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Mudcreek (standard:non fiction, 2734 words)
Author: Rich EubanksAdded: Mar 07 2007Views/Reads: 2340/1542Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Anyone who has read, or seen, any of my books in print might wonder, 'why the coyotes'? This is just a little, true, story of why I designed this logo and name for my writing.
 



Anumpa Ikbi In the Native American Choctaw language this means The
Storyteller. 

I was born in southern Oklahoma in the same town and the same year that
Roy Rogers and Dale Evans got married.  Although I spent most of my 
school years in Norman I always considered Ringling my hometown.  I 
guess mostly because I'm related to just about everyone there.  I've 
always joked that my parents moved to Norman so that my sister, 
Jennifer, and I could legally date. 

I chose Anumpa Ikbi as my writer's logo primarily because of my Choctaw
ancestry but also because of my feelings of connection, sort of a 
totem, with the coyote.  There is no Choctaw word for coyote so I 
created the idea of the storyteller coyote. 

This connection really began from a story that my mother told.  This
happened before I was old enough to remember so it's totally from my 
memory of her story. 

Ringling and several other small towns nearby are known as the mud creek
community because of their proximity to Mud Creek, thus, the title to 
this short story. 

Mud Creek 

“Where's Mike?”  Christine asked as Dewey came through the squeaky back
screen door alone. 

“Don, don't know,” Dewey stuttered and looked confused, hesitated to get
his thoughts connected to his next words, then finished, “not with 
you?” 

Dewey Eubanks had a problem with talking.  After being hit with a mortar
at Iwo Jima almost as soon as his platoon had landed on the island, 
he'd fallen getting back onto the ship and severely injured his head.  
His right arm had been nearly severed by the mortar and he pretty much 
carried it with his left hand on his long trip back to the shuttle boat 
and to the ship.  Walking with his good arm holding his wounded arm 
left him just enough off balance that the blood and water slicked deck 
made keeping his footing impossible.  When he fell he was unable to 
protect his head at all.  After months in the VA hospital in Oklahoma 
City where his arm was reattached reasonably well he transferred to the 
Naval Base south of Norman.  He sent for and married his hometown 
sweetheart Christine Folsom.  For months Christine lived in an 
apartment while Dewey was convalescing on base.  Then they finally 
moved to Ardmore, closer to home, where Dewey got a good job as an Air 
Traffic Controller.  They planned, and had, a beautiful daughter, 
Jennifer, and even began building their dream house.  Dewey and 
Christine made a very handsome young couple.  He was beneficiary to a 
strong jaw and penetrating blue eyes from his English/Irish ancestors.  
He wasn't as tall as some of his brothers but his physical conditioning 
made him just as appealing.  Christine had somehow avoided the typical 
Choctaw appearance that most of her siblings and parents displayed.  
Instead, her light hair and blue eyes went well with her trim figure 
and 5' 2” height.  Jennifer seemingly had inherited the best of both 
and the small family was definitely a picture of envy in the Ardmore 
community of 1947.  Then in 1948 they added a son, Richard Michael, to 
their family. 

In 1950 the old injuries created a new hurdle.  Dewey suffered massive
brain hemorrhaging likely due to the head injury on the ship.  After 
months back in the VA hospital in Oklahoma City, a real strain had been 
placed on the marriage and the relationship between Christine and 
Dewey's families in Ringling.  But now he was finally home.  The 
massive strokes had injured his brain making the challenge to 
communicate very frustrating.  But Dewey was finally back with his 
family. 

“He left with you Dewey.”  Christine looked worried at first then her
expression turned to a combination of anger and panic. She was tired of 
all the work, tired of all the worries, and tired of wearing dresses 
made from the sacks the livestock feed came in.  Her frustrations burst 
out.  “He's only two, where is he?” 

“No,” Dewey returned anger with anger, “not with me.” 


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