Apache
"I never really liked school...," he says,
squatting in the aisle of the Greyhound bus
as we cross the state line of Arizona by night
on the way to L.A. (when, as the sign appears
off the highway saying Welcome to Arizona
a familiar old ache seems to rise from somewhere
deep within, like the cry of a wounded animal).
Full-blooded Apache,he says - Jicarilla, from
New Mexico - red bandanna tied around his head,
blue Levi's jacket, long black hair trailing down.
About thirty or thirty-five. "So I just dropped
out," he says, "quit school to go out and see
America for myself...."
"...There's nothin out there, man...."
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