Benjamin pulled the badly fitting jacket tighter over his thin frame. His other wanted him to go to the potluck tribal picnic, though he wanted to stay home and play with the stray cat he had found. He named the cat Big Purr because that’s all it did around him. It didn’t like his mother, but it did love him.
The tribe had set up food on picnic tables, tons of native food and even things like kielbasa and hot dogs on the grill. It looked like a large company gathering.
Benjamin didn’t play with the other boys and girls his age, and his mother basically had to force him to leave the adults. There were some games, and people looked to him to see if he was getting along. He sat at the base of a tree, huddled in the jacket that smelled of cat and his sweat.
“Hey, kid,” said a young man, as he sat down next to him. Benjamin pulled himself away, catching the stench of tobacco and liquor on the man. Benjamin hugged the tree. “Ain’ your brother on the council?”
“He’s trying to be,” said Benjamin, looking out at the games. Which was worse?
“Though’ he was, bein’ stuck so far up Elder River’s ass.”
Benjamin wasn’t here to talk adult politics. That was between his brother and River. And his sister. He got up from the young man and walked over to the meadow. He looked up at the sky, a perfect spring day, not a cloud in the sky.
“I want to go home,” he whispered.
He thought he heard thunder in response, a thunder that spoke to him. “Home,” it said.
“I want to go home,” he said louder. The thunder did rumble again. “Home.”
His heart swelled suddenly, with love. “Come home,” he said, raising his arms. He began to sing, a chant his father had taught him, and his body moved, swaying side to side, his feet stomping the ground.
Nobody saw him, but their eyes were taken to the sky as the thunder rumbled Home and came rolling in faster than the people could clear the picnic areas.
A huge BOOM echoed through the valley and then the rains came. His mother came and fetched him, still dancing in the rain, and dragged him to the family truck. “You did it,” said his sister, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You did it.”
“Shut up!” Benjamin said, looking out at the sad remnants of the tribal picnic as people cleaned up in the rain. His mother jammed the stick shift against his leg and he moved it.
The look she gave him was pure fury. But it was repaid when he went into the trailer and Big Purr greeted him.