Ghost Dance
by
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Ghost Dance Excerpt - (from Chapter 10) ....Kyle Hansen looked at Ginny Foster, pleased. “How did you and Harley meet, anyway?” “I sold real estate in Great Falls the year Harley coached his state championship high school football team. We met at the TV station where he hosted a weekly sports program.” “You looked at him? You knew?” “He had sort of a brooding attraction. He still does, though you may not have noticed.” “I noticed that you are taller than he is.” “So? Because you’re tall, you feel superior?” “I’ll bet you’re smarter than him.” “I’m smarter than most men.” She swept Kyle with her brown gaze. “A dollar says you seduced him.” “That’s none of your business. Who was the first woman you ever slept with?” It seemed on this day a natural question, and Kyle considered. “Betty Amundson moved to Hightown from dry, lost Jordan in eastern Montana. She wore tight, fuzzy sweaters. I was a senior; she was a junior. We eyed each other in the high school hallways, but we did not speak.” “She was mute?” “Shy,” Kyle said. “I was too, in my bumbling way.” “Who broke the silence?” “In May, one of the first warm nights that year, I saw her walking up Main Street and offered her a ride home. She got in my car. I asked if she might sneak out later, not thinking she would. ‘Come back at eleven-thirty,’ she said.” “She spoke.” “It felt ordained. I parked at her house in the shadows away from the streetlights, still not thinking she would actually do it. I saw her slide out a window. We drove out the highway toward Great Falls and I chose a road -- lucky choice -- that ended in the world’s softest, grassiest field. I had a blanket.” “Ah,” Ginny said. “I said there were six steps that married people followed. I had never speculated on this before; don’t ask me where it came from. Step one, the kiss -- we did. Step two, admiration, meaning I must fondle her breasts. She did not prevent me. Step three, remove the sweater. I did, she wore a pointy, white brassiere.” Ginny nodded and shifted position. “She lay on her back, the grass high all around, and her hair looked wispy-silver in the moonlight. I especially remember that.” “’Wispy-silver.’ I can see that, too,” Ginny said. “Step four, remove the brassiere. Trembly, perky breasts; dusky, darkish nipples.” Ginny snorted. “Whoa. You’re out of control.” “Step five, remove the skirt and panties.” “Now what’s she doing?” “She’s quiet. She’s looking up at me.” “Knowing full well what step six will be.” “I must be frank,” Kyle said. “At step five Betty Amundson stayed my hand. We never reached that golden moment. Her family moved away that summer and I never saw her again.” “So. It wasn’t your first time?” “No. My actual first time occurred with a skinny girl from Juneaux Street under our backyard bushes.” Ginny grimaced. “You’re right, best to stick with the Betty Amundson story.” “Tell me about your first time.” Ginny spoke softly: “I loved the feeling of ‘Will he or won’t he?’ I loved it when the boy stroked my breasts and just above and just below my panty lines. I liked the suspense: if he did, would I? Sometimes -- this was later -- I liked being on top; you know, the deeper penetration.” “That’s zestier than the stuff I offered,” Kyle said. “There’s something to be said for frankness.” They descended now toward the river. “Long winters, little towns,” Kyle mused. “A lot of the girls I knew in high school couldn’t wait to leave.” “I grew up in Cut Bank where it’s flat and the wind blows. I wanted to go to Vassar, but I got a scholarship to Northern Montana College. I got a job and I met Harley.” “I liked Bozeman. I told you I worked as a reporter for the Chronicle. Glenda and I liked to explore. We’d drive through Rogers Pass and stop at Trixie’s in Ovando for a beer. We talked about staying in Bozeman after she graduated.” “What happened?” “Another woman. Idiocy on my part. It was Glenda I wanted.” “Last week I walked in on Harley and another woman in the Brick Breeden Fieldhouse. He’s got a couch in his office. He forgot to lock the door.” “Harley, at the school?” Kyle said inanely. “Doing...?” “Yes. A compromising situation. What is it with you guys, anyway?” Kyle scrambled to assemble some thoughts. “We need to prove that we’re irresistible to women...” # # #
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About the Book
GHOST DANCE, About the Book Recently divorced, hoping to jumpstart his journalistic career at the prestigious Washington Herald, Kyle Hansen returns to Montana to write a series of articles on the upcoming Lewis and Clark Bicentennial, and on his first day back he meets Ginny Foster, the tall, striking wife of a football coach he hated. Pursue, Kyle thinks, for lust, for revenge, but he has only two weeks. Then five whites assault two Indian kids in a bar and in retaliation the Blackfoot Tribe blockades roads in and out of Glacier Park. Kyle’s editor, Jack Levanthal, assigns him to stay and cover the story. Kyle wanders haunted battlefields. He seeks a mysterious holy road. He climbs a sacred mountain and alone on its summit performs the legendary ghost dance. He asks to see his dead brother again. Kyle’s college football teammate, Salmon Thirdkill, school principal on a God forsaken Indian reservation, becomes dangerously involved. Someone masterminds a series of cattle killings. Politicians mangle things. Magnetism propels Kyle and Ginny together. Violence rears. Choices must be made. Sports, Kyle learns, can break your heart.
About the Author
GHOST DANCE, ABOUT THE AUTHOR Ken Byerly lived the territory described in his novel, GHOST DANCE. He came of age in Lewistown, Montana, played football and basketball at the state university and graduated with a degree in journalism. As editor of the Tidewater News in Franklin, Virginia, Ken won awards from the Virginia Press Association for editorial, news, feature and sports writing. He specialized in politics and civil rights as a reporter for the Washington Post in Washington D. C. and for Newsday in the New York City area. He traveled a year in Europe, on meager funds. Returned to New York, he wrote the original book for the musical Cowboy, based on the life of Western painter Charles M. Russell, which played briefly in small theaters in the metropolitan area. Ken subsequently became a stockbroker in New York City. He retired relatively early and with his wife, Priscilla, returned to Montana for three years, where they skied and hiked and he researched the sites and events described in GHOST DANCE. He and Priscilla now live in Vermont, where Priscilla for several years taught Spanish at the University of Vermont in Burlington. With her help, Ken recently completed a multi-year hike of the 2,200-mile Applachian trail.