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  Praise for

  ULYSSES DREAM

  A bold and deeply personal novel about real life drama that few really think about. To many of us life cannot help but seem humdrum and boring but the reality is that life in the real world can be deadly, dramatic, and full of fiery adventure. And yet this same life can be impossibly romantic. Through Penelope’s eyes we understand the experience of thousands of girls who are kidnapped and become statistics of human trafficking. Through the courageous intervention of a young girl, she escapes and ends up living with other children in the Teguciligapa city dump. Her hero is Ulysses a Nez Perce boy raised in the rugged Wallowa mountains in Eastern Oregon. Where he and his six brothers and their Beauceron dog have many adventures even being hunted by a monstrous bear. Ulysses and Penelope fall into sweet romance as teenagers. Both are marginalized people who are torn apart when Ulysees must go to Vietnam in 1968. His quest to win his true love back takes him through the worst of Vietnam and a struggle of professional football and the Olympics. Penelope and her son Telemachus are left alone to work towards the miracle of US citizenships all the while avoiding the retribution of the international gang to whom she once was a slave. The ending will both surprise and inspire you as you will experience a powerful paradigm shift giving you new insights into human trafficking, and immigration. You will see American Latino’s and native Americans and their patriotism in a new light through this timeless story of indomitable love.

  Excerpt -

  “I (Penelope) was his worst nightmare-a former victim who had strength that he never imagined. I followed their trail as a Nez Perce. I was not going to let these men continue to impose their evil ways on little children any longer. I could hear war drums. I took mud and put the stripes of war paint on my face.”

  Tim White is well known as an intense crusader for the marginalized.He is the author of two other books To Dreamers Long Forgotten published in 1997 and Astoundingly Joyful amazingly Simple published in 2012. He is the senior pastor of Washington Cathedral in Redmond, Washington. He is an adjunct professor at Northwest University. Tim White was raised in the Wallowa Mountains he has a B.A. in research psychology with a minor in history from Eastern Washington University. A Masters of Divinity from George Fox University in Portland, Oregon. A doctorate of ministry from Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena and has studied Archeology at Jerusalem University in Jerusalem Israel.

  “I appreciate how this fictional story addresses the realities of brokenness in our world. Orphans and vulnerable children are those who pay the highest price for our social problems despite not causing them or without any ability to solve them. This books offers us hope of a better world. “

  —Dr. Rey Diaz Executive Director of Orphan Outreach

  “Ulysses Dream is a fictional novel intertwining true historical military events with romance, sports, social issues, and adventure. Although the story told is fictional, it incorporates many, many factual elements. I have been to the Honduras dump six times and personally witnessed the conditions described in the book. As a retired police officer and someone actively involved in the ongoing fight against Human Trafficking, this story tells of events that no one really wants to hear about but everyone needs to know of because it is happening everywhere.”

  —Retired Seattle Police Detective Karen Haverkate

  “I hope this novel helps people understand the drama that many of us lived through in Vietnam. We were there because we cared for the people and honored our country. I hope that the next generation will catch a sense of heart felt American patriotism that our soldiers feel when called upon to live an adventure they did not choose.”

  —Marine Colonel (ret) Erskine Austin, two tours in Vietnam. Received 21 medals while in Vietnam

  “‘Truth,’ we are often told, ‘is stranger than fiction.’ But sometimes fiction tells strange truths more deeply than a mere recitation of facts could ever do. As pastor of one of America’s most ethnically diverse churches, Tim White has deeply listened to the truths of thousands, told in every accent and in living color. Out of those stories, he has woven a mystical fiction that will awaken truths that readers have never dared to confront.”

  —Joseph Castleberry, Ed.D. | President of Northwest University

  “A compelling story with the blending of two people from two different Native American people groups. Tim White nailed it describing the native heart, mind and family culture. “

  —Chief Chet McVey

  “After more than two decades of listening to Dr. Tim White’s stories, I found reading his novel was a pleasure. One of the greatest storytellers and visionaries that I ever met has produced a novel with characters that are fallible and yet most strive to not only improve themselves but also the world they live in. As told through the eyes of a successful elderly Honduran woman, of her husband’s (Ulee) life from a patriotic Vietnam veteran, football athlete, and passionate minister. This novel covers some difficult subjects and in a very difficult time in America’s history, the book is loaded with entertaining accounts of events that is committed to providing its readers with a glimpse of the way our world could be and probably should be.”

  —Lieutenant Colonel (ret) Bill Zappone U.S Army Reserve

  Ulysses Dream:

  A Timeless Romance

  by Tim White

  © Copyright 2016 Tim White

  ISBN 978-1-63393-294-4

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other – except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters are both actual and fictitious. With the exception of verified historical events and persons, all incidents, descriptions, dialogue and opinions expressed are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Published by

  210 60th Street

  Virginia Beach, VA 23451

  800-435-4811

  www.koehlerbooks.com

  The book is dedicated to my granddaughters,

  Isabela Diaz and Evangelin McCary

  To my daughters, Elise Diaz and Becca McCary

  To my wife Jackie Ann White

  And to my mom Elizabeth Jane White

  These strong women have taught me the importance

  of heroic women if injustice in this world is

  ever going to be challenged.

  Special thanks to my younger brother James Floyd

  White who told me to write this book, and to my

  friends Rod and Randy Halvorson the two longest

  surviving patients battling Duchenne muscular

  dystrophy. The courage that they have brought to

  bear on their challenge inspires so many and tells me

  that if not for this dreaded disease they could have

  been world-class athletes. Both of them have been

  world-class coaches. Through the power of fiction we

  get to play with this fantasy.

  Author’s note

  Is there nothing new under the sun? Since the dawn of time broken people, families, racial groups, language, and ethnic groups have been migrating around this planet. These massive immigrations have been met with unfathomable conflict. Cataclysmic collisions of people and ideas have resulted in horrible injustice and heroic moments for humanity. Each opposing side has some legitimate motivation searching for safety and prosperity for their families. And of course there have always been apex predators taking advantage of the weak in such perilous seasons of human history.

  This work of fiction is about such times. It is about those who would dare to stand up to
others who would prey on the vulnerable. These heroes are the stuff of legends. Civilizations and cultures melt away under the pressure of this momentous struggle. And yes, there are love stories in the midst of such unfathomable complexities. These stories have been, for the most part, passed down through storytelling around campfires. Through these campfire myths we often find our identity, our morality, and our way into the promising future. This dramatic folklore is where new generations find a fresh sense of authentic faith, patriotism, and inspiration to confront the overwhelming challenges in today’s world.

  This book is based upon real legends and real people. Some of the characters are real in name and deed; others are imagined or composites of several personalities. Some feats in these stories really happened and others are exaggerations or imagined. The places where these characters dwelled are real, as is their historical significance. This is storytelling as it was in the days of the Greeks—mystical.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  The Cabin

  Chapter One

  Seven Brothers

  Chapter Two

  My Odyssey

  Chapter Three

  Ithaca

  Chapter Four

  Sundowns

  Chapter Five

  The Trojan Horse

  Chapter Six

  Ulee’s Stand

  Chapter Seven

  Odyssey of Ulysses

  Chapter Eight

  Trapped with Calypso

  Chapter Nine

  Return to Attica

  Chapter Ten

  Game of Heroes

  Chapter Eleven

  The Past Invades the Present

  Chapter Twelve

  Courageous Path of Love

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Hero as Archetype

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Vengeance of Telemachus

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  The Cabin

  IN AN ARCHAIC timber lodge, I sit through arthritic pain as the native children beg for a story. Everyone grows silent with anticipation, lulled by the popping fire. The older kids listen from the lodge loft. Adult family members gather closer, and everyone grows silent. They have all heard my stories before, some about the most ancient times, others of nearer generations of our people. I am always tempted to start from the beginning, the earliest days where mythology and fact mingle.

  Each time, my audience listens intently, culling little facts they may have missed at earlier tellings. The smell of ponderosa pine smoke fills the lodge, its heat sizzling venison steaks, and warming sweet corn, fry bread, and huckleberry dessert. The roar of the mighty Wallowa River fills the background like a soundtrack. This trappers’ lodge is the oldest structure on the river, sitting at the head waters of picturesque blue-green Lake Wallowa in Eastern Oregon. A festive, feathered headdress, shield, and lance hang in one corner of the lodge. An old 45-70 government Winchester 1886 rifle is mounted over the fireplace with a feather at one end of the leather sling. It was Ephraim Sundown’s hunting rifle, the patriarch of our family. Next to it are his spurs and the silver bridle he had won at the Elgin Rodeo when he was young. These walls are lined with history and tradition: skins of cougar, wolf, bear, and the antlers of bison, elk, and deer. Crossing Marine sabers bring us forward. Next to them are medals and pictures of three generations of Nez Perce who had fought in the US Marine Corps.

  The boulder shores of the roaring Wallowa River outside our lodge door are covered by the shadow of towering granite Mount Joseph, Mt. Howard, and Mt. Bonneville. Mt. Joseph is named after Chief Joseph, Mt. Howard after the general that pursued him, and Mt. Bonneville after the French-born officer who was an early leader of the US into Nez Perce country. The mountains symbolize the enemies of the noble Chief Joseph respected by his enemies and called the Red Napoleon. Mt. Joseph is surrounded by his opponents Howard and Bonneville. For generations, the family has bathed and taken its drinking water from this river; we have caught trout from this roaring source of life.

  There is no running water in the log lodge. The cold box was a screened-in area outside, kept cold by the weather. The outhouse is down the path; it’s well built and doesn’t smell too bad. The fireplace is made from river rocks. A ladder leads to the loft where the youngest children slept in warmth. A chest is at the back of the loft, and it was full of medals, dress blues, and pictures of generations of the Nez Perce Sundown family.

  On the wall of the cabin hang Uncle Grant’s track shoes. He was the fastest kid at LaGrande High School when he was a boy, and he won a scholarship to SMU to compete on their track team. Also there is the basketball of Caleb, which he was awarded for scoring one thousand points at State College Eastern Oregon; the naval hat of Howard for his service in WWII; and Roy’s badge when he worked for the FBI. There are bows, rugby equipment, and canoe paddles.

  This log cabin was given to the Sundown family by the Methodist church for our grandfather Rev. Ephraim’s work in pioneering its church camp there. It is now our gathering place, our retreat where we reconnect with each other, ourselves, and spirits past. Our band of Nez Perce is made up of in-laws, cousins, and nephews, not to mention adopted family members. I am an elder in this family and a beloved storyteller. The family history lives in me and it is my responsibility to keep it alive. My voice is deep, resonant, and my Spanish accent from my early days in Honduras still lives. My name is Penelope.

  Our lineage has spawned many warriors. I look at the anxious faces and see my ancestors staring at me. I see our roots in their eyes, the shapes of their jaws, the color of their skin. These are my people, the descendants of ancient nomadic African tribes, Mayans, and Native American warriors who long ago settled in the Americas.

  I begin my storytelling with the Greeks. Our family enjoys classic literature. “Odysseus in Latin means Ulysses,” I remind them. “He was a great warrior who left their home for ten years to do battle. Ulysses was bewitched in the arms of a sorceress. His fellow warriors were killed; he was tortured. His wife and family thought Ulysses was dead.” I go on. “He was a hero, and his adventure is a path that guides all cultures and civilizations through similar hopeless paths to fight for love, home, and country when nothing seems to make sense,” I say.

  I’m interrupted, just as I thought I would be.

  “Not that ancient story,” shout the children. “Tell us one about our people and your life.”

  I react coyly, trying to look serious and mysterious. My looks suggest both. I am an old woman with long grey hair, dark skin, and dancing brown eyes. I try not to smile. I knew Ulysses was not the story they wanted to hear. It’s too distant; too abstract. I tell it anyway to stress our common roots with all civilizations.

  “Oh, you want the story of my life and our people,” I say slyly.

  My father-in-law Caleb takes his queue and begins to pound the drum softly to the beat of a human heart. He is setting the cadence that will lull the group into the journey as if their hearts were beating as mine had. My mother-in-law Elizabeth begins to play the plains flute, made of maple, and this skilled artisan warbles back and forth between harmonic pitches, casting a vision of ancient times. The mood is set; this storytelling craftsmanship is as old as time. My eyes widen with excitement and glisten with tears as memories surface. I begin, again.

  “Some say Ulysses Looking Glass Sundown was a great warrior.” The drum beats softly.

  “Men of honor called him a hero—men of dishonor branded him a traitor.”

  “Christians say he was a mighty man of faith.” The drumbeat continues but becomes unnoticed. “But he was always on the edge of quitting formal religion.”

  “Even his enemies reported that he fought with chivalry and indomitable persistence.” The atmosphere works its magic.

  “All Natives claim him as a hero: A light—a path to follow into the next century.”

  The drumbeat grows bolder, the smoke smells sweeter, the shadows in the lodge become more e
nthralling, and pine logs pop and sparkle, making the lights dance over the memories in the lodge.

  “People scour his life, looking for answers, explanations, for dirt, for hope, for the way out of the quagmire that lies before our whole nation.” The kids begin to smile and the adults nod their heads with twinkling eyes.

  “But I just say he was simply the love of my life.”

  My voice soothes almost to a whisper as the story unfolds. My still-lingering Spanish accent emerges more pronounced. Each telling brings me back; and each telling is the same, but different, depending on the listener.

  Chapter One

  Seven Brothers

  THE CHILDREN ARE settled, now. The adults relax and focus silently, as if watching a movie in a theater. If a young one begins to speak she receives a hush.

  I continue, speaking of the lands, of places, our ancestors and their traditions. I speak of the boys, some grandchildren of Ephraim:

  Silence in the woods is always terrifying. The mighty ponderosa pine and hundreds of majestic old ferns scented the forest with an ancient smell dating back to Mesozoic existence. Silence at dawn in this mountain meadow meant something—feelings and facts noted by the native boy.

  No chattering of chipmunks, no cawing of blue jays, and no busy noise of insects in the early morning light. This silence led to a conclusion the oldest boy feared, but knew all too well: they were likely in the territory of an apex predator. The oldest brother deduced that it could be a man—the most dangerous of all predators. But it most likely was a cougar. They often shared the Wallowa Valley with the mountain lion. It could also be a pack of wolves or a black bear. Dealing with these predators required caution, and the training that their dads and uncles had given them growing up in this wild land. The native boys were covered in light beads of sweat even though they only wore the Nez Perce loincloth when making their daily run in the woods. The boys also wore their Native American bone chokers made from turquoise and bones. An eagle’s feather was woven into their long hair. Each wore a gift from their grandfather strapped around their waists: a handmade, bone-handled bowie knife for protection from backcountry threats. They wore Converse sneakers, essential for the long runs. Little packs of deer-skinned pants and jackets were tied around their waists. The older boys had scarring on their pectoral muscles from their sun dance, which proved their manhood. They had danced in the sun until they tore their flesh with an elk bone. This tradition was borrowed from the Lakota and was part of the Sundown family. It was how a boy proved he would be a warrior pledged to protect his tribe. The older boys carried homemade recurve bows with a quiver of arrows. The younger boys ran with light bows that seemed like practice toys for being a warrior. Ten miles every morning was the assignment by their grandfather Ephraim. While in the high mountains, the boys were accompanied by the family dog, given to them by Ephraim. He was a Methodist minister and shepherd. The dog protected his flock of offspring.