Bastian was awakened early the next morning by the sound of his mother's voice. She was nearby, but she didn't know which camp was the one he was in. He had a couple of minutes to prepare for what he knew lay ahead of him. Once he got Atreyu awake, the two teens crawled out of the tent to face a very frightened mother.
"Bastian!" Lesley practically screamed as she engulfed her son in the tightest hug he had been in for quite a while. "Oh, son, we were so worried about you. When Lindsay called last night and told us that you had been taken by those men, I thought I would die."
"Lesley, sweetheart, if you don't let go of the boy, he may die of suffocation," her husband pointed out. Of course as soon as she released Bastian, he grabbed him in a quick embrace. "Are you alright son?"
"I think there's an atomic explosion going off in my head," the teen told them.
"The doctor said you'd likely have a hangover this morning," Atreyu reminded Bastian.
"If this is a hangover, I swear to never drink again," Bastian moaned.
"Bastian, I know how you are," his father began. "I don't want you to blame yourself for this. Those men were evil itself, and you had no control over them. If it hadn't been you, some other young man would have fallen victim to their trap." He turned to the other teen and added, "Thanks to you and your dad, Atreyu, they will never hurt another teen again."
"Atreyu, how can we ever thank you for saving our son?" Lesley asked the other teen.
"Well, Mrs. Lesley, I hope you and Mr. Edward will take part in our commitment ceremony on the reservation at the end of the summer," Atreyu answered as bravely as he could.
"No, absolutely not," Lesley said firmly. "I absolutely forbid my son to marry a boy who calls me Mrs. Lesley. If I'm going to be your mother-in-law, I think you can start calling me Lesley, or maybe Mom." The shock and then relief on the teens' faces were absolutely hysterical to Bastian's parents. The boys' emotions quickly changed again to frustration at Lesley's teasing of them.
"Lindsay told me about the reservation this morning on the phone, just before you boys got back from the hospital," Lesley told them. "I'm very happy for you boys. I admit that I hadn't thought much about Bastian getting married since I figured out that he was gay, and even when I did, I never expected it to be so soon."
"You boys have only just met after all," Edward pointed out.
"But Dad…."
"Wait and let us finish, boys," Lesley stopped them.
"We saw the looks in your eyes when you watched each other through supper that night," Edward continued. "We listened to what you told us about how you feel about one another, too."
"Most of all, we trust you to know what a big step you are taking," Lesley picked up. "What we're trying to say is that we are happy for you and proud of you, Bastian. Welcome to our family, Atreyu."
"You are a son to us now," Edward told Atreyu. "We might not have expected this so soon, but we think Bastian got the cream of the crop right off the bat."
"Don't say cream, dear," Lesley said not quietly enough. "You might embarrass them."
"I wasn't until you made a big deal out of it, Mom," Bastian complained as his face went bright red.
"Come on, Lesley," Edward called out to his wife. "Let's give the newlyweds some more sacktime. They have to finish their honeymoon today."
"Mom, Dad, we aren't married," Bastian blurted. "I chickened out."
"Don't you dare put yourself down over this, Bastian," Atreyu responded quickly. "You went through some deep shi…stuff last night. It is perfectly understandable that you would be nervous about last night. There is no rush. We have several weeks before the Pow Wow that this can happen, or we can wait until that night. If you want to we can even skip the ceremony this year."
"That's not fair to you," Bastian pointed out.
"It's not fair to me for you to feel pressured into doing something you're not ready for, just because you think you're doing it for me," Atreyu countered. "I would always be wondering if you did it because you had to or because you wanted to do it."
"I want to marry you, Atreyu," Bastian said as he began to cry. "I was just so afraid of those guys hurting me or worse. I was scared I would never see you again." He sniffled and continued. "Most of all, I was afraid that if I did see you again, you wouldn't want me anymore because they had messed with me."
"Bastian, you were drugged by those men," Atreyu told him. "You didn't choose to be with them. They were forcing you. I could never blame you for something you had no control over."
"Atreyu, if I weren't already sure you were mature enough for this decision, I would be now," Edward told the young man. "You make me proud to be your father-in-law, whether it's official or technical or whatever yet or not."
"Thank you, sir," Atreyu blushed a bit but held the man's gaze.
"Atreyu, do you realize what time it is?" Bastian suddenly gasped. "We have to get going if we're going to have the snow cone machine set up and running on time."
"Son, I'm sure no one expects you two to work today," Lesley said soothingly.
"Wrong Mom," Bastian corrected. "I do."
A few minutes later the boys were walking up to the snow cone machine and a surprised Jack. They immediately took over setting the machine up and turning it on and then raising the tent cover for shade. By that time Jack was able to speak again.
"Bastian, Atreyu, you shouldn't be working today," he told them. "You went through a terrible trauma last night. Go back to the tent and get some rest today."
"Mr. Jackson, I hired on to work this summer, and that's what I intend to do," Bastian said firmly.
"My people are honored to have you as one of us," Jack said seriously. "It will be my pleasure to sit beside you at the council fire of the elders and support your union to my son."
"Thank you, Father," Bastian told him.
"So you are my son-in-law now?" the man couldn't help asking.
"Ummm… well, no," Bastian said with a blush. "We were too tired to do anything but sleep. I was a little scared and nervous after last night too."
"There is no shame in waiting, Bastian," Jack assured him. "It is a big step. I know how teenage boys are however. If you would like, Lesley and I will stay in the tent and you guys can have the trailer at night."
"But wouldn't that…."
"Tribal law doesn't count in that case, because Atreyu doesn't own that trailer, I do," Jack explained. "You could get the relief that boys need, and not have to worry about a lifetime commitment."
"It's not the commitment that I couldn't handle," Bastian told the man. He looked away as he wiped away a tear.
"It would appear that I have arrived at a most opportune time." Everyone turned to see an old man with shoulder length gray hair standing there. Jack bowed to the newcomer, but Atreyu ran to him, receiving a warm hug. Bastian straightened up a bit when he saw this. The old man looked directly at Bastian. "You have hair of sunshine, but the heart of the bear when it comes to my grandson. When you marry him, your tribal name will be Sunshine Bear."
"Wait a minute," Bastian said as he thought about his new name. "Wasn't that one of the Care Bears?"
"Gotcha!" the old man laughed.
"Grandpa! Don't tease the blonde, they're too easy a target," Atreyu announced.
"Have fun in the camper with your parents tonight," Bastian said acidly.
"You wouldn't make him suffer through his father's snoring just because of that little comment would you?" the old man asked Bastian.
"Dad? I thought you loved me," Jack whined.
"Of course I love you son, but you could wake the dead with that racket you make," the shaman replied. "Bastian, something is troubling you, both of you," he added after a moment of staring at the boys. "Jack, may I take my white grandson for a walk?"
"I tried to tell him he didn't have to work today, but he won't listen," Jack announced.
"I'm fine," Bastian denied.
"Something has happened here that I am unaware of, and I hate it when that happens," the old man announced. "Bastian, walk with me. We will share a peace pipe." At the wide eyes of Bastian and his mother, the old shaman cackled. "I gotcha both that time."
"I'll go with you, Grandpa," Atreyu offered.
"Let me know this new grandson of mine," the old man said with a smile. "I will want to speak to you alone later as well." Bastian looked at his boyfriend and their parents with a nervous smile. "Come on, it's not that bad keeping an old man company, is it?"
"Bastian had a rough time last night, Dad," Jack told his father. "We didn't get a chance to call you and tell you about it."
"Could it have anything to do with the child sex ring that got broken up here last night?"
"How did you know?" Bastian asked.
"Ancient tribal magic," the old man answered with a wink.
"Wow," Bastian gasped.
"Explain your tribal magic to the pale faces, Dad," Jack ordered his father. The old man frowned, but didn't say a word. "He probably heard it on the radio."
"I did not," the old man denied. "I got a call from a tribe member who is a guard at the jail. He wanted to congratulate me on the bravery of my son and grandsons."
"Your ancient tribal magic is a cell phone?" Bastian asked.
"It's a lot faster than smoke signals, although with smoke signals you don't have to worry about reception as much as you do wind direction, burning buffalo chips smells like… well, burning buffalo chips," the old man said with a smile and a shrug. Bastian couldn't help liking this old man, even if the shaman had picked on him a bit.
"It is an honor to walk with the grandfather of my love," Bastian said formally and bowed to the old man.
"You'd think I was somebody with a greeting like that," the old man smiled. "It is my honor to meet the handsome angel of sunlight who has captured the heart of my grandson," he said returning the bow.
The teenager and the old man walked along together quietly for a moment. There were occasional comments, but nothing too serious. Bastian definitely got the idea that the man really did just want to get to know him. It wasn't the third degree grilling he was expecting at all. Grandpa seemed like a really cool old man with a slightly warped sense of humor.
"Hey, look at that!" the old man exclaimed, pointing at a booth just ahead of them. There was a black velvet painting for sale there. The subject of the art was a Native American chief with full headdress. "I remember him. That's Sam Dry Walker."
"You know the model for that picture?" Bastian asked him.
"Sure did," he confirmed. "He got his name because he was deathly afraid of water. He would only walk on dry ground. If it rained, he stayed home in his house. He hated it so much that he wouldn't even bathe. The tribe thought of renaming him Pig Pen."
"He was dirty like the character in the Charlie Brown cartoons?" the teen questioned.
"No, he smelled like a stinking pig pen," Grandpa explained. "He died of a heart attack alone in his house one day. No one knew he had died for nearly a month. We couldn't tell a difference in the smell."
"That's terrible," Bastian gasped.
"My grandson is right," the old man smiled. "You are an easy target." He laughed for a second before explaining that no matter how infrequently a man bathed, if he died, the smell would get worse within a couple of days.
"Are you ever serious?" Bastian asked him. He realized that had been kind of rude, so he started to apologize.
"You have a right to ask questions, Bastian," he countered. "I am serious when the occasion calls for it. When I am participating in tribe business, I am very serious. No one should be serious all the time, though. It makes you die sooner. I have a lot to live for and plan to fight going to the next plain of existence as long as I can."
"You mean the happy hunting ground?" Bastian asked innocently.
"You watch too many old movies, kid," he laughed. "My hunting ground is the Kroger down the street. I couldn't kill an animal if I had to. My ancestors may have done it, but not me. If I see the animal's eyes, I can't kill it and I can't eat it. I just don't have the heart."
"I don't think I could either," Bastian agreed. "I was afraid that I would embarrass Atreyu in front of the tribe because I am practically a vegetarian."
"There are a couple of vegetarians in the tribe," the shaman assured him. "You will never embarrass Atreyu. He may embarrass you at times, but it will never go the other way."
"I wish I could believe that," Bastian mumbled. "I'm such a dumb blonde sometimes. Like last night, for instance. If I hadn't been so stupid as to accept a drink from total strangers, I wouldn't have gotten into the situation I did with those guys. I wouldn't have needed Atreyu and his dad to rescue me."
"Perhaps you should look at it this way then; if you hadn't gotten into that situation those evil men would not have been stopped and perhaps another young man would have fallen into their trap and never been seen again." He put his hand on the teen's arm and looked directly into the boy's eyes, as he added, "You are a hero, Bastian, not a victim. The only one who can make you a victim is you."
"Thanks," Bastian told him. "I guess I knew that, but it helps to hear it again."
"You are most welcome," he smiled. "Now, since we are at the far end of the parking lot away from the crowds, I have a couple of questions to ask you." He must have seen the boy get nervous, because he said, "There's nothing to worry about. Consider it prenuptial counseling." When Bastian nodded, he continued. "Do you really love my grandson enough to spend the rest of your life with him? You are young; your feelings could change."
"Not these feelings," Bastian said firmly. "The day that I met Atreyu, I found something that had been missing in my life since birth. He is the other half of my soul. I not only don't want to live without him, I don't think I could if I had to do it."
"What are your plans after high school?" the old man asked.
"I have always wanted to be a writer," the boy told him. "I want to get a college degree in English with perhaps a minor in Culture Studies."
"Do you know what Atreyu plans to do?"
"I know that he wants to be an artist," Bastian thought out loud. "I haven't seen any of his work yet, but he's told me how much drawing means to him."
"Have you considered teaching?" Grandpa asked. "The reservation school could always use more teachers, especially one that will be able to help them bridge their own culture with that of the white man's world they live in."
"I actually did consider teaching as a way to support myself while I write in my spare time," Bastian told him. "I don't know how I would do trying to teach kids about their own culture when I don't know much about it myself."
"You will learn," the old man smiled. "Assuming the two of you come out of the bedroom long enough to do anything else." Teenage cheeks and ears instantly began burning and the shaman laughed out loud. "You find my grandson very attractive then?" he pushed.
"Atreyu is the sexiest, most incredible looking guy I have ever met," Bastian gushed. "I wonder sometimes what someone as gorgeous as he is could possibly see in me."
"Ask him, he will tell you," Grandpa replied. "Believe him when he tells you. He will never lie to you, except in jest, and neither will I."
"Is it really possible to marry him just by sleeping together in his tent?" the teen had to ask.
"If the two of you engage in a physical act of your love in his tent, then in the eyes of the tribe, you are married," he confirmed. "I can assume that you have not done this based on that question."
"We've done some things at my house," Bastian confessed with another powerful blush. "We haven't in the tent yet. Last night was our first night in it, and that was ruined by those sleezeballs."
"You see, already you're beginning to put the blame for last night where it truly belongs," Grandpa told the boy. "You do not say that you messed up; you admit that the fault is theirs. It is their choice to have tried to mess with you."
"Does that make me unclean or something for Atreyu?" Bastian asked.
"We're Native Americans, not Orthodox Jews," Grandpa grinned. "Let's go back now and find your future husband."
"How did you know that I want him to…?" Bastian gasped. "Oh, you didn't, did you?" he squeaked as he realized that he had blurted out too much information. The teen was sure his face couldn't have been any redder.
"You know, as much as you blush, if you were to dye your hair darker, no one would know you weren't a red man," the old man laughed. "By the way, don't worry about your tribal name. We'll come up with something that fits you."
"No cartoon characters, please?" the boy asked with a grin.
"Agreed," the old man said returning the smile. He grew serious as he asked, "Do you feel better about what you have been through? A wise man who should have been a native tribesman once said that anything that does not kill you makes you stronger."
"I still don't feel very strong," Bastian admitted. "I feel better than I did, but I don't feel stronger."
"Bastian, you remind me of one of my favorite trees," the old man said thoughtfully. He saw the boy look down at his crotch and sigh in relief, but he would wait and pick on him about that later. "A lot of people think of willows as small, weak trees that are too dependant on water. The thing is when a storm blows through it is the mighty oak and the tall majestic pine that are broken and twisted. The willow bends with the force of the wind and shakes in its moment of fear from the storm. It doesn't break, however. The willow is smart enough to know that the water keeps it fluid enough to handle whatever the storm throws at it. It isn't dependency or fear that keeps the willow near the water, it is wisdom."
"I never thought about it that way before," Bastian mused.
"As you and Atreyu go through life, let him be the water to your willow," the old man advised. "It is only fitting after all, since he gives you wood all the time anyway," he added with a mischievous wink. He was still laughing and Bastian was still blushing when they got back to the snow cone stand where Atreyu was waiting. "Look Atreyu, more ancient tribal magic, I made your boyfriend a red man," Grandpa laughed. Poor Bastian could only blush more, which had everyone laughing.