shook her hand. âForgive me if I donât stand.â
âHe has an artificial foot,â said Farber, which brought a look of frank displeasure to Eichenâs face.
âI am not disabled,â he said, and pushed himself to his feet. He wore a tan suit, blue shirt, and a braided leather bolo tie secured with a turquoise clasp the size of a duck egg. His blue eyes assessed her from behind avant-garde black wooden eyeglasses. He spoke perfect English with no discernible accent. âIâm in my bankerâs mufti, but tonight I will don leggings and a tattered ghost shirt and become Takoda. It is a Sioux name meaning Friend to All.â His eyes twinkled. Flirtatiously, she thought.
She said, âYou obviously take your hobby very seriously.â
âIt is more than a hobby,â said Drumming Man. âIt is our spiritual quest.â
âSorry. I didnât mean to make light.â
âDonât apologize,â said Eichen. âDrumming Man has a sensitive ear and is constantly on the defensive against mockery.â
âAs am I. I wouldnât like to think that your imitation of American Indians was a send-up.â She softened the comeback with a smile.
The group apparently favored the dress of the Great Plains tribes, although it appeared to be a mix-and-match affair. Little Deer wore her blond hair in a perky mushroom bob with a plush scarf coiled around her neck like every other woman in Berlin.
âI assure you our admiration is sincere,â said Eichen. âWe Germans live pragmatic, prosperous lives, but we feel an absence. We have become alienated from nature and der Indianer club is an outlet for our nostalgia. One might say, a nostalgia for the forest.â
âWe dream a past that is innocent of the lust for conquest and the industry of murder,â added Drumming Man, his face somber and spookily earnest. âWe put on the simple garments that your Indian ancestors wore and harmonize our thoughts with the music of the drums, which is the heartbeat of life. In dreaming, we transcend this soulless time. In drumming, we are forgiven.â
Little Deer giggled. She looked a lot younger than her husband and Dinah inferred that she wasnât entirely on board with his desire to transcend this soulless time.
Farber looked uncomfortable. It was an awkward moment between husband and wife, but Dinah got the feeling that Drumming Manâs painful earnestness embarrassed Farber. He said, âSwan has told me that her Seminole ancestors are the only tribe that did not surrender to the United States Government. Is that true, Dinah?â
âThe Florida Seminoles were never officially defeated. Like the rest of the Indian nations, they lost anyway.â
Drumming Man said, âWe are anxious to meet your mother. Her profile in the Native American registry says that her name was shortened from Suwannee, a river of wild black water and deep channels. She must be geheimnisvoll .â
âMysterious,â Eichen translated with a twinkle. âIf she is anything like her daughter, she is a most attractive woman.â
Not sure how to respond, she said, âTell me about Chief Winnetou. I understand heâs practically deified in Germany.â
âNot deified,â said Farber. âThe stories of Winnetou are fairy tales, good against evil. It was Buffalo Bill Codyâs Wild West Show in Munich in eighteen-ninety that gave rise to clubs like ours.â
âThe Indians are a tragic people,â said Drumming Man, sounding tragic. âThey were vanquished from their land and murdered, just as Winnetou was murdered by the Yankees who lusted for Indian gold.â
âAnd what a fine time we had last year searching for the burial mound of the great chief,â said Little Deer, the bite of sarcasm unmistakable. âIn Wyoming I understood what it feels like to be buried.â
Eichen clapped an arm around Drumming
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