Read Online The People: And Other Uncollected Fiction by Bernard Malamud - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bernard Malamud
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President of
the United States and you must yield to him. If you don’t want to make serious trouble for your tribe, you had better behave without further complaint or resistance, verbal or otherwise. No doubt we will lead you to another reservation. I have no further details of that matter in this moment. In the meantime, you are impeding the manifest destiny of a young and proud nation. We will give you just thirty days in which to prepare for a move in accordance with our plans for you.”
“Please, Mr. Cohnel, we ask for more time and also a little more consideration. We are men with the worries and troubles of men. We got to have justice. If somebody takes away from you your house and your garden but he doesn’t pay you for it, is this justice?”
“Yah,” said three of the Indians. The others stoically shook their heads.
The colonel yanked his horse’s bridle as he signaled his men.
“There are ways to listen,” he said to Jozip. “One is with deaf ears, which is what you do. The other is with intelligent awareness of the possibility of change for the better, which is what you are avoiding doing. We must therefore affirm our right to this land in the name of our nation, and our inalienable right to direct your next move within this country. If you disregard us we will exercise the right of eminent domain and do with our land what we have to do to fulfill our destiny.”
“So what is eminent domain?” Jozip whispered to Indian Head.
“The strong man does what he wants. The weak man listens.”
“Will they make a war against us?”
“We will fight back.”
“I am a man of peace.”
“You are chief of this tribe.”
“If you will speak to us the truth, we are not afraid of your words,” Jozip replied to the colonel.
“We don’t need any lessons in ethics, my good man,” said the colonel. “And preachment won’t put any pork in your pot.”
“From pork I am not interested,” said Jozip, speaking for himself.
The colonel said “Giddap” to his horse and the soldiers began to ride off the reservation.
One of them, puzzled by Jozip’s eloquence, said aloud, “Who
the hell is he? He don’t sound like no Indian to me. Who the hell are you?” he said to Jozip.
“Let’s get on along,” said the colonel to the soldier.
“I am Jozip,” said Jozip.
“That means Joseph,” said Indian Head. “He is a man of peace. We do not want war with the white people.”
Jozip nodded. He had not spoken as well as he would like, yet he heard dignity in the words he had said. “If you speak with your heart,” he told himself, “the words fix themselves together in the right way. They will say what you want them to say.”
“Sounds like Jew talk to me,” said the colonel in the capacious cape. “Nobody can trust these goddamn Indians in any way at all.”
“That’s as true as anything,” said the cavalry soldier.
NINE
The Settler
ONE NIGHT three young braves beheld a white settler wandering in their woods. He was carrying an empty kerosene lamp, and every forty feet or so he sat down in the snow and tried to light the lamp. The wind blew out his sulphur matchsticks. The settler shook out the dead matchsticks and one by one flipped them over his shoulder into the bushes.
“He is in our woods,” whispered Small Horse. “He moves as if he is drunk.”
“He must be looking for a place to piss,” said Windy Voice.
“He’s spying on us,” Foxglove said. “We are fifty miles from the white fort. The big-ass colonel has sent him to spy on us to see if the tribe is getting ready to leave the valley.”
The three braves gravely observed the white settler sitting in the snow watching the rising half-moon.
“Let us show ourselves,” Small Horse whispered. “We will say we are ghosts. He will jump out of his shoes.”
“If we had brought a feathered bonnet with us,” Windy Voice said, “I would do a war dance around him.”
“I say he’s a spy,” said Foxglove. “He
the United States and you must yield to him. If you don’t want to make serious trouble for your tribe, you had better behave without further complaint or resistance, verbal or otherwise. No doubt we will lead you to another reservation. I have no further details of that matter in this moment. In the meantime, you are impeding the manifest destiny of a young and proud nation. We will give you just thirty days in which to prepare for a move in accordance with our plans for you.”
“Please, Mr. Cohnel, we ask for more time and also a little more consideration. We are men with the worries and troubles of men. We got to have justice. If somebody takes away from you your house and your garden but he doesn’t pay you for it, is this justice?”
“Yah,” said three of the Indians. The others stoically shook their heads.
The colonel yanked his horse’s bridle as he signaled his men.
“There are ways to listen,” he said to Jozip. “One is with deaf ears, which is what you do. The other is with intelligent awareness of the possibility of change for the better, which is what you are avoiding doing. We must therefore affirm our right to this land in the name of our nation, and our inalienable right to direct your next move within this country. If you disregard us we will exercise the right of eminent domain and do with our land what we have to do to fulfill our destiny.”
“So what is eminent domain?” Jozip whispered to Indian Head.
“The strong man does what he wants. The weak man listens.”
“Will they make a war against us?”
“We will fight back.”
“I am a man of peace.”
“You are chief of this tribe.”
“If you will speak to us the truth, we are not afraid of your words,” Jozip replied to the colonel.
“We don’t need any lessons in ethics, my good man,” said the colonel. “And preachment won’t put any pork in your pot.”
“From pork I am not interested,” said Jozip, speaking for himself.
The colonel said “Giddap” to his horse and the soldiers began to ride off the reservation.
One of them, puzzled by Jozip’s eloquence, said aloud, “Who
the hell is he? He don’t sound like no Indian to me. Who the hell are you?” he said to Jozip.
“Let’s get on along,” said the colonel to the soldier.
“I am Jozip,” said Jozip.
“That means Joseph,” said Indian Head. “He is a man of peace. We do not want war with the white people.”
Jozip nodded. He had not spoken as well as he would like, yet he heard dignity in the words he had said. “If you speak with your heart,” he told himself, “the words fix themselves together in the right way. They will say what you want them to say.”
“Sounds like Jew talk to me,” said the colonel in the capacious cape. “Nobody can trust these goddamn Indians in any way at all.”
“That’s as true as anything,” said the cavalry soldier.
NINE
The Settler
ONE NIGHT three young braves beheld a white settler wandering in their woods. He was carrying an empty kerosene lamp, and every forty feet or so he sat down in the snow and tried to light the lamp. The wind blew out his sulphur matchsticks. The settler shook out the dead matchsticks and one by one flipped them over his shoulder into the bushes.
“He is in our woods,” whispered Small Horse. “He moves as if he is drunk.”
“He must be looking for a place to piss,” said Windy Voice.
“He’s spying on us,” Foxglove said. “We are fifty miles from the white fort. The big-ass colonel has sent him to spy on us to see if the tribe is getting ready to leave the valley.”
The three braves gravely observed the white settler sitting in the snow watching the rising half-moon.
“Let us show ourselves,” Small Horse whispered. “We will say we are ghosts. He will jump out of his shoes.”
“If we had brought a feathered bonnet with us,” Windy Voice said, “I would do a war dance around him.”
“I say he’s a spy,” said Foxglove. “He
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