different continent.

Small boys always pick on the one who is different and give a nickname, its cruel but is as old as hat. At least the subject found some good in the girl enough to change his ways and at least he acknowledged he owed her big time. Some people don't even do that these days.

Excellent, I shall read more of your work.

[Samuel Dickens]

Again, I'm most appreciative, Frank. I understand now that, when young, I never harbored ill feelings towards those who were different, but merely assumed the views of my peers. A common thing, I guess, though very wrong.

[Dara]

This story is so very engaging and one most people can relate to. Don't know why children can be so cruel but it speaks volumes for those that are often victims and the lessons they teach us. I just loved your story and look forward to reading more.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Dara. I always root for the underdog.