Blogtober 2020 Day 16 Entry
Two weeks later, Murphy and Meadow sat together and watched as Phin played a game with a group of Osage boys. They had a racoon skin stuffed with cotton and sewn together. One side would try to run or throw the ball past a flag at the end of the field, while the other team tried to take the skin away and do the same.
Phin was bigger than the other boys, even those his same age, so whenever he had the skin, a swarm of boys converged upon him. He laughed and threw the skin down the field to a teammate standing all alone, scoring another easy point.
“He’s fitting in good here,” Meadow observed. “The other boys have accepted him.”
“Phin’s got a knack for getting on your good side,” Murphy said. “It comes natural to him.”
“I have accepted you,” Meadow said. “So has my father. He tells me you are a good student, a fast learner.”
“He is a good teacher,” Murphy said. “But I think he knows more English than he lets on.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Sometimes when I ask him for an English word in Osage, he answers me before I act it out.”
Meadow laughed. “I taught him English when I was little, of course,” she said. “He uses it when he has to, but he says the sound is ugly compared to Wazhazhe.”
“This life,” Murphy said. “It’s such a gift.” He held out his hand, and she took it.
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