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The Hotel Bella Muerte: The Residential School Part 2

We sat in complete silence as Nathaniel recounted his story. As he did so, we saw that he had become graven and his facial features older than his years. He would pause every now and then, to take a deep breath or sit still for a time. The story weighed heavy on him and it took all his strength to tell certain parts. At whiles, tears would well up in his eyes and his voice grow thick and raspy. Now as he came to the part of his story where he would tell of him and his brother David’s escape he lifted his head up and looked around the room, as if he had forgotten we were even there, and with a deep sigh, continued on.


“It was the night of the 13th of June, a little more than 9 years since we were first brought to the school in the spring. I still remembered much of my people and my culture since I had been the eldest of the three of us when the school first started to warp our minds and hearts. I knew where we grew up, but had no idea where exactly the school was or how far it was from home. Poor David, since he had been only 5 when we were stolen, had forgotten much and was broken inside from the years of torment and abuse at the hands of those who claimed to do “God’s work.” He neither cared whether he lived or died, or if he got out of that place or not, but I did and I wanted to spare us the remainder of our sentence.

So it was on that night, after lights out, that I crept from my bed as silently as I could and made my way over to David. He was on the opposite side of the dormitory, sound asleep in his bed. I gently woke him up and told him that now was our hour. He was reluctant at first, the fear of being caught ever presided over his thoughts and mind, but at last he got up and we made our way towards the door. We didn’t bother to change clothes and only stopped to grab a satchel I had been hiding in the grates and springs of my mattress away from prying eyes. The satchel held a map I had stolen from the library, a knife and a few cans of food stolen from the kitchen, a change of clothes that were taken from the box that they put the newcomer’s old clothes in before giving them their uniforms, and all personal belongings, few as they were.


Thankfully it was a Saturday night, the night that most of the priests were either in bed or preparing things for Mass in the church halls the next morning, and for that reason the halls were completely clear. We tiptoed through the halls holding our breaths and down the great staircase, the boards creaking under our feet. Every sound seemed magnified, ready to give us away in the otherwise silent building. It felt like each step was a mile and we would never reach the back door but soon we did. The door groaned as it opened and we looked around sharply hoping no one had heard since the church hall was not far away. Once assured that no one had, we quickly passed the threshold and quietly as possible shut the door behind us.


Now out in the dark, warm, summer night we breathed our first true breath of air. We went from the door we had just exited to the various outbuildings in short spurts, crouching and hiding behind each one so as not to be seen from any of the windows. The half moon was the only light by which we traveled the distance from the school to the wooded areas of the school yard. Once we accomplished this task we felt much more at ease, the woods covering and shielding us. We still walked with haste because we didn’t know how long it would take for us to be discovered missing and we wanted to be as far away as possible before they did. So onwards we walked at a trot till we came to the large stone fence at the back of the property.


The fence was high, probably about ten to twelve feet up. Made of red and brown brick it stood before us, taunting us. Thankfully it was and older fence and weathered, chips and pieces missing from its walls, perfect footholds for climbing. I slung the satchel I had over the wall and with a thump we heard it land. I made sure that my brother climbed over first since he was a slower climber and I wanted to make sure he was safe first. I followed suit after him. Once to the top we made sure to avoid the iron spikes at the top. As we descended my shirt caught on one of the spikes and ripped but I made sure to grab the piece of fabric that had torn off. I didn’t want them to have anything to give to the dogs to smell us out.


Once on the ground we both looked at each other with wonder and joy in our hearts and for the first time in a long time I saw a light in my brother’s eyes and a true, genuine smile on his face. We were at long last free and for the only time since we had come to the school, we embraced in a long hug that never seemed to end. We had gotten further than most but we still had a long way to go. We quickly scooped up the satchel and changed clothes, packing the pajamas in the bag not daring to leave them behind, and headed on our way. We started at a walk, which turned into a jog, which ended in a run. With each step we took away from the school we felt more free and lighthearted, though, we never forgot our present danger. We still had a long way to go before we could stop for a rest.

We must have run for miles, our hearts beating wildly and our feet never tiring from the adrenaline that flowed through our bodies. Finally we came to a great river. I took out the map from my pack, and tried to figure out where exactly we were. I knew from letters and mail that had been brought to the school that we were somewhere in Arizona, a small town not far from the river where we now stood, far away from home. According to the map, as I read it, we would have to cross the fast, flowing stream in order to get to the path I had charted for us to take. The only problem with this plan was that neither of us knew how to swim. Both of us were afraid to take the leap, but we needed all the time we could to get away before they came looking for us. Now that we had our taste of freedom, neither of us wanted to return. So holding hands we carefully waded into the cool water.


The water was almost cold compared to the hot summer night. We knew we needed to get across as fast as we could to prevent us from getting hypothermia. As we get deeper and deeper into the water and closer and closer to the middle we both began to struggle. The water was deeper than I thought it would be and it flowed at a rate that was too fast for us to tred. Soon we were caught up in its powerful current. We tried to continue to hold hands so we would not get separated from each other but it soon became apparent we would need both our arms and legs to stay afloat. The current swept us away and we weren’t strong enough swimmers to make it to the other side. Utterly helpless, we merely kept our heads above water. Four times I lost sight of my brother as he sunk down in the water and came back up sputtering and coughing. I don’t know how long the stream claimed us, or how far we traveled, but at long last, tired, sore, and soaking wet we came to a more shallow part of the river. I was just tall enough for my toes to reach the riverbed. I dug them in and slowly but surely was able to make it to shore. I crawled in the sand and silt and flopped onto my back. I looked up, though, only to see my brother, who was not as tall as I was, still being carried downstream. I quickly got up and ran alongside the stream, yelling at him to stay afloat and use his arms to swim best as he could to where he could once again stand. I watched him lose his strength and the water began to weigh him down till I could no longer see the top of his head. Scared for my brother’s life I somehow found the strength to jump back in and in the torrents of the current I found him sinking beneath the flow. I tugged, kicked, and swam as hard as I could till I found traction on the bottom once again and bringing his limp body to the sandy shore, I laid him down. He wasn’t breathing and his heartbeat was gone. In my utter distress I began to cry out to the wilderness. I had lost my sister and couldn’t save her and now my brother was gone as well. In my grief I beat on my chest and I prayed to God and my ancestors, asking why these things had come to pass. I shook my brother harshly, and hit him, asking him why he didn’t try harder. The tears streamed down my face as I did so and my voice broke. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he and my sister should suffer so much torment and abuse. It wasn’t fair that they went on before me. It wasn’t the natural order of things. Then suddenly, as if God and those who had passed before us heard my prayer, David began to move and cough and choke on the water he had swallowed. In my amazement and shocked state I grabbed him and turned him over onto his stomach, beating his back to help him vomit up the water that was keeping him from taking a breath. Soon he got it all up and took a sharp and hitching breath in. Once I knew he would be ok. We both lay motionless and quiet on the riverside.


After resting for a bit, we sat up and together we began to cry. We had both been through so much and it seemed as if the trials would never end. Our tears fell freely and we comforted each other, there in the wild and uninhabited lands, and at last we began to talk, no longer afraid to say the things we needed to say to each other. We talked long and told much to each other of what had happened to us during our separation at the beginning. That was when I found out what those horrible men had done to my brother and my heart broke for him. Again I thought, why not me? Why couldn’t I have taken on his hurts and bear them for him? But to each of us is given a road to travel and hardships to overcome, and it isn’t always for us to know or understand why the things that happen to us happen, it is only for us to learn and grow from them, and become better, stronger, and more understanding people because of them. I had my burdens to bear and so did he. That night we vowed to go on to live the best, most fulfilling life we could, helping those that came into our lives and give to them the knowledge and understanding that would in turn help them. We kept our promise and though it has oftentimes been difficult, we have always done what we could.


Once we felt strong enough again, we stood and noticed that dawn was upon us. The first rays of the sun lighting up the sky and bringing us hope for our futures. We looked around and though we didn’t know where we were, our map now soaking wet and our satchel gone, now belonging to the river, we decided to follow the river for a while, thinking surely it would bring us to a town or to some place where we could find help and resources to continue our journey home. Just as we thought, we came upon a town about mid day and waited till dark to leave the forest and walk into town. I am ashamed to say we waited till around midnight when the town was completely dark and quiet to break into the store in town and stole many goods, but we had no money and couldn’t risk getting caught by people who might recognize us or give us up. Now fully prepared and armed with a new map and knowledge of where we were, we came to follow the railroad tracks that wound through town and followed them as far as they went in the direction we were headed.


I’ll spare you the mundane details of the rest of our journey for it took us many, many days to find our way home and nothing of great importance happened on our way there. As it turned out, getting lost in and carried away by the river may have been the best thing that could have happened to us. It washed away our scents and left no trace of us for the police dogs to follow. So they never found us. They had no way of knowing where we were and they dared not look too hard for us lest we bring trouble to them or expose them and the school for what they were. We had simply become two of the boys that had simply just disappeared, and that suited us just fine.


It was several weeks later when we came at last to our old home. We walked up familiar paths and roads that wound around and flowed with the land rather that the manmade ones we had been following for miles that cut through mountains and valleys in ways that were never intended for them to go. Then finally, the day came when we could see off in the distance our old family home with its red roof and wooden trim. From a distance our family had spotted two figures coming from far away and stood to greet whoever they were. When we reached the steps that led to the porch of the house, they stood staring at us. After all the years that had past, the changes that had come over us, some simply from age and our assimilation into “proper society” and some earned with the worry and great stress from being in that wretched place, not a single one recognized who we were. This made my heart sad and was just the last parting gift of the school. Once we explained who we were and that we had at last found our way home, they looked at us and knew who we were. Our whole family rejoiced and was glad. Many hands reached out to embrace us and many tears flowed. Once every member of our family had seen and hugged us, I looked around only to notice that my mother was not there. Assuming she simply wasn’t there at the time of our return, I asked where she was and when she would be back. It was then that many family members began to cry for a different reason and their faces grew grim and grave. That was when my brother and I were told that she had died not long after we had been taken away. Her heart simply couldn’t bear the pain of losing her beloved children and her hope failed. She died from a broken heart long before old age could claim her. I was beside myself with grief and sadness. The last memory of her running after the car was just another blow to my heart as it replayed in my mind. My brother thankfully did not have that memory and for that I was glad. We were ushered into the house by our family and there for the next few years we remained, in hiding in case the school should send someone around to find us or someone on our reservation give us away again.”

Nathaniel looked at me as he finished his sentence. I could tell that all the pain he bore was still fresh in him, as if it had all happened only the day before. My heart went out to him and not knowing what else to do I laid my hand on his. He took it in his own, and gave mine a squeeze. We stared at each other for a moment and I felt hope began to creep up in me again. If this man, who had suffered so much in his young life, could bear his pain and wear his scars so proudly and with such grace and understanding, then surely I could find a way to bear mine.

After the moment passed he let my hand go and I asked him, “What happened to the school and what happened to your brother and Sarah?”


He stared back down at the floor, trying to figure out the order in which he wanted to answer my question. “I’ll answer your second question first. Once I turned 18 and the school and government no longer had claim on me I wanted to go to the school and whisk Sarah away to save her from that place since she would have nowhere to go once she was released. I planned on going to the school and I did. When I got there, however, I was told that she hadn’t been at that school for 2 years. I asked why and where she had gone, but they would not answer me. I looked in the surrounding towns and cities for her but I never found a trace of her. I was crushed. To this day I no longer know what happened to her. I just hope that if she is still alive that she is well and happy wherever she might be.

As for David, once he turned 21 and was considered a fully fledged adult, he sought to join the civil rights movement for our people and bring about change and justice for the hurts that have been done against our people and other Native American nations and tribes. He still to this day has sought to help our people any way he can, whether it is bringing resources and education to the reservations, or fighting in courts to abolish the schools and help the survivors to cope and heal as well as find a better life. I couldn’t be more proud of him. He kept his promise and has done his best to life a life fulfilled, using his second chance at life to help all he can. I try to do the same, though I am not as forthcoming about my experiences as he is, and I don’t like the limelight, but I do what I can and have helped many like me.


The school eventually shut down and was closed down recently though it had been in decline for years. My brother and many of the survivors of the school begged the government and the church, who owned the property of the school, to allow them to have access to the property in order to prove the abuse and neglect that happened at that school. They wanted a verbal and written apology for their suffering. They also wanted the bodies of their loved ones to be given back to them so they could give them a proper burial. They are still waiting and I believe they will have to wait a long, long time before the American Government and the Catholic Church ever acknowledge their wrongdoings.” He finished with a deep sigh.


We sat there for a long time then in silence and brooding thought, digesting all we had been told. That was when I decided I wanted to also help in some way. After all, a part of me was of Nathaniel’s and Deb’s tribe. His story and the story of many of our people was also mine. These were the people of which I was descended and I felt a great sense of pride and sorrow for all the hurts done to us. Searching for a way that I could help I finally landed on a singular thought that grew and grew till I found myself blurting it out.


“I know I can’t take back what they did to you or your brother. I also can’t change the past. I’m only one person and I’m not exactly the most outgoing person either, at least not enough to do what David does……but what if I helped find Sarah for you? I’m very good at pouring through old records and already plan on trying to help my dad find his family, so what if I found out what happened to her? It may not lead to anything but I’d like to repay you for your kindness and all the help you’ve given me. I can’t think of anything else much that I could do. What do you think?” I asked.


Nathaniel quickly looked at me and a tinge of excitement and hope came into his eyes. “I can’t think of anything I would like more!”


“It’s settled then! I’ll begin to search for and hopefully find Sarah. Just know that I may not be successful and whatever I dig up may not be good. I can tell though you need closure one way or the other. I’ll begin looking tomorrow. But it has gotten very late tonight, let’s all go to bed now and start fresh in the morning.” I stated as I rose from my seat, all the others rising as well.


I didn’t know what I was going to find in my search for Sarah and my father’s parents, but I was going to do my best. It would give me something to focus on and give me purpose. After reaching my room and finishing my nightly routine, I crawled into my soft, warm bed and laid there for a while, going over in my mind all that had been said that evening. As the night deepened and I grew more and more sleepy, I felt a gentle breeze coming through my open window and took note of the change in the weather. The seasons were changing and autumn was almost upon us, and with its change I took hope in knowing that I too had reached the end of a season in my life and was entering a new one. I planned to make the most of this new one as I could, and with that I fell into a calm and restful sleep.

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