By Mollie Nail
CHARACTERS:
PAYTAH, seeker
WI-SAPA, holy man
DEER
HELPERS
SETTING:
Black Hills, South Dakota
TIME:
June 1578
PAYTAH, a thirteen-year-old Oglala child arrives at the top of a hill. Five poles have been lodged in the ground, four in a diamond and one in the center. A bed of sage lies from west to east. Paytah surveys his view.
PAYTAH:
This is a very uninspiring perch. They put Chaytan at the crest of a waterfall. What am I supposed to get out of a view that looks like a rolling green blanket?
Halfheartedly, Paytah paces between the five poles and offers a sealed pipe up to each of them. He casts his gaze around, and around, and flops onto the ground.
PAYTAH:
I just hope I’m not one of those people who dreams of a dragonfly, or a groundhog, or a mole. I don’t even know what I’d do at that point… I want to see a hawk, or a wolf, or a cougar! But I can’t keep thinking about it, I don’t want to psych myself into seeing one. I want it to be real.
He gets up and paces again between the poles, more frantically this time.
PAYTAH:
I’m going to see something. Everyone sees something. There’s no way that you can drive yourself that close to death, and not see something. Even if it’s just a leaf talking to me, or a cloud or a star changing color, that’s still something that means something. Unless Wi-Sapa says that something that minor, was probably just a trick of the light, or else should have been accompanied by a more significant component…
He kicks a rock over the edge.
PAYTAH:
I have to keep coming out here if I don’t see anything. That’s the other thing.
Night falls. Paytah lies on his bed of sage.
PAYTAH:
How much hungrier do I have to get before I see anything? I only feel lightheaded. Nothing else. Wi-Sapa will be ashamed.
He alternates between pacing and lying down. The details of his surroundings grow fuzzy. When the sun rises again, things look strange- warped, dimmed.
PAYTAH:
(Laughing, relieved) Alright, this is promising.
With renewed vigor, Paytah offers his pipe to the six directions again.
PAYTAH:
(As he paces between the poles) I want to see. I need this. I need to see something. Show me what it is I need to see to become a man. I can’t be a child anymore. I’ve outgrown being a child. But people still consider me to be one. They still treat me like a child. They don’t understand how advanced my mind is, they don’t realize that I’m an adult already. And it’s only because I haven’t had one of their visions. Why is it the vision that decides whether you’re a man or not? What if I’d been born blind? They’d have to find another way. And that means that this isn’t the only way. I’ll find another man to show them that I’m a way. I’ll do it. I’ll take a Tsitsista captive and throw him into Wi-Sapa’s doorway to replace his nephew. Then they’ll see I don’t need a vision to become a man. I’ll find another way to show them that I’m a man. Please, show me. Show me what it is that I need to see to pass whatever test you have for me. Please. I’m tired of being a child. Take this away from me. Please, show me. I need this. I need to be worthy. Come on. Don’t you have anything? Just make something happen! Anything! Please!
Eventually, darkness falls again. Tonight, a dream finally strikes Paytah. A purple light soaks the forest. The sky ripples. Black clouds surge across the sky. Paytah is standing underneath red lightning.
PAYTAH:
Okay. Here we are. We made it here. We’re good.
A crack, not lightning. Paytah whirls. A red buffalo shambles through his camp, fixes him with flashing eyes and carries on. Darkness. When he wakes, the camp is crisp with his hunger-induced alertness, but things look like their proportions have been altered.
PAYTAH:
Okay. It’s done.
He gazes down the hill for a while.
PAYTAH:
Why am I waiting on Wi-Sapa? He’s not coming! I still have another two days up here! Two days? Two more days of not eating or drinking? No. I can’t make that. I’m going to die up here. I’m not ever getting off this hill. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. Why isn’t one vision enough? No, I have to have more. I guess that wasn’t good enough. Where are you? Come on! Distract me from this! I can’t do this, please, please distract me from this. Get me out of this, please. Please, please make the next two days feel fast. Please just knock me out for the rest of this. Please, Wi-Sapa. Wi-Sapa, where are you? Come on, Wi-Sapa, please. Wi-Sapa, please. I need you. I miss you. Please…
Paytah is swamped in darkness. He slumps on the bed of sage. A small circle of light around him, and four deer heads emerge from the shadows, one near each pole. As he wakes again, another deer looks down on him from above, and another looks up at him from the ground. Thunder howls.
PAYTAH:
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
He looks away, curling in on himself.
PAYTAH:
How does Wi-Sapa do this all the time without losing his mind? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I am losing my mind. I’m dying.
The deer snarl.
DEER:
(All) Look all over! They are calling you.
PAYTAH:
Why?
The deer withdraw. The thunder dissipates. Paytah lies alone. He’s awake now.
PAYTAH:
That is not what I expected deer to sound like when they talk.
The world looks steadier.
PAYTAH:
Now I wish I’d looked at you. This is so unfair. Wi-Sapa…
Consciousness is intermittent now.
PAYTAH:
Can’t I just have one more, that I can look in the eyes? Now that I really want it, I’m sure you won’t show me anything. You’re cruel. All of you. You like to mock me. You want to see me be a coward and a child for the rest of my life. You want to see me stay like this forever. You like it.
Paytah waits for anything else.
PAYTAH:
Nothing? (He waits a moment longer.) I fought for this. Don’t ever forget that.
Paytah collapses somewhere in the camp. Eventually, WI-SAPA and a few helpers ascend the hill.
WI-SAPA:
(Calling) Paytah!
Paytah stirs. The helpers get him to his feet. He’s actually vaguely conscious. He locks eyes with Wi-Sapa.
PAYTAH:
It was because I see them every day.
WI-SAPA:
What was that?
PAYTAH:
I know it. I see them on the prairie every day. Why was it something I don’t see every day? If it had been something elusive, I would know. But it wasn’t, I just see them every day. Both of them. So I know.
WI-SAPA:
There’s a note in your voice that makes me feel that you know nothing.
PAYTAH:
Oh, come on. I know a little. I know a little now.
WI-SAPA:
Maybe you do.
PAYTAH:
Can you know that you don’t know? Is that enough?
WI-SAPA:
Today, it is.
They descend the hill back toward their village.