But when he walked through... «The Pale-Faced Lie»
cat_on_the_shelf22 января 2022But when he walked through the door, Mr. Kontz barely said hello before telling me to follow him outside. In their small backyard, he pulled up two plastic chairs in the dirt. “Sit down and listen,” he said, his dark eyes fierce.
My chest tightened as I sat across from him.
“What you doing here?” he said. “It okay for you to visit. Work the summer. But you still here. Why? You don’t belong here. What you do without education?”
“This is home for me.”
“No, is not. Never was. You want to be laborer rest of your life like kids who stay on reservation? They Navajo. They live the way of their fathers, near where umbilical cords are buried. That not for you.”
“Mr. Kontz, I—”
He waved a hand in my face. “Go back to your people. You not Navajo.”
“But we’re Cherokee.”
He scoffed. “That is lie. You not Cherokee. Your father not Cherokee. He lies. You know that.”
I shook my head. What was he saying? “We are Cherokee, and this is my home.”
“No, David, you Anglo. Fort Defiance not your home. Gallup not your home either. I didn’t understood why you try come back in high school. You afraid of your father, afraid of who you are. Face your fear.”
I turned away, my head spinning. Mr. Kontz must have been telling the truth. Honesty meant everything to him. He was brutal to anyone he caught in a lie.
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