“That looks like it might need stitches.”

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“Oh, well. No chance of that out here.”

“I can stitch it,” said Coli, walking up and only glancing casually at the still form of Trip.

“Uh, no thanks,” I said, almost laughing at the idea of letting this cranky girl put a needle in my face.

“Our father was a doctor. He taught her how to do it,” said Jeremy, coming over to join our little group. “So what now? You won the right to make some decisions. I’m not sure how much right you actually won, but at least I agree you can take your friend back.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I’ve won whatever the hell I want.” I held up my hands to appease the people with feathers starting to ruffle. “But … I don’t want a lot, so hopefully this will be pretty painless. At least more painless than it was for Trip.”

I got a good laugh out of that one, and it helped people feel more at ease. I could tell by the frowns disappearing and the folded arms dropping. The only one who still looked pissed was Coli and I was starting to get used to that.

“Here’s what I want: First, Peter’s coming with me. Second, he, Bodo and I will be living here full time until we decide we don’t want to anymore - and I expect everyone here to not only respect that but also to make sure others respect it. Last, I want all of you to get together with the Miccosukee and find a way to live together and cooperate. Put together a new tribe or an alliance or whatever you want to call it. Just get it done … like soon. Tomorrow.”

“Why are you so fixated on this alliance?” asked Jeremy, loud enough that everyone could hear.

“Because we’ve been outside the swamp, as far north as Sanford, and there are groups of cannibals forming out there - gangs - who are moving around and terrorizing all the towns that we saw on our way down here. They’re going after and eating other kids. And let me tell you, those cannibals are fat, okay? They’re not just doing it to survive. They’re enjoying it. Enough freaks are moving into leadership roles out there and they’re brainwashing everyone with them to think it’s okay to eat people.”

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“So, what does that mean to us if a bunch of white people are eating each other. Let ‘em,” said Jeremy.

“Right. And how long do you think it’ll take them to realize you’ve got some prime beef right here in the swamp?” I reached out and pushed on Trip’s body with my foot. “You guys are easy pickins if you keep your tribes separate. They have guns. They’re going to find more ammo and they’re going to eventually find the rocket launchers and bazookas and everything else. You need to get your shit together and grow your community. We need more people to fight against them when they come. And they will come, I guarantee it.”

Several of the onlookers began talking in low tones to one another. I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Jeremy took the bull by the horns and said the words I wanted to hear.

“What you’re saying makes sense. We have some history with the Meeks. Our parents were once friends … at least some of them were.” He gave a pointed look to his sister. “We heard rumors, from Celia, that there’s some weird stuff going on out there.” He looked at his tribesmen. “What do you guys think? Trip’s out of commission but I’m his second. I’m willing to take a vote and suffer the consequences from Trip’s temper later. Who’s in favor of discussing an alliance?”

Most of the hands went up.

Jeremy shrugged. “Looks like majority says we do that.”

“Good. I’m going back to my hut now. Why don’t you guys come tomorrow afternoon to the hut used for rituals, and we’ll have a meeting there. We can figure out the details with the whole group together.”

“We’ll eat together,” said Coli, standing up straight. “Like our people used to do when there were tribal gatherings.”

“Good idea,” I said. “It’s potluck. Bring your covered dishes and we’ll see you in …,” I looked down at my watch, “… fifteen hours, give or take.”

Bodo put his hands on my shoulders from behind, giving me a strong, quick massage as we walked back towards the canoe. “Dat wass amazsing. I can’t wait to learn dat stuff.”

I smiled tiredly. Now that I’d kicked butt and taken names, I was exhausted. I hadn’t eaten enough calories to do what I’d done today - I was going to have to find a belt to hold up my shorts or pretty soon I’d have to run around in one of those breechcloths too.

“You’re giving lessons?” asked Jeremy.

“Yeah. That’s what I agreed to do in exchange for a place to live.”

“I’d like to get in on that.”

“Sign up with the Miccosukee and you can.”

He didn’t say anything in response, but I knew it was helping our cause that free krav maga lessons had just been thrown into the pot.

We reached the canoe and Bodo helped both Peter and me climb into it. I was really glad I wasn’t being called on to paddle because my arms felt like they were made of rubber - the super flimsy kind.

“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Nokosi,” said Jeremy.

Now he was going to use the nickname too, I guess. I lifted my hand in a weak wave. “See ya.”

“Wouldn’t wanna be ya,” said Peter, in a voice so quiet only those in the canoe could hear him.

We all giggled as we pulled away, letting the current and a lazy paddle dipping in the water spin our boat around and point us back home.

I nearly cried when I got back to our hut and found three small mattresses lying on the floor and Buster’s fuzzy butt parked right in the center of the middle one. He came running over with a bark to greet me, making me feel like a million bucks. I bent over to give him the attention he craved and to accept his five hundred licks of welcome.

“Holy mackerel, mother of little baby fishes, is that a bed?” whispered Peter. His hands came together up at his chest, making a bunch of rapid little claps, his face glowing with deranged delight, which only served to get Buster even more excited. He left me to go lick-attack Peter’s ankles.

I put my hand on Peter’s painted shoulder, patting him with my fingers. “Ease up there, Mary.”

He swatted me away and clapped some more. “Shut up. You’re spoiling my prayers.”

“Who are you praying to? Holy mackerel?”

“No, to the swamp gods.”

“Swamp gods.”

“Yes. Shush.” He closed his eyes and moved his lips in silent prayer.

I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re more apt to find a swamp monster out here than a god, but whatever floats your boat.” I dragged my tired butt over to the mattress, the middle one of the three, and sat down with my legs crossed, making room in my lap for Mr. Wiggly Fuzzy Buns himself; I giggled with sleepy-silliness, thinking about how my dad used to call this sitting ‘indian-style’.

“Someone left some food here for us,” said Bodo, his mouth already full. “I think it’s deer meat. Delicious.”

I held up my hand above my head and behind my back. “Hand me some. I’m too tired to move.”

Peter came over shortly with a wooden platter, covered in meat and some grilled vegetables I didn’t recognize. I did care what they were - I inhaled them all, and then licked the plate clean, only giving Buster a few little pieces - I was quite certain he’d already been fed if his round belly were any indication. My stomach groaned loudly with the sudden influx of food - more than it’d had in there in a long time. I chugged the fresh water from the bottle Bodo gave me when he came to sit down on the mattress to my left. When I was finished, I put both the empty bottle and the platter on the ground near the head of my mattress and laid down on my back. Buster settled between my legs and rested his head on my thigh.

“So, you are da queen of da swamp. How does dat make you feel?”

I sighed. “It makes me feel loaded down with responsibility.”

Bodo laid back and turned his head to look at me, folding his arms behind his head. “Don’t worry. You haff me and Peter to help you.”

“That’s good to know … no great to know,” I said, as I lost the battle to stay awake and drifted off to sleep.

We slept through the night and into half of the next day. Nobody bothered to wake us up, but when I stood up to go pee, I found another pile of food on the shelves that looked as if it had recently been brought in. I walked over and tore off a hunk of heavy bread filled with whole grains, seeds and nuts. I sniffed it first, finding it smelled just like the yeasty breads I was used to from back in the old days, when my dad would shop at the local organic market.

I took a bite and breathed out a sigh of pleasure. Damn, that tastes good.

I popped the rest of it in my mouth and moved off to find some privacy. Buster followed along beside me, sniffing as he went.

By the time we got back, the guys were sitting up and we had company - Kowi and Coli, standing just outside the hut.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes going to the cut on my cheek.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Well, I hear we have a meal to put on tonight.”

“Yeah. Sorry about the short notice.”

He smiled. “Not a problem. We started preparing last night as soon as you guys got back. Sounds like you made quite an impression over there.”

I noticed Coli didn’t look quite as cranky as usual today for some reason. I wondered if it had anything to do with our activities of last night or whether it was Kowi’s reaction to it. She was almost pretty when she wasn’t scowling. It was probably best not to comment on it, though, or it would probably disappear like a puff of smoke.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’m not so sure Trip appreciated it when he woke up.”

“Trip will be fine,” said Coli, a slight smile on her face. “He needed to be taken down a peg or two, anyway.”

“I doubt he’ll agree with that,” I said.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a good sport, deep down,” said Kowi.

“Very deep,” clarified Coli.

“Good,” I said, “because I’m not interested in fighting him again. Once was enough for me.”

“Yeah, he’s tough. He’s gotten the best of every single one of us at one time or another. That’s part of the problem we’ve had, which is what I came to talk to you about,” said Kowi.

“Okaaaay … why don’t we all have a seat?” I gestured to the living room part of our quarters rather than the area with the mattresses.

Bodo and Peter came out of the other room and grabbed their food off the shelves, joining us to sit in a circle on the floor.

I reached over and snagged my share of food, pulling it into pieces with my fingers and putting it in my mouth while Kowi talked. Buster begged for his share and Peter made sure he got it.

“When our parents, grandparents, and little sisters and brothers died, we were all living together - us, the Creek and the few Hitchitis and Oconees that are still around. The whole Seminole Nation just kind of crumbled into its original pieces, but we were still kind of together. After a few months, though, we had some disagreements about who was going to be in charge and how we were going to do things - plus who was going to have access to certain hunting grounds. So eventually we split into two groups: the Miccosukee who absorbed most of the Hitchitis, and the Creek who took the Oconees. Trip took the role of chief over there, since he’s the strongest and has the most aggressive personality. I took the role here.”

“Kowi was voted on by us. He didn’t take the role by force like Trip did,” said Coli.

Kowi continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Trip and I were friends in high school. We hung out and played sports together. He’s changed since then, yeah … we all have. But deep down he’s a good guy. He always played fair on the field, and I think he’ll play fair with us now.”

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