6 July - Hollywood

Having acquired a horseless wagon made by the Cherokee nation called "Jeep," our band traveled over another mountain at the suggestion of the trading post proprietor.  My word!  The way Jeep accelerated was like nothing any of us had ever known.  290 horses powering Jeep made all the difference.  With Clark manning Jeep's wheel, we found our way into Hollywood, accompanied by the music of many trumpets.

We followed signs taking us into Hollywood.  I felt the township was wrongfully named.  Indeed there were no wooded forests, nor a single holly bush.   Instead, we were met with another busy township.   But as avid explorers, Clark hitched Jeep alongside other wagons and we followed the flow of people.

Soon we reached a pedestrian heavy walkway.  The road was lined with small shops which all appeared to sell the same items.  While Little Pomp was drawn to the colors and excitement, Sacagawea stopped suddenly in her steps.  She pointed to the ground beneath our feet.  Grave markers!  Up and down the walkway were grave markers!  Sacagawea panicked as she hurried into a nearby shop, pulling Little Pomp behind her.   Sacagawea said her people believe if you walk upon the grave of a man, you will be cursed, followed for eternity by the ghost your feet had wronged.  The anguish in her voice prompted Jean Baptise to join her.  Although Clark and I did not believe in such things, Sacagawea was so distraught, we felt we needed to join her.

While Jean Baptise comforted his wife, Little Pomp raced about the shop, interested in everything he laid his eyes upon.  I followed the boy as he stopped in front of a shirt from which he could not turn away.  A bright hue of blue, it had lettering engraved upon it in a brilliant silver which read, "I'm Famous."  He begged me to have it.  Myself unsure, Clark jumped in and said if his darling Little  Pomp wanted the garment, it would be so.

Clark took the shirt to the proprietor and demanded to know what the shirt was worth in coyote pelts.  The heavy-set woman observed Clark through suspicious eyes and told him the garment was $25.  She said she would take cash or "credit cards" for payment, no pelts.  Clark was infuriated by her unreasonable demands.  I grabbed ahold of Clark's shoulders to attempt to alleviate his mounting anger when an elderly woman stepped in.  Beneath her head of silver were soft eyes which subdued Clark.  She thought Little Pomp's current garb was delightful, perfect for her grandson back in Charlottesville, Virginia.  Near my childhood home!  The lovely woman offered a trade of the shirt Little Pomp was wearing for the $25 shirt.  I insisted to Clark it would be a perfect arrangement.  Little Pomp anxiously agreed, and removed his garment.  The woman gave $25 to the shop proprietor and handed the boy his new shirt.  Not since he had shot his first rabbit had Little Pomp smiled so widely.  We thanked the Virginian and returned to Sacagawea and Jean Baptise.

Sacagawea had calmed down considerably.  She then took notice of Little Pomp's new shirt.  She was concerned, as it was not representative of the Shoshone.  But while in the Spanish Territory, she agreed he had the right to wear the garments of the Spanish.

Now what lay before us was how to find a pathway in which not to walk upon the grave markers.

Until tomorrow, my friends.