Powwow Polaroid
We were fancydancing, you see.
Step-step, right foot, step-step, left foot, faster, twisting,
turning, spinning, changing.
There are photographs taken but only one ever captured
the change.
It was a white tourist from Spokane. She was lucky,
she was quick, maybe it was film developed by the CIA.
She took the picture, the flashbulb burned,
and none of us could move. I was frozen between steps,
my right foot three inches off the ground,
my mouth open and waiting to finish the last sound.
The crowd panicked. Most fled the stands, left the dancers
not dancing and afraid. The white woman with the camera
raised her arms in triumph, crossed her legs at the ankle,
tilted her head to one side.
My four-hundred pound aunt wept into the public address
system. My uncle held his great belly in his hands,
walked among the fancydancers,
said this:
"forgiveness".
Sherman Alexie........from Old Shirts & New Skins
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