Brave Beginnings by Ruth Ann Nordin

things going on around him. He took a deep breath and steeled
his resolve. He was a hunter, well trained and strong. A few stares
wouldn’t hurt him.
    They reached the store she mentioned, and she
smiled at him. “I have to wait for you to open the door.”
    He obeyed, not thinking to ask why until they
were already inside the store and being greeted by a middle-aged
man.
    “Good morning,” the man greeted. “How can I
help you today?”
    “My husband needs some clothes,” Julia
said.
    The man nodded. “Then you came to the right
place.” He laughed and looked at Chogan. “Do you speak
English?”
    Chogan was surprised. Not only did the man
seem sincere in his kindness but he also asked Chogan the question
in the Mandan tongue. “You speak Mandan,” Chogan said in his native
tongue.
    “My grandmother was Mandan. You wouldn’t know
it to look at me. No one gets any whiter than me.” He held up his
pale hands and chuckled. “My sister has darker skin though. I
always thought it was fascinating that we looked different since we
came from the same family. But it is what it is. God has a purpose
for everything.”
    Realizing that Julia was staring at them,
Chogan turned to her. “He speak Mandan. Nice man.”
    Julia’s smile widened. “That’s wonderful.” To
the man, she added, “I don’t speak it at all.”
    “I grew up learning English and Mandan,” the
man replied. “My grandmother and mother insisted on it.”
    “He has Mandan grandmother,” Chogan
added.
    “My grandmother hasn’t been to the tribe in
forty years,” the man said.
    Julia furrowed her eyebrows. “Why not?
Bismarck is not that far.”
    “She lives a good distance out with my mother
and father.”
    Chogan sensed there was more to it than that
but respected the man’s need for privacy. Some things were best
kept within the family. But the man and his family intrigued him.
He was the product of a union between a Mandan woman and a white
man, and he had his own store. It probably helped that he was
white. “Where is your sister?” Chogan asked in Mandan.
    “She’s married to a farmer. They don’t live
too far from our parents.”
    “Is her husband white?”
    The man’s gaze grew thoughtful. “He is a
half-breed, like her.”
    “Are there lots of half-breeds?”
    “Very few in town but further out, there are
more. It’s easier to be away from a lot of people.”
    Chogan understood the man’s meaning and
couldn’t help but agree. He glanced at Julia and wondered if their
children might find others who’d be like them to find companionship
with. The future was still a ways off for such thoughts but he
already knew the world would treat them differently. He wondered if
Julia realized this. There was hope though. People like Anthony who
owned this store and grew up in this situation would be willing to
welcome the children he and Julia would have.
    “I need job,” Chogan told him, this time
speaking in English. “A good employer.”
    “What did you do at the tribe?” the man
asked.
    “Hunt. I good hunter.”
    The man scratched his head. “Well... A
butcher could always use fresh meat.”
    Chogan nodded. It made sense.
    “I know where the butcher is,” Julia spoke
up. “I can take you there.”
    “You should make sure you get a haircut
first,” Anthony warned Chogan. “I’ll get you fitted up with some
clothes. You’re taller than most of my customers, but I have a
couple who require longer pants so I have a pair in stock.”
    Chogan wondered if he could hunt in his
clothes and change into the white man’s clothes when he brought his
game to the butcher. But that was assuming he’d get the job.
    The process of getting new clothes was
painless, though the jeans the man gave him felt restrictive. He
didn’t care much for it and vowed he’d make it a habit of wearing
his deerskin pants when at home. The boots were also hard, not soft
like the moccasins he was accustomed to. The cotton button up shirt
was