My right achilles was hurting about mid way up. The left knee was killing me at the inner meniscus. I stretched a long time. I was alone. Or I thought I was alone. There behind me stretching silently was Chief Guyasuta.
“Me Big Chief! Me Hawk a Loogey! Me Knock a Homa! So the cat’s out of the bag. Everyone at the Writers Workshop knows that you’ve been writing about them with thinly disguised fake personas. You’ve made me out to be a gay Indian who talks like a redskin from a racist 1950’s Western.”
I was trying to loosen the knee.
“But you are a so-called Native American and you are gay!”
“Bill the Butcher was a goddamned ‘Native American’ I’m a goddamned American Indian goddamnit! Let me adjust my moccasins.”
“That’s a Reebok, Chief.”
“OK, so I lied, but they are all pissed, they’ve seen the blog. At first they all claimed that none of them have ever made love with the Botendaddy. But the Boleans ratted them out. My god you’ve f&$ked everyone in the Writers Workshop!”
We ran the first mile on the trail in 9 flat. The second mile at 19:23 and the third mile under 30:00.
“The MapMyRun App ‘paused’ again unexpectedly. But maybe they are like United and they will never fix it, Chief.”
“No, me know well after many moons that United, great bird in sky sucks anus of the great goat!”
“Why yes, Chief, the United Airlines corporation as an entity, metaphorically sucks extreme goat anus.”
“What’s the most scared you’ve ever been Botendaddy?”
“I lost my daughter in a huge crowd at a giant public park. Over a hundred thousand people were there. I was in a full blown panic. But she was smarter than I was and when she saw we weren’t with her, she came walking back to where she last saw us. I recognized her by the jet-black hair. I’ve been in two wars. I’ve lived in rough neighborhoods but I’ve never been that scared.”
“Ugh life is good, good thing you not lose Boten-Daughter, she fine young woman, let’s stop at 3.75 miles I can not stand to see you run in that massive del.ic.io.us adult diaper.”
Peace be the Botendaddy