is your special place it’s perfect. You Indians always did solemn things in special places.”
“We did?”
“Yeah. Vision quests, sun dances, those sorts of things. Always in a special place. So this is kinda right up your alley, being Indian and all.”
He produced a needle from a little packet of about a dozen. He licked it and then turned to me.
“Pledges gotta be done in blood. Blood’s the most magical ingredient. So, I’m gonna prick your finger and prick mine at the same time and we’re gonna rub our fingers together. We’ll smear the blood around and promise each other to secrecy and loyalty. Blood brothers.”
“Blood brothers?”
“Yeah. Indians do this all the time. I saw it on TV.”
“We don’t have a TV. Mom says books are better.”
“Smart, your mom. But TV’s good too sometimes. Ready?”
“I guess.”
“Get serious. This is important.”
“Okay,” I said, trying hard to sound solemn and serious.
He took my finger and with the tip of his tongue pressed between his lips, he pricked me hard with the needle. I jerked back in pain and a little drop of blood appeared. Then, closing his eyes and grimacing, he pricked his own. He looked at me then with that wide-open gaze, took my hand in his and pressed our bleeding fingers together, mashing them around and smearing our blood around.
“Got a warrior name?” he whispered.
“No.”
“Me neither. I’ll give you one and you can give me one. Then we can pledge. Okay?”
“Sure. What’s a warrior name?”
“You know … like Crazy Horse or Sitting Bull. Something fierce like we have to be.”
“Fierce. Hmm. Can it be anything?”
“I think so. As long as it’s strong. Animal names are best.”
“Animal names. Okay. How about … Laughing Dog!”
“Laughing Dog? Laughing …
dog
? You wanna name me after a dog? What the heck is a laughing dog, anyway? Dogs don’t laugh,” he said, sounding rather disgusted.
“Well, our neighbors on the north side, the Dietzes, have this big collie dog. He never barks. But when strange people come into their yard he just sits there looking at them with his mouth open and his tongue waggling around. Like he’s laughing. They get all comfortable figuring he’s quiet. But as soon as they get out of their car, that dog’s snarling and growling like a demon. Scares everybody. He did that to my mom one day. My mom says there’s nothing scarier than a laughing dog.”
“Hey, I like that! Cool. Laughing Dog.”
“What’s my name?” I asked.
He looked away through the branches for a moment, serious looking and deliberate. Finally, he nodded a few times and looked at me. “Your warrior name is … Thunder Sky!”
“Thunder Sky? That’s not an animal.”
“No. But it’s cool. And it’s strong. Maybe not fierce but it’s really strong.”
“How?”
“What’d you say?”
“How?”
“And you told me your weren’t really Indian!” he said and we laughed. “I picked Thunder Sky ’cause, well, thunder’s really loud. Everyone listens. And I think one of these days everyone’s gonna listen to you, Josh. Really.”
“Wow,” I said, humbled. “Thanks.”
“Okay, let’s pledge. Say like me, only use your warrior name. I, Laughing Dog, pledge to keep this and every secret of my blood brother and to always be loyal and good and kind. Except in battle ’cause that’s different. Now you.”
“OK,” I said slowly, “I, Thunder Sky, pledge to keep this and every secret of my blood brother and to always be loyal and good and kind. Except in battle ’cause that’s different.”
We looked at each other, uncertain of what was next and lost in the importance of the moment. I had never had a brother and now, through this strange ritual, I was tied by the solemn oath of friendship to the heartbeat of my blood brother, John Gebhardt, Laughing Dog. I knew that I would do anything in my power to stay loyal and kind and good to him. He smiled, licked his finger
“We did?”
“Yeah. Vision quests, sun dances, those sorts of things. Always in a special place. So this is kinda right up your alley, being Indian and all.”
He produced a needle from a little packet of about a dozen. He licked it and then turned to me.
“Pledges gotta be done in blood. Blood’s the most magical ingredient. So, I’m gonna prick your finger and prick mine at the same time and we’re gonna rub our fingers together. We’ll smear the blood around and promise each other to secrecy and loyalty. Blood brothers.”
“Blood brothers?”
“Yeah. Indians do this all the time. I saw it on TV.”
“We don’t have a TV. Mom says books are better.”
“Smart, your mom. But TV’s good too sometimes. Ready?”
“I guess.”
“Get serious. This is important.”
“Okay,” I said, trying hard to sound solemn and serious.
He took my finger and with the tip of his tongue pressed between his lips, he pricked me hard with the needle. I jerked back in pain and a little drop of blood appeared. Then, closing his eyes and grimacing, he pricked his own. He looked at me then with that wide-open gaze, took my hand in his and pressed our bleeding fingers together, mashing them around and smearing our blood around.
“Got a warrior name?” he whispered.
“No.”
“Me neither. I’ll give you one and you can give me one. Then we can pledge. Okay?”
“Sure. What’s a warrior name?”
“You know … like Crazy Horse or Sitting Bull. Something fierce like we have to be.”
“Fierce. Hmm. Can it be anything?”
“I think so. As long as it’s strong. Animal names are best.”
“Animal names. Okay. How about … Laughing Dog!”
“Laughing Dog? Laughing …
dog
? You wanna name me after a dog? What the heck is a laughing dog, anyway? Dogs don’t laugh,” he said, sounding rather disgusted.
“Well, our neighbors on the north side, the Dietzes, have this big collie dog. He never barks. But when strange people come into their yard he just sits there looking at them with his mouth open and his tongue waggling around. Like he’s laughing. They get all comfortable figuring he’s quiet. But as soon as they get out of their car, that dog’s snarling and growling like a demon. Scares everybody. He did that to my mom one day. My mom says there’s nothing scarier than a laughing dog.”
“Hey, I like that! Cool. Laughing Dog.”
“What’s my name?” I asked.
He looked away through the branches for a moment, serious looking and deliberate. Finally, he nodded a few times and looked at me. “Your warrior name is … Thunder Sky!”
“Thunder Sky? That’s not an animal.”
“No. But it’s cool. And it’s strong. Maybe not fierce but it’s really strong.”
“How?”
“What’d you say?”
“How?”
“And you told me your weren’t really Indian!” he said and we laughed. “I picked Thunder Sky ’cause, well, thunder’s really loud. Everyone listens. And I think one of these days everyone’s gonna listen to you, Josh. Really.”
“Wow,” I said, humbled. “Thanks.”
“Okay, let’s pledge. Say like me, only use your warrior name. I, Laughing Dog, pledge to keep this and every secret of my blood brother and to always be loyal and good and kind. Except in battle ’cause that’s different. Now you.”
“OK,” I said slowly, “I, Thunder Sky, pledge to keep this and every secret of my blood brother and to always be loyal and good and kind. Except in battle ’cause that’s different.”
We looked at each other, uncertain of what was next and lost in the importance of the moment. I had never had a brother and now, through this strange ritual, I was tied by the solemn oath of friendship to the heartbeat of my blood brother, John Gebhardt, Laughing Dog. I knew that I would do anything in my power to stay loyal and kind and good to him. He smiled, licked his finger
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