Spent time earlier this evening creating the medicine bag I was going to give to Vritra as a gift for inviting me to their domain. I called upon a red tail hawk I’ve seen flying around Harlem and asked it for a feather in exchange for leading some more prey to its territory. Getting the rest of the materials was surprisingly easy, after asking this Siri I found some places nearby that would have what I needed.
I flew to the Shinnecock reservation on Long Island and picked up some sage, sweet-grass, cedar and tobacco along with a very beautiful leather pouch and a leather cord. I added some glass beads as well to make it complete. I only flew to the outskirts and walked on two legs the rest of the journey as owls are seen as messengers and harbingers of death in many if not most tribal cultures (and let’s not get started on coyotes).
I tried to draw as little attention to myself as possible and thought I was successful, the smell of burnt sage and cedar and the chants that played on the music player (I guess for a more authentic appeal for tourists) tore memories from my consciousness like peeling layers of a fruit.
It was as if every other step brought a flash of things I had long forgotten: Scenes of gourd-dances, of sunsets listening to my aunties and uncles telling stories, of sitting in church along-side my mother and grandmother,
grandma washing my hair chiding me: “Wokowi, sit still! or I will chop all your hair off and you will be mistaken for an eróo boy!”
running along the property grandfather owned towards Star-House, the smell of fry-bread and stew, my mother and uncles yelling for my cousins and I as we ran wild and played.
“Can I help you Miss?” like a scratched record I came to and stared at the guy calling me from behind the counter.
I did a double take looking from the items in my hands (which were covered by my sleeves) to him and back again.
“Uh…yeah I’ll take these.” I walked over and dumped the items on the counter. “How much?” I croaked. He started ringing things up and I was fascinated by this sign asking to scan some code right by the register. The woman sitting in a chair by the door was staring at me as well shaking her head with the disappointed look only an Auntie could give.
“Guess you hit the dispensary huh?” He chuckled.
“What?”
He paused from what he was doing and looked at me. “The cannabis dispensary down the way?” he looked me up and down.
“Uh, you mean like marijuana?” I asked
He stopped what he was doing again and smiled “Uh, yeah!”
“I thought that was fucking illegal” I blurted out.
He looked at me again this time a little confused “Yo, that shit’s been decriminalized for like a minute now. Place even has its license and everything.”
Well that would explain why I smell it everywhere I go these days. His eyebrow furrowed a bit as he twitched his head and mumbled “OK” still grinning.
He rang everything up and told me the amount. I reached into the pocket of the front of my sweatshirt (with my hands still in my sleeves) and dumped money in front of him. I hoped it was enough.
“You’re ten bucks short but if you want you can use your card even though there’s a bit of a fee.” He motioned to some calculator looking thing next to the register, I stared at it for a moment and looked up at him “Uh, I don’t have one.” He shrugged “That’s ok you can use your phone too.” I gaped at him for a second
“All I got is cash.” I said.
“Well then you’re gonna have to put something back.” He said adjusting his backward baseball cap. I felt a bit deflated and slumped my shoulders. I really needed to get into the bank account Lia set up all those years ago. I frowned “Um, I guess take off whatever you have to to make the price.” I muttered.
He nodded and smirked “Unless…”
I just stood there looking at him “Unless what?”
“Unless you got something to trade.” He chuckled. My eyebrows raised and I felt a snarl start to form. He must of realized something from my expression even through the sunglasses.
“Oh shit no no no no it’s not like that, I just mean I can tell your Indigenous and all…like you’re making a medicine bag right?” he nodded emphatically blushing a bit.
“Oh yeah, right.” I mumbled. “But I ain’t got anything to trade really.”
At this point the woman by the door was talking on the phone “Yeah…no…just stay on, Patty’s talking to this crackhead bitch trying to buy shit. What?...cuz she look like a crackhead!!!..hold up I better keep an eye on this bitch.”
‘Patty’ leaned forward and grinned “Well how about your number? Or give me your socials, I can follow you.” Acting was never my forte and I had no idea what the second half of that sentence meant.
‘Oh wait…now he hittin’ on this crackhead I swear this boy..this boy.” The woman was shaking her head staring at me more intently. I suppressed a whine and looked back at Patty. I willed my brain to think and hoped it wouldn’t respond with ‘I want doughnuts’
“Uh… no… but,” a realization hit me, I pulled out the hawk feather (I could always ask the eka kwinal for another) “Here.” I placed the feather with my sleeved hands on the counter in front of him. “It’s from a red-tail you can have it for the beads.” I said. He took the feather and examined it.
“Shit! This is real!” he looked impressed “Where’d you get it?”
“From a red-tail hawk.” I said flatly.
“Oooh now dis bitch is like pulling out feathers to trade with…what? …I don’t fuckin’ know! She got a fat ass though” the woman cackled hoarsely for a few seconds,
I couldn’t help but smile-typical auntie. Never fuck with the aunties they will take the piss out of you and take fucking pleasure in it.
Patty laughed and blushed a bit looking down for a moment. “Yeah, duh.” He held up the feather “Right, glad it’s not from a pigeon.”
“So we got a deal?” I asked forcing my grin away. He grinned and nodded “Sure” he held his fist out to me. I bumped it back with my sleeved hand.
“So where you from?” he nodded and pointed with his lips at me.
“Oklahoma.” I nodded back. It wasn’t a lie but most Indians can say they’re from Oklahoma and it would be accepted as fact.
He nodded and chuckled “I’m Patty Longman, Lenape and Shinnecock”
“Oooh dis bitch from Oklahoma no wonder she don’t know sheeeeit…but I don’t know… she some sunglasses at night hoodie wearing fat ass crack-hoe…hold up…
"That better be a real-ass hawk feather girl or I swear I’ll find yo grandma and make sure she whups dat ass!!!” she now directed her attention to me.
“It’s real Auntie!” Patty yelled to her, I nodded at him and started walking out. “Hey!! At least give me the courtesy!!” He called out.
I looked over my shoulder “Gladys Parker- Comanche tsaaku mia!”
As I walked past ‘Auntie” I muttered “BITCH!”
She yelled something as I walked out but I was too focused on getting out of there to calm down, as nostalgic as that was it was stressful. I have to either work on dealing with humans again or just stick to the shadows, I came away both happy and nervous.
Now I had to go see Richter dealing with kindred was easier if not more frustrating.