This Is Our Life

By Bill Joseph

To look at any random person walking across the street you'd never know about the squalor of there past, the love and loss and everything in between.
This is a story in three parts of people you might know or know of but at last you can hear there story of life on The Colville Indian Reservation and the Okanogan County.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Joseph
• Release date: Nov 30, 2009
• ISBN: 9781476128955

Bill Joseph

47 year old Native American from the Colville Indian Reservation in North Central Washington State.I write about life as a Native American and a resident of Okanogan County.I don't take long moonlit walks along the beach, but I write about it.

Book preview

I think I should have loved you presently,

And given in earnest words I flung in jest;

And lifted honest eyes for you to see,

And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;

And all my pretty follies flung aside

That won you to me, and beneath your gaze,

Naked of reticence and shorn of pride,

Spread like a chart my little wicked ways.

I, that had been to you, had you remained,

But one more waking from a recurrent dream,

Cherish no less the certain stakes I gained,

And walk your memory’s halls, austere, supreme,

A ghost in marble of a girl you knew

Who would have loved you in a day or two.

Edna St.Vincent Millay

This Is Our Life

A Novella

Thanks to Sarah, Diane and Leslie

By William Joseph Jr.

Written during the Hundred Years War

Copyright 2009 William Joseph Jr.

Published by Smashwords

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Andrea stands at the window. She doesn’t move but it looks like she does. Andrea is the type of person that would throw herself onto the ground upon realization that the world is spinning way too fast and out of control. I listen to her every word.

The sun is warming the air but the clouds hold onto the sky. Today the wind showed up coming from the northwest. It tried to push me over but I wouldn't let it. I tried to be strong and it was easier than I’d anticipated. I may have done this before.

My boyfriend told me about his childhood. The entire family gathered at his grandparents. His grandmother, and the other women, cooked big meals of deer meat stew and fried bread. Men sat about in circles and the oldest were first to be heard. Children played wildly outside. The mulch scent of apple orchards was strong and probably the most memorable smell of his life.

I would like to have been there, Sarah. Any other life would be better than mine but his would be best.

Sarah, I’m pregnant with his child.

This is the time of life when we have to remember everything. Which way the wind was blowing? Was it a hot day? I must remember the song that was playing on the radio. A teenager’s life is packed with frivolity but it all ends now. Someone, one of our own, has grown up too soon. Someone has left the pack and needs our help.

Andrea has asked me to bring her to Wenatchee to get an abortion. What am I going to do? I can see my father sitting in his study. Was it yesterday when I walked in on him? He was crying and I asked him why.

He read aloud from the Gospel of St. John the first few verses of Chapter 14, Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in god, believe also in me. In my father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. My father was full of joy and thankful for his faith. I shattered the moment by telling him about Andrea. We talked it over and we were to sleep on it and discuss it all, tomorrow.

Drive the Columbia

The Sun rises hot above the Okanogan. It is difficult to hide in the shadows of the Indian summer mid-day. If someone passing by the St. Anne’s Episcopal Church could hear the conversation within they’d feel the anguish of a family conversation. A father and daughter about to take lead roles in an epic play.

Sarah frets with her blouse and avoids her father's eyes.

Tell me about this girl, he says more sternly than he has ever spoken before.

I'm her only friend.

Is that why she asked you to drive her to Wenatchee to get an abortion?

Dad, please - -

From across his office desk he reaches for Sarah's hand. She feels like a delicate bouquet of flowers. I'm sorry - - I never thought I’d hear my daughter ask me such a question. It's too much for a high school girl to bear.

That's why I came to you for advice.

Please, tell me more about her. Please and I’m sorry sound of something precious like Christ saying in a still soft voice: you’re forgiven. Sarah feels comforted sharing with her father.

Her name is Andrea. If she had friends, they’d call her Andi. Sometimes I call her Ann, because it sounds more intimate. Her grandmother calls her Andrea and at times, I do too. She is an - - outsider and clings to me for help.

Her father's eyes soften. And?

The other day when I got to school everyone saw Andrea walk through the front door. She was dressed in funny clothing like, a hippie. Her hair was parted down the middle and one side of her hair was in thin little braids, Sarah explains with delicate hand gestures. The other side was combed straight and kind of oily. On the same side, her face was painted all black. And the other side was painted white. Kind of like what - -

Mimes use?

Right. She looked like what I imagine a ghost would look.

This must have caused quite an uproar.

Dad, the principal made her go home. Andrea was trying to express herself, and the principal made her go home and not come back until she dressed normal. She said using hand-quotes. So, what do I do?"

Who is the young man that is responsible?

I don't know his name. He's older and in the Marine Corps, he was just shipped out to Vietnam. And I think he's an Indian.

From the Colville Reservation across the river?

I think so. You see, Indians don't believe in birth control so her boyfriend would never approve of an abortion. Children are a gift. But if he's off to war-

A deep and hopeless sigh flares from his nostrils. He sits back and adjusts his glasses. Sarah waits patiently.

Do you want to take her? He asks.

I don't want to take her. Yet, I can't turn her away. She's in trouble, Dad, I have to do it.

Her father stands and leads his daughter out of the office strolling into the sanctuary, between the pews.

"If