Savage Blossoms - The Novel

by: Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm, FallenRanger, Cad Grublygold, Greg, Old Horsetail Snake, Ellinor, Amandrarama, Kid Relish, Blake McStravick, Ari, Roundelay and Latigo Flint. (Score by J. Jonah Jinxy, Jr.)

With weeping hearts and stoic faces we pushed ever westward, deep into that savage land of death and dogwood blossoms. Our caravan had traversed the lonely plains for two months, determined and weary before the onslaught of searing sunlight and cholera. Now five men, five of the bravest men I would ever know, trudged beside me leaving the rest buried under shallow graves of clay and granite.

On a distant hilltop, Chief Crazy Weasel squinted into the rising sun at five weary figures that had just appeared. The white man had come bringing disease and death to his fair land. The chief sharpened an arrow on the skull of the last white man to enter the valley and picked his teeth with it while he contemplated his next move.

As we walked ever westward, I told my companions to keep an eye sharply peeled and ogled, for we might be in Indian country. I had seen signs of pox, large and small. Not ten minutes later, Hidalgo, the eldest and most wizened of those five brave men, suddenly crouched down and urged us to stop with wave of his hand and a whispered, "Whoah, there, little brothers. I thinks I heard somethin'."

“Stop!” said Hidalgo, “What’s that sound?” “Everybody look what’s going down”, I said. And it was true.

Hidalgo's words were faint but audible at the far rear of the scattered formation where Tanner had taken up permanent, gloomy residence. "Gee I wonder if turtles can get rabies - everything else we've met seems to."

"My son..." The feeble pastor accompanying Hildalgo whispered, "...the dogwood!" He gestured with his good arm, in the direction of a lonely stand of trees. Not ten feet away, a box turtle struggled on its back, foam oozing from its reptilian maw. Then, without warning, twelve arrows split the silent, sun-filled morning, all seeking purchase in a white man's flesh. The scent of dogwoods filled the air.

Peg-Leg Richard was the first to fall. He motioned to Hidalgo to come to him, and whispered, "Hidalgo, I think I'm a boner." Hidalgo squinted at him. "That's GONER, Peg-Leg." "Oh yeah, right," said Leg. "Win one for the Gipper."

There, in the shadows of the dogwood glen, we fought like the rabid woodland creatures we had faced so often in our travels, frothing and growling. But even the bravest among us feared that this might be our final stand.

The desert tortoise was the last to die.

The End

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Thank you all for writing me a story, I adore you.

And by the way, I hold this truth to be self-evident:

That these United States are worthy of our love. Like any child, this young country of ours is bound to misbehave from time to time. It doesn't always listen, do what you want, do what you think it should.

But as parents love their child, so too should we never lose sight of how truly special it is; the incredible and unique things it has done. The incredible things it can do. How there were moments today, yesterday, every day, when it was absolutely beautiful. How proud it will make us if we care enough to continue to raise it.

As parents love their child... It's an old analogy I know, but an apt one I think.

"That all men are created equal." We wrote that down. Yes we've slipped in the implementation from time to time, and I don't mean to cast those slips inconsequential, because they weren't, aren't. But looking big picture-- you know, a history of the world type of view... Well, it was a remarkable document, and our ensuing attempts to adhere to its basic principles are every bit as.

Happy Independence Day America. Happy 4th of July.