Black Apple

[Posted at on October 2, 2016  at approximately 4pm:]

Rose kept her eyes on the nun at the front of the line, the questioner with the glasses and lined face. That nun asked each girl her name, her words sounding different from the way the other nuns said them, turned up at the edges. The questioner wasn’t tall like the young one next to her. Not fat like the one sitting in the chair. But she held her head up, like she was in charge. And her headdress, Rose could see, was different from the others’—black where theirs were white, white where theirs were black. She was chief, all right, the “Mother General” she had heard the other nuns talk about as they scrubbed, shoved, and snipped her.

Her turn now. “Your name?”

“Ro-ose,” she stuttered. At least that wouldn’t be changed like Indian names of those two other girls. English names weren’t changed, Mama had said. That’s why her official name was Rose, though her real name was Sinopaki, which meant kit fox.

“Rose,” the chief nun repeated, her eyes behind the glasses sky-bright. Or like a bluebottle fly. “That’s certainly not a biblical name.”

Rose bit her lip against the throb of tears.

The long-bone nun sprang forward. “I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys,” she blurted.

The Mother General glanced up at the tall sister. “Ah, yes. Song of Solomon.” She closed her eyes and went inside herself.

Everyone watched, and Rose sucked her lip. The girls behind started shuffling. The fat name changer moved, making her chair shiver.

Suddenly a new nun grew out of the space beside the shivering chair. Rose blinked, but there she was, young, as young as the tall one nearby, but this one’s skirt was bunched around her waist, showing the bottom part of her legs, her narrow ankles and bare feet. The new nun leaned against the wall, watching them all with a fed-up look, her headdress crooked.

Then Mother General made a throat noise and opened her blue eyes, and when Rose looked aback, the new nun was melting away. Gone!

(Black Apple, a novel, Joan Crate, page 21)

October 2, 2016. About Me. The above is an excerpt from the book I am currently reading. It’s about a Catholic school for Blackfoot girls, run by the Sisters of Brotherly Love, in Canada, during and after World War II. From what I’ve read so far, the novel portrays a balanced view of the girls, and the nuns-a look at both sides of the story.

I never really thought about American Indians, until I read a series of articles about Indians, published in Awake! magazine in the year 1995. Prior to reading the articles, all I knew about Indians was what I’d seen on television shows. Cowboys and Indians shows where basically the cowboys were the good guys and the Indians were the bad guys.

In the year 2007 my youngest grandson and I went to visit the National Museum of the American Indian, in the old Customs building, One Bowling Green, Wall Street area. A Talbot advertisement featuring an African Ameican boy was one of the advertisements displayed on the sidewalk. I cannot remember for what reason I did not take a picture. Maybe my camera had run out of film by the time I saw the advertisement, or maybe I was not yet taking pictuers, I cannot remember.

Yesterday a young white blond female purchased a pack of American Spirit brand cigarettes in the deli. She and her blond friend were in the deil. I thhink they recently moved to an apartment in the building next door. Today an empty pack of American Spirit cigarettes was showcased in front of Jehovah’s Witnesses’ residence on in Brooiklyn Heights on Clark Street between Hicks Street and Willow Street. After the meeting on my way to the subway I took a tissue and picked up the empty cigarette pack and threw it in the garbage.

When I walked out of the deli the young white female who had purchased the pack of American Indian brand cigarettes,walked by with her friend, both of them friendly. Yesterday she had explained to me, when I asked, that, that brand is not as harmful as the other brands. On my way back to my room coincidentally I saw Miriam. I cannot remember if Miriam is Cherokee or Mohawk, I cannot remember. I do remember though, that, she is a primary plaintiff in a legal case against Berkshire Hathaway, Verizon, and other corporations including and most especially, the Mormon church. And so is Martha,the resident in this corridor, and the female whom I asked if I could take a picture of her RHOW t-shirt. (A similar acronym is a racist organization for Aryan women, the exact name of which I cannot remember; the information has been taken off the internet, or is well hidden.) The two blond FBI agents, one of the two wearing a red farmers plaid jacket today, are now also plaintiffs.

[Mormon church response, October 2, 2016, 8pm EST:]

THE NEW 2017 GRAND CHEROKEE, October 2, 2016 8pm EST
futures-100216-wearnodoubts, October 2, 2016 8pm EST