Mosaic Spring 2016 | Page 72

I mean, if he had walked on, as they say. After we ate, I was tapped out, so there was no choice but to get these boys settled. I drove north and turned in by the new police station, going slow past a number of helter-skelter buildings. My recollection was that the headquarters of the tribe was somewhere in this cluster, and so I crept along in the truck, the boys whispering to one another. Stop, Fox yelled. There’ s Stupe. He rolled down the truck window. Stuuuuupe, he screamed! My ears rang. Hey, Redd Foxx, said a man who had a couple of kids in tow. There were other men and women around, along with children, and I realized that this must be the day care center. It was a low building, closed in on one side with a chain link fence, behind which were a couple of snow rimmed swing sets, an old, iron, school-yard merry-go-round and a few wooden cable spools turned on their sides. A few wet and muddy tricycles and toddler toys cluttered the walkway to the entrance. The boys strutted beside me after speaking with their friend. Once inside, they ran to the T. V. set that was in one corner of a big, open room. The place was overly warm and smelled like shit and sweat. Two women warily approached me. I explained things and then called to the boys. They’ re going to put you with your cousins, I told them. We want to stay with you, they yelled. What? I can’ t keep you. I thought about my own cabin; rough plank floor, cold in winter, hot in summer. Just a dump, really, not much better, if at all, than their grandpa’ s trailer. Besides, they’ d be better off with family. What do I know about taking care of kids, or anybody? Why not? You’ re nice, Abel said. He took care of my grandpa, he said to one of the day car workers. She ignored him. Yeah, he’ s nice, said Fox. But he still don’ t want us, a look of hurt and disappointment in his big, brown eyes. That’ s not true, I said.
Everybody was staring at me, including some extra kids who had come over to our little group. Are you a white man, one of the little kids asked? What was I supposed to say to that? He is, stupid, Fox said. He is not! This from Abel. The day care workers, several of whom didn’ t look all that Indian, smiled sardonically. What’ s that got to do with it? I squatted down and said to Abel and Fox, My place isn’ t very … You’ re going to stay with your relatives. It’ s best. Your grandpa probably would want it that way. He’ s dead, isn’ t he, said little Abel. I nodded. He stared in my eyes, a look of fear on his face. Jesus, I thought. This poor kid. Why did this happen? Yes, Abel, he’ s … walked on. He’ s dead, corrected Fox. I looked at Fox and he stared at me blankly. Forget you, said his eyes. I’ m sorry, Fox. I reached and touched his face, but he pulled away. You should go, said one of the women. OK. No! This from Abel. He tried to grab my leg, but Fox restrained him. Just go, said the woman. OK, OK, I’ m going. I walked out without looking back. I had a strange feeling, though. Like I should stay, that I was somehow responsible for what would happen to those two boys. I got in the truck and headed back up to the casino. I had to sell that rifle for sure now, because I had spent all the money I had in the world on hot dogs and what not. Oh, well. The gas gauge on the truck dipped lower. The casino was busy now that people were getting off work in the area, so the parking lot was packed. It was snowing. I parked around the side between two tourist buses, lucky to find even an illegal spot. I went inside through the bingo hall and made my way to the card tables. I looked around for my buddy, but was told that he had gone home early due to a death in the family. A death? I wondered, could he be related to the old man, the boys’ grandpa? Charlie Pine Marten, I asked. No, said one of his co-workers. His auntie. She shot herself. They just now found her. Just now, I asked? She nodded. Where? Where? Up by Charlie’ s. Beside the road. It was his girlfriend. Anyway, that’ s what they called her. She wasn’ t though. He just took her in. She was a little … cuckoo. You know? I was dizzy all of a sudden. Oh, shit. Are you sure? How do you know … I mean, if it just happened? I could feel my heart swelling, like it would explode. I couldn’ t catch my breath. She smiled knowingly. The rez grapevine, she said, the fastest means of communication there is, especially now that Indians have got cell phones. I panicked. Running straight out the front doors of the casino I headed toward the truck, bouncing shoulders against a crowd of down-staters who had come to spend their nickels and quarters. I almost knocked down an old man, and I had to hold onto him until he caught his balance. I got to the truck, jumped in, fumbled with the key for a minute, and finally started the engine. Then I thought about the rifle. I got out of the cab and went back and opened the tailgate. In my mind’ s eye I saw the old woman standing next to the truck back at Charlie’ s. Fuck. Fuck! My first stop was the tribal police station. It was brightly lit and smelled of new paint. Every surface in the joint from the floors to the plastic chairs gleamed. I asked if they had a suicide. Yeah, we got a suicide, one of the deputies, a white man, said. A woman. How’ d she …
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