In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

33 The Bush Dance It’s Lent on the rez. My cousins gave up chocolate in Jesus’ name. They pretend to faint as I eat their leftover Valentine stash. So many taboos; not supposed to dance, legs will turn to wood, can’t eat meat on Friday, play the fiddle or cards. A cousin tells of a recent rugaroo sighting. The rugaroo, a black dog with red eyes, or a white stallion, shape shifts into a man at night and has a habit of hanging around the rez during Lent. Changing back to beast before the sun’s rays strike, he risks a fiery explosion if he lingers too long. He was seen dashing through the casino parking lot, caught on the lone surveillance camera. One night I walked backwards around my cousin’s house at midnight holding an Ace of Spades to my forehead and met the devil. I invited him to the bush dance. Taw-pway, he said, yes. So we danced the Red River Jig and Whiskey at Midnight, got drunk on jugs of chokecherry wine, jigged until our legs turned to wood, and the rugaroo my cousin was dancing with said I gotta get the hell out of here before I burst into flames and the devil smiled. The priest came and busted up the fiddle, so I went home and played solitaire, the Ace of Spades in the devil’s pocket. ...

Share