title: Somebody Always Singing You author: TwoTrees, Kaylynn Sullivan. publisher: University Press of Mississippi isbn10 | asin: 0878059814 print isbn13: 9780878059812 ebook isbn13: 9780585031927 language: English TwoTrees, Kaylynn Sullivan, Teton Indians- -Mixed descent--Biography, African subject Americans--Biography, Racially mixed people--United States--Biography. publication date: 1997 lcc: E99.T34A3 1997eb ddc: 973/.04043 TwoTrees, Kaylynn Sullivan, Teton Indians- -Mixed descent--Biography, African subject: Americans--Biography, Racially mixed people--United States--Biography. Somebody Always Singing You Kaylynn Sullivan Twotrees University Press of Mississippi Jackson Copyright © by Kaylynn Sullivan TwoTrees All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data TwoTrees, Kaylynn Sullivan. Somebody always singing you / Kaylynn Sullivan TwoTrees. p. cm. ISBN 0-87805-981-4 (alk. paper) 1. TwoTrees, Kaylynn Sullivan. 2. Teton IndiansMixed descentBiography. 3. Afro-AmericansBiography. 4. Racially mixed peopleUnited StatesBiography. I. Title. E99.T34A4 1997 973´.04043dc21 [B] 96-44080 CIP 00 99 98 97 4 3 2 1 Illustrations by Gail Della-Piana Designed by Amanda K. Lucas To Tod Contents BEING Chapter One 3 Ihanbla/To Dream Chapter Two 27 Hinhan Tanka/Great Owl Chapter Three 39 Anakihme/Secret Chapter Four 50 Pehin/Hair BECOMING Chapter Five 65 Wokiksuye/Live and Remember Chapter Six 101 Iyeska/Mixed Blood, Interpreter Chapter Seven 122 Cangleska Wakan/Sacred Hoop Chapter Eight 132 Dancing between the World Being Page 3 Chapter One Ihanbla/To Dream My grandmother thought I remembered everything she did, even the memories that were not ours. She wove the fragments of things she heard from my father before my birth into the fabric of her own dreaming. I added glimpses given by my mother and father when, in rare moments, they spoke of each other. So a story was born of their meeting and of my birth which suited the needs of each of us. His mother, Mabel, sent a message to him. He didn't know who had written it for her and taken it to the post office. It said simply: "Your halfside is coming. I dreamt my grandchild, a girl baby. Hinhan Tanka." Only a vision would cause her to go through so much trouble to send him a message. He touched the letter in his pocket as he watched his reflection in his shoes. The smell of shoe polish still lingered in his nose. From where he stood the reflection looked neat and strong. He looked like a soldiera sergeant. It made him feel like a warrior. It was this feeling that his father had revealed to him in his youth, and after boarding school he tried to regain it in the army. The sun was bright, and he could smell the plants waking up to the warmth of the sun and the arrival of summer on the heels of spring. Page 4 The smell was green and lush. His eyes took in the ivory magnolias in bloom, while his body soaked up the smell of new grass and the sound of children's laughter. He wanted to smile, but there was always a creeping discomfort when he remembered he was in Georgia. Fort Benning was an army base and he was a sergeant, but it was 1944, this was the South and his skin was brown. He answered an absentminded hello to someone who yelled "Hi, Art" across the grass. But he kept his eyes lowered on his shoes, not thinking where his feet were taking him. He was pleased with himself. The smells and sounds receded into the background as he let himself think about her, the librarian. He had been wondering about her more each time they crossed paths, about the way she held her head and eyes in a veil of sadness, or maybe it was loneliness. He couldn't tell. The librarian, Daisy, looked out the windows at a sunny and clear day, thinking about a special spot she had found where she could sit undisturbed at lunch time. Today she was missing the Iowa skies. She had thought that the army would be a place for some adventure and learning. Pop had told her there were more opportunities for Negroes who had been in the service, but she hadn't counted on the loneliness and homesickness. She was waiting for lunch as an opportunity to be alone and read. She was just about to leave when she saw him come into the library. As he pulled open the door, the breeze brought the smell of earth and sky in with him. She knew who he was, but she didn't know his name. He had not been in the library before, but she had seen him several times with some of the men her brother, Junior, visited when he came on leave to see her. It was strange for them to take to an Indian, but they said he was a good man. They teased him for being too quiet and for not dancing. At home anyone who didn't dance was suspect. He had tired of the testing, and at a party the last time Junior visited he had