In January, 2021, The Los Angeles Times chose Geronimo, Life on the Reservation as one of its Nineteen Culture Picks. My novel, Geronimo’s Laptop, is a companion piece to this play.
Geronimo’s Laptop, historical fantasy/humor/ novel
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Buy now on Amazon. Paperback. Suitable for most.Rosa’s Rattlesnake Resort
Rosa’s Rattlesnake Resort
Janelle Meraz Hooper
This is a true story. Not all of my “adventures” with my dad happened in Oklahoma. Some of them were in Texas and other places. This story was supposed to be in As Brown As I Want, The Indianhead Diaries, but I thought three murder attempts in the book were enough to make my point, so I cut it out. As Brown As I Want was a finalist in the 2004 Oklahoma Book Awards.
I was the perfect kid to grow up in Oklahoma. From childhood, I’d entertained myself by watching the bugs, spiders, and other interesting insects in my dad’s backyard. I was never bored.
Dad never noticed the critters in his grass and trees. All he cared about was his chickens, ducks, and rabbits. He kept the chickens in the hen house, everything else he kept in wire cages. Those were for us to eat, so I couldn’t play with them. I hated the chickens, especially the rooster. At seven years old, it was my job to collect the eggs every morning and the rooster would fly at my face with his claws aimed right for my face and screech like some Japanese warrior. The hens were on my bad side too, because, every night, they flew over the wire fence and slept on the branches of our peach trees. Well, I liked peaches, but even I wouldn’t eat a poopy peach.
His backyard sat over an underground water reservoir that we drew our garden water from. He told me that the fish down there didn’t have eyes. Didn’t need them, he said, because it was dark all the time underground. I wanted to fish in that well and try to catch one of them but Dad wouldn’t let me. I think he was a little bit afraid I might catch one and who knows? Maybe they had teeth! Or, maybe, he was afraid I’d fall in and pollute his garden water. I’ll never know.
Luckily, we had relatives in Benavides, Texas. I had a big surprise when we visited my stepmother’s mother there. Her backyard was all sand and cacti! How great was that? That’s where the fun was. The last time we visited there, Sarah’s mother was sick and confined to bed. Dad and Sarah were having a big argument about what to do with her, so they threw me out in the backyard to play. I didn’t mind a bit that it was really hot outside because it was hotter inside. My dad was yelling a lot and the little one-room house’s walls were shaking from his anger.
At first, I thought there was nothing to do out there because there wasn’t even a place to sit. No chairs or nothing and the sand was almost hot enough to burn my feet through my sandals. The whole backyard was fence-to-fence cacti. Big ones. To pass the time, I picked up some small rocks and tossed them into the cacti that were so crowded I couldn’t see in between the plants.
From the first rock I threw, I thought I was the luckiest girl I knew. Every time I threw a rock, I’d hear the rattle of rattlesnakes. It was like they had their own little resort in that backyard. I picked up handfuls of small rocks and moved all around the edge of the yard and every time I tossed one of them into the cactus, I heard rattles! I wanted to see one so bad and I figured that if I made them mad enough, eventually one of them would come out.
But no luck. After a while, I turned my attention to the house, which was propped up on cinder blocks. All kinds of garbage were stuffed under there that they didn’t want anymore. Things like rusty barbed wire, old buckets with holes in them, and old wooden fence posts that were too rotten to use.
And then I found a real treasure: there among all of that junk was a perfect skeleton of a frog. All bones, and no skin at all. He was sitting on the sand like nothing was wrong—he was just enjoying the landscape. I figured maybe one of those snakes bit him and he died on the spot. I was just getting ready to find something to put him in so I could take him home when the yelling and crying inside the house got worse. It sounded like Dad was on one side of the hospital bed and Sarah was on the other. In the middle was Sarah’s mother, Rosa.
Dad was yelling that no way he was going to take that old Mexican home to live with them. “She don’t even speak English,” he scoffed. Sarah was yelling that she was her mother and she wanted to take her home to live with them…forever!
I decided I’d better get away from there quick and come back to pick up the frog before we left. I wandered around and found a little grocery store down the street where the man who owned it didn’t speak English but I didn’t even have enough money to buy a pop to drink so it didn’t matter. I hadn’t eaten all day but it was too hot to eat anyway. What I really wanted was one of those tall, frosted glass candles with a picture of the Virgin Mary on the front. I thought it would look nice in the rattlesnake resort. One was lit up and it looked real pretty. The grocer had boxes of them. Maybe his customers lost their power a lot?
After a while, I decided I’d better get back before they missed me and I’d be in as much trouble as Sarah’s mom. I was just in time. They had just started to look for me. I guess the argument was settled. Sarah was crying and Dad was opening the car doors to let some cool air into the car. It was obvious Rosa was not going back to Oklahoma with us. He was still mad as heck even though he’d won the argument.
I knew better than to keep Dad waiting. I dove into the backseat so fast I forgot my frog skeleton. I didn’t remember it until we were out of town. I didn’t dare ask Dad to take me back so I could get it. I told myself that maybe it would still be there if we ever went back. ‘Course we never did. I guess Dad had worn out his welcome there for good.
After we got back to Lawton, I never heard another word about Sarah’s mother. Not a word. It was just like Benavides, Texas—and Rosa—never existed.
The end
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Photo: At the beach, no makeup, no hair dryer, no sunscreen.
HEAVEN!
Halloween-Sanyo and Hatchet
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Sanyo was warned not to make eye contact with the big black jungle crows that roamed the streets of downtown Tokyo…
They were not ordinary crows, but huge birds with wingspans of over three feet that flew in large intimidating gangs, tipped over garbage cans, and viciously attacked people they didn’t like who made direct eye contact with them. Hostile and vindictive, the mean-tempered birds were said to never forget a face.
Sanyo, six years old, didn’t believe the warnings. They were just birds. From her upstairs bedroom window on the top floor of a deluxe, high-rise condominium, she watched them as they cawed and chased passersby on the busy Tokyo street below. She didn’t think the birds were dangerous, just bad-mannered.
One day, Neko, Sanyo’s nanny, put a tray of tea and cookies on Sanyo’s play table and softly closed the door behind her. The young girl had dressed herself in her best ceremonial kimono, hoping to have tea with her mother. Sadly, she realized she’d again have afternoon tea alone in her bedroom; her mother was still at the office.
As she had so many times before, Sanyo lined up all of her beautiful dolls at her tea table and poured tea into tiny china cups. She would have tea with her friends. Her only friends. Neko wouldn’t let her play with the other children in the condominium. It was easier to just keep her in her room.
The child was uneasy and looked up to see one of the crows on her windowsill. Surprised at how large the bird looked close-up, she forgot the warnings from her parents and made direct eye contact with him. The bird stared back. Sanyo thought he must want the cookie, so she opened the window just wide enough to stick it out. The crow rudely yanked the snack out of her hand and swallowed it whole, then forced his way into her room.
Sanyo called out for Neko, but her calls were unanswered. Angry and jealous that Sanyo had so many beautiful things, he flew right for her beloved dolls. With methodical hatefulness, he marched over their laps and plucked the eyes from each one. Each time he moved to a new doll, he looked back at the stunned child who stood paralyzed with fear on the other side of the room. When there were no eyes left to pluck, the crow made a swing past Sanyo’s face and stabbed his hatchet beak toward her eyes. It was a warning: Sanyo had better not ever cross him.
He departed through the still open window with a string of caws that ricocheted between the buildings and shot down the street. The other crows answered his call, and soon the sky was black with the crow and its friends.
Sanyo ran to her dolls, but there was nothing to be done. The bird’s beak had crushed each eyeball into powder. The next day, Hatchet, as Sanyo had begun to call him, was back on the windowsill. The youngster, alone again, turned her back to him as she served tea to her dolls and nervously ate her cookie. The crow became more and more angry and threatening as he cawed.
Sanyo was too terrified to look at the bird. As Hatchet repeatedly stabbed at the glass with his giant bill, she quietly served her sightless dolls another cup of tea. To make sure the crow never got into the house again, Sanyo got up before the sun rose each day and rushed around the house to make sure all of the windows were shut tight and locked.
She was on her own; both of her parents worked, and they were tired when they got home at night. She knew they’d have no patience to listen to her story about Hatchet. Her nanny, who was also the cook, kept to her kitchen most of the time. She had scant interest in Sanyo when she was happy. She’d have even less interest in Sanyo if she had a problem.
Then, one day, Sanyo had to go downstairs for her cookies and tea. Neko halfheartedly apologized for not bringing it up to her and said she was busy making a special meal for her parents who had been working very hard. The table was so heavily laden with platters full of all kinds of noodles, rice dishes, sushi, intricately cut vegetables, and exotic fruits that Sanyo couldn’t see the countertop.
Too late, she noticed a high window above the cabinets whose curtains blew in the breeze. Neko had opened the window! Sanyo ran for the long crank that was used to shut it, but she was too late. Hatchet flew in with a loud caw and landed on the kitchen counter right on top of the platter of fancy sushi.
Neko dropped her knife, screamed, and ran from the kitchen with her arms flailing. She never so much as looked back at Sanyo, who sat frozen with fear in her chair. As the crow stomped over the elaborate dishes with his grimy, gnarled feet, he never took his eyes off Sanyo’s cookie.
Sanyo was so frightened she lost her grip on the treat and it rolled over to the edge of the big double sink and fell in. Caught up in the chase, the crow flew after it, his big black claws slid around on the shiny sink interior as he tried in vain to catch the rolling cookie. Hatchet didn’t stop his pursuit when the cookie spun and slid into the garbage disposal. He barely paused before he stretched out his long neck and went right into the disposal after it.
Sanyo saw her chance. With lightning speed, she reached over and flipped on the switch to the appliance. Her eyes widened when she heard one surprised shriek as the blades ground the crow’s beak into a fine powder, not unlike her dolls’ eyes. When the giant bird was finally able to withdraw his body and flap headless around the kitchen, he spewed blood, guts, and loose feathers all over Neko’s special dinner.
Sanyo was about to hop down from her chair and run to her room when something in the sink caught her eye. There among the blood and feathers was an egg that Hatchet had carried. She was a mother! She nudged the egg into the disposal with a wooden spoon and once again, flipped the switch on the wall. Now she would never have to fear another Hatchet. It was over.
Still stunned, she turned her back on the mess and calmly went upstairs; she left her cowardly nanny to clean up the bloody feathers and bones. Halfway up the stairs, the shock began to wear off, and a suddenly confident Sanyo went to her room to pack up her dolls in a cardboard box. Her parents would surely buy her new ones—and get her a new nanny.
When she opened the door to her room she was met with seven pairs of black eyes that stared at her from her windowsill. Eyes filled with pure hate. A cold chill ran down her back as she realized they knew.
Knew about Hatchet.
Knew about the disposal.
Knew about the egg.
By their stares, she could tell that they wouldn’t rest until they got even. Sadly, Sanyo realized it was not over after all. That night, she lay sleepless in her bed and shivered with terror as she listened to the crows as they ripped through the shingles on the roof above her room. Rrrr-ip, rrr-rip, rrr-ip…not the end
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
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My thanks, Janelle
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My first Halloween costume, 1948
Boot Scootin’ Weekend
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Boot Scootin’ Weekend
Janelle Meraz Hooper
This is a companion piece to my novel: A One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet…
Weekends off for the three cowboys were rare. This time, as usual, they headed for a nearby Idaho town that had everything necessary for two days off from herding cattle: an affordable motel for resting with an attached restaurant, and a nearby tavern that has western music and boot scootin’ line dancing with plenty of cold beer.
The next morning, the three cowboys strolled into the restaurant and waved to Louise, their waitress. “Hey. Louise,” Tom said to the waitress that he’s known for years. “You goin’ boot-scootin’ tonight?”
Louise laughed, “No, I’m afraid all of my boot-scootin’ friends are on Boot Hill.”
The men, after a night of line dancing and flirting with the pretty girls at the Western Tavern down the street, order eggs and elk sausage the restaurant is known for. As they wash it down with their long-necked bottles of beer they shake their heads. Through the large plate glass window, they watch Drake’s beautiful sister out in the parking lot flirting with some cowboy she’s never seen before.
“What am I going to do with Tina?” Drake worries. “She’s just eighteen—too young to be acting like that. Dad would have a fit if he were here.”
“Maybe, we should leave her home next time,” Don says, “We like her, Drake, but weekends with her are turning into full-time babysitting jobs.”
“I’d like to, but she’d raise such a fuss that we’d end up having to tell dad about her flirting, then she’d never forgive me.”
Roger looked at her cooling breakfast, “Well, her eggs are getting cold. I’m going to eat them, and she can order more when she comes in.”
“Where are they going?” Drake says as he scoots back his chair and heads for the parking lot. He is alarmed, at how fast the stranger has talked his sister into following him toward his car. The other two men jump up and follow the distraught brother.
Charging across the parking lot, Drake shouts, “Tina! Your eggs are getting cold.” Reaching the young woman in time to grab her arm, he says, “What are you doing?”
“We’re just talking,” the young woman says as she turns to her brother. “Go back and eat your breakfast. Clint has new puppies in his car. I want to see them.”
“Oh, yeah? We’ll both look. What kind are they?” he asks the stranger who is starting to panic. By now, the other two men who had been eating breakfast with Drake walk up, dangling their beer bottles loosely from their hands. “What’s up?” Roger asks.
“Uh, I’m late, I have to go,” the man says as he turns to rush toward his car. He panics when he looks over his shoulder and sees three angry men following him.
“Oh, no! You can’t go until we see the puppies. What kind did you say they were?” Drake asks.
“Snickerdoodles,” Tina says. I’ll bet they’re cute.”
By now, the stranger in the parking lot is beginning to sweat. The men look through the car windows and see nothing but empty fast-food wrappers in the backseat. “So, where are they? In the trunk?”
“I completely forgot. I left them at home today,” he say as he races to the driver’s side of his car.
“Not so fast. I think you owe this little, underaged girl an explanation,” Tina’s brother says.
“I’m, sorry, I thought you were a lot older…” the man stammers.
Reality is finally dawning on the young woman, and she says nothing as the three men take turns tossing him against his car a few times before he tears himself away, dives for the front seat of his car, and races off.
Drake is much too shaken to scold his sister. All he can say is, “Tina, your breakfast is getting cold. We’ll talk about this later.”
Embarrassed and ashamed, Tina hugs each man but before she can thank them, the tears and sobs catch up with her. Inside the restaurant, a waitress brings Tina a cup of coffee and murmurs, “Let me know when you’re ready to eat,” then hastily retreats before the fireworks start.
As she is walking away. Drake calls her back to order three more beers and breakfast to go for Tina. Then he looks at his friends, and motions that they need to go back to their rooms. Terror surfaces on his expression now that the danger is over.
As soon as the beers and Tina’s breakfast arrive, the three cowboys quickly throw some bills on the table, grab the bottles, and head for their rooms, pushing Drake’s sister in front of them.
“I thought he was just a cowboy like you guys,” she says softly.
“Just because a man is wearing a big belt buckle, doesn’t mean he’s a cowboy, Tina,” Drake says, his voice shaking. “Didn’t you at least notice his boots? They were construction boots!”
Just then, a sheriff’s car pulls up to the restaurant door.
“I completely forgot!” the waitress apologizes as she runs over to the group, I called 911 when I saw that man put his arm on your sister. I guess it was just a mom’s reaction.”
“That was a good idea, thanks, Louise,” Drake says.
The sheriff comes in the door of the empty restaurant and heads straight for the sobbing young woman.
He introduces himself and asks what happened. All of the questions were routine with routine answers until the sheriff asks Tina if she’s ever seen the man before.
“A couple of times,” she admits. The three cowboys at the table choke on their beer.
“Where? When?” Drake demands to know.
“Well,” Tina says, the first time was at the Boot-Scootin’ Tavern when we were dancing last night. He was watching me. He asked me to go outside with him so he could get a smoke, but I was having too much fun dancing to leave. The second time was this morning.” Surprised, she says, “He was hanging around my door. I didn’t think anything about it, and I knew you guys were waiting for me, so I was in a hurry.”
“What happened then?” the sheriff asks.
“He followed me and then started telling me about his cute little snickerdoodle puppies that he had in his car…” she looked at her brother with shock, “Drake, I don’t know how he did it, but before I knew it, he had me outside and we were headed for his car. I don’t even know when he grabbed my arm. It all happened so fast, and I was just so interested in seeing the puppies.”
The sheriff’s CB pings, and he motions for everyone to be quiet.
Embarrassed, Tina whispers to her brother, “What’s the big deal? Men flirt with women all the time. No one ever calls 911!”
“Folks, I’m sorry but I have to ask you all to come down to the station and fill out a formal report. My deputy picked up that guy racing out of town. When he pulled him over, he brought up his license plate and discovered they were looking for him in two other states. The reports gave him a legal right to search the car. Inside the trunk, they found duct tape, rope, and handcuffs. He also found some rags that look like they might have blood on them.”
As she buries her face in her brother’s shoulder Tina looks at Drake and begs, “When this is over, can we go home? She looks at the other two men and pleads, “Do you mind?”
Roger looks at Tina and says, “Tina, we can be saddled up and ready to boot-scoot out of here before you can pack your make-up.” Tom nods his agreement, “The sooner this weekend is over, the better.”
Note: Sex trafficking is up all over the nation. From cities to reservations, young women are disappearing. Teach your young adults to be aware of who and what’s around them wherever they are.
Man Buns and Mom’s Meatloaf
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Due to an editing error on my Kindle re-submission, I have wiped out my reviews for this Kindle book. It’s a good read, I promise! If you read the book and like it, please write a few lines on my Amazon book page under comments. It just takes a few minutes and it will help me build my readership. Thanks so much!
Another snippet of one of the characters who is in my newest novel, A One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet.
This is an unusual novel subject for me, but the incidences of human trafficking are escalating in this country. Kindle/sex-trafficking/ humor/ romance/ FBI/Seattle/Tombstone, Az
What is the same about this novel is my light hand at approaching this difficult subject. Much like my novel, The Slum Resort which is about impoverished senior citizens, my One-way Cruise to Africa, Terror on the Internet novel addresses the subject with humor and taste. NO explicit sex or drug scenes are in my “Cruise” novel! Buy on Amazon Kindle.
Meatloaf photo credit: Microsoft
Signing programs after our Geronimo, Life on the Reservation
at the Wyatt McCrea Ranch.