The Quiet Turtle Society-Hate Got No Address

“Wat r dem injuns up to?” The fat man thinks to himself, he sees the caravan split from two in South Dakota to two more in Sioux Falls, one up I-29 and another into Minnesota. Strong Buffalo has two performances in Minneapolis, one at the American Indian Center for Indigenous Day and another at his monthly ‘Buffalo Show at Bryant Lake Bowl on Lake Street the third Tuesday of each month, this month is the Night of Blues with Corey Medina & Brothers. Strong Buffalo is performing with Dakota Blue & the Kodas’. The show goes well with a full house and he leaves tired, but excited that this show is getting better and he is looking so forward to next month show with Native American Music Award winner of Entertainer of 2017, Josh Halverson, Dakota from Lower Sioux Rez and the NBC Voice fame. He heads to his condo in St. Paul, as he closes his door, there is knock on his door, he didn’t even take off his coat, and in rushes six FBI agents, throw him to the floor and handcuff him. Read the warrant after miranda rights, wiretap fraud or something or another..”.what?”, he thinks to himself.   In walks two suits, one female and one male, the lead is the woman, she informs Strong Buffalo, “Homeland Security…blah, bla, bla…” take him to the airport, plane waiting, on her cellphone, “Yes, Sir, we got him, Thomas Strong Buffalo heading to airport, now” “Thomas, we arresting you under the ‘Patriots Act’, you understand that?” “No, what isn’t that for terrorists?” “Yes!” Silence, his breathing is labored, he breaks the impasse, “I ain’t ISIS or one of them!  And, I’m a Vet, but that ain’t why you arresting me, is it?” “That is not up to you, your caught and ours, now!”, says the lead agent.   “What? Yours?” Strong Buffalo shouts out!   “Just shut up and everything be okay. ” “No, way can this be happening to me, excuse my french, but what the f–k!   One of the agents hits him with a club, he hollers and is hit again, by two others, one is kicking him…his little white dog, a little bijon barks and barks, and he too is kicked, screams and hides, call someone to take that mutt to impound, probably got rabies or lice, damn this redskins, anyway, look at all this indian stuff, looks like a trading post. Gather it all up, might be something in there, investigation includes everything, papers, clothes, trinkets, “damn, indian got so much shit, pack rat, throw it in the boxes, take it down to headquarters, they will sort through it all. Only one old Indian and all this crap, we be here till morning packing all this stuff. A cell phone starts to buzz, should we answer it, thinks one of the agents, no, they said, no one is to know, check it, he thinks, oh, it’s from someone named ‘Fatz’,
“Can you believe one person can have this much stuff? It is going to take a truck to haul all this stuff! F–king  crap, damn savage.  In the back of unmarked car, with no lights on and the two suits from Homeland Security slowly driving to the airport, a short five minute drive from the Summit Hill district of Strong Buffalos’ home, there is a private leer jet waiting. “007 says, get him out to California right away. Nobody treats the bloody buffalo guy, or notices his face and head are bleeding, that he has a limp from the kicking, they just drag him and throw him around him, and put a bag over his head as they leave the tamrack heading to the airplane. Strong Buffalo is reminded of the Mass Execution of the 38 Dakota in 1862, all had their heads covered and tied together, they sang their death chants, said each others names, he began to sing, a dakota prayer song, low at first, then louder as tears near, as his breath was difficult, with his mild case of emphyemsa which, was beginning to bother him, he sang and sang, he knew the sun was rising that they had flew west, over South Dakota, over the black hills, over the badlands where he sun danced at MovesCamp, over the Rocky Mountains, he sang and sang, the female told him to shut up, he kept singing and singing, he could hear them laughing, he was handcuffed to seat and belly chained to both ankles, he just sang and sang, “tunkashila, wakan tanka…