The next afternoon, in the bus on the way back to Florida, I was sporting a bandaged forehead and a black eye. Everybody seemed to be considering it a... honorable badge, but I certainly didn't. It hurt like hell.The oddest part of the whole incident was how Frenchy loved to tell the story of how I had acquired my shiner. His embellishments each time the story was retold got a little embarrassing, but my teammates certainly seemed to enjoy them, laughing and encouraging him into telling the tale. So when they finally admitted that I wasn’t really theirs, I wanted to know who the hell I was, and they told me they thought I was Cherokee and my real mother was a young girl who had tossed me in a dumpster and left me to die.’ I angrily brushed a tear from the corner of my eye. ‘Oh, Jacky-love. I don’t believe that for an instant.’ ‘Neither do I. A couple of years ago I took off and hitch-hiked to Tahlequah for the annual Cherokee Homecoming. First time I ever felt like I belonged somewhere.. More

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