When Running Horse doesn't eat with us first thing, I can't wait to get outside, where I know he is waiting. I look for Running Horse when we leave the lodge. I see his eyes on me and he touches Lit'l Fox, and then he touches me.

I'm puzzled by what he sees in me. He's several years older than I am. He's handsome. He can do everything better than I can, but when he smiles at me, his smile warms my innards.

While I was healing, and I was always sleeping, he would come and bring me something. I have the memory of him sitting close to me, but I thought he came in to see Lit'l Fox. They would leave together, after he sat a spell. After he gave me a little gift that put a smile on my face. Even the drink couldn't dull what Running Horse made me feel.

The first time Lit'l Fox took me out to walk, Running Horse met us and he stood on one side as Lit'l Fox stood on the other. I felt flushed when he took hold of my arm to keep me from falling. I was on my feet for the first time in ages, and my mind was full of Running Horse.

Medicine Woman spoke of it one morning, after Lit'l Fox and Running Horse left the lodge together.

"You have a strange effect on Running Horse. He is curious about you."

Running Horse smiles a lot and he says little. Lit'l Fox has things to say to Running Horse, and I pick up on most of it. Running Horse takes Lit'l Fox's counsel as if it is important. When I speak, he watches my face, my eyes, my lips. He doesn't have much to say, but he always smiles when he sees me.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

In the summer, on the hottest days the boys suggest fishing. It gives us an excuse to spend the day in the shade of the trees and in the cool refreshing water of the pond where the creek and stream meet. The water always runs there, and fed by mountain streams, it has a most wonderful coolness when the heat is turned up, and fish fill the pond to furnish us with an evening meal.

Fish were a good source of nourishment, and we could feed the village after an afternoon of fishing in the pond. Swimming still worries me some. All the boys swim without their loin cloth. I keep mine on. This earns me some notice. I am the only boy who keeps the skin below the breach cloth secret.

I am not bashful or shy. I'm not so big or small anyone would take notice.

One afternoon, as we fished, a mess of mosquitoes came from the far side and found us. In no time we was covered in them. We ran for a muddy swamp nearby, leaving our catch behind. Getting out of their breach cloths, the boys dove into the mud. They rolled, wrestled, and made a game of smearing mud on every inch of their bodies to defeat the army of mosquitoes biting us.

I didn't take off my breach cloth. I dove in with mine on. I was being eaten alive and the mud worked. The boys laughed and plastered mud on each other, when another mosquito appeared. It was a lot of touching each other.

I wasn't modest. I wasn't afraid of touching the other naked boys. I had something to hide. It ain't like we wasn't almost naked all summer. Under my clothes there was something I needed to hide. This had become a certainty in my mind. It ran no deeper than the white skin that didn't darken like the rest of me did.

I was hiding my white skin. I was dark everywhere else. I didn't want to remind everyone what color I was when I came to the village. As if their memory failed them when they looked at me and saw the nicely browned boy.

It might not remind the Pawnee boys what color I was when I came. It reminded me. I took care to become brown, so they would forget I was white. How could anyone forget the color I tried so hard to hide?

This part of me was still a boy, and the boy in me didn't want to remind the other boys that I was white. It sounds silly now, but it seemed serious then.

I knew the sight of an Indian could send some people into a tizzy. The first thing on their mind is what was on my mind when I saw an Indian boy looking down at me, after I fell off the cliff. My first thought was of being scalped.

I am an Indian. How could I had such a thought? What did Lit'l Fox think?

I didn't not know my people then. I lived in a white world. I reacted the way white people reacted, even though I was Pawnee. I didn't know if the opposite was true when Indians saw white people, but we are all people, prone to strange reactions when coming face to face with an unknown.

Paw never scalped anyone I know of. Why would the worst thing thought about Indians be the first thing that came to my mind when I saw one?

I knew what was under my loin cloth. I did not want to remind my friends that I was white. It's why I kept on my loin cloth until the day of the mosquitoes.

No one plastered me with mud until Running Horse stood so close to me, I could feel him. He plastered my chest and thighs with mud. Everyone was laughing but me, as I watched Running Horse's hand moving ever so slowly to my breach cloth and his fingers dipped below the cloth down to my pisser, plastering mud upon my skin as his hand kept moving to collect more and more mud.

His hand was hot. I was hot. My pisser was hard and hot, and he was feeling it as I watched the hand that excited me to the point of no return.

I could not hold back the enthusiasm he aroused in me, but as I gasped out a release unmatched by anything I did to myself, I saw the other boys who had grown still to watch me come and go at the same time.

Running Horse felt my reaction to his hand squeezing and working me over. I gasped a second time and tried to take a step back to convince everyone I didn't do what I just did, and his hand didn't move off of me.

My brain and my excitement collided as embarrassment shot through me. What had I done? What had all the boys seen me do.

I wanted to move. I never wanted to move. I wanted him to take his hand off my pisser. I never wanted him to let go. My brain was frazzled by what, I didn't know. I couldn't remember my name at the moment.

"You nice," he told me with lips too close to my ears.

Like the rest of him, his pisser was impressive. When he whispered in my ear, he moved it up to my side and let it press against my skin and the mud.

I wanted to touch it. I wanted to scream. I didn't know what I wanted, as his hand moved on my pisser until I was at the brink of another eruption.

I didn't feel like this was the place or time, when any place would do.

His hand gave me a powerful squeeze while I pulsed out more passion. He held me in place when my knees bent. I lost my mind as his arm pulled me into his lovely chest, and I couldn't think straight.

How did mosquitoes lead me into bliss.

Of all the feelings I had, and I confess to not understanding many of them, this was the feeling I loved and would want to revisit without the audience.

I felt overexposed.

My breach cloth was down to my pisser, but mud conveniently covered the white skin, and when Running Horse tried to remove it, I more reacted than reacted to what he wanted.

"No."

He took a step back to look at my face. There was no mud there. He removed his arm from my waist and he retrieved his magic hand.

True to form, Running Horse said nothing. He didn't have much mud on him, because he was attending to me. I watched as he retrieved his breach cloth and walked toward the pond to rinse himself.

Everyone watched him in all his glory, until he disappeared. Then, everyone was looking at me.

What had I done?

The most thrilling moment in my life was now the most awful moment.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"You know what you do. You did I," Lit'l Fox said, going to retrieve his breach cloth.

Everyone followed without saying a word.

I stood alone feeling drained and confused.

I said, "No."

I didn't mean no. I don't know what I meant.

I was embarrassed, because Running Horse touched me in a way no one had ever touched me before. He reached deep inside of me to steal my heart.

I didn't mean, "No."

I needed to undo this.

How was I going to do that?

I had been touched there before by a boy at school, but he touched all the boys there, except for a couple who didn't allow it. Usually this was done in the forest behind the school. Boys being boys, once they were told he would, they took him up on the idea because it was a project boys mostly did themselves. Having someone take over the chore was more than a little appealing.

Jason Wilby wasn't friends with other boys, but other boys did go into the woods with him to allow him to work them into a lather. I made a point of watching their progress. One day I went to the forest with Jason, and there was certainly something to say about his technique.

I did it once to see what it was all about. After that, I watched him work from a distance from time to time. I didn't seek him out because of how he was treated. He might have given boys what they needed, but they had little to do with him except when they went into the forest with him.

Funny thing was, about the time I took to seeing what Jason and the farm boys were up to, those same farm boys were looking at the girls like they hadn't eaten in a while. Before this turn of events, boys kept their distance from girls. Now, they were slobbering over them and acting like fools.

What Running Horse did was far more tantalizing than anything Jason did, and it caught me by surprise. No one else seemed surprised, as they looked on.

The no was final. After a minute Running Horse took his hand off my pisser. The look on his face I can't describe. He seemed hurt by the word, "No."

I would like to say, 'We worked it out,' but we didn't. Running Horse went to the pond, rinsed off, put on his breach cloth and left.

Nothing was said at first. Lit'l Fox was plastering mud on me where he saw mosquitoes land. Nothing I did bothered Lit'l Fox.

This was different. Lit'l Fox didn't leave with the other boys, but he thought of himself as being responsible for me on good and bad days.

"I didn't mean no," I said, trying to make sense of what happened.

"You say no. That mean no here," Lit'l Fox said.

"What do I do?" I asked.

"You do enough already. Do nothing now."

The other boys jostled each other as they left the mud and us behind. Once Running Horse left, the event ended, and they lost interest.

Had the same event taken place while I was alone with Running Horse, the answer wouldn't have been no. Even if I didn't understand what he wanted to do, doing it in front of other boys wasn't what I thought I should do. You weren't supposed to notice other boys' bodies, especially their pissers, even when most boys liked to take a peek, if they thought they could get away with it.

When I allowed Jason to touch me, I made sure no one was watching us. Other boys weren't as careful as I was. They were more anxious to get to where they were going without giving thought to anything else. Getting there was the point, and Jason was just the boy to take them there.

There was a mystery surrounding that particular subject, and someone like Jason was able to tempt boys with the offer of attention to a big problem. It wasn't something we talked about, and a few of the girls left school when they were with child. That seemed to indicate boys were simply going off with Jason.

Mrs. Taylor never once mentioned how many ways there were for boys to get to where they wanted to go concerning sex. Certainly, there was no message to other girls who did attend her class. Each of us needed to find our own way.

I never thought what I let Jason do with my pisser was anything but a way to get where I wanted to go without doing it myself. Jason's presence in school gave boys a way to get it done without risking getting a girl with child as a possible side effect.

I went with Jason once, wanting to see what it was like. Other boys went with him on a regular basis. Their desire for his attention far exceeded mine. I didn't mind what he did. It felt right good, but it lacked intensity beyond what I could get by doing it myself. I knew my timing. Jason could only guess at it.

Jason furnished the mechanics in getting where I wanted to go.

Running Horse gave new meaning to where I thought I was going. Going there in front of others was scary. I wasn't sure of what might happen if he kept touching me the way he was doing it. He had me close to where I wanted to go with a minimum of effort. What Jason lacked, Running Horse had big time, and it was scary how fast I was ready to finish. It came as a surprise and the surprise was enough to allow me to catch my breath and stop me from going, or coming in this case.

I utter one word without meaning to say it, or interrupt what he was doing. It wasn't a no, no. It was more like a no, let me catch my breath.

Now, Running Horse was gone, and he left me high and dry, when I wanted to say, "Yes." What was done was done, and I wondered how I could undo it.

He didn't know I wasn't reacting to where his hand touched me. His hand wasn't the problem. His hand might have been nice to feel there, but he wanted me to expose my white skin. I'd made up my mind. I won't do that, even when the mud was darker than I was.

The look on his face turned cold. The warmth in his eyes for me was gone.

He thought I was objecting to his touch. I loved how he touched me. No didn't cover what I was feeling, or how fast my desire for him came upon me.

I already regretted my adamant, no. I didn't mean no. That wasn't it at all.

I need Running Horse's approval. I wanted Running Horse's approval.

My refusal brought attention to me. What did I have to hide? No one had seen me naked. Medicine Woman saw me naked. Lit'l Fox slept naked under the same buffalo robe I slept naked under, but I put on my breach cloth before I got up, especially if Running Horse was in the lodge. Medicine Woman was Running Horse's grandma too, which made us brothers of sorts, but it was more than that.

Running Horse stared at me like he didn't know me. Who was I? I wanted to slither into the mud. I wanted to take it back. I couldn't take it back. I done my best to get people in the village to forget my whiteness. It sounded stupid now. They all knew what color I was when I got there. No one forgot I was white but me, and my desire to forget about my whiteness became mixed up in my desire for Running Horse, who believed I rejected him in front of the rest of the boys.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"You know. Lit'l Fox know."

"Because I won't get naked?" I asked.

"You hide. Running Horse like. You snap. We know you white, Tall Willow. No one sees white. We know white. Heart Pawnee. Skin not Pawnee."

"I'm sorry."

"No sorry me. Sorry Running Horse. He displeased. Lit'l Fox not displeased. You try hard. You start over. No hide. No say, "No."

"I'm sorry."

"No sorry me. Sorry Running Horse. I just tell you that."

I was sorry. When we went to the pond, no one was there. Our fish remained where they laid when the mosquitoes showed up. Everything was happy and joyful before the mosquitoes came. I hadn't felt alone for a single minute since arriving in the village.

I felt alone now. I wanted Lit'l Fox to tell me what to do.

Lit'l Fox continued to stand by me. We were closer than friends. He didn't correct me. It was up to me to decide what to do. So far, I hadn't offended him.

To say I displeased Running Horse didn't cover it. If I could have slithered into the mud, I'd have done it, but there was no one around to see it. Only Lit'l Fox stuck with me through thick and thin. It had gotten very thin.

Why didn't I just say, "I'm Pawnee."

I was afraid I would look foolish.

I complicated everything far more than it needed to be. These people had welcomed me no matter what I looked like. I felt closer to them than anyone in the valley where the river runs, but I wasn't secure in my Pawnee identity.

I heard the name Proud Eagle spoken in our wigwam. I didn't know who said it. My stupor from the brew I drank didn't encourage logical thinking, but how could I not recognize my father's Pawnee name?

I could have said, "Proud Eagle is my father. Who is he to you? Who is Lit'l Fox to me? Am I your grandson? Is he my brother?"

Then, everything would have been revealed. I didn't know these people then. Sleeping my life away, then, I got up and began to play with the other boys in the village, and I ignored what I heard said in Medicine Woman's lodge.

Why couldn't I just speak up?

I couldn't answer that yet, but I had a lot to think about as I returned to the lodge with Lit'l Fox becoming uncomfortably quiet.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

I would do my best to undo what I did the day before, I decided after not sleeping that night. I was glad to have the friendship of Running Horse. Now that I lost it, I saw the value of his friendship as greatly increased.

I never needed to look for Running Horse, because he would look for me.

I would find a way to get that friendship back.

"What has you so quiet this evening?" Medicine Woman asked.

"Running Horse and Tall Willow had a disagreement," Lit'l Fox explained.

"You and Running Horse? You're like peas in a pod," our guardian said.

"A misunderstanding," I said.

"Boys fall in and out like the wind rises and falls," she said. "You'll make up tomorrow."

I made up my mind to greet Running Horse with a smile, and I would touch him the way he always touched me.

When we went out, no one was there. Running Horse's absence put a crimp in how to win his approval back.

My heart sank. This was going to be harder than I thought. He always met us in the morning. We usually spent our days together. Lit'l Fox did not show any surprise that Running Horse wasn't outside to greet us.

"Why wouldn't he be here to greet you? You're his friend."

"Running Horse not come greet me. He come to greet you. He like Tall Willow."

"He hardly knew I was alive when I came."

"He know. He fear you. He like. You white. He like white. You different."

I began laughing.

This was all about my white skin. He wasn't put off by me. He was drawn to me because I was different. I've done all within my power to hide what it was that drew Running Horse to me. It was funny if not for what happened the day before. We both were searching for a way to be closer, when I said, "No."

Why was life so complicated? Why didn't he say, "Me like white skin."

Why didn't I say, "I am Pawnee."

"He thinks I'm angry with him. He took the no as a comment on how I felt about him. Can't you tell him my no was about where he wanted to touch me?"

"It all about where he wants to touch Tall Willow?"

"Not where on me where. Where, as in front of the other boys where."

"You think I understand what you just said? No wonder he's confused."

"I don't know how to make it clearer," I said.

"Lit'l Fox no know. I not see. Lit'l Fox with you. Running Horse is lonely. He will be chief. He different too. You different. He like."

"What do I do?"

It was Lit'l Fox who laughed now.