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Great Catch 6
So, that night we had salmon. We barbecued it on the grill, or I cooked the salmon. Rog, Martha, and Peter took many hours to fully recover from the cold water of Lake Erie while they ate a lot of salmon. For many a night for dinner after that, we had fish.
Maybe because of how difficult it was to survive the fishing trip, three family members nearly drowning. The fish was always the most delicious anyone ever ate. We did fish many times after that but that was the last time for boat fishing for the summer. Everyone on the boat wore life jackets always, which I hated personally but put up with solely so Ma and Mommy would let the kids go with me. They would question the kids when they returned home.
I always had to be extra careful about returning the moment it even looked like a squall. Oftentimes, I would fish alone or just with Rog as the kids grew but we never caught as much unless Martha was with us, Almanac or not. She was only allowed to go when the weather was perfect. As time went on, she would only go if Bjorn was allowed to come along.
Rog did not like Bjorn that much and thought that he and Martha spent too much time together for their ages. I know Mommy made him think that way. Church attendance was regular after the fishing trip and never missed because we thought Martha might listen to the pastor of the Lutheran church more than her parents. It was in style for teenagers to disobey their parents, the hippies were everywhere across the country.
If I remember my youth correctly, nothing new was happening but no one could be convinced of it so I kept it to myself. Pastor Franks was a fiery sermonizer and Bjorn was encouraged to go with the family to hear about hell, damnation, and what caused it as often as possible.
We were not really a hunting family, we were a fishing family. I had always wanted to hunt and so did Rog. He bought a rifle but we never did hunt. I never bought a rifle. We fished whenever we had the chance. He always cleaned the rifle whenever Bjorn came over and he was home. I don’t think he ever bought ammunition for the rifle but Bjorn and the kids did not know that.
I had not seen ‘them’, again, on all the fishing trips or at the marina and I began to doubt that I had seen them in the first place. It was foggy at the time. The waves threw up spray and I was extremely panicked at the sight of family drowning. It wasn’t until we went to the county fair as a family when Martha was 14 that I had a real inkling that what she experienced might be real.
We were at the fair in August. The kids rode the rides all morning and were a little woozy. They were officially teenagers and so the most death defying rides in front of their schoolmates were a must. The tests of courage and the taunts and dares died down as a dour greenness appeared in every rider's face.
It was still daylight, the shows were free, and Bjorn was with us. We decided that it was time for a rest and to watch a show. It was a country band, just right for a county fair. I forget who it was but they played about an hour. The kids recovered from ride sickness and danced, clapped to the music.
The next show after the western singing band was a group of different tribal dancers. I remember it well. There was a Hopi, Ute, Navajo, and Sioux and they were all men. They had on traditional clothing and their costumes were fantastic. The Hopi, if I remember right was a giant, winged feathered bird. The Ute was a hoop dancer. The Sioux was in a buffalo head with robe and spear. The Navajo wore leather and many intricate beads. There were drummers with several drums that beat the drums and sang while each dancer took turns dancing.
The first to dance was the Ute hoop dancer. The drums beat, the drummers sang, probably in Ute and the dancer started the dance with all these hoops. It was very intricate and my guess was that no one at the show had ever seen anything like this before in their lives. I thought he would fall over several times as he added hoop after hoop and then he stopped. The drummers stopped and the singing stopped. He stepped out of the hoops quickly and stood, yelled at the crowd, “I am the dancer, (I forget his name as it was in a foreign language…or a native language), and this is a sacred dance for which I have received many medals and awards. (He had patches and ribbons sewn on his outfit of leather). I have danced at the White House, the State Legislature, and around the world. You are supposed to clap when the dance happens to drive away the evil spirits. It is an insult to not clap when the dancer dances to entertain the good spirits who protect us and drive away evil spirits who would harm the tribe!”
He stood there for a moment staring angrily at the crowd and then he nodded at the drummers. No one there knew this. We were all a bit shocked. We did not know we were supposed to clap to the beat of the drums. We were spellbound waiting for him to fall over or kill himself. Once the drums started, we all began to clap to the drum beat.
“That is the way you do it!” The Ute smiled and started to dance to the beat, the song.
Martha clapped along and then stood up. She started to mimic the dancer as he danced and moved to the aisle. The dancer was in a concentration while he wrapped his body in the hoops and at first he formed a cross with fourteen hoops. Once he had the cross out. He looked up at the audience and saw Martha,
“If anyone knows this dance, they may join in!” Then he performed a series of very intricate steps with the cross out while Martha, without permission, ran down to the dance floor and Bjorn ran after her.
There must have been a couple of thousand people in the seats and Martha and Bjorn stepped down onto the packed dirt, not too far from the steps. They began to do exactly what the dancer did but without hoops.
The hoop dancer made several other complex hoop patterns with the hoops and the dance lasted maybe a half an hour. Martha, Bjorn, and then a few other kids down on the floor dancing around. Peter tried to join in but Mommy grabbed him and said to sit, she would talk with Martha later.
I said, “He said they’re supposed to join in if they know the dance. And someday, Martha might end up being a professional dancer. Let Pete join in it won’t hurt.”
“It is a pagan dance.” Mommy said.
“It looked like a cross to me,” Rog said, “We don’t know if they are pagans anymore. Let Pete go.”
She looked at her husband for a moment her authority questioned, “You might be right. If possible, we will ask them later and if this is a heathen dance…” her threat trailed off and she let Peter go.
“Thanks Dad.” He zipped on down to the dirt dance floor.
“It won’t hurt dear the war is over with them.” Rog said.
No one stopped clapping during this little spat, except for Mommy who had a hand on Peter’s shoulder. She began to clap immediately the moment Peter left and said smiling at her husband, “I suppose it really is good clean fun for them.”
“Well, if we do get a chance to talk to them, I want to ask if there is a fishing dance and maybe there is some improvement to what Martha does.” I said.
“What, will we catch a whale or something?” Rog asked, “That would be worth finding out.”
“Unbelievable,” Ma said. “I am certainly glad the children left before they heard that.”
A man turned around in his seat and asked Rog, “I wasn’t eavesdropping but your girl does a fishing dance?”
“Yes, she does.” Rog answered smiling.
“Does it work?” The man asked.
“Don’tchaknow,” Rog answered with a smile.
“Oh for the love of Pete,” Mommy exclaimed and ruined their conversation. “Martha and Bjorn are too close Dad.” Rog had to go down and say something. Bjorn was now four inches taller than Martha and looked like he might get even larger.
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Written for Steemit: Copyright © 2017 Jeff Kubitz - The Dancer - et al. All Rights Reserved. Steemit.com/steemit/@jeff-kubitz