"Oh, my little baby boy," Lesley sobbed into her husband's handkerchief as he and her son rolled their eyes… where she couldn't see them, of course. "My baby boy is getting married."
"Mom, I have to get dressed soon," Bastian whined as his mother grabbed him and hugged him so tightly he thought he would die of lack of oxygen before he could have the ceremony with Atreyu.
"Lesley, sweetheart, you do remember this isn't a wedding, right? This is just a recognition ceremony from the tribe announcing that Bastian and Atreyu are already married," Ed reasoned. Lesley cried even worse and hugged Bastian tighter.
"Dad… not helping," the teenager gasped.
"Knock knock," a soft voice called out. "I know this is just a time for family, but I was hoping…."
"Granny Yancy!" Bastian called out eagerly. "You know you're family, Granny. Please come in."
"Oh, my, you know this is my first time in a teepee?" the old woman whispered as she stepped inside. "Oh, or is it a wigwam, dear? I wouldn't want to offend your little husband or his family. I may fuss about these old gray hairs, but I wouldn't want to get scalped."
"Granny, no one is going to scalp you," Bastian assured her as he voluntarily submitted to another bone-crushing hug from a female.
"I know, sweetheart," Granny Yancy said with a smile that turned naughty. "But if I don't act all scared and worried, how am I going to get some handsome, elderly brave to sweep me off my feet and teach me differently?"
"Granny!" Bastian squealed and blushed.
"Just because there's snow on the roof don't mean the pilot light's out, Rosebud," she giggled, making the boy blush even more at the implication of her words and the use of the nickname he had been given by her when he was ten years old and got caught stealing her roses for his mom. "Now I have a little something for you, sweetheart, and I know you're going to think it's silly, but I wanted to give you something for this special day, and your mother here told me that the only things you were allowed to have inside the circle thing have to be all-natural. I made this for you myself from my garden." She handed him what looked like a box from a bakery, but he found a small wreath of roses when he opened it. There were seven roses in the wreath; one white, one red, one orange, one yellow, one green, one blue, and one violet.
"Granny, it's beautiful," Bastian murmured, deliberately not thinking about how feminine it would look on him, especially when paired with the longer dress-like outfit he would be wearing. Granny Yancy had made it herself just for him, and he would wear it even if it had turned out to be a lace shawl. As he looked at it, the colors struck him, though. "Granny, how did you know to use the gay pride flag colors?"
"The what, dear?" she asked him in confusion. "I picked the colors based on what they mean as roses. The red one means love and desire. The orange stands for passion. The yellow represents friendship and caring. The blue rose is mysterious and unique; it's for the person that marches to their own drum, and with you marrying a Native brave, I'm sure you'll have lots of drums in your future. The violet rose means fascination and adoration. I'm sure you wouldn't have gotten together with this young man if you weren't fascinated with him, and if he has any sense at all, he will adore you just like we all do."
"That's so… so beautiful, Granny," Bastian whispered as now he was the one crying and hugging her. After a moment, he pulled back and asked, "Granny, you skipped one. What about the green rose?"
"A green rose is for harmony and fertility, both very important in a marriage. Don't look at me like that, Rosebud. I know you're both boys, but you can adopt, and from what I hear, trying for one the old-fashioned way is why you're having this ceremony in the first place."
"Granny!" Bastian squealed and blushed. The older woman just smiled and kissed his forehead.
"Now if you don't mind, Rosebud, I would like to tell you why I didn't let anyone into my yard, or my life, until you came along, and why I told you to start calling me Granny, instead of Mrs. Yancy," the old woman said softly. She sat on one of the hand-cut log benches inside the tent and pulled her handkerchief from her purse as she began speaking.
She started by saying that she had been raped as a young teenager, which led her to believe that no man would ever want her as 'dirty, used goods.' In her twenties, she met a wonderful young man named Delbert Yancy, who finally convinced her that she was not to blame for what had happened to her, nor was she dirty or unlovable. They married, and a year later, they were blessed with a perfect little baby boy.
As their son grew up, though, there were little things that she and her husband noticed. Little Del didn't play sports like the other boys. He preferred working in the garden planting roses for his mother. As he got older, he didn't seem to pay any attention to the girls that came by flirting with him as he worked in the rose garden, but when the boys walked by, he would pause and stare. He eventually confessed to his mother that he didn't like girls at all, and had urges for the boys instead. His father overheard that talk. He later insisted on taking the boy camping, even though young Del didn't want to go.
Delbert Yancy, Jr. never came home from that camping trip. His tortured body was found weeks later, as were the knives and other implements that had hurt and killed him, all with his own father's fingerprints on them… only his father's prints. Del confessed, saying that he had the right to kill the fairy and that he had no son. That the man who had taught her love could do such a thing broke something inside Jubilee Yancy, and until a little boy came into her precious and closely guarded rose garden many years later, she never let anyone inside the walls she built around herself.
When she started noticing the same signs in Bastian that she had seen in Del Jr., she had gone to Bastian's parents to tell them and to warn them that she would not let anyone hurt Bastian, especially not the people that were supposed to love him the very most. Fortunately, she had nothing to worry about, as Bastian's parents had already figured him out as well, and were waiting to be told by their son.
"You already knew Granny?" Bastian asked as he wiped tears from his face.
"By the time you were twelve, Rosebud," she confirmed.
"Wait, you went to talk to Mom and Dad when I was twelve, and they…. You guys all knew when I was twelve? How come you didn't talk to me about it then?" Bastian demanded.
"It wasn't our place to tell you, Rosebud," Granny said with a smile. "When it's your life, it's your job to tell us when you're ready. Even if we already know, because, sweetie, boys are NEVER as secret as they think they are."
"Mom, you gotta get Mama Lindsay right now," Bastian blurted. "Please, Mom, hurry."
"All right, son, but what is the matter?" Lesley asked.
"If there is any way at all possible, I want Granny to be with you and Dad as my family in the circle today," Bastian explained. "If you are willing, that is, Granny."
"I'd like to see somebody try and stop me," the old woman smiled. "But, Rosebud, I don't have an outfit to wear for this. This polyester dress of mine will definitely not count as all-natural, you know."
"You want to see if Lindsay knows someone that can help?" Lesley figured it out aloud. "I will be right back."
"Why don't I just come with you, dear? That way the boys here can get ready," Granny suggested. "I just want to say thank you before I go, my little Rosebud. You gave me back another family after I lost mine, and you taught me that there is still love in the world for a frumpy, grumpy old lady like me."
"You're not frumpy or grumpy, Granny," Bastian assured her. "You're just perfect," he added with a hug. The women left to hopefully find something that Granny could wear for the ceremony, and Bastian sat on the bench the older woman had vacated.
"It's time to get you kitted out, son," Ed said as he reached out and stroked Bastian's cheek, wiping away the last of the tears for the moment.
Bastian stood and looked around at the things he needed to wear. He then looked up at his Dad nervously. "This is kind of embarrassing, Dad, but I really can't quite figure out how to do the breechcloth thing by myself," Bastian admitted with yet another blush. "I know I practiced with Mama Lindsay and with Papa Jack, but I get dizzy trying to reach that far between my legs and then stand back up."
"Well, Jack tells me that it is tribal custom for your parent to help you dress for this ceremony anyway, son. Although, I can call your mother back if you prefer," Ed teased.
"NO! No, no, no," Bastian blurted quickly. "I think this is definitely a job for my dear, old Dad."
"The way it looks, it's not that different from when I changed your diapers," Ed mused.
"Oh, that mental image makes this much less awkward for me. Thanks, Daddy," Bastian snarked.
"Well, speaking of awkward," Ed began. "Son, I know you and I haven't said a lot of things to one another that got into the touchy-feely territory. Oh, God, that sounded wrong saying to my gay son. I'm sorry."
"Dad, if this is where you tell me that you love me, I promise you, I have always known that deep down," Bastian said seriously as he started stripping down so he could put on the ceremonial outfit. "I might have doubted in my head when I was first figuring out that I was gay, but my heart has always known. I love you, too, Daddy."
"Don't call me Daddy and make me want to hug you when you're naked," Ed scolded lightly as he might have been wiping a tear from his own cheek. "You're too grown up now for that to not be creepy for both of us."
"This isn't creepy for you, is it? I mean all of this, not just helping me wear a deerskin diaper?"
"Like your Granny said a bit ago, and like we've already told you as well," Ed started talking as he knelt down beside his son. "I have known for a few years now that you were not going to be bringing a daughter-in-law into the family. I knew it would be a guy, even if I didn't think it would be an official son-in-law when you're both still sixteen years old. Part of me wants to object because you're so young, but another part of me knows that you are a lot more mature than I usually want to admit. I miss having my little Basty tagging along with me like a pint-sized shadow every weekend. But I'm also really, really proud of the fine young man you have become. Besides, like Granny said, you can adopt, so I can still look forward to having another little mini-me shadow in a few years. I would definitely prefer that you wait at least until you are out of high school before you make me a Grandfather, though."
"No worries there, Dad," Bastian assured him as he stepped into the leggings. "I do not plan on having kids for a long time yet. At least not my own full-time kids. I really like the idea of being a teacher on the reservation, though."
"You'll be a great teacher, son," Ed told him. "There is just one more awkward moment to get through, though."
"What's that, Dad?"
"It's your turn to help me with the deerskin diaper."
"Oh… OH… umm, yeah, ok," the teen stammered. "I can do this, but I am soooo NOT looking at anything. I may be gay, but I do not have Daddy issues," he mumbled. "Ok, there you go, Dad. You good with the rest of it?"
"Yeah, everything else I can deal with. Thanks, Basty," Ed said with a blush. "I had planned to have your mother help, but I imagine that she's helping your Granny now."
"OH, DAD! Bad mental images, eeewww. Why did you say that?"
"I'm trying to forget it as well, son, trust me."
"Safe to come in?" Jack called out from outside the tent.
"Sure, Papa Jack, we're all set," Bastian called out.
"Wow, you both look great," Jack murmured. "I am so proud to be bringing you guys into the tribe."
"Well, just Bastian, really, right?" Ed corrected.
"No, Ed, when Bastian marries into the tribe, his family comes with him," Jack explained. "I would have wanted you in the tribe anyway for all the help you've been giving the council in money matters. This makes it a lot easier. Because of your role as advisor to the tribal council, you will be viewed as one of the elders of the tribe, Ed. Only my father, the medicine man, and my uncle, the chief, can veto your words after today. The council still has to vote to do as you suggest, but those ideas of yours will carry a lot more weight now."
"Jack, I had no idea," Ed marveled. "I am happy to help any way I can, but I am honored that you would… that the tribe would…."
"We know good people when we see them, my friend, even if they are white men. Besides, if you give us bad advice, we can always scalp you later."
"WHAT?" Ed and Bastian both squeaked.
"I'm kidding; I'm kidding," Jack laughed. "We can't scalp the father of a future medicine man."
"Father of a who?" Bastian blurted.
"The custom of the tribe is that the chief and the shaman are offices passed down in a family. My father's elder brother was the chief, but his sons were killed in Vietnam. So when he retired, my brother Abe became the new chief. By the time he retires, I will have already taken over as the shaman for our father. That means that the role of chief will fall to Atreyu. As I have no other children, the role of medicine man will fall to you as his spouse when I retire," Jack told them. "There are no other family members in line for it. Either you take it, or we have to do a really complicated and long, drawn-out process of finding someone else from the tribe for the job."
"Won't the tribe object to me being a medicine man since I'm not born in the tribe?" Bastian asked.
"We don't see things that way, Bastian," Jack told him. "The fact that you weren't tribe doesn't matter anymore once you are tribe. Although, to be fair, you might be the palest medicine man we've ever had," he added with a laugh. "So, I just wanted to check in with you. I better get back to Atreyu to see if he's stopped feeling nauseous because he's afraid you are going to refuse to wear your outfit and will back out and leave him alone in the circle. I can at least tell him that you're in the outfit."
"I'm in this outfit, and I plan to keep this outfit forever, so you tell my brave that he better not puke on it, or his honeymoon will make the laxative incident look tame," Bastian ordered. "No, don't do that. Just tell him I love him very much."
"I will tell him all of it," Jack grinned. "He needs to know his mate is a strong person who will stand beside him even when he is being stupid and will call him out on that stupidity. You are perfect for my son, Bastian. I couldn't ask for anyone better for him to spend his life with."
Jack left the tent, and a couple of moments later, Grandfather walked in. "I was with my grandson when my son delivered your message, Bastian. He wept, and he laughed, and he wept some more, but his stomach is settled now. It also proves to me that I have chosen the right name for you in the tribe." He said something in the native language and then smiled. "It means Heart of the Sun. You are bright and golden like the sun, but you have brought love to our family. Beyond that, the burning at the heart of the sun is the fiercest, so it is very unwise to fight against it. It is a fierce person that threatens their sick mate on the wedding day. I do not say that is a bad thing. It is the job of the sun to be fierce and inspire the best in those who have been gifted to witness the power that is brought by its burning."
"Grandfather, that is so beautiful, but are you sure that's really me?" Bastian said as he hugged the older man with one arm and wiped tears from his face with the other. "I'm not that fierce. Atreyu and Papa Jack, they're the heroes."
"A single candle flame can light a whole room," Grandfather said. "Is it weak because it is only one flame, or is it strong and fierce because it can pierce the darkness and drive it away? Make no mistake, Atreyu and Jack would not be heroes if it were not you that they were rescuing. Anyone else, they would have helped by calling the police and leaving it to them. For you, they went to battle. For you, they conquered. For you, my grandson has become a man. Now, I believe it is time for us to make our way to the circle. By the way, who was the beautiful woman with your mother earlier? Idle curiosity of an old man, you know."
"Idle curiosity?" Bastian smirked.
"Just because there is snow on the roof, doesn't mean the pilot light is out in the oven," Grandfather shrugged.
"Funny, she was just saying the exact same thing as she went out to look for handsome, mature braves to assure her that she would not be scalped today," Ed smiled and winked at his son, who returned the grin.
"Granny is a warrior in her own right, Grandfather," Bastian told the old man. "She is a wounded warrior, but still a warrior. She went to my parents to threaten them if they did not accept me for being gay."
"So bold?" the old man asked with a raised eyebrow. "I also saw she carried a blue rose to wear during the ceremony. That was my late wife's favorite flower."
"Roses are really special to Granny," Bastian said seriously. "Hopefully, she will tell you the story. If she does, I think you have a good chance, Grandfather."
"Good chance at what? Can't a man think a lady is attractive and fascinating without you young folks reading things into it? I wonder if she knows what the blue rose means?"
"Maybe you could tell her," Ed suggested. "I'm sure she would appreciate hearing it."
"Well, a good friend is always nice to have," Grandfather mused. "Perhaps I will speak to her after the ceremony."
"Grandfather, will I really be the shaman of the tribe someday?" Bastian asked the older man quietly. "I don't know anything about medicine. OH! I won't have to help women birth babies, will I?"
"Worry not, grandson," the old man smiled. "A shaman is more of a priest than a doctor," he explained. "Yes, you might get some people that prefer to talk to you about their ailments, but that is becoming very rare in this day and age. We do not distrust white man medicine so much anymore. Do not worry about what you will need to know. Between my son and I, you will be prepared for the job when you have to take it. Anything that comes up that you aren't sure about or comfortable with, you can ask the elders of the tribe for help. They will be glad to help you while you are young and new to the tasks. I hope you also know that this means you and Atreyu need to have at least two children to take your place someday. You will make as wonderful a mother as he does a father."
"Grandpa! Really? You, too?" Bastian whined.
"If the teasing truly bothers you, why do you smile, little sunshine?"
"Well, I guess I'm finally starting to see things the tribal way," Bastian said. "It's the role that I fit into, and that has nothing to do with my gender. Besides, I'm a two-spirit. That means I am in touch with my feminine side as well as my male."
"And this is why I know you will make a fine shaman," Grandfather smiled. "You are seeing things as they should be for the best outcome. You are already learning what you need to take my place someday."
"No one will ever be able to replace you, Grandfather," Bastian assured him.
"I love you, too, Grandson. Now let us go out and present you and your family to the tribal council and our ancestors. Your first job as a future shaman is to help me choose the names for your parents. I know you don't know the language yet, but you tell me what you feel is right, and I will find the Native words."
"Oh great, so no pressure on the kid that's getting married today," Bastian snorted.
"Would I do that?" Grandpa asked with an innocent expression. He and Bastian laughed all the way to the ceremonial circle.