Roy and Sally had been greeted by a caravan.....

.......................................................................................................................................................................................
(some time ago)

...... of cars, pickups and even motorcycles at the airport. It appeared that half the tribe had come to the airport to greet them. They had no lack of offers to ride back and didn’t even have to lay a hand on their luggage. Some one else took care of that small detail. Naturally he and Sally rode in the pickup with his mom and dad. It was a second hand crew cab oilfield surplus. Roy had learned how to drive in that truck when he was a kid. His dad was unlikely to ever sell the thing.

Sally didn’t care. She was content to be with Roy.

The ride back to the rez was uneventful. They chatted and visited the whole way back. When they got there his mom hustled Sally off with all the other wimmen-folk .

“Let the squaws have their little pow-wow boy. So tell me.” His father said "_ Have you finally decided to come back to stay? Have you had enough of the white man’s world?_”

“Yes father I have.” Roy told him truthfully, "_ And no father I haven’t_”

“Injun speak with forked tongue” his father sighed, "or even worse, you’re bringing white man stuff here.”

“Got it in one.” Roy told him.

“I’m stepping down.” his father said. "Me and your mother have had enough of listening to every little bitch and moan that everyone has. We’ve done that for long enough. Your turn now. I’m gonna play with my grand-babies smoke my pipe and sit on the porch in my rocking chair. You’re the chief as of now.”

Roy blinked. This was not totally unexpected. The position of being Chief was pretty much hereditary...but he’d not expected to have the job quite so soon.

Oh. Well.

“Yes Father.” he said.

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The Beginning

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