A Native American woman remembers how when she was a child her father would hide the knobs on the television. She and her brother’s alternative form of entertainment was to listen to her great-grandfather’s stories. 

The one she remembers here is the story of how her great-grandfather, her Mooshum, ran away with her great-grandmother. Her family has a long history of great romantic encounters, and her Mooshum is no exception. 

When Mooshum was twelve, his brother forced him to serve in the Catholic church. Where they lived, millions of doves would fly everywhere. They were especially a hassle in the fields, where the women worked, since they would get caught in skirts. One day, Mooshum hid his face behind a candelabra to avert his eyes from the women thrashing in their skirts, and a dove fell from the sky and hit him on the head. His future wife, Junesse, also twelve at the time, was working in the fields and came over to nurse his head. Before they even knew each other’s names, they had run away from their lives together. 

They lived off the land for a while, until a woman on horseback, Maude, found them. She brought them back to her farm and cared for them until they were sixteen. She then held a spectacular wedding dinner for them. However, neighbors were upset that she held a wedding for Indians, so they drunkenly came over to lynch Mooshum. Maude scared them away (the story of how changes depending on when Mooshum tells it), and tells them to ride back the way they came. They ride back to their reservation and raise their family there. Right before they left, Maude handed them the candelabra they had kept with them all this time.

Mooshum’s great-granddaughter compares this story to her own romantic encounter — her first love in elementary school. She kissed the boy she had a crush on, and instead of feeling happy, she felt uncertain.