Fort Worth, Tx. July 13, 1870
Samuel Geminiah paced back and forth within the small space he considered a rather modest front room, as it filled with the shrill and wretched sounds of his beloved mid-labor. The noises emitting from the small red skinned woman and the curses she spewed forth were that of a live possession. She had a touch of the devil in her, he always said. It showed on her skin he always thought, and now it showed loudly to the world proof enough. He did not know she had even known most of these words!
Glancing side to side from the other end of the closed door, he reached into his breast pocket. Hidden behind the starched handkerchief was a perfectly rolled cigarette smoke. Putting it to his lips, he went to strike the match, when suddenly he heard from the other room, “YOU BETTER NOT BE SMOKIN’ THOSE SMELLY THINGS RIGHT NOW!” She had the nose of a blood hound. And they say childbirth is supposed to be joyous. Whoever ‘they’ are, THEY need to get shot. He bitterly put the smoke back in his pocket, “Of course not honey! You just keep doin’ whatchur doin’!” She emitted a final scream as the mid-wife announced loudly enough for Samuel to hear, “It’s a boy!” He swelled up with pride instantly. A boy! A boy for his very own that he could teach things and go fishin’ with. Peaking his head in with a smile, he looked to see the midwife walking away with the baby to swaddle when suddenly, his beloved Anna began huffing and puffing once more. She looked to him, her face redder than usual, “GET OOOOOOOOOOOOUT!” She roared, him instinctively reaching up to steady the bowler hat atop his head just in case it flew off from the force of her manly shriek. The last thing he saw was his next baby boy fall out of his wife with a ‘THUNK’ head first to the floor, the sound of the babies cries, and his own ‘THUD’ as he fainted. He would tell people later it was simply a spontaneous nap. Of he and Anna, he was the only one to awaken. His Tailfeather never opened her eyes again.
Days would pass and he’d sunk into the drink, feeling sorry for himself. Staring bitterly down at the dark haired and dark eyed infant boys who would remind him of what he had lost every day of their lives, he took another swig of the whiskey bottle grasped in his hands. “Guess it’s just us know.” He stated, narrowing his eyes
Fort Worth, Tx. July 13, 1879
“Where we goin’ papa?” Jackson asked, arching that quizzical brow that Samuel always got aggrivated with, because it usual meant the kid was going to call him on something stupid. “To visit your uncle Apisi.” Apisi Bear was not really their uncle, but he had been an acquaitance of Samuel’s for years after giving Samuel two
beaded bracelets to put on the boys so Samuel could tell the difference between them. This did not stop the boys, however, from switching bracelets and pissing everyone off. “We’re going to see Uncle Pissy?” Turning to look down at little Jedidiah, he stared in annoyance as the boy shoved both index fingers deep into each
nostril. “Apisi. And yes. Get those bags.” “Why are we taking everythin’ with us?” Jackson queeried, staring in suspicion to Samuel. He just sighed and stated, “Don’t know how long you two gonna be there, so just…keepin’ yah prepared.” “What’s prepared?” “It means to be ready for anythin.”