“It’s Meat,” He Said. “That’s How We Eat Around Here”

Many Glacier Stream

Many Glacier

Montana Bunkhouse

Reservation cops responded to my call, and when they arrived they took me to the hospital. The doctor, after he washed and dressed my wounds, told me I was lucky. The truck must have rolled over my leg just right. I lost a couple layers of skin along my hand, wrist, and one arm. After I was bandaged, the police took me to the station where I began answering questions for their report when Bev walked in. Apparently, after Mead ran me over with the truck, he took Bev out in the woods to rape her. When he stopped the truck, she jumped out and ran. She ran faster than he did and made it into town where she called the police. She was glad that I was okay, and I felt the same about her. We were told by one of the officers that somebody would give us a ride over to Bev’s place. We sat in the station for more than an hour before that happened, though.

Bev was not a beauty queen, but she was not unattractive either. She was a strong woman. She knew who she was and what she wanted. She worked with the Indians in Arizona and Montana and she wanted to continue to work with Indians when she got her degree. She was very inquisitive, and knew more about Indian culture and history than anyone I had ever talked with. We immediately went to bed when we got dropped off at her trailer. I really wanted to sleep, but two new bodies lying in the same bed together got the better of both of us. Bev did the work; I just laid there (in pain).

Stiff with pain, I sat in Bev’s trailer the next day until 3 p.m. and
then tried hitching back to Babb, thirty miles down the highway. When I limped out to the street and headed in the right direction, four young male Indians picked me up. They were joyriding on a Sunday afternoon and, after hearing my story, volunteered to drive me back to Babb. They shared with me their beer and venison. On our way we passed a herd of deer grazing in a field, and one of the Indians made the driver stop while he went around to the trunk and pulled out a rifle. He sighted in on the big deer, the one that stood out from the others in the heard, but before he could shoot, the deer ran. “It’s meat,” he said. “That’s how we eat around here.”

One of the Indians asked me if I had seen Many Glacier yet. I said,
“No.” So when we came to the turn off, we turned left and drove the
five miles up to Many Glacier. The scenery was super; the road wove up the mountain until we came to a large open canyon area. At the end of the highway sat the large Many Glacier Hotel. On the way up we passed a large rockslide and above it were two caves. I immediately wanted to explore the place, but given my situation that was impossible. I was in so much pain; I even had a hard time enjoying the scenery.


About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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5 Responses to “It’s Meat,” He Said. “That’s How We Eat Around Here”

  1. Mèo Lười Việt says:

    I was in so much pain; I even had a hard time enjoying the scenery.

    Poor you. Eating too much meat is harmful for your health. You know, people who eats meat too much has shorter life than vegetarian. I’m not vegetarian but don’t eat meat much. I try to eat as less meat as I can, ’cause I believe in Buddhism. Buddha said that all the creatures in this world are brothers. And I hate people who kills wild animals, I hate people who kills dogs and cats… 🙂

    To be honest, i don’t like and never care about being a beauty queen. Being in the spotlight is bored and losing your privacy. I prefer something private and MYSTERIOUS. Mysteriousness is one of the most interesting things in life. 😉

  2. bwinwnbwi says:

    I also believe in Buddhism. I practiced it, in one way or another, for many years, but raising a family that was physically challenged when it came to getting the right nutrition, I went back to eating meat and anything else that would keep my family healthy. What follows is some of what I like best about Buddhism:

    The sectarian nature of any religion speaks through its own tradition because all religions are a product of the individuality that speaks through the form of b~b~bb, which, in turn, lies embedded in nature, humanity, and divinity. The Buddhist tradition comes as close as any tradition in expressing the best of this idea. Here’s how one of my Professors (Guy Newland) expressed divinity from a Buddhist perspective:

    [“There is a cloud here in this piece of paper. Without a cloud, there will be no rain; without rain the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either.

    The cloud and the paper inter-are. Perhaps the word ‘interbeing’ should be in the dictionary.

    If we look deeply, we see that in the paper there is also the sun; nothing can grow without sunshine. The paper and the sun inter-are.

    We can see the logger. The mill (and its effluent). We see the wheat from fields that fed the logger. For there is no paper without the logger, and the logger cannot log without daily bread. Likewise, the logger’s father and mother are also in this paper.

    Looking deeply, we see ourselves in the paper. When we look at the paper, it is our perception; your mind and my mind meet in this paper, and we are both there.

    What is NOT here in the sheet of paper? Time, space, the earth, rain, minerals, the sun, cloud, river, heat—everything co-exists with this sheet of paper. As thin as this sheet of paper is, it contains the universe in it. How can it fit?

    The paper entirely depends upon non-paper elements, things that are not in themselves paper, such as carbon, and the sun, and the logger’s mother. And yet without them, there is no paper.

    To be is to inter-be with every things, non—us things. Like the paper, we are inevitably vast; we include all that is other than ourselves.

    As one Civil War nurse (Walt Whitman) said, “I am large, I contain multitudes.” When we pay close attention to who we really are, there is no one else, no one who is left out.

    Acting from this understanding, service is not a strained sacrifice, but a natural activity. Within this mind, helpful care is not exactly compassion for another, but more like a reflex, a spontaneous gesture.

    The right hand does not congratulate the left hand on having given to the poor.

    No credit, no blame. No Trace. This is Buddha.”]

    Adapted by Guy Newland from “Interbeing” in “Peace is Every Step” (Bantam, 1992) by Thich Nhat Hanh

    • Mèo Lười Việt says:

      Acting from this understanding, service is not a strained sacrifice, but a natural activity. Within this mind, helpful care is not exactly compassion for another, but more like a reflex, a spontaneous gesture.

      The way you write makes people laugh uncontrollably first, but after that when he has time to think thoroughly, he can’t laugh anymore. I was the same. Too proud to show my broken heart. And when I must write about it to ease my pain, I write in a way laughing at myself.

  3. Mèo Lười Việt says:

    No Trace. This is Buddha.

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