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.

[TL Boehm]

I can see this nestled in the pages of Highlights magazine. such a great story. Honest, transparent, but not preachy - and the voice is wonderfully clear. Well done.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Tammy. I'll be glad to submit it.

[Daffy]

Absolutely, Samuel. The story was very absorbing, and enjoyable as usual. The hint about the ghostly side of the tale brings me again to realise how special your stories are. Thanks for this one. (PS, a score out of 100 is not enough, I am going to try to see if I can give 110/100.....)(PPS, nope, I have somekind of mathematical instruction, using less than or equal to, so I will try 99.9/100)(PPPS, whats a digit? I have to enter only fingers.....must mean integer methinks)

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, dear Daphne, I am most honored. You've made my day.

[Marie]

THis is a great story. I could see it all happening. . So typical of boys to think that way. Parents would have constant heart attacks if they knew all the things their kids got up to.

You're right about kids being cruel, I was picked on often because of my size, but I wasn't the only one.

[The Twin Arenas]

This is really great, man. It's simple and nostalgic and I could see everything and I got a little f*****g emotional at the end (I'm easy like that, but still....doesn't always happen)

you know how to write. look forward to reading more of your stuff.

[Woody]

I have nothing to add to what roark's just said concerning the quality of the story. it's got all the hallmarks of your unique penmanship.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Woody. I'm so pleased to know you enjoyed it.

[roarke]

Really good story, especially the ending. This could be expanded to weave the older folk tale with your new one. One suggestion.... The transition from the school introduction to your character Therese, then to the swimming hole is kind of abrupt. I was picturing the school and atmosphere then suddenly I'm by the bank of a river..... I think it needs a one sentence segue or something. Other than that Sam, ACES.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks a lot, Bill, and I believe you are right about the gap. I shall work on it.

[roarke]

there it is, centers the whole thing, bang.