A Drumstick's Story - Part 3 of 4
by Joe Liles
The identities in these stories are occasionally fictitious.
The memories are real. With special thanks to Richard Crowe.

Liles

Thinking back over my life so far, it has really seemed like a great mystery to me the way things have unfolded. I have gotten to the point that I have stopped questioning why things happen the way they do. My questions have been replaced with faith, faith that my life is going to work out. I can honestly say that I am learning the most I can from every experience that comes to me. When I spoke to you last, I was in a place called a pawnshop in Oklahoma City. I spent my days there on a shelf in a glass case until a man who I call "Longbraids" came along and rescued me by giving Pawn Man some money.

Longbraids took me to his car, climbed in behind the wheel, and put me on the seat next to him. As we were getting in, I noticed a big drum wrapped in a blanket that was propped up in the back seat. There was a pouch of tobacco on top of the drum. Longbraids talked to me as he put the key in his car's ignition. He told me that this was a real "Indian Car," that her name was "Mary," and that she had been with him a long time. He turned the key, but instead of the sound of the engine, all he got was a dull click. "Come on, Mary, you can do it!" he coaxed, but still the engine would not turn over. Longbraids got out of the car and raised the hood. It was not long before a guy named Brother came over with some long wires. Longbraids and Brother used these wires to connect Mary with Brother's truck.

Brother started the engine of his truck and Longbraids climbed back in and turned the key. There was a roar as the engine caught. Longbraids let out a yell and patted the dashboard gently. "That's my baby!" he said. On the way out of Oklahoma City, Longbraids had to stop for something he called a "chicken fried steak" sandwich. He said that this was his last chance to get one of these for a long time. We got on a highway that was labeled I-40 West. Longbraids said we were headed to a place named Albuquerque that was in a different state called New Mexico. We were going to something known as Gathering of Nations.

Whatever it was, it sure sounded important to me, at least as important as this chicken fried steak thing that Longbraids was making such a big deal about. The buildings of the city rapidly gave way to the open land of a flat prairie. Not far off the road I could see strange machines, like giant birds, bobbing up and down. Longbraids told me that these were oil wells. He said it was oil that made the world go around without squeaking. Longbraids started up a song and kept time with me on the dashboard. The richness of his voice took me by surprise.

I was with a fine singer. I felt honored to be with him. Before Longbraids, none of my other owners talked to me that much. Longbraids talked to me even more than Mr. Crowe. It seemed that Longbraids actually enjoyed my company, and I enjoyed his. We passed through a place called the Panhandle of Texas. It turned out that the flat land was just beginning. This part of Texas had even fewer trees than Oklahoma City. The road went straight, and we went fast, always heading for the western horizon. Longbraids sang song after song. He said that singing helped him stay alert while he was driving.

Longbraids told me that we were not going straight to the Gathering of Nations. He had some friends in a place called Taos that he wanted to see. We got off the main highway as soon as we got to the place called "The Land of Enchantment." The sign went by so fast I was not sure where we were, but I think it was New Mexico. It was early afternoon when I saw mountains in shades of blue and purple in the distance. They looked very different from the mountains I remembered in North Carolina. These mountains looked really big and appeared to rise straight out of the prairie.

Longbraids told me that Taos was famous for another thing, and that was great Mexican food. When we got to town, we stopped by a Mexican restaurant next to the main plaza. I even got to go inside! This Taos place was special, no doubt about it. When we were finished here, we headed to the outskirts of town. We pulled into a dirt parking lot. lust ahead, there was a group of buildings that were the color of the earth. These buildings looked as if they had been stacked on top of each other. Longbraids said that this was the pueblo. Looming up in the east, beyond the buildings, were high, snow-covered mountains.

Longbraids grabbed me, a blue and orange striped blanket, and a small cassette tape recorder, and walked into a large dirt plaza that separated two groups of the earth buildings. Longbraids approached a blue door and knocked. A man came to the door. "Steven!" Longbraids exclaimed. The two men embraced. "I came to hear those new songs you told me about in Denver," Longbraids said. Steven welcomed us inside. He gathered a bag of drumsticks and a drum North like I had never seen before. It was a deep drum made out of a light-colored wood. It appeared to be made from a hollowed out log. We left Steven's house and walked through an alleyway to another building. A young man from a yellow door joined us, and we walked across the plaza to a bridge over a large creek. The creek was flowing from the direction of the snow﷓covered mountains. I sensed that this creek tied these people of the earth buildings to the mountains in a powerful, even mysterious way. I thought that it was no accident that Steven had chosen this place to bring the drum.

Steven, the Yellow Door Man, and Longbraids held the drum from leather straps that were tied to its laces. I joined the two other sticks on the drum as Steven started a slow drumbeat that rocked gently back and forth from loud to soft. When Steven sang the start of the song, it made me shiver. His voice was high and delicate. The Yellow Door Man joined in, and I could hear Longbraids carefully put his voice in to match the other two. This song was unlike anything I had ever heard. The twists and turns were amazing. The melody was haunting and joyful at the same time. This song flowed just like the creek flowing below us. Steven started song after song. I enjoyed listening to Longbraids as he felt his way through these new songs. He sang softly at first, but his voice grew stronger as the songs grew in power. This new kind of drumbeat soothed me into a peaceful state of mind.

The songs ended without a word as the late afternoon sun colored the high mountains in an orange light. Longbraids shook Steven's hand and took the red and blue blanket and put it around Steven's shoulders. "Thank you for these songs," Longbraids said. °I will use them in a good way."

Longbraids took his tape recorder and me and headed back to the car. We headed south on highway 68 toward a place called Santa Fe. We listened to the new round dance songs on the way. We stayed overnight in Santa Fe in the cheapest motel Longbraids could find. I was surprised when Longbraids took the drum into the room with us. He explained that he treated the drum as if it were a person. He always made sure that the drum was safe and did not get too hot or cold. He said that if he took care of the drum that the drum would take care of him.

The next morning we continued south to Albuquerque. After a couple of wrong turns we made it to the campus of the University of New Mexico. As we approached the center of campus, I began to notice Indian people everywhere. They were carrying suitcases and visiting in small groups. There were elders, mothers, fathers, and children. Everyone was moving, fast and slow, toward this one particular building. Longbraids told me that this building was called "The Pit." I wondered what this meant. I had the distinct feeling that Gathering of Nations would be different from any powwow I had ever experienced.

Longbraids parked Mary and stuck me in his belt. He carried the drum by a strap with one hand, and with the other, he carried a stand and a drumstick bag that he got out of the trunk. We headed into the building. We walked through a place called "Traders' Market." It was incredible! If you could imagine all the beautiful things associated with Indian culture, they were there. We worked our way through a large crowd of people in another place called "Powwow Alley." Every kind of Indian food was being cooked and sold. The smell of frybread was what I liked the most. We made our way down to the floor of the building and stepped out into a vast openness. I lost my breath. This was the biggest arena I had ever seen. Rows and rows of seats rose up in all directions. The arena was busy with activity. Drums were being setup all around the outside of what would be the dance floor. People were testing the sound system with lots of microphones, cables, and speakers.

Longbraids spoke to a man named Arena Director. Longbraids said: "I am the head singer for the Otter Trail Drum. Where would you like me to set up?" Head singer! This was a surprise to me, but I was in for another. Longbraids' drum was one of the host drums for this year's Gathering of Nations. Arena Director showed Longbraids a large circle of chairs near the entrance to the arena dance floor. After the drum was set up, other singers with the Otter Trail drum started showing up. It was like a reunion of sorts. There was handshaking, backslapping, joke telling, and a lot of laughter. I had never heard Longbraids laugh, but he laughed now. When Longbraids laughed, the power of his voice really came out. It made me happy to be around all this positive energy.

The events that unfolded at Gathering of Nations stand clear in my mind today. But there is one particular time I want to tell you about. It was the Grand Entry of dancers on that Saturday afternoon. The Otter Trail Drum was ready to go when the master of Ceremonies called for the song. Longbraids placed me on the drum and started up a song that was seconded in unison by the rest of the singers at the drum. I Was So proud to be in the middle of all of this. A color guard carrying flags and eagle staffs came in the main entrance to the arena floor. Then, to my amazement, dancers started streaming into the arena from the stands full of spectators. The men's traditional dancers came in one entrance, the grass dancers through another, women's shawl down at the far end, and so forth. The fancy dancers were spinning. The men's' traditional dancers were bending low. The women in buckskin were so graceful. The grass dancers were swaying this way and that.

When the Otter Trail drum had sung the song four times through, the song was passed to the next host drum. This drum started up a new song without missing a beat! I had never seen this done before! There were so many dancers. They just kept coming and coming! There must have been six host drums and at least another 30 drums set up all around the dance floor. The Grand Entry lasted a long time to get all the dancers into the arena. Each host drum got to sing several times as the cycle of passing off the song came around again and again.

During the Grand Entry, there was one dancer that for some reason captured and held my attention. This was a young woman wearing a cloth dress that was decorated with beadwork that looked like flowers. She danced behind the color guard and elders. The Master of Ceremonies announced that her name was April. She was Miss Indian World and she was from North Carolina. I could not believe it! North Carolina! That was my home! My mind raced as I wondered if she knew Mr. Crowe. In all my travels, she was the first person I had seen who was from my home state. I could not stop thinking about her. I tried to keep an eye on her in the crowd.

After Grand Entry, the Flag Song, a Veterans' Song, and a couple of intertribals, another unusual thing happened. All the singers at all of the host drums were called out into the center of the arena. It seemed to me that they were going to honor these singers in some special way. The Master of Ceremonies explained that these men carried a heavy responsibility. They were the keepers of the music of the people. They were charged with keeping the heartbeat of traditional Indian ways alive. The MC went on to say that a special song would be played over the arena sound system. He said that all the singers were to dance to this song to show their unity and devotion to their duty. There was a moment of silence before the song began. Every eye in the arena was on these singers. I was watching Longbraids.

When the music began, much to everybody's surprise, it was not a traditional Indian song at all. It was a song that I had heard on the car radio with Longbraids when we were traveling down from Santa Fe. It was the Macarena!

At first, the singers who were trying to be so serious did not know what to do. Then they began looking at each other. They started laughing. They realized that the joke was on them, and they were not getting out of it. One by one, they started doing the Macarena! There must have been sixty of these men out there! The people up in the stands were laughing, cheering, and making whoops with their voices. When the song was over and the Otter Trail guys got back to the drum, they were all out of breath. They were still laughing. Longbraids said to everyone: "Well, I guess that will teach us not to take ourselves too seriously."

A little later on that afternoon, after several intertribals and a round of competition songs, the MC announced that there was going to be a special song for April for serving as Miss Indian World during the past year. April would be crowning a new young woman for this position during the evening powwow later that day. April was joined by her mother and father, other family members, and close friends. Otter Trail Drum was called to sing an honor song. Once again, I was so proud when Longbraids put me on the drum, set the beat, and started the song. April and her group of family and friends danced one time around the arena. Then the dancers came into the arena behind them to show their support. It made me feel good to have my home state represented in this way.

When the song was over, all the dancers lined up to shake April's hand. A man took the microphone and spoke for her. He explained that April felt very honored to represent all the Indian people as Miss Indian World. He explained that she had traveled many places and done many things. Then he said that April would like to call up the singers from the drum that sang her honor song. She wanted to recognize them with a gift of tobacco from her home that she had tied into bundles in the traditional way of her people.

When Longbraids stood up with the members of his drum, he took me with him as he walked to the front of the arena. It seemed as if we were in slow motion as we approached April and her family. All the sounds around me went silent. As Longbraids reached out to shake her hand, April opened her arms and hugged him. He held me next to the softness of her dress. It felt so powerful to be so close to someone from my home. This moment seemed to last forever, but I am sure that it was only a trick of my mind.

I had finally made contact with my home and yet no one knew it but me.

My story concludes on the next page... (or does it?)