Roy pulled the door to Johnny’s room shut softly, so as not to awaken him.  He turned to find two wide-eyed girls in the hallway, staring at him as if he were on fire.  While the girls appeared healthy, they were both too thin for their frames.  He wondered how old they were.  As they continued to stare in fearful amazement, he figured the only white men they had likely ever seen weren’t as friendly as he was.  He knelt down in front of them in an effort to appear less threatening.  “Well, who do we have here?”

The older of the two girls, pushed the younger behind her and moved back closer to the wall.  She said nothing.

Roy extended his hand.  The little one looked to be about Jenny’s age, maybe a few years younger.  “It’s okay.  I won’t hurt you.”

Camarin appeared in the hallway and smiled at Roy before turning to the girls.  “It’s okay, girls.  Remember we talked about John’s friend coming to stay with us for a while?  This is Mr. Desoto.  He’s a good man.”  Turning back to Roy, she finished the introductions.  “Mr. Desoto, this is Kaya and this is Rose.”

Roy smiled as he accepted the tentative handshakes.  “You can call me Roy.”  He squinted up at Camarin.  “They’re beautiful.  Your daughters?”

Camarin knelt beside the trio.  “You could say that.  Their real parents are gone, and I took them in.  I can’t have children of my own, so it’s a good deal for all of us.  I couldn’t love them any more if they were flesh and blood.”  She gave each of the girls a hug.  “You two go on and get to bed now.  It’s late, and you have school tomorrow.”

Roy was about to ask if there was a school on the reservation, but thought better of it.  Instead, he rose wearily to his feet, the long drive from the airport wearing on his bones.  He pointed toward the closed door to Johnny’s room.  “I’m going to need to wake him up every couple of hours during the night…”

“Because of his head injury, right?”

Roy was impressed with Camarin’s question, and briefly wondered where her knowledge had come from, but he supposed that years of taking care of their own when modern medical care was lacking or unavailable had been a good teacher to her and her people.  “Right.  But now, I need to go back to the diner and use the phone to call home.  I’ll be back.”

“Ok, Mr…Roy.  But, if you’re going back out there, be careful.”  Camarin walked out to the kitchen.

Roy followed Camarin’s retreating form.  “I will, although I have to admit.  I may take Johnny’s Rover.  I don’t have much experience driving in the snow.”

Camarin pulled something out of a drawer that was wrapped in cloth and walked over to face Roy.  “Well, yes, be careful driving.  But, that’s not the kind of careful I was talking about.”  She slipped the cloth covered object in his hand, and Roy unwrapped it.  It was a handgun.

zzz

Early the next morning Camarin looked up to see Roy enter the kitchen.  “How’s John?”

Roy surreptitiously handed Camarin the handgun she had given him the night before.  “He had a rough night.  His ribs were bothering him a lot, and he had a lot of trouble sleeping.  He’s asleep now, though.”

Camarin returned the gun to the drawer and went back to stirring a pot full of lumpy oatmeal.  “Well, if you think he needs to be seen at a bigger hospital, I can give you directions.  It’ll take you about two hours to…”

“No, it’s okay.  I think if I can just get him to stay in bed and rest today, he should be all right.”  Roy looked around the meager kitchen, spying the bottles of water labeled for drinking.  The only cooking implement there appeared to be was the propane stove that Camarin was using, and there was no refrigerator.  Roy shifted nervously.  He had been just about to ask what there was to give Johnny to eat later, but in that instant he made a decision that he would drive out to the diner and get them some take out.

Camarin must have been reading his mind.  “There’s plenty of oatmeal here for you and John.  There’s a cooler out on the back patio that has some leftovers from the diner in it.  You can help yourselves.  And there’s a bag of coffee on the counter.  Just make sure that whenever you use water for drinking or cooking that you take it from those bottles there.”

Roy was amazed at Camarin’s generosity, although he supposed he had seen this scenario many times before.  It always seemed as though the people with the least were willing to give the most.  He chose not to insult her kindness by telling her of his plans to go out for food.  “Okay, thanks.  Camarin, if you don’t mind my asking…where do you get your water?”

“There’s a community well.  Once or twice a week the girls and I load up all the empty bottles and drive out there and refill them.  Then I boil enough drinking water to get us by.  We usually spend several days a month helping our neighbors who don’t have cars restock their water supplies.”

Roy had been on camping trips with Johnny where they had to carry water back to their site and boil it.  It had always seemed the most tedious part of the camping experience.  He couldn’t imagine living like that on a daily basis.  “Isn’t there some way water could be piped in here?”

Camarin wiped her hands on her apron and tied her long hair into a ponytail.  “The government has been speaking with our tribal leaders about that for years.  There’s been talk about building a pipeline that would bring in water from the Missouri River.  But, so far, that’s all it’s been.  A lot of talk.”

Roy noticed the distinct shade of disgust coloring Camarin’s words.  He didn’t know what to say, so he changed the subject.  “Well, I really appreciate your letting Johnny and I stay here.  This trip really means a lot to him, and well…”

“It’s my pleasure, Roy.  I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to wake up the girls and get them ready for school.  After that, I’ll be going to work and I won’t be home until tonight.”  Camarin walked down the hall toward the girls’ room leaving Roy alone.  He glanced one more time around the small kitchen, and could hear Joanne’s complaints about the size of their own cooking space floating in his ears.  If only she could see this.  Roy headed back to Johnny’s room and found him still asleep.  He settled down on the hardwood floor and leaned against the wall, falling back into a light doze himself.

zzz

Camarin dropped Kaya and Rose off at Miss Yellow Bird’s house.  About forty Lakota children ranging in age from six to sixteen met there every day for school.  Miss Yellow Bird did a respectable job, not only teaching the children how to read and write in English, but also in Lakota.  It was her way of helping to hold onto a shrinking heritage. 

Camarin knew she needed to get to the diner.  She was already late, and Jake would be wondering where she was.  But, there was something she needed to do first, someone she needed to talk to.  She pulled up beside Shane Ten Bears place and parked her car.  Steeling herself for the conversation that would follow, she climbed out and walked to the door.

Shane Ten Bears was eighty three years old, the oldest person on the reservation, and he was highly respected.  He was still considered by most to hold the title of “chief” but more commonly he was referred to as the highest ranked elder.  Ten Bears still upheld many of the traditional tribal rites and ceremonies, and was often sought after for his wise counsel.  This morning, he was sitting in his living room, smoking his pipe, when he heard a knock at the door.  He sat the pipe down carefully in its holder and rose slowly from his chair.  He made his way to the door and opened it.  “Good morning, Miss Raven Sky.  Come.  I’ve been expecting you.”

Camarin stepped across the threshold and stomped the snow off of her boots, removing her coat and allowing the soothing aroma of Ten Bears’ tobacco to fill her lungs.  “You have?”

Ten Bears took Camarin’s coat and motioned for her to have a seat.  “Yes.  There’s much talk about the young man who is staying with you.”

Camarin took her seat.  “What kind of talk?”

Ten Bears took a few puffs from his pipe and smiled.  “Well, there are some who believe he is the ghost of Red Elk, come to seek revenge.”

“I can assure you, he’s no ghost.  But…he is seeking.”

Ten Bears leaned forward and looked at Camarin as if trying to read her thoughts.  “The man is John Gage.  Am I right?”

“Yes, Ten Bears.  You’re right.”

“And does he know who you are?”

Camarin cast a slanted glance in Ten Bears direction.  She wondered what exactly he meant by that.  “He knows I used to take care of him when he was a boy.  He remembers me.”

Ten Bears expression registered both surprise and concern.  “Well if he remembers you, then surely he must remember other things as well.”

Camarin felt her stomach knotting.  There was a secret the reservation had been successful at hiding for over twenty years.  Johnny’s presence here was certainly a concern for anyone who knew about it.  “John had a run in with Chaz’s gang yesterday.  I had to take him to the clinic.”

Ten Bears took another drag from his pipe.  If he was surprised by this change in subject, he didn’t show it.  “Was he hurt badly?”

“Bad enough.  A friend of his from Los Angeles arrived last night to check on him.  He thinks he’ll be all right with some rest.”

Ten Bears had heard of Los Angeles and his mind wandered briefly, wondering how Johnny had managed to end up there.  Then he remembered a talk he once had with Sukawaka Luta about a sister Elizabeth Gage had on the west coast.  “This friend…is he also Lakota?”

Camarin looked down at her hands.  “No, Ten Bears.  He’s white.”

“I don’t have to tell you of the bad medicine you could bring upon your house by lodging a white man.”  Ten Bears words were neither accusatory nor demeaning, but they were heavy with concern.

“Well what was I supposed to do?  He’s a friend of John’s.  I couldn’t just…”

Ten Bears held up his hand and nodded in understanding.  “Why don’t you tell me your reason for coming here today?”

Camarin twisted her hair in her hands.  She had a feeling she knew already what Ten Bears’ advice on the matter of John Gage would be.  “I think…I think John may remember some things about his parents.  I think he’s here searching for the truth.”

Ten Bears seemed to turn Camarin’s words over in his mind.  “It does not surprise me that John Gage would be a man who seeks the path of truth, but there are some truths that are best left unknown.”

Camarin rose to her feet, knowing it was disrespectful, but she couldn’t stop herself.  All these years later, she still felt as if she needed to protect John.  “It’s been over twenty years!  Don’t you think he deserves to know what really happened?”

Ten Bears sat his pipe down and clasped his hands together in his lap.  “And would you intend to tell him everything that happened?”

Camarin thought she was prepared for this, but suddenly realized she couldn’t find her voice.  “I…I…”

“Because there is a lot more to the story than I think you are prepared to tell him.”

Camarin turned and plopped wearily back down into the chair.  “Ten Bears…I don’t…I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that he’s here, and he’s going to be asking questions.  And you know there are people who…who won’t…all I’m saying is, maybe if I just give him the answers he’s looking for, he’ll leave.  I just don’t….want anything to happen to him.”

“You used to love John very much.”

Camarin’s eyes rose to meet the wise ones of her elder.  “I never stopped.”

Ten Bears leaned back in his chair and thought for several long moments.  “The matter is not an easy one.  The deaths of Red Elk and Elizabeth would have brought much bad medicine to the reservation.  You were pretty young to have understood.  But those of us who talked…we did what we thought was best.  If word of the truth had gotten out to the white lawmen, there’s no telling what may have happened.  It would have been the excuse they needed to come in here and punish all of us.  It was the best way…the only way.  John didn’t remember anything that happened and he was safe living with Sukawaka Luta.  The white men would have taken him away if they knew what really happened.  And I hate to think what may have happened to you…”

Camarin fought back tears as the memories of that day came flooding back.  “I know you’re right.  But, it’s been twenty three years.  I’m scared for John…”

“You should be scared for all of us.  I understand you want to protect him.  But he has a life in Los Angeles, right?”

“Yes.  He has a good job helping people.  He’s getting married soon.”

Ten Bears nodded.  “A good life.  John should go back to his job and his woman and forget about the ghosts who linger here.”

Camarin wasn’t convinced.  “His friend…he said John’s been through a lot.  And that he really wants answers.  He said coming here…means a lot to him.  And, I saw it, Ten Bears!  I saw it yesterday morning.  Chaz and the boys found him at his old house.  After they beat him, I could see it in his eyes.  He was that little boy again.  He wasn’t just remembering.  He was there.  It seems cruel to keep lying to him now.”

Ten Bears remembered the little boy Camarin spoke of.  He had felt sorry for him and his mother and had spoken to Red Elk many times about the addiction that was infecting his family.  “It is hard to make decisions sometimes when your heart is telling you one thing and your head is telling you another.  Sometimes it is necessary to decide based on what decision will do the greatest amount of good.  It is a sad thing that John has found his way back here after all these years, that he is remembering things that should have been long ago forgotten.  You are right.  He does deserve to have the answers he is seeking.  But, there has been much trouble on the reservation in recent years.  Things are only just now beginning to settle down.  If word of this “secret” gets out, it will only give the white government a reason to come back here.  Think of how many more of our women and children could be killed.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but how would word get out?  What if I just tell John what he wants to know and he leaves?  Who else would need to know?”

Ten Bears finally got around to breaching the subject he hoped he wouldn’t need to.  “Camarin, I am concerned you are allowing your love for John to cloud your judgment.  Have you considered the possibility that his actions here might not be sincere?  And this friend of his, what do you know about him?  Is it not possible that they could be working for the white government?”

Camarin refused to accept this possibility.  She couldn’t really explain how she knew, but she knew.  “They’re not, Ten Bears.  I have looked into their eyes.  Their hearts are pure.  I’m sure of it.”

Ten Bears reached out and took Camarin’s hand.  “No man can tell another what to do.  I will pray that you will come to the right decision regarding John Gage.  You would not be here seeking my advice if it were not valuable to you.”

Camarin stood and headed toward the door.  “You’re right.  Thank you.  I’ll keep the secret for now, but I won’t ask him to leave.”

Ten Bears rose to show Camarin out.  “He probably would not listen to you anyway.”

Camarin hesitated at the doorway and turned back toward the kind face of her elder.  “Ten Bears…have you thought about what kind of trouble it would cause for the reservation if something were to happen to John or his friend?  He’s determined.  He’s not going home anytime soon, and you know how most of the people are these days.  They’re afraid and full of hate.  They shoot first, and ask questions later.  Wouldn’t the death of these men cause even more ‘bad medicine’ for our people?”

Ten Bears handed Camarin her coat.  “Whatever is going to happen, will happen.  If the decisions John makes cause more trouble for our people, there is nothing we can do about that.  But, we can do what we must to make sure we are not the ones causing more strife to fall on this place.  I have given you my counsel, Camarin.  It is up to you whether you choose to hear it.”

Camarin sighed sadly.  “I’ve heard it, Ten Bears.  And, I’ll do what I must.” She stepped off the small porch into the snow.

zzz

Johnny awoke to the sound of soft snoring.  He looked over at Roy who was still leaning against the wall, asleep.  He supposed the days of practice Roy had sleeping in hard, plastic chairs beside his hospital bed had afforded his friend the ability to sleep just about anywhere.  A quick glance at his watch told Johnny that Camarin had probably taken the girls to school and gone to work several hours ago.  He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed.  The dizziness and nausea appeared to be gone, for the most part anyway, and his headache was a little better.  He rose gingerly and retrieved his boots.  Putting them on caused more than a little discomfort to his injured ribs, but he was careful not to make a sound.  He had things to do today, and he knew if he didn’t manage to get out of the house before Roy woke up that an argument would ensue.  He knew his friend was only acting out of concern, but the truth was, Johnny felt much better and wasn’t about to spend his day lying around in bed.  He grabbed his coat and headed outside.

Johnny knew exactly where he wanted to go this morning.  His first stop would be at his childhood home.  He thought back to the images being there conjured up yesterday, and although they weren’t pleasant, Johnny had a feeling that the more time he could spend inside the walls of the place that held his memories prisoner for so many years, the more would come to him.  So, he trudged through the snow toward the vacant one room house with its peeling blue paint.  A cautious eye canted toward the figure standing on the stoop outside the house next door.  The years had turned his hair gray, but Johnny was certain it was Chaske Silver Feather, his neighbor from long ago, watching him with intense curiosity.  He would pay Chaske a visit later.  He remembered calling out to him for help the day his mama was killed, as he ran out of the house after his papa.  Chaske ignored him, but he had been there.  He knew what had happened, and Johnny was determined to ask him for some answers.

Johnny pushed aside the board leaning against the front door and stepped inside.  He shook off a chill.  It seemed colder inside the small house than outside.  Johnny reasoned that it was because the late morning sun was burning off the chill and melting the spring snow along with it, but he knew there was more to it than that.  It would take a lifetime of warmth to erase the cold images these walls saw played out years ago.  Johnny’s boots sounded eerily loud on the wood floor that had been covered in a layer of cheap linoleum which was now faded and peeling away.  He walked around the perimeter of the main room, unsure of what he was looking for.  There were no familiar objects, everything having long ago been looted or removed.  But his mind could still picture it all.  There was the corner where his papa’s chair had been.  Johnny cringed at the memory of the beating he had taken the day papa came home and found him sitting in it.  Over there by the window was where mama used to cook meals on her little stove.  He closed his eyes and could almost smell the aroma of her corncakes.  Johnny could picture it all, moving around the room, guided by memory’s hand until he reached the moth eaten sheet, stained yellow by time, hanging from two hooks in the ceiling.  He paused in front of it for a moment, tracing his fingers down the fabric until, kneeling, he reached the primitive stick figure drawings near the bottom, right at the height a small boy could reach.  He remembered vividly the day he had drawn them.  Camarin was here and had given him a small bottle of blue paint and a tiny brush.  And she sat back and watched him as he painted a story of a young boy and his parents.  But that story had a much happier ending than his own. 

Johnny reached out with a shaking hand and carefully peeled back the fabric, concerned that even the slightest touch might cause it to disintegrate, much like his memories had after the day his mama died.  Moving slowly, he almost gasped at what he saw.  On the floor behind the curtain was an old, dirty mattress…his mattress.  Johnny let go of the sheet as if it had burned his skin, repelled backward by the assault of images attacking his mind’s eye.  His hand flew to his forehead as he tried to sort them out…his papa’s enormous boots stomping just beyond the closed curtain…his mama’s face, eyes puffy and swollen…the back of papa’s hand…A young girl with kind eyes who wore a flower in her hair…a baseball bat.

Johnny moved toward the mattress on the floor, no longer feeling in control of his body.  He sat down on the damp surface and the scent of mildew overpowered him.  He was that young boy again, sitting in the one place where he could seek haven, the one place where he could hide and almost shut out all of the horrors in his life.  As long as he was behind the sheet, he was safe, he would tell himself.  As long as he stayed here, he could pretend things were different on the other side and his imagination could turn his life into the one he dreamed about.  Johnny’s hands reached out until they found the small dream catcher, still attached to the wall above where he would lay his head.  Camarin helped him make it one day, and together they had hung it there, hoping that it would ward off bad dreams.  The only problem was, Johnny’s nightmares didn’t happen in sleep.  Johnny clutched the ornament in his hands and leaned back against the wall.  The memory of that day was coming back again, even more vividly than before.  He remembered trying to wake his mama, realizing that she would never wake again.  He ran out the door after papa, screaming across the yard at Chaske and every adult he saw.  No one would listen.  Finally his memories took him to the field behind the old school.  He chased papa until the two of them were alone beside the giant weeping birch tree that stood near the edge of the expanse.  He stood, bat in hand, staring at his papa, his dark eyes tearing as they asked him “why?”  His papa’s words burned in Johnny’s ears as if he were hearing them for the first time.  Don’t ever cry.  Crying makes you look weak.

But, papa…why?

Don’t ever cry…just remember.  Remember this day…and know that it could happen to you…

Johnny couldn’t be certain but there was something different about his papa.  The earlier rage was gone and even though his words were hateful, the tone sounded more akin to a father giving advice to his son. 

Papa walked closer, his eyes full of sorrow as they begged forgiveness.  Don’t cry, son…Don’t…

Johnny’s heart pounded in his chest.  He felt as though, impossibly, he was eight years old again, yet at the same time, viewing the scene in front of him through an adult’s eyes.  The child heard his papa’s words, but he couldn’t hear the remorse in his voice, couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes.  He only heard the angry words of a father who had killed his mother in a drunken rage, the words that he had spoken to him many times before as his heavy fists connected over and over against his tiny frame.  I told you not to cry…crying makes you weak…

But, the adult Johnny saw something different.  His papa was sorry for what he had done.  He was begging his son’s forgiveness.  This moment, although horrible and wrong, could have been a turning point…things might have been different after this.  Don’t cry, son…don’t cry…

Johnny watched in horror as the young boy seemed to shut out his papa’s attempts at reconciliation.  He raised the huge bat that was almost as tall as he was and took a swing, only to have it halted mid-air by his papa’s lumbering hands.  Then, there was a flash of pain in his head so intense, it took his breath away.  That was where the memories stopped.  Johnny grabbed at his head with both hands and cried out in pain.  Seconds later, he heard a familiar voice that brought him back to the present.

“Johnny?”  Roy knew the moment he saw the sheet and the mattress that he was standing in Johnny’s childhood home.  It was exactly as he had heard him remember it.  When he saw Johnny leaning against the wall, eyes closed, clutching a small item that looked like a spider web, tears running down his face as he muttered incoherently, he wasn’t sure what to do.  He was torn between trying to snap him out of whatever horrible place he was visiting, and standing back, knowing that these were the memories Johnny was working so hard to remember.  But when his friend’s hands moved to his head and he cried out in pain, Roy instinctively knelt beside him in an effort to offer whatever comfort he could.

Johnny’s eyes snapped open and he sprang forward, clutching at the sheet and pulling it closed.  His movements were frantic and his eyes were wide with fear.  “No!  Keep it closed!  I want it closed!”

Roy’s heart twisted with a memory of his own.  It was in the first few days following Johnny’s assault at the hands of Jonas Quinn.  He was in the ICU, and in his brief periods of wakefulness, he had been disoriented and confused.  One thing he had been sure about, however, was that he wanted the curtain surrounding his bed to be pulled closed at all times.  One time Roy had asked him why, and Johnny mumbled something about being “safe.”  It seemed no big deal at the time.  But now, as Roy looked around the tiny, dark space that had served as Johnny’s childhood bedroom, it made sense.  This was probably the one place Johnny could go where he could feel safe from what was going on around him, the one small place in the world that was his and his alone.  He shook off a chill and turned back to his friend.  “Okay, Johnny.  It’s closed.  It’s closed…see?”

There was that voice again.  It was familiar, but it didn’t belong here.  Roy…Johnny looked at his friend and realized what had happened.  Even though he knew Roy had probably witnessed much worse than whatever had happened here this morning, he couldn’t help the embarrassment he was feeling.  When he realized he had been crying, he was even more ashamed.  He quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve.  “Hey, man.  Sorry…”

Roy’s voice was calm and steady.  “Sorry for what?”

Johnny wiped at his eyes again and cleared his throat.  “For sitting here being a blubbering idiot, for one thing.”

Roy extended a handkerchief to his friend, but it was refused.  “Johnny, it looked like you were remembering something pretty awful.  It’s okay to cry, you know.”  As soon as the words left his mouth, Roy realized how hollow they sounded.  He was one to talk.  If he had been caught crying in front of Johnny or any of the guys from the station, he would have been equally embarrassed.

Johnny cleared his throat a second time and stood up.  “Crying makes you look weak.”  He dusted off his hands and returned the dream catcher to its nail.

“What’s that, Johnny?”

Johnny turned to see Roy indicating the dream catcher.  “Huh?  Oh…that’s a dream catcher.  Camarin and I made it when I was a kid.”

“A dream catcher?”

“Yeah.  You hang it above your bed and good dreams can pass through but bad dreams get stuck in the web.”  He fingered the web one more time before stepping off the mattress.  “Never worked for me.”

Roy looked at Johnny, trying to figure out whether he would be receptive to sharing what just happened here.  “You feel like talking?”

Johnny stepped past the sheet, Roy following.  “Not really.”  He looked at Roy and added, “Look, Roy.  I just…I remembered more about what happened…”

“Really?  Johnny, well that’s…”

“And I need a little time to sort it out…to make sense of it, okay?”

Roy nodded.  “Sure.  So, this was where you lived?  This was your house?”

Johnny felt his cheeks flush with shame.  He wouldn’t….couldn’t accept Roy’s pity, so he did his best to make light of it.  “Yep.  This is it.  Not exactly Mayberry, huh?”

Roy didn’t know what to say.  He had learned more about Johnny’s life before he came to LA in the past five minutes than he had managed to glean in the past six years.  He knew Johnny had to be feeling embarrassment and shame, but Roy found that he could only look upon his friend with renewed respect.  The incredible adversity he had overcome to grow into the person he was today was nothing short of amazing.  He only wished he knew the words to tell him this.  “No…not exactly.  Come on, you must be starving.  I know I am.  Let’s drive out to the diner and get something to eat.”

Johnny followed Roy outside, grateful that he always knew how to effectively diffuse an awkward situation.  He knew Roy would be there to listen when the time came to share what he had learned today, and he also knew he wouldn’t push him to talk before he was ready.  “Yeah…okay.”  After a few steps toward their vehicles, Johnny’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.  “Hey, Roy?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know where I was?”

Roy didn’t tell Johnny that he had awoken seconds after he had left the room and that he had followed him, at a distance of course, across the yards to the one room building.  He didn’t share with him that he had waited patiently outside for him, choosing to give his friend his space until he heard him mumbling in distress.  “I don’t know…instinct I guess.”

Johnny quickened his pace, his long strides easily moving him ahead of his friend.  He shook his head and muttered, “Instinct…”

zzz

Camarin looked up when she heard the bells above the door give their jingle indicating customers had arrived in the diner.  She was surprised and a little disheartened to see Johnny and Roy walk in.  She felt bad that they felt as if they needed to buy their own meals, although she knew it wasn’t that they didn’t appreciate her offer of food.  She felt the pang of guilt dissipate into quiet relief.  The small amount of food she could afford was barely enough to feed her and the girls.  She smiled a hello and motioned for them to take a seat anywhere.  “Hey, guys!  I’ll be over in a minute!”

Jake peered through the kitchen pass through at the two men settling themselves into a booth in the corner.  He grumbled at Camarin.  “Great.  Now there’s two of them…”

Camarin turned sharply and hissed at her boss and friend.  “Jake!”

Jake shook his head and went back to cleaning his grill.  “I just hope you know what you’re doing, girl.”

Camarin didn’t answer.  She straightened her skirt, grabbed her pad, and headed over to the booth.  “So, what are you guys in the mood for?”

Johnny was starving.  He hadn’t eaten anything at all yesterday, and now that the nausea from his head injury was gone, his normally ravenous appetite was back.  He stared at the menu.  If he were home in LA, he would have ordered a couple of burgers, a bowl of chili, fries, onion rings, and a dessert.  But knowing that Camarin and the girls together probably didn’t eat that much in a week, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, even if it would have meant he could have justified a bigger tip.  “I’ll have the cheeseburger special and a glass of milk.”

Roy folded his menu with a smile.  “Same here.”  He watched as Camarin moved away, then cast an assessing eye over his friend’s face.  “Well, you still look terrible.  Are you feeling any better?”

“Well, my face feels like a football.”

“Well, it sort of looks like one too,” Roy mused.  “How are your ribs?”

Johnny smiled the closest thing to his crooked grin he could manage.  “They only hurt when I breathe.”

Roy looked at his watch.  “If you want, I can run you to the hospital today.  Or we could run over to the clinic and see if the doctor you saw will write you a prescription for some pain meds.  The pharmacy’s closer…”

Camarin was back with the milks and overheard Roy’s suggestions.  “Everything okay, John?”

Johnny lifted his glass and drank half of his milk down in one long gulp.  He sat it back down with a sigh of relief.  “Everything’s fine, Camarin.  You see, my friend here…well, let’s just say he tends to be a bit of a mother hen sometimes.”

Camarin beamed and turned to look at Roy.  “Oh, really?  Turning back to Johnny, she teased, “And is that because of his compassionate nature or because you have a tendency to get yourself into situations where you need mothering?”

Johnny and Roy looked at each other, smiling, and answered simultaneously.  “Both!”

The three shared a friendly laugh as Camarin returned to the counter.

Roy’s tone turned serious again as soon as the two friends were alone.  “I mean it, Johnny.  If you want to go…”

Johnny waved him off as he took another sip of milk.  “I’m okay, Roy.  I want to talk to Chaske Silver Feather when we get done here.  He was my neighbor, and I saw him this morning.  He was there the day that…that…”

“Okay.”  Roy understood and saw no reason to make Johnny finish his thought.  “Johnny, have you talked to Camarin yet?  About what happened?”

Johnny glanced over in Camarin’s direction.  She was busy cleaning.  “Not yet.  I figure she probably knows some things.  But she wasn’t there when it happened.  I didn’t see her that day, at least not that I remember.  I need to talk to someone who was…and Chaske was.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully.  “You were remembering again today.”

Johnny let out a long sigh.  “Yeah.”

Roy knew Johnny needed to talk about what he had remembered.  He also knew he likely wouldn’t do that without some encouragement.  He chewed on his bottom lip until he figured out an opening.  “Johnny, when you were in the hospital…after Jonas…well, in the ICU you got really upset when the curtain around your bed was open.  You would get really agitated and tell me to close it.  You said you felt safer that way.  I didn’t think much about it at the time…”

Johnny stared at the table.  “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, you were pretty out of it.  But…this morning…back at the house…the sheet…it was the same thing.  Do you remember that?”

Johnny shook his head.  “No.”  He leaned across the table and folded his hands.  “Roy…when I was a kid, that space behind the sheet…for some reason that was the only place I could go where my papa wouldn’t bother me.  It was as if…if he couldn’t see me, then…I don’t know.”  Johnny’s lips curled into a small smile.  “I used to pretend I was a Lakota warrior, and that the US soldiers were on the other side of that sheet.  It was their fort, I guess.  In my imagination, they would shoot at me, and I would shoot back with my bow and arrow.  I would always win.  When I was there, I was…invincible.” Johnny blushed slightly at the childish memory.

“I kind of figured as much.”  Roy remembered his own childhood, playing cowboys and Indians with his friends.  In their fantasies, the cowboys always won.  This was just one more indication that the bridge between his world and Johnny’s was wrought with missing boards.

Johnny kept going, as if now that the dam had been broken, he couldn’t hold back.  “But then, I would hear things on the other side.  My mama…And I would have to open the curtain.  As long as I stayed out of the way, he left me alone, but when I heard him hurting mama…I just couldn’t…and it was when he saw me open the curtain…”

“Yeah.”  Roy didn’t want Johnny to have to go into detail.

Camarin was there with two plates full of cheeseburgers and fries.  She sat them down on the table.  “Here you go, guys.  I think you’ll like them.  Jake makes really good burgers…”  She noticed the far off expression on Johnny’s face.  “John?  You okay?”

Camarin’s voice brought Johnny back from wherever he had been.  “Yeah…yeah.  These burgers look great!” He picked his burger up and took a large bite.  Scowling slightly, he put it back down and lifted the top bun.  He then reached for the bottle of ketchup on the table and heaped on a generous amount.

Camarin smiled, realizing how much of the little boy she once knew was still inside this grown man in front of her.  “You guys need anything else right now?”  At Roy and Johnny’s assurances that they were well supplied, she went back to her cleaning.

Johnny reached for the salt shaker and stopped abruptly, his motion halted by a swift spasm of pain in his right side.  He gasped painfully as his left arm wrapped around his middle.  “Ahh!  Oh…man.”  

Roy waited until he was sure Johnny could focus on what he was saying.  “Johnny…are you sure you don’t want to go back to the clinic?  I’m sure the doctor there could…”

Johnny gritted his teeth and tried an experimental breath.  Letting it out shakily, he refused Roy’s offer once again.  “No…it’ll pass.  Besides, I really don’t want to bother them for something like this.”

Roy wiped his mouth on his napkin.  “Johnny, it’s a clinic.  I’m sure it’s no bother.”

Johnny sighed, relieved that the intense spasmodic pain seemed to be settling down into the familiar, dull ache he had been growing accustomed to.  “You should have seen that place yesterday.  Two doctors, Roy.  Two.  And a waiting room full of people.  I offered to stay and help, but the doc wouldn’t let me.”

“You told him you were a paramedic?”

Johnny dipped a handful of fries into ketchup and stuffed them into his mouth.  “Yeah.  Not sure if he really knew what it was, though.  Man, they could have really used some help.  Must be some kind bug or something going around here.  Lots of sick kids.  And their mothers didn’t look all too healthy either.”

“Huh.”  Roy felt an involuntary shiver course up and down his spine.  God only knew what kinds of diseases could abound on the reservation.  It was doubtful many of the children were immunized, unless the government took care of that.  Add to that the crowded, unsanitary conditions, the lack of readily available, modern medical care and epidemics could easily scream out of control.  Johnny had been there yesterday, and the chance of exposure was high.  Without his spleen, his immunity was compromised.  Roy said a silent prayer that this was as Johnny predicted, a simple bug, and nothing more.

Johnny swallowed down his mouthful of fries.  “Maybe later, we could go on over there…see if there’s anything we could do to help.”

Roy wanted to tell Johnny he didn’t think that was such a good idea, but the truth was, he felt compelled to help also.  “Yeah, maybe.”

The men finished their meals and paid for them, leaving a tip for Camarin that was large enough to be generous, but not large enough to be insulting.  Johnny had one more thing he wanted to do before they left.  “I’m gonna go call Hannah.  Why don’t you have another cup of coffee or something?  I won’t be long.”

Roy sat down on one of the high leather stools in front of the counter.  “Okay, sure.”  He smiled at Camarin as she poured him a cup.

zzz

Johnny eased himself down into the chair next to the phone.  He was hurting more than he had been letting on, and was beginning to think maybe he should take Roy up on his offer to go see Dr. Greenberg about a prescription.  Rubbing his temples, he waited until his headache eased, then picked up the phone receiver, dialing the number to his ranch.  After giving the operator his information for the collect call, he waited.  The phone rang ten times, and he was about to hang up, when finally he heard a male voice on the other end.  Justin.  He waited for his friend to accept the charges.

“John?” Justin sounded slightly winded.

“Yeah, man.  It’s me.  What took you so long to answer?”

“I was outside on the deck, and didn’t hear the phone at first.  Hannah’s finishing up with an appointment.  Oh, by the way.  Don’t be surprised if there’s an addition to your family when you get home.”

Johnny almost choked on his own saliva.  “What?”

Justin laughed heartily.  “A patient of hers just had puppies.  Siberian Huskies, John.  They offered one to Hannah.”

“Oh!”  Johnny was filled with relief.  “Well, that’s okay, I guess.  Man, Justin.  You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Justin chuckled.  “Sorry.  So, Roy said you might have a concussion and a busted rib.  How are you doing?”

“As usual, my partner likes to exaggerate.  I’m a little bruised up.  Nothing serious.”

“Uh huh.”  Justin knew by now who to believe when it came to Johnny’s condition.

Johnny wanted the subject changed.  “Can Hannah get away for a minute?  I’d really like to talk to her.”

Justin walked over to the door and peered outside.  Hannah was standing beside her client’s car, talking.  “Yeah, it looks like she’s almost done.  Do you know that after this appointment she’s dragging me with her to look at flowers?  Can you beat that?  Flowers, John!”

“Well, maybe she thinks you have good taste.  I, on the other hand, know better.”

“Very funny.  I wish Joanne could go with her, but she had some PTA meeting this afternoon.  I don’t know the first thing about flowers!”

“Well, if I end up wearing poison ivy on my lapel, I’ll know who to blame.”

Justin laughed at Johnny’s comment, then noticed Hannah’s client was leaving.  “Hey, John?  Hang on.  I’ll put Hannah on the line.”

Johnny waited a few seconds until finally he heard the sound of his fiancée’s voice.  Suddenly, he realized how much he missed her.  “Hi, honey.”

Hannah immediately began fishing for information.  “How are you?  Roy said…”

“I’m fine.  Please try not to worry about me, okay?”

Hannah pressed her back against the cool surface of the refrigerator.  Hearing Johnny’s voice made her long for more.  “Okay.  So, what’s up?”

“I met a woman here.  She used to take care of me when I was little.  Her name’s Camarin.  Her mama and mine were friends.”

“Oh?”  Hannah couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that was creeping into her heart.  She trusted Johnny, and knew it was ridiculous, but it was there just the same.

“Yeah.  She was kind of like a big sister, you know?  Anyway, she works here at the diner, and she’s letting us stay with her.”

There was that twinge again.  “Well that’s good.  I guess it’s good that you found someone you know.  Was she able to tell you anything?  You know…about…”

“We haven’t really gotten that far, Hannah.  But, I did spend some time today in my old house.”

The twinge turned from jealousy to compassion in an instant.  “Really?  Oh, that must have been bittersweet for you.”

“That’s a good way to put it, I guess.  Anyway, I remembered some more things when I was there.”

“You did?  Like what?”  Hannah wished she could be with Johnny right now.  She knew this whole experience wasn’t easy for him.  At least Roy was there.  She trusted him to know the right things to do and say where Johnny was concerned, and she was grateful for that.

“Not much, really.  But, I remembered running after my papa…the day that it…that it happened.  I followed him to the big field out behind the old school.  There was a big tree there that I used to climb.  Fell out of it a time or two.  Anyway, I can’t really make sense of it, Hannah.  But, I think…I think he was…sorry.”

“He what?”  This was not what Hannah had been expecting.

“I don’t know…I just…It was like I was standing there watching.  And for once, he wasn’t angry with me.  He was…it looked like he was trying to comfort me…like he was…apologizing.”  Tears burned the corners of Johnny’s eyes, but he kept them from falling.

“Well, then what happened next?”  Hannah was hoping that Johnny had figured out how his father came to be killed, and how he had ended up unconscious in a hospital in the city.

“I don’t know.  I couldn’t remember anything past that.  Before, I thought…I thought maybe he hit me, and that’s how I ended up in the hospital.  But, I don’t think that’s what happened, Han.  Maybe…maybe there really was an accident.  Maybe mama didn’t die that day.”

Hannah wanted to believe that.  She knew what a relief it would be to Johnny to learn that he hadn’t been lied to, that his parents’ deaths, although early and tragic, were a result of a freak car accident, and not some terrible end result of years of alcoholism and abuse.  But, for some reason, she felt the answers would not be so easy.  She had a feeling Johnny knew it too, and became concerned that this most recent memory might not be accurate at all, that instead of remembering events the way they actually occurred, Johnny’s mind was conjuring up the facts as he wanted them to be.  “Maybe if you went to that field, John.  Could you do that?”

Johnny knew what Hannah was suggesting.  If his former home brought back memories, then maybe visiting the actual place where it happened would spark memories as well.  The problem was, although Johnny was longing for the truth, he wasn’t sure he would be prepared for it.  “Yeah.  I’m sure it’s still here.  That’s a good idea.”

“Just make sure someone goes with you.”

“Yeah, okay.  Look, I better get going.  Roy’s out there waiting for me.”

“Okay.”

“I miss you.”

Hannah wiped at her eyes.  “Miss you too.”

Johnny could hear the tears in Hannah’s voice, and he tried to lighten the mood.  “Hey, Justin said we’re getting a puppy.”

Hannah’s voice brightened a little.  “Is it okay?”

Johnny’s thoughts ambled to the night Jonas attacked him in his barn.  What a difference a watch dog may have made.  “Sure it’s okay.  I’ll be looking forward to seeing her when I get home.”

“Him.”

Johnny smiled at Hannah’s presumptuousness.  “Him.  Does he have a name yet?”

“I figured we would take care of that together.”

“Okay.  Good Deal.  I’ll call again tomorrow.  Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The connection was broken and Johnny sat for a few moments at the table.  He glanced at his watch.  It was already after one o’clock.  Feeling like he was wasting precious time, he rose to his feet with a groan, ignoring the look he was getting from Jake who had just entered the room.  He made his way back out front where Roy was waiting.  Together, they rode back to Camarin’s house.

zzz

Johnny looked intently at the broken door hinge on the back door to Camarin’s home.  He wasn’t sure exactly what he could do to repair it.  He had his toolbox, which he carried in his Rover, but he didn’t have a hinge, and had no idea where the closest hardware store might be.  “Roy?  Can you hand me a Phillips screwdriver?  This is awfully rusty, but maybe if I can get it off of here…we can figure out a way to stabilize it.”

Roy reluctantly handed Johnny the requested tool.  “Why don’t you let me do that?  You should go lie down for a while.”

“Look, I told you I feel better.  Besides, as soon as I’m done here, I’m going over to talk to Chaske.”  Johnny exerted pressure against the stubborn screw and winced as a sudden jolt seared through his ribs.  “Ahh!  Damn it!”

Roy sprang to his feet and steadied his friend, taking the screwdriver from him.  “Sit down a minute!  I’ll finish this.”

Johnny loped into the kitchen, kicked out one of the chairs, and sat down.  As he worked to even out his breathing, his eyes caught sight of movement on the floor, near one of the cabinets.  It took several moments, his eyes searching, until he found it again.  A rat.  Johnny lunged for the broom in the corner, but by the time he had turned back around to raise it, the critter disappeared.  His vision darted from one corner of the room to the other as he threw open cabinet doors and kicked bottles aside.  “Where’d you go, you little son of a…”

Roy became aware of his partner’s crazed movement around the kitchen and he stepped inside.  “Johnny, what…”

Johnny shushed his friend.  “A rat, Roy.  Big one, too.  Come on, help me find it.”

Roy helped look for the intruder for several minutes.  “Johnny, it could be anywhere.  In the walls…probably has a nest somewhere.”

Johnny started looking around.  “Wonder if Camarin has any rat poison…or traps…”

Roy laid the rusty hinge and the screwdriver on the card table.  He reasoned rodent infestations were probably a common occurrence on the reservation, and figured Johnny knew this too.  But, he didn’t say anything.  “Look, why don’t you go talk to your neighbor?  I’ll look around and see what I can find.”  He indicated the hinge on the table.  “That’s beyond fixing.  I’ll see if I can rig something to hold the door for now, but when Camarin comes back, we’ll need to ask her if there’s someplace we can pick up a new hinge.”

Johnny wiped his brow, surprised and disgusted by how tired he felt.  “Yeah…okay.  Thanks, Roy.  I’ll be back a little later.”

Johnny stepped off the back patio and shielded his eyes from the blinding afternoon sun.  Most of the snow was gone now, and the ground was soft and muddy under his feet.  He made his way across the properties until he reached the familiar house of his former neighbor, Chaske Silver Feather.  Johnny remembered Chaske to be a decent man, if not altogether friendly.  He mostly had kept to himself, and as a child, Johnny often wondered why.  A brief memory of Chaske standing in his yard, silent and unmoving, as Johnny screamed out for help, skittered into his consciousness and then faded.  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Chaske Silver Feather had lived on the reservation all his life.  He had outlived most of his friends and family, and at the age of 48, figured that his time would be coming soon.  When he was younger, he had no trouble finding enough odd jobs as a handyman off the reservation to afford a content living which ensured his basic needs were met.  The past few years had been difficult on him, but like many of the locals who knew no other way of life beyond the boundaries of their existence, there was no longing to leave and seek a better life.  Chaske knew that finding work and acceptance in the white man’s world would be nearly impossible for a middle aged Indian who couldn’t read or write.  So, today, he sat like he did on most other days, quenching his hunger with a bottle of beer, waiting to die.

Johnny knocked again, more insistently.  “Chaske!  Chaske Silver Feather!  Come on, I know you’re in there!  I just want to talk to you!”

Chaske tried to ignore the man pounding on his door.  He knew without looking who it was, and he didn’t want anything to do with him.  He had no enemies on the reservation, and he wanted to keep it that way.  He took another long swallow of his beer.  “Go away!”

Chaske closed his eyes and remembered Elizabeth.  She had been his age when she first came to live with Red Elk, only 17.  Elizabeth was the first white person Chaske had ever seen, and he remembered his fascination at the milky tone of her skin, and her eyes that were the color of the sky.  There were plenty of folks who wondered why Red Elk, who had been fifteen years Elizabeth’s senior, had taken a wasicu for a bride, and there were some who never accepted her, or the half breed son she bore a few months later.  Chaske thought back with disgust at the way Red Elk had treated Elizabeth.  He had always thought he would have made a better husband for the young woman with the gentle smile.  His heart remembered how he had lain awake at night, trying to come up with ways to get Elizabeth away from the endless violence she had to endure.  He supposed he had loved her.  But, he had been afraid…afraid of Red Elk, afraid of what others would think, and afraid of the embarrassment and shame that would result from raising a son that was neither red nor white.  Resigned to the fact that the pounding would continue until he went to the door, Chaske tossed his empty bottle onto the floor and stood up.  It took only a few short steps to reach the knob, and he pulled the door open.  Instead of inviting Johnny inside, he closed the door behind him and looked around to make sure he wasn’t being watched.  “What do you want?”

Johnny felt his nausea creeping back at the stench of stale beer and rotting teeth.  “Listen, Mr. Silver Feather.  I don’t mean to bother you.”  He extended his hand.  “I’m John Gage.  I used to…”

“I know who you are.”  Chaske didn’t accept the handshake, and continued to look around nervously.  “You’re Elizabeth’s kid.  And you got a lotta nerve coming here and…”

Johnny was slightly taken aback by Chaske’s mention of his mother.  He would have thought Chaske would refer to him as belonging to Red Elk.  “Look, I don’t mean you any harm.  I don’t remember much about my parents and I’m just looking for some answers.  That’s all.  I know you lived here back then, and I wondered if…”

Chaske backed up toward his door.  “Sorry, kid.  Nothin’ personal, but I can’t help you.  I didn’t know your mama and papa all that well.  Now if there’s nothin’ else…”

Johnny wasn’t ready to give up.  Chaske had been there.  He knew more than he was letting on.  “Well, then maybe you could just…”

“Maybe nothin’!  Jeezus, you’re about as stubborn as your papa!  Sure as hell look enough like him.  Now I just said I couldn’t help you.  Now get outta here, kid.  And don’t be comin’ back around here!”  With that, Chaske went back inside, slammed the door, and threw the deadbolt.

Johnny turned and slammed his fist against the rotting porch railing.  He was a jumbled mess of emotions ranging from anger to betrayal, disappointment and frustration.  He didn’t know where to go.  He didn’t want to go back and face Roy, not right now.  Chaske’s words were still ringing in his ears.  Memories of various people closing doors in his face and telling him to get out came flooding back in one giant rush.  It had been the price he paid for being stuck in the middle of two different worlds, with neither side wanting to claim him.  As Johnny wandered aimlessly through the muddy streets, he rubbed his hands over his face.  He wished he didn’t look like Red Elk.  Johnny knew he was stubborn, that was for sure.  How many times had people told him that?  What if he was more like his papa than he realized?  As Johnny’s mind whirled, his emotions escalated and coalesced into irrational thought.  Maybe he shouldn’t marry Hannah.  Maybe the potential was there for the cycle to repeat itself, and she would be better off without him.  Hannah had already been through that with Kent.  Worse still, how could he be sure that any children he had with Hannah wouldn’t have to face the same horrors he did as a child?  Could he really trust himself not to repeat the mistakes of his father?

As Johnny ambled on down the road, he did his best to ignore the stares and comments he was getting from the locals.  Every derogatory slur, every mother who hurriedly ushered her children inside and locked the doors, pierced Johnny’s soul like a dull arrow.  Johnny found himself simultaneously wishing he had never come here and wondering why he ever left as he continued on, not knowing or caring where he would end up.

zzz

Roy walked out onto the porch at the sound of a car door slamming.  “Camarin!”

Camarin hurried her step at the urgency in Roy’s voice, thinking perhaps Johnny had taken a turn for the worse.  “Roy?”

Roy held the door open for Camarin to enter.  “Have you seen Johnny?”

Camarin handed three takeout containers full of food to Kaya and Rose.  “Go put this in the kitchen.  I’ll be there in a minute.”  She turned her attention back to Roy.  “Not since the two of you came in at lunchtime, why?”

Roy paced the small entryway.  “He left just after two-thirty.  He said he was going to talk to his old neighbor…uh…”

“Chaske?”

“Yeah, I think that was it.  Anyway, he never came back.  That was over six hours ago!”

Camarin shrugged out of her coat and moved quickly to the back door.  She peered out the window toward Chaske’s house.  It was dark.  “Well, it doesn’t look like he’s over there now.  He didn’t mention going anywhere else?”

Roy thought, his stomach rolling over and twisting in concern.  “Well, he did mention something about an old school…a field…does that sound familiar?”

Camarin’s eyes fell.  “Yes…and it doesn’t surprise me that he would want to go there.”

“Well, can you show me where it is?”

Camarin was quiet for a moment, lost in thought.  She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go to that place, but if Johnny needed her help—“I can show you, but why don’t we…”  Camarin was startled by a harsh knock on the back door.  She peeked through the window to see who it was.  “Tag?  What are you doing here?”  She invited the young man in.

Tag entered the kitchen, rubbing his hands together in an effort to warm them.  He eyed Roy cautiously.

Camarin placed a hand on Tag’s shoulder.  “He’s all right, Tag.  He’s a friend.”

Tag continued to glance in Roy’s direction as he spoke to Camarin.  Although he trusted this woman, he wasn’t convinced he could trust anyone was white as Roy was.  “It’s your friend…I thought you’d wanna know…”

Roy spoke up and moved closer.  “Wait…what?  Is this about Johnny?”

Camarin held a hand up to let know Roy know he was treading on thin ice.  She was concerned that if Tag viewed him as a threat, that he would run off and not give the information he had come to deliver.  “What is it, Tag?  Is John in trouble?”

Tag paused, unsure if he was doing the right thing in coming here.  “I saw him at The Arrow.  Chaz said he’d been there a long time…Tom’s been making lots of cash off him.”

Camarin sighed and addressed the girls.  “Kaya, you and Rose eat that and then get off to bed.  Mr. Desoto and I have to go out.”  She turned back to the young man.  “Tag, have you eaten?”

Tag looked longingly at the containers of food on the table.  “Not lately, Miss Raven.”

“Well then you stay here and eat my share.  Was John…okay?”

Tag moved closer to the table and grabbed a french fry.  “He’s had a lot, Miss Raven.  And you know Tom…not gonna turn down easy money if he can get it.”

“Right.  Thanks, Tag.”  Camarin headed back down the hallway for her coat and keys with Roy on her heels.  “The Arrow is a bar just off the rez.”

Roy grabbed his own coat off the hook and followed Camarin outside.  “I don’t understand…Johnny….he’s…”

“In trouble, Roy.  From what Tag said, sounds like he’s already had too much to drink, and Tom won’t stop him until he’s passed out cold on the floor.”

Roy slid into the passenger seat of Camarin’s car.  “But…Johnny doesn’t…” Roy didn’t finish as his mind wandered.  As the hours spent on the reservation ticked by, it was almost as if he could feel his friend slipping farther and farther away, into the waiting arms of his past.

zzz

The Arrow reeked of cigarette smoke, sweat, and cheap beer.  Roy couldn’t believe he was coming to get Johnny from a place like this.  He felt like a fish out of water, partly because of the stares he was getting from the locals, but mostly because the only time he ever stepped foot in establishments as seedy as this one, was when he was called there on a rescue.  He knew Johnny well enough to know that he felt the same way…or did he?  When Roy caught sight of his best friend of five years, barely keeping himself upright in a bar stool as he held a glass of amber colored liquid to his lips, he realized he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Camarin ignored the whistles and cat calls that were aimed in her direction as she led the way through the sea of small tables to the bar.

Roy did his best not to make eye contact with anyone as he worked to tune out the racial slurs bouncing off his freckled skin.  Although he had sometimes been made fun of as a child, he was not used to this brand of ignorance and humiliation.  On its most basic level, it caused Roy’s anger to surface, but the anger was tempered with compassion and guilt as he reminded himself of the years of oppression these people faced at the hands of his kind.  As he made his way over to where Johnny sat, he reflected on the fact that this bar was filled to capacity, unlike the Harvest Moon where he and Johnny had been the only customers during the lunch hour.  Roy didn’t know whether to be disgusted or saddened by this fact.  Surely it was scenes such as this that caused so many to derive their stereotypes about Indians, how they didn’t have enough money for food, but there always seemed to be enough for alcohol.  As he watched his friend throw down the last of his drink and ask for another, while steadying himself with one hand, that stereotype began to smolder and disintegrate.  He wondered what it would be like to reach a point where dulling the senses in an effort to escape and forget was an everyday part of life.

Camarin caught the bartender’s attention as he was getting ready to hand Johnny a glass of whiskey.  “Tom, what the hell are you doing?  Can’t you see he’s had enough?”

Tom grabbed a napkin from under the counter.  “Yeah, well him and his wallet says different.”

Roy intercepted the drink, placing a hand on Johnny’s back to keep him on the stool.  He knew from experience the best way to deal with an intoxicated person was to tread easily, the judgment and inhibitions being impaired to the point where emotional outbursts could happen for no apparent reason.  He just never imagined having to deal with Johnny in this way, and the last thing he wanted was to cause further embarrassment to his friend.  “Come on, Johnny.  It’s time to go home.”

Tom noticed Roy’s hand on Johnny’s glass.  “Hey, you’re still paying for that!”

Camarin pulled a crumpled five dollar bill out of her jeans pocket and slapped it onto the bar.  “There, Tom!  That should cover it!  Now leave us alone.”

Tom pocketed the cash, shaking his head.  “Oh, no.  Guy’s been runnin’ a tab for oh…at least the past three hours now.  Someone’s gonna pay up.”

Roy was busy trying to convince Johnny that he didn’t need the glass of whiskey on the counter when he overheard Tom’s words.  He turned to him angrily, and pulled out his wallet.  “How much does he owe you?”  He pulled his wallet back as Tom bent to look inside and stuffed it back into his pocket when Tom told him he would have to add up Johnny’s bill.  By this time, Johnny had gotten hold of the whiskey and was doing his best to empty the glass in one sip.  “Johnny, come on now.  You don’t want to do this.”

Johnny deposited the glass on the table with enough clumsy force Roy was surprised it didn’t shatter.  “Mmmm…thaz good stuff.”  He looked up at the face of his friend through glassy eyes.  “Roy?  What’re…what’re you doing here?”  He threw his head back and grinned.  “You look…blurry.  You okay?”

Roy was sickened at the sound of Johnny’s slurred speech.  He had seen him drink before, but to Roy’s knowledge, he had never been drunk, at least not since he had known him.  His concern mounted into an urgent desire to drag Johnny out of this place and all the way back to LA, get him as far away from here as he could while he still resembled the friend he knew.  His medical mind conjured up the effects of alcohol on a person with a concussion and he prayed they had gotten to Johnny in time.  He was tempted to tell Camarin they were taking him straight to a hospital, in the event that his respiratory status became compromised or he lost consciousness and aspirated.  “I’m okay, Johnny.  It’s you I’m a little worried about at the moment.”

“Thaz the trouble with you, Roy.  You’re alwayz worried ‘bout somethin’.  Take a break.”  He motioned for Tom to come over.  “Here, have a drink…”

Roy meant his words for both Tom and Johnny to hear.  “I don’t want a drink, Johnny.  And neither do you.  Camarin and I are going to take you home.”

Johnny turned to face Roy, almost slipping out of his stool.  “Home?  I don’t have a home, Pally.  See…thaz my problem.  I don’t belong anywhere.  I’m red…and I’m white.  I’m a fuckin’ barber pole, man!”  Johnny started giggling.  “Or a candy cane…” The giggling continued as Johnny became more amused by his bad joke.  “Yeah…that’s a good one.  I’m a candy cane…”

Roy took Johnny’s arm and tried to lead him off the stool, his throat aching at his friend’s words.  “Come on, Johnny.”

Johnny pulled his arm out of Roy’s grasp.  “No…don’t wanna go.  I like it here.”  He pointed in Tom’s direction.  “That guy there…he’s all right.”  The motion caused by Johnny’s abrupt movement caused his head to spin.  “Hey…the roomz spinnin’.  Thaz wild…”

Roy held tightly to both of Johnny’s arms.  “No, the room isn’t spinning.  You’ve had too much to drink.  You’ll feel better if you get off this stool…”

Johnny wrinkled his brow in mock confusion.  “Drink?”  He giggled again.  “Oh…yeah.  I guess I have had a few, huh?  Well…I guess Chaske wuz right.  I’m just like my papa…”

Roy would not allow Johnny to go down this road.  No way.  “Johnny, you are nothing like your papa.”

“How would you know, Pally?  You didn’t know him.  Hell…you don’t even know me…”

Tom overheard the conversation as he handed a slip of paper to Roy.  Now that he was pretty sure he would be making no more money off these people, he decided they were taking up space that could be used for paying customers.  He decided to have a little fun.  “Oh, you’re right about that, kid.  You ain’t nothin’ like your papa.  For one thing, he could hold his liquor a hell of a lot better’n you.”

Johnny’s eyes narrowed and he tried to stand.  His legs felt like rubber and the room tilted and swirled around him.  He would have fallen to the floor, had Roy not been there to lean on.  “What are you sayin’?  You knew my papa…”

Here it was.  The scene Roy had been hoping to avoid.  “Johnny…”

Johnny cut Roy off while still holding onto him for support.  “No…no wait.  You…my papa used to buy his liquor from you?”  In Johnny’s irrational state, he focused all the hatred and blame he had been harboring toward his father onto Tom.  After all, Johnny reasoned, if his papa hadn’t been a drunk, he wouldn’t have hurt him and his mama.  At this moment, that made perfect sense.

Tom played along.  The Arrow was ripe for a good fight.  It had a tendency to make people thirsty, and he knew the locals wouldn’t stand for an outsider threatening their source of liquid entertainment.  “Your papa spent most of his time in here.  In fact, he used to sit right where you are right now.  Used to talk about the useless kid he had and the white bitch who was only good for one thing…”

In a flash, Johnny was moving across the bar.  It was so sudden, Roy barely had enough time to grab Johnny’s arm to stop the punch that would have landed squarely on Tom’s jaw.  Had Johnny’s movements not been slowed, Roy would have been spending his night trying to explain to Hannah how her fiancé had come to be arrested for assault.  That is, if there were any lawmen who cared enough about the goings on in this hole in the wall.  He held Johnny back away from the bar as Tom’s hysterical laughter drowned out the jukebox.  “Johnny, now calm down!  Don’t listen to him!  You don’t want to do this!  He’s not worth it.”

Johnny slumped back against Roy’s chest and his head dropped.  “You’re right, Pally.  I ain’t worth it.”

Roy couldn’t believe the impossibility of this situation.  How did they end up here?  He thought back to the years spent riding beside his partner in the squad, working in tandem to save lives.  He thought of Johnny’s antics at work, and the wonderful way he had with his children.  He had spent time in recent months wondering how much of that was a front, a cover up for who Johnny really was inside.  He wondered about the events in Johnny’s life that made him into the brother he loved.  But he would not accept that this was the path Johnny was to take, and he wasn’t about to let Johnny accept it either.  “That’s not what I said, Johnny.”

Johnny picked up the glass on the bar and smashed it down.  This time it was hard enough to break the thick, weighted glass.  As soon as he had done it, he wasn’t sure why, as his anger faded with the pounding of his heartbeat.  He turned to Roy.  “Hey, Roy?  I don’t…I don’t feel so good, man.”

Roy held onto his friend, supporting nearly all of his weight now.  He was grateful that Camarin had managed to quiet the small mob who had risen in Tom’s defense.  “I know, Johnny.”  He eyed Johnny’s right hand which was bleeding freely.  “Looks like you cut yourself a little here.”  He eased Johnny down into a chair and looked up at Camarin.  “Could you see if you can get me a towel or something?”

Johnny was much calmer now, a development which concerned Roy.  He looked as if he were barely holding onto consciousness.  “Get me…outta here…’k?”

Roy accepted the towel from Camarin, seething at Tom’s demands.

“Hey, you’re gonna pay for that towel!  And the glass too!”

Roy wrapped the towel around Johnny’s hand and pulled it tight.  “Sure, Johnny.  We’re gonna go right now.  Do you think you can walk?”  Roy stood and handed twenty dollars to the bartender.  “Here.  This should cover his bill, the glass, and the towel.”

Johnny allowed Roy and Camarin to help him to his feet.  “Sure…I can…I can walk.  Juz…point me to the door…cuz I can’t see too good.”

Roy and Camarin helped Johnny outside, both concerned that the more they walked, the quieter Johnny became.  Roy crawled into the back seat beside him.  “Johnny?  You with me?”

“Yeah…I’m with ya.  Where we goin’?”

Camarin turned and spoke over her shoulder.  “There should be enough room back there for him to lie down.”

Roy shook his head.  “I don’t want him to lie down.  Not yet anyway.”  Roy knew that if Johnny lost consciousness he could aspirate, so he positioned him so that he was leaning upright against his chest.  “How are you doing, Junior?”

Johnny’s words were mumbled now, and almost incoherent.  “Hmmm…hangin’…”

Roy winced and increased his grip as the Thunderbird hit a pot hole, causing Johnny to moan softly.  “It’s gonna be okay, Johnny.  I’ve got you now.  We’re going home.”  As they drove down the dark streets of the reservation, Roy decided he was going to figure out a way to do just that as soon as possible.  He was going to get Johnny home to Hannah where he belonged.

zzz

Johnny was nearly unconscious by the time Roy got him to the side of the bed.  He leaned down, still supporting Johnny’s weight until he was firmly seated on the edge.  A gentle tilt of Roy’s head allowed his friend’s limp arm to slide from around his neck and flop to the mattress.  Roy knew Johnny was fond of the occasional beer, but there was no familiar malty aroma to indicate he had had anything so benign this evening.  Roy had never known Johnny to drink hard liquor.  Even when they would be somewhere together where mixed drinks were an option, Johnny preferred a beer or a glass of wine if he drank any alcohol at all.  The fact that Johnny appeared to do nothing for the past several hours but down glass after glass of whiskey told Roy that he had gone to The Arrow with the clear intention of becoming intoxicated.  That only left the question why.  With a sigh, Roy steadied Johnny with one hand and reached down to unlace his boots with the other.

After Roy helped Johnny out of his boots, socks, and jeans, he continued to hold him upright while positioning the two available pillows against the headboard.  Then, he eased Johnny back, lifting his legs onto the bed, so that he was leaning against the headboard, practically upright.  He wished he could just allow his friend to sleep it off, but Roy knew with Johnny’s possible concussion it would be important to keep him awake until the bulk of the alcohol was out of his system, a fact that he knew Johnny would protest wholeheartedly.  He gave his shoulder a gentle shake, trying not to jostle his injured ribs too much.  “Johnny, wake up.”

It took several tries but finally Johnny stirred.  “Mmmm…go ‘way, Roy.  Let me…sssleeep.”  He made a weak attempt at batting Roy’s hand away.

Roy persisted.  “Sorry, no can do.  Come on.  Wake up and talk to me.”

Johnny kept his eyes closed, the pounding in his head keeping time with the growing nausea in his stomach.  He could taste Jack Daniels at the back of his throat, and decided that it didn’t taste any better the second time around than it had the first.  “Nothin’ ta…talk ‘bout.  Tired…”

Roy gave a quick shake of his head.  “That’s usually what happens when you spend a couple hours drinking rot gut after you already have a concussion, Johnny.  What were you thinking anyway?”  Roy felt the sting of remorse the moment the words left his mouth.  For one thing, he knew Johnny must have been feeling pretty upset and hopeless if he went to such destructive measures to escape.  And Roy also knew that a lecture in Johnny’s current condition could only serve to make his emotions more volatile. 

Fortunately Johnny didn’t seem angered by Roy’s comment.  Instead, he seemed to be continuing on the path of self hatred.  “Wasn’t…I guess.  Just wanted to…to see if…if I was juz like papa…”

Roy wondered about Johnny’s talk with his neighbor.  Had he said something to lead him down this road?  Or was it something else?  He rested a firm hand on Johnny’s arm.  “Well, you can forget about that now.  You don’t have it in you.”

“He wasn’t a…a bad man, Roy…He wuz just…he wuz…my papa…”  Johnny’s words grew more slurred as he began drifting off to sleep.  A gentle shake to his forearm brought him back around.  “Ssssorry…”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Johnny.  Just take it easy.”  Roy wondered why the change of heart.  Why did Johnny seem to be defending his father?  Was the alcohol dulling his memories or making them more vivid?  Was he remembering something or was his mind simply trying to see things the way Johnny wished they had been?  There was no way to tell.  He reached for the bar towel that was now spotted with blood.  “Here, let me take a look at that hand…”

“He wuz…sssorry…”  Johnny leaned back against the headboard and allowed Roy to slowly unwind the towel from his hand.  His breathing was becoming more shallow and rapid.  A sudden warmth enveloped his body and he began to perspire, despite the cool temperature of the unheated room.  His eyes snapped open to find that Roy had apparently recognized the signs and was ready with a bucket he had anticipated needing and had asked Camarin for when they first got home.  Unable to control the sudden intense spasms in his already painful midsection, Johnny felt his head being supported as he heaved forcefully.  After a few moments, the spasms stopped, and he heard Roy’s voice and felt his hands leaning him back against his pillows.  But no sooner had he touched the cool fabric, another wave of nausea struck and he was leaning forward again, moaning as his stomach contracted over and over again, causing his injured ribs to protest.  Finally this second bout passed, and he slumped against his pillows, exhausted and shaking, his head throbbing even worse than before.  He felt too awful to speak but continued to utter a few quiet moans of displeasure as his stomach twisted and groaned, doing its best to fight the diet of fermented liquid it had been fed.  He felt a glass at his lips and carefully took a sip, savoring the clean taste of the cool water on his tongue.  The thought of swallowing made his insides do a flip, so he swirled it around in his mouth for a few seconds and spit it out.  Roy was there with a towel, and wiped his mouth.  On some level Johnny knew he should feel embarrassed, but he was too sick to care, grateful now that his friend was here to help him through what would surely be a difficult night.  Johnny made a mental note to thank him, that is, if he was still alive in the morning to do it.

Roy watched as Johnny’s breathing slowed, hoping this was the worst the night would have to offer, but knowing it probably wasn’t.  He reluctantly allowed Johnny to drift off to sleep for a bit while he took the bucket outside and rinsed it out.  On his way back in, he passed Camarin in the hall.

“How’s John?”  Camarin glanced down at the bucket in Roy’s hand.

“I’m letting him sleep for a bit.  He’s feeling pretty miserable.”

“I figured as much.  I’m going to bed.  You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

Roy nodded gratefully.  “Sure.  Thanks.”  He suddenly felt the need to defend his friend.  “Camarin…This isn’t…I mean, Johnny doesn’t usually…”

Camarin stopped him mid sentence.  “I know, Roy.  I’m going to talk to Chaske in the morning and see what happened over there today.  If he said something to upset him…”

“Thanks, but…Johnny’s usually thicker skinned than this.  I think it’s just…never mind.”  Roy didn’t want to say what he was thinking.  That just being in this place was likely causing memories or otherwise affecting Johnny in a way that drove him to drink.  He didn’t want to appear to insult the reservation in Camarin’s presence.  After all, she had shown nothing but kindness and generosity.  But the truth was, the atmosphere here was such that depression was probably a normal state of mind.  There were no sounds of children playing happily in their yards, no neighbors talking about the latest news while sipping lemonade on their front porches.  Instead, there was a sorrow so tangible Roy felt as if he could reach out and grasp onto it, and that it could quickly pull him under.

Camarin nodded as if understanding.  Roy was unsure if she had read his mind, or if she simply respected that he didn’t want to finish his thought.  “Good night, Roy.”

“Yeah…good night.”  He watched Camarin for a while, and he briefly wondered why she remained here.  She seemed bright and educated enough that she could find a job somewhere off the reservation and make a better life for herself and the girls…or could she?  Roy realized he couldn’t even pretend to know what it would be like to be passed over for jobs simply because of the color of his skin.  He also figured that despite the recent turmoil, there was a feeling of safety and community here among Camarin’s kind.  Johnny’s kind…Quickly shaking off that thought, Roy returned to Johnny’s bedroom where he perched carefully on the side of the bed, watching his partner sleep. 

Roy picked up Johnny’s right hand gently and again unwrapped the towel.  The laceration on Johnny’s palm didn’t appear deep enough to warrant stitches, but it was about two inches long, and still oozed blood.  A closer inspection revealed a small piece of glass still embedded in the wound.  Roy sighed.  He hoped that maybe he could remove the glass while Johnny was sleeping, because without any type of numbing agent, it was sure to be painful.  And then the cut would need to be cleaned and properly dressed.  Roy laid Johnny’s hand down on the bed, palm side up and retrieved his jump bag from its spot on the floor.  He pulled out a pair of tweezers and went to work on the piece of glass.

Johnny immediately stirred.  “Hmm?  Wha…ow!”  He pulled his hand out of Roy’s grasp.

“Sorry, Johnny.  But, you’ve got a piece of glass embedded there.  I need to get it out…”

Johnny moved his hand closer to his face and studied it, trying to make out the piece of glass thru blurred eyes.  “There izz?  Wha…how’d I do this?”

Roy didn’t want to go into the whole explanation, so he hoped Johnny would be satisfied with the condensed version.  “You broke a glass at the bar, remember?”

Johnny looked up at Roy with an alcohol fogged expression.  “I wuz…at a bar?”

“Yep.”

“Really?  Why wuz I…at a bar?”  Johnny’s brows furrowed into a confused frown.

“I’d like to know the answer to that question myself.  Now let me see your hand.”

Johnny sighed and extended his hand toward Roy.  “Izzis gonna…hurt?”

Roy made eye contact with his friend before answering.  “Yeah.  It’s probably gonna hurt like hell.  I’ll try to be quick, okay?”

Johnny leaned his head back and clenched his eyes shut tight in anticipation.  He let out a yelp when the tweezers pulled the embedded glass out of his palm, but just as Roy promised, it was quick, leaving behind a sharp throb.  Johnny opened his eyes and looked down at the fresh blood seeping from the wound, and felt nausea quickly overtake him.  “Roy…”

Roy recognized the urgency in Johnny’s voice and expression and lunged for the bucket, positioning it just in time for another bout of vomiting.  As he helped Johnny as best he could through the associated discomfort, he felt as helpless as he had before the act had been passed to allow him to practice as a paramedic.  Knowing what Johnny needed and knowing it was two hours away was a lesson in frustration.  He was becoming increasingly concerned about dehydration now as Johnny seemed to bring up everything he had and then some.  “Easy, Johnny…You’re all right…”

“Bullshit…”  Johnny managed between heaves.  “N-n-not all right….feel like…shit…oh, man!”  Again he leaned his head over the bucket until the spasming in his gut dissipated.  “God…damn…”

Roy again helped Johnny lean back, concerned at his pale, diaphoretic appearance and raspy breathing.  He pulled an antiseptic wipe out of his bag and used it to clean the laceration on Johnny’s hand.  Then, he smeared on a dab of antibiotic cream and folded a 4x4 in half to use as a dressing, which he secured with rolled gauze and a generous amount of tape.  Johnny seemed to be calming again.  “How do you feel now?”

“B-better…”  Johnny’s uninjured hand came to his forehead.  “But man, Roy…”

“I know.”  Roy cleaned up his mess and again took the bucket outside to clean it.  When he came back in, he expected to see Johnny sleeping again, but instead he continued to sit with his hand to his head.  “Headache?”

“”Mong…other…thingz…”

Roy pulled out his stethoscope and BP cuff and quickly gathered Johnny’s vitals.  While they weren’t off enough to be too concerning, Roy decided they were what he would expect for someone in the process of metabolizing a hefty amount of whiskey.  He leaned in and listened to Johnny’s heart and lungs before returning everything to the bag and standing up.  “I’m sure you feel miserable, but I think you’ll pull through.  Why don’t you get some sleep?  I’ll wake you a little later.”

Johnny wanted nothing more right now but to sleep.  But his ribs were killing him, his head was throbbing, and partially digested whiskey burned bitter on his tongue.  On top of everything, his stomach was beginning to cramp and he felt hot despite the chilly room temperature, which was only slightly warmer than the 40 something degrees it was outside.  “Don’t think I…can.”

Roy pulled up the covers and tucked them around Johnny’s bare legs.  “Well try.  You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Johnny hunkered back into the pillows, cocking an eyebrow.  “No…won’t.  Gonna have…one…helluva…hangover.”

Roy didn’t know how to respond to that.  Johnny was right.  He turned down the oil lamp, cupped his hand around the chimney, and blew straight across the top, extinguishing the flame.

Johnny’s eyes were closed now, his voice low and groggy.  “Roy?  ‘F I ever…even think ‘bout…doin’ this again…please stop me…”

Roy smiled as he gave Johnny’s shoulder a pat.  “I would have stopped you this time if I had known where you were going.”

“Ssorry…Rroy…sstupid…”

“Shhh, Johnny.  Everyone’s entitled to a bender once in a while…just go to sleep.”

“”Kay…”  Suddenly feeling chilled, Johnny pulled the covers up around his shoulders and drifted off. 

zzz

Johnny ran, keeping his father in sight, until he saw him turn onto the dusty path leading to the old school.  The baseball bat was cumbersome and slowed his progress, but Johnny was a fast runner and managed to keep up with his lanky father’s long strides.  He reached the field behind the school and noticed Red Elk had stopped, leaning his hand against the towering weeping birch tree Johnny liked to climb, trying to catch his breath.  Now’s my chance, thought Johnny, as he ran toward the tree, brandishing the bat with both hands.

“I can kill too, papa!  Didn’t you say you wished I was more like you?”  Johnny swung the bat as hard as he could, but his strength was no match for Red Elk, who was able to halt the impending blow with one hand.

Johnny dropped the bat and stood staring up at his father, his tearing eyes full of questions. He knew he would likely face punishment for crying in papa’s presence, but he didn’t care.  He couldn’t stop.

Red Elk looked down on his son, his eyes at first registering hate and disappointment which melded into an emotion Johnny did not recognize, at least not in his father.  “Don’t cry…crying makes you look weak…”

Johnny cringed and readied himself for the blow he was sure would follow on the heels of Red Elk’s words.  He had heard them too often not to know how his papa felt about his crying.  But still he couldn’t force himself to stop.  His mama was gone, and Johnny had questions that needed answered.  “But…papa, why?”

Red Elk began closing the small gap between him and his son.  “Don’t cry…just remember.  Remember this day…and know that it could happen to you…”

Johnny’s small body shook with fear.  Now papa was threatening him.  Would he now suffer the same fate as his mama?  He took a step back.

Red Elk moved closer, his eyes full of tears that refused to fall.  He extended his arms, reaching out for his son.  “Don’t cry, son…Don’t cry…”

Johnny watched his papa in confusion and wonderment.  His heart wanted so badly to believe that papa was sorry for what he had done, was sorry for everything, all the years of abuse and suffering.  But, his brain warned him to be cautious.  He picked up the bat and held onto it, his whole body trembling.  He felt papa’s hands wrap around the handle and slide it from his grasp.  Before he had a chance to react, his head exploded in a flash of light and pain.

How much time had passed, Johnny wasn’t sure.  His nostrils caught the faint hint of a familiar, sweet perfume.  He blinked open his eyes to see a young girl with a yellow flower in her hair.  She was holding him, rocking, and smoothing his long hair away from his face as she sang him his favorite song.  She must have noticed he was awake, because suddenly the song stopped, and she soothed.  “It’s okay now, Sumanitu.  You will live with mama and me.  It’s over now…it’s all over…”

Johnny turned his head and cried out at the pain that coursed through it, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.  His papa was on the ground, his face turned toward Johnny, his eyes looking at him with the same lifeless stare he had seen on his mama.  “Papa!”

The girl held Johnny tightly.  “Shhh…it’s all over now.  It’s all over…”

“Camarin!”  Johnny bolted upright in bed, immediately regretting it as another furious wave of nausea crashed over him.

Roy jerked awake from his doze and grabbed for the bucket, but this time he was too late.  Johnny had already thrown up what was left of the liquor in his stomach, which although enough to soil his clothing and linens, wasn’t much.  He supported Johnny through the painful dry heaves that followed.

Johnny kept trying to speak among the crippling spasms, needing to talk to Roy about the dream he just had before it retreated into the subconscious space dreams fade into not long after waking.  But, the only word he could force out was “Camarin.”

Unaware of the dream, Roy interpreted Johnny’s mutterings in his own way.  “Johnny, it’s the middle of the night.  Camarin’s sleeping.  What do you need?”

Johnny’s fingers wrapped around Roy’s forearm with vice like intensity.  “Roy…Camarin…she…”

“Try to slow your breathing down, Johnny.  Take some slow, deep breaths.”

Johnny leaned against Roy’s shoulder, completely spent, but his mind was too alert now for sleep.  He focused on Roy’s hushed instructions as he worked to follow them.  Finally, when he could catch his breath again, he spoke muffled revelations into Roy’s shirt.  “Camarin…she was there…”

Roy waited until he was sure Johnny’s latest bout of vomiting had subsided, before helping him lean back.  He was a mess, Johnny was a mess, and he wanted to get started cleaning up.  But, he could sense there was something Johnny needed to talk about now.  “Camarin was where, Johnny?”

Johnny raised his chin, tipping his face toward the ceiling and closing his eyes.  “She was…oh, God, Roy…”

Realizing now that Johnny must have had either a nightmare or a memory…perhaps both, Roy did his best to encourage him to talk.  “Take it easy…did you remember something else?”

Johnny’s eyes opened, and he looked down.  “She was there…papa didn’t die in an accident…he was…I think she…”

Roy didn’t want to follow where his perception was leading him.  “You think she what, Johnny?”

Johnny shook his head, not wanting to believe.  There had to be another explanation.  “I saw…I remember…my papa.  He was dead, Roy.  Someone killed him.  And…Camarin was there.”

Roy placed a firm hand on Johnny’s arm.  “Johnny, that doesn’t mean…”

“There was no one else, Roy!  We were alone…she told me I could live with her and her mama…she kept telling me it was all over…”

Roy felt shivers trickle down his spine.  Could Johnny be right?  Could Camarin have done such a thing?  For a while Roy had dreaded Johnny learning the truth, because he was afraid that his friend would find out that he was the one who had killed his father.  He supposed this was a slightly better outcome…maybe.  “What do you remember?  Did you actually see her…”

“No…no…one minute I was standing there…and papa took the bat from me.  Then the next thing I remember is waking up…and Camarin was…holding me.”

Roy’s mind raced with a dozen possible explanations.  What if Johnny had killed his father and Camarin had seen it?  It would make sense that she would want to protect him, possibly convincing others on the reservation to concoct the story about the accident.   But would such a small, malnourished boy have been any match for a grown man?  On the other hand, if Camarin had done it, wouldn’t she also have wanted to protect herself?  Of course, there were other possible scenarios as well.  And the most important thing to remember right now was that this was a dream.  It was possible these events didn’t happen at all.  “Johnny, why don’t you talk to Camarin about this in the morning?  After all, it was just a dream…”

“No, Roy.  It wasn’t just a dream.  It’s the same as before.  I remember now.  Camarin was there.  Then the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.  I don’t know how I got there.  My grandfather was with me, and eventually he took me home.  I never saw Camarin after that.”

Roy began pulling the soiled blanket off the bed.  “Okay.  But still, I think you should talk to Camarin.  If she was there, then she should remember.  Maybe she can tell you the whole story.”

“Yeah…yeah, maybe.”  Johnny allowed Roy to help him out of his shirt and over to the small chair by the window.  He felt the room spin as he got to his feet and for a moment, thought he was going to be sick again.  He grabbed the bucket and placed it between his feet.  “There’s something else too, Roy.”

Roy rolled up the bed linens and placed them in a pile near the door.  He wondered where Camarin kept the spares, if she had any spares.  “What’s that?”

Johnny steadied himself by placing one hand on the wall for support.  “My papa…I think…I think he was sorry for what he did.  I don’t know for sure, but…I could swear that…”

Roy could see that his friend was struggling.  He stopped what he was doing and knelt beside the chair.  “I’m sure on some level he was sorry, Johnny.  After all, he loved your mama enough to marry her, to have a child with her.  Alcohol…well, it can…”

Johnny raised his hand, the mere thought of alcohol causing him to taste bile.  “I know.  You don’t have to tell me.  Still, that doesn’t excuse…I’m sorry, Roy.  There’s no way I can ever have the answers to all my questions.  We’ll never know what led my papa to make the choices he did.  You don’t need to sit here and listen to me rambling on about it.  You’ve done enough for me already.”  Johnny pointed to the crumpled blanket and sheet.

Roy knew he was taking advantage of the decreased inhibitions Johnny currently possessed, but he justified it by telling himself how good it would be for Johnny to ramble all he wanted, to talk about the questions that he had.  It didn’t matter that it was intoxication causing his friend to open up.  In fact, Roy thought it would be good to hear Johnny speak so easily.  “Listen, I don’t mind.  And we have time.  If you want to talk about something…it’s okay.”

Johnny rubbed his temples.  His nausea was thankfully beginning to subside, but now his head pounded even fiercer than before.  “Nah…it’s all right.  Thanks, but…my head is killing me.”

Roy was a little disappointed, but he understood.  He was sure Johnny’s head was killing him and would likely get worse before it got better.  “I’m sure it does.  Do you think you could keep some Tylenol down?”

Johnny moved a hand to his diaphragm.  “I don’t think I better try it.”

Roy stood and patted Johnny’s shoulder.  “Okay, well…let me get rid of this stuff, and I’ll see if I can find some fresh things for on the bed.”  He grabbed a T-shirt and boxers out of Johnny’s duffle bag.  “Do you think you can handle getting changed?”

Johnny kept one hand at his head, and accepted the offered clothes with the other.  “Yeah…I can manage.  Thanks.”

Roy left the room, and stepped out into the hall.  He was surprised to hear hushed voices coming from the direction of the kitchen.  Looking down at his watch, he realized it was almost five a.m.  He supposed that wasn’t too early for Camarin to be up, especially if she was going to work.  He headed down the hall, intending to ask her what he should do with the dirty bed linens.  He stopped short and remained just outside the door when he realized the discussion in the kitchen was about Johnny.  He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t fight the urge to protect his partner and best friend.  And so he stayed there, listening.

zzz

“All I’m saying is we’ve managed to keep this secret for over twenty years now.  And I don’t like that he’s here asking all these questions.  What if he’s working for the goons or the police?  What if they know something, and they’re investigating…”

“He’s not working for anyone, Chaske.  I don’t know how I know that, but I just know.  Something happened…something that made him remember things…”

“What, Camarin?  What’s he remembering?”  Chaske’s voice was colored with nervous fear.

Camarin leaned her elbows on the table, unsure how much she should reveal.  “I don’t know.  Just…things.  Things about his parents, and the day they were killed.  Right now I think it’s just bits and pieces, but enough that he knows they didn’t die in a car accident.  We haven’t had a lot of time to talk about it really, with me working, and he hasn’t been feeling well…”

Chaske sneered.  “Yeah, I heard he ran into some trouble with Chaz and his buddies.”

There was something about the way Chaske’s voice sounded that caused Camarin to be suspicious.  “Chaske Silver Feather, so help me if you put them up to that…”

 

“Oh, come on, Camarin!  You know as well as me that Chaz and his boys don’t need no reason to cause trouble.  ‘Sides, word goin’ around is they were protecting you.”

Camarin sighed, knowing there was probably some truth to this rumor.  “Well, I don’t need any protecting.”

Chaske stood up from the table, and walked to the door.  His back was to Camarin when he spoke again.  “So, what now?  What are we gonna do?”

Camarin sat up straight in her chair and stared at Chaske’s back.  Her voice was filled with resolve.  “If he asks me a direct question…I won’t lie to him.”

Chaske spun around, his eyes brimming with betrayal.  “We all made a promise, Camarin!  We’ve all kept that promise for over twenty years…”

Camarin stood up.  “Right!  We kept that promise and we’ve kept the secret.  No one else really cared all that much.  And John didn’t remember anything, and Red Horse went along because he didn’t want anything to do with us or the rez anyway.  But, John remembers now, Chaske!  And he’s confused…and I’ve seen that same lost look in his eyes he used to have when he was little.  It’s his family…his parents.  Don’t you think he has a right to know the truth?”

Chaske issued a challenge.  “You gonna tell him the whole truth?”

Camarin’s eyes dropped to the floor.  “What…what do you mean…”

“I mean the truth, Camarin!  You tell him about what really happened to his papa, and maybe I’ll tell him the truth about what his papa did to you!”

Camarin took a step closer, angry now.  “You wouldn’t dare…”

“And while I’m at it, maybe I’ll tell him the other truth…you know, the one about a man who slept with a woman who wasn’t his wife…then the woman had a daughter…”

Camarin’s eyes were pleading.  “He doesn’t need to know about that.  That was eight years before he was even born.  Elizabeth hadn’t even come to live with Red Elk…”

“But you just said…he deserves to know the truth about his…family.  Right?”

Camarin leaned against the counter near the window.  She looked outside and seemed to be deep in thought.  Her eyes filled with tears as she considered the truth.  “Maybe he does.”

Chaske was a little disappointed that his attempt at a threat may not have worked.  “You mean…”

Camarin turned to face him.  “Maybe he does, Chaske.  Maybe he deserves to know all of it.  Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep that from him?  I loved him so much…”

Chaske thought of Elizabeth.  He had loved her too, but look what that had gotten him.  Years of bitterness and fear.  “Look.  I’m 48 years old.  I’ve managed to live all these years keeping the secret.  All I’m saying is…I’d like to be able to live out the time I have left in peace.  If you tell him…”

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell him, all right?  But at the very least…please…don’t you say anything.  Let me handle this.  Especially…”  Camarin’s voice trailed off and she watched Chaske’s face to see if he got her meaning.  “I should be the one to tell him about that.”

Chaske made one more attempt.  “Camarin, please…”

“I’ll see what I can do, Chaske.  That’s all I can promise right now.”  Camarin opened the door and indicated it was time for her neighbor to leave.

Chaske watched Camarin’s eyes for several moments as if trying to glean her intention.  Finally, he shook his head, and headed home, feeling frustrated and angry at Johnny’s sudden intrusion into his life.

zzz

Roy stood outside the kitchen feeling a mixture of worry and guilt, worry for his friend and the can of worms he apparently had opened by coming here, and guilt over his own uncharacteristic eavesdropping.  He took a few seconds to gather himself, and entered the kitchen.

Camarin turned, startled at the sound of shoes on the thin floor.  “Oh, Roy.  It’s you.”  She noticed the pile of laundry in his hands and a confused expression crossed her face.

“These will need washed.  Where do you want me to put them?”

Camarin pointed toward the door.  “Just put them out on the patio for now.  I’ll wash them up later.  There are clean ones in the closet in the girls’ room.  I’ll get them for you…”  Camarin started to move toward the hall, and jumped as Roy’s hand caught her arm.

As quickly as Roy had grabbed Camarin’s wrist, he released his grip.  He hadn’t meant to scare her, but he had some questions and he needed to ask them now.  “I’m sorry…I just…can I talk to you a minute?”

Camarin’s stomach knotted with anxiety.  “Sure, I guess so.”

Roy deposited his load of laundry outside and closed the door.  He turned to Camarin and spoke hesitantly at first.  “I…uh…well, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I don’t normally go around listening in on people’s conversations…but I couldn’t help but overhear a little of what you and your neighbor were just saying, and I could tell that you were talking about Johnny…and…well…”

The chill crawling up and down Camarin’s back gave way to understanding.  Roy had admitted Johnny was like a brother to him.  How could she blame him for wanting to protect him?  “You care about him.”

Roy breathed a sigh of relief that still did not completely satisfy his guilty conscience.  “I just don’t want him hurt.”

Camarin sat down at the table and motioned for Roy to do the same.  “I understand, Roy.  I don’t want to hurt John either.  That’s what I was trying to explain to Chaske.”

“Why is Chaske so concerned about this?  What’s his involvement here?”  Roy didn’t know much about Johnny’s former neighbor, but he knew enough that he didn’t trust him yet.

Camarin scratched her head, her brows knitting as her conscience debated over how much she should tell Roy about what happened.  He was Johnny’s friend, yes.  But, he was still an outsider.  “I can’t really tell you that, Roy.  I’m sorry.  I want to…it’s just…”

“Are you afraid of what Chaske might do?  Do you think he would hurt you…or Johnny?”

Camarin shook her head.  She could understand why Roy might think that with his fragmented picture of her neighbor, but there was more to Chaske than he realized, and it was too complicated to explain.  “Chaske’s not a bad man.  He really isn’t.  He’s just…”  Scared.  “He used to…he cared a lot about Johnny’s mother, Elizabeth.  It hit him hard when she was killed, and he really doesn’t want to dredge up the past.  He’s not angry at John.  He just views him as…as…”

“A threat?”

Camarin suppressed a shiver.  Roy had struck the nail on the head.  She did her best to sidestep the whole truth.  “In a way, yes.  A threat to his closure about what happened years ago.  He found a way to deal with things and move on, and John’s being here…well, it just brings it all out into the open again.”

Roy couldn’t help but think Camarin wasn’t being entirely truthful with him.  Maybe it was the way she was avoiding looking him in the eye, or maybe it was intuition drawn from his own inclination to protect his friend.  Still, he didn’t want to confront Camarin and risk putting an end to this discussion.  “Okay.  I guess that makes sense.” 

Roy looked across the table at Camarin, noticing her almost perfect features anew in light of the things he had just overheard.  There was something about her nose…her mouth…her eyes.  Yes, definitely her eyes.  Roy couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.  Goosebumps riddled his flesh as suddenly the truth came into chilling focus.  He couldn’t decide if he was angry at Camarin, or if he felt sorry for her.  Perhaps it was both.  Obscuring it all, though, was the affection he held for his best friend.  There was nothing Roy would not do to protect Johnny, and he knew Johnny felt the same way.  So as the suspicion he harbored shifted and grew into an idea so simultaneously unbelievable yet obvious, he spoke without regard for consequence.  “You’re Johnny’s sister, aren’t you?”

Camarin felt as though all of the air had been sucked from the room.  She supposed she should be relieved, to finally have the weight of this burden she had carried all her life suddenly lifted from her shoulders.  But no matter how hard she tried to feel happy, her mind turned to her mother, to the shame she would have faced if people had known Camarin was an illegitimate child.  She thought of the guilt her mother took with her to her grave, guilt over having a child who belonged to her best friend’s husband and guilt for believing there should have been something she could have said to Red Elk that would have saved Elizabeth’s life.  Then there was guilt over something else…something so horrible Camarin had spent the better part of her life trying to shut out the memory of it, something for which her mama had never been able to forgive herself.  I’m sorry, mama.  Camarin’s hands moved to her eyes, which were now flooded with tears of sorrow, guilt, shame…and love.  She nodded her head.

Roy was momentarily speechless.  So Johnny has a sister.  Will he be happy at this news, or will he feel betrayed?  He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it across the table to Camarin.  “Hey, I’m sorry…it’s just…some of the things I heard…and well, you look so much like him…I didn’t mean to…”

Camarin wiped at her eyes and reached across the table to cup her hands over Roy’s.  For some reason, this man made her feel at ease, and she didn’t feel uncomfortable sharing this secret with him.  After all, he certainly knew the adult version of her half brother better than she did, and she figured she would need his help coming up with the best way to tell him.  “It’s okay.  I…You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell him.  Back then, there were just too many reasons not to.  If anyone had known Red Elk…our papa…had slept with my mama…”  Her voice trailed off, allowing Roy’s mind to fill in the blanks.   “And now…well, I didn’t know if he would be better off knowing or not knowing.  I don’t want to hurt him.”

Roy’s eyes were kind and understanding.  “I know you don’t.  And I appreciate that.  I’ve known Johnny for five years now, and it amazes me how little I really know about him.  But, one thing I do know is that he’ll be glad about this.  He’ll be shocked at first, and I’m sure he’ll have a lot of questions…he’ll feel betrayed probably.  But, you have to understand the reason is…he’s about the most loyal person I’ve ever met.  And because of that, he expects that same loyalty from everyone else.  It opens him up to be easily hurt, even though most of the time he blows it off and tries to make it seem like it’s water off his back.  But, those of us who are fortunate enough to know him well…we can see it.”

Camarin felt uneasy at Roy’s assumption that she should so openly offer Johnny the truth.  “So, you’re saying I should tell him?”

Roy turned his hands over and grasped onto Camarin’s.  He looked her straight in the eye, his expression revealing nothing but encouragement.  “I think he deserves to know…don’t you?”

zzz

Roy entered the bedroom carrying a fresh set of sheets and a hand woven blanket.  He found Johnny sprawled on the bed sideways with his arm draped over his eyes.  Although Roy knew this was his friend’s preferred sleeping position, he could tell Johnny was not asleep.  He placed the linens on the bare mattress, and sat down on the foot of the bed.

Johnny moved his arm and cracked open one eye with a moan. 

Roy thought that under other circumstances, the sight of his friend suffering the effects of a hangover from hell might have been comical, and he could not help just the slightest inward grin.  “How are you doing?”

Johnny replaced the arm.  “As soon as this flock of woodpeckers gets done pecking away at the inside of my skull I’ll let you know.”

“Head hurts pretty bad, huh?”

“Roy…I think I would take a concussion over a hangover any day of the week.  Please don’t let me drink whiskey ever again, okay?”

Roy couldn’t resist a brief chuckle.  “You got it.  Oh, and in case you forgot, you have a concussion, Johnny.  I’m sure that’s making things worse.”

Johnny once again lifted his arm away from his face and wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.  “I do?  How’d I get that?  Oh, man.  Don’t tell me…I don’t think I wanna know.”

Roy was a little concerned that Johnny didn’t remember how he had gotten his concussion until he reminded himself of the amnesiac effects of too much alcohol.  “You had a little…discussion…with Chaz and his friends the other day, remember?”

Lowering his arm in order to rub his forehead, Johnny sighed.  “Oh…that’s right.”

Roy reached over and gently wrapped his fingers around Johnny’s wrist, counting his pulse.  “How do you feel otherwise?  Are you still nauseous?”  He watched as Johnny’s hand seemed to move to his stomach of its own accord.

“Yeah…a little.  Not much.  I think I threw up everything but my stomach lining though.”  He winced at the memory of painful heaving.

“Actually, I may have noticed a little of that in that last bucket I carried outside.”  At Johnny’s plaintive expression, Roy curbed his attempt at humor.  “Sorry.”

Johnny’s hand moved to his right side.  “Man, my ribs are killing me.”

“I bet.”  Suddenly Roy was all business.  It hadn’t occurred to him until now that if Johnny had fractured a rib, it could have caused damage with the workout it endured during the night.  His hands moved to the area being guarded by Johnny’s hand.  “How bad is it?  You’re not having any trouble breathing or anything, are you?”

Johnny removed his hand and allowed Roy to lift his T shirt and palpate the injured area.  He jerked and cried out as Roy’s fingers passed over one particularly sensitive spot.  “Ow!  Easy!”  Johnny instantly regretted raising his voice as the pain in his head intensified.  It was then that he noticed the first rays of the morning sun filtering through the thin cloth covering the window.  Most mornings he found the sun a soothing catalyst between sleep and consciousness.  But this morning, it seemed to be assaulting his eyes with poisoned darts.  He squinched his eyes shut and raised his hand to his forehead.  “Roy…you think you could put something over that window?”

Satisfied that Johnny didn’t appear to have caused any additional damage to his ribs, Roy looked over at the window.  He grabbed his sweatshirt out of his suitcase and draped it over the rod, positioning it in order to completely darken the room.  “Is that better?”

“Yeah…why’s it…so cold in here?”

Roy pulled one of Johnny’s sweat shirts out of his bag, along with a pair of sweat pants.  “Because it’s cold outside, Johnny.  We’re in South Dakota, remember?  Besides, I don’t think there’s any heat in here.”

Johnny shivered as he allowed Roy to help him into some warmer clothes.  Fifteen years in southern California had almost allowed him to forget how frigid it could get on the reservation.  “Yeah…probably not.  Thanks,” he said as he wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to keep his muscles from twitching and further aggravating the pain in his midsection.

Roy helped Johnny to his feet.  “Here, why don’t I get these sheets on the bed?  This blanket looks nice and warm.  You can wrap up in it and get some rest.  Your head will feel better after a nap.”

Johnny looked at the blanket Roy was referring too.  It looked just like the colorful blankets his mama used to make when he was a boy.  He briefly wondered if it might be one of hers, but then reminded himself that surely it could have been woven by one of fifty other women on the reservation, including Camarin.  “Yeah…a nap sounds good.”

Roy helped Johnny settle into bed and was just about to leave him alone for a while when there was a knock on the door.  The sound startled Roy, but to Johnny, it may as well have been a jackhammer tearing up the floor two inches from his head.  He never heard Roy walk to the door.

Camarin entered dubiously, to the sound of moaning.  She looked at Roy, concerned.  “Is he all right?”

Roy smiled.  “Yeah…maybe just…knock a little quieter next time.”

Camarin returned the smile.  “Oh, oops.  Sorry.”  She approached the bed with a steaming mug in her hands.

Johnny opened his eyes at the soothing aroma of mint accompanied by an underlying hint of something else…something familiar, but he couldn’t place it.  “Hi, Camarin.”

Camarin took in the appearance of the man on the bed.  He looked exhausted and pale, and the dark rings under his eyes made him appear older than his years.  It reminded her of the little boy she once knew…who was forced to grow up too quickly.  “Good morning.  I brought you some tea if you feel like you can tolerate something in your stomach.”

Johnny pushed himself up with a wince and a moan and regarded the hot liquid with curiosity.  “What is it?”

“It’s my own personal hangover remedy.  It’s got peppermint to relieve nausea…and willow bark for your headache.”

Johnny wasn’t sure if putting anything into his irritated stomach was wise at this point, but he thought back to the herbal remedies his mama and others relied on when he was young.  Some of them worked even better than the synthetic drugs he had become so used to over the years.  He accepted the mug and took a tentative sip.  It felt soothing going down, seeming to coat his throat which was still burning from its numerous encounters with stomach acid.  And a calming warmth seemed to fill him from the inside out.  “Thanks.  That’s good.”

Camarin resisted the urge to place a hand to Johnny’s forehead, instead settling for a quick squeeze of his hand.  “You’re welcome.  There’s more out there if you want it.”  Turning to Roy, she added, “Just heat up some water on the stove.  You’ll find the tea in a jar on the counter.  It’s the one that’s sitting out.  You’ll need to put it in an infusion…”  At Roy’s confused expression, Camarin smiled.  “You know what?  How about if I just show you before I leave for work?”

Roy nodded.  “That would be good.”

Johnny took another sip of tea and was reminded of his friend back home.  “You know, Camarin.  I have a friend back in LA…he’s really into alternative medicine and herbal remedies.  His name is Justin.  Maybe you could meet him sometime.”

Camarin wasn’t really sure what Johnny meant by the term “alternative medicine” but she figured in his mind it now meant the ways of his ancestors.  She puzzled at the term, but in the end she supposed she understood.  It just seemed odd to refer to the methods of the Lakota medicine men, tried and still trusted methods that had been passed down for thousands of years as “alternative.”  “Yeah, I think I’d like to meet your friend someday.”

Camarin turned back to Roy.  “So, he’s going to be okay?”

Roy watched Johnny as he sipped at the aromatic brew Camarin prepared for him.  “Yeah, he’ll be fine.  Just needs some peace and quiet for a few hours, that’s all.”

As Roy and Camarin turned to leave, Johnny spoke, memories of last night’s dream fresh in his mind.  “Camarin?  Do you think…well, could we talk later on?”

Camarin walked back over to the bed and rested her hand on Johnny’s cheek.  “Yes we can, Sumanitu.  We have a lot to talk about.”

zzz

It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon when Roy looked up to see a very scruffy version of his best friend enter the kitchen.  “Well, I hope you’re feeling a little more human, because you kind of look like Bigfoot.”

Johnny raised a hand to rub the one and a half days’ worth of stubble on his face and chin.  “Yeah, I was hoping to heat some water and get cleaned up a bit.”

“How’s the headache?”

“Better.  But it’s still there.”  Johnny noticed Roy was reading something off a slip of paper.  “What’s that?”

Without looking up from the note Camarin had left for him, Roy spoke.  “It’s a recipe Camarin left me for another kind of tea to make for you.  She said it’s for headaches and body aches.  Do you want some?”

Johnny plopped down at the table in the seat opposite his friend.  There were several jars in front of him containing dried herbs and he picked one up and began studying its contents.  “You know, you never cease to amaze me.”

Roy finally looked up from his instructions.  “That sounds like my line.  But, what’s on your mind?”

Johnny indicated the herb filled jars.  “Just…you…this.  I never saw you take much interest when Justin talks about herbal remedies.”

“Well, I guess you’re right.  It’s just not the way I was raised, I suppose.”  Roy picked up a jar labeled “willow bark.”  “But, you know I did read that book he gave me, and I was very interested to learn that salicylic acid comes from the bark of the willow tree.  It’s really interesting to me that your ancestors used aspirin long before the pharmaceutical companies capitalized on it.”

Johnny took the jar from Roy.  “Yeah, and the thing is…it works better than the aspirin we buy in bottles, because this…”  He held up the jar.  “…is in its purest form.  It’s very potent.”

“Well it certainly seems to have made you feel better.”  Roy stood and moved toward the stove.  “So do you want some, or not?”

“I don’t know, Roy.  I was thinking maybe after I get cleaned up we could head over to the diner.  I never called Hannah last night and she’ll be…”

“I did, Johnny.  On the way back from The Arrow.  We stopped at the diner long enough for me to call home.”  Roy put a pan of water on the stove to warm so Johnny could wash and shave.

Johnny’s face blanched.  “You called?  Roy, you didn’t…”

“I didn’t tell anyone you’d been drinking, Johnny.  I talked to Joanne and I told her to tell Hannah you weren’t feeling well but that you were okay.”

Johnny was still not appeased.  “She’ll still be worried.  She’ll wonder why I didn’t call her myself.”

“I took care of that, Johnny.  I reminded Jo that the only phone we have access to is the one at the diner.  I told her that you had fallen asleep and that I didn’t want to wake you.  And that you would be plenty mad later on to find that I had stolen your keys so you could get some rest.”

Johnny let out a long sigh.  “Okay…thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  Now do you want me to leave you alone so you can get decent?”  Roy handed Johnny a wash cloth.

Johnny grabbed the cloth with a sneer.  “Oh, ha ha.  Just go get me my razor, would ya?”

Roy shook his head, smiling, as he stepped into the hallway.

Johnny called after him.  “I still wanna go to the diner though.  I want to talk to Camarin about the dream I had last night.”

A few minutes later Roy returned with the razor, soap, and a towel, along with a fresh set of clothing for his friend.  He locked the back door and pulled the curtain closed over the window.  There were no other windows in the small room to be concerned about.  “Yeah, I think it would be a good idea to talk to her.  Do you want me to stay here or come along?”

Johnny shrugged as he began lathering his face.  “You can come along, I guess.  May as well get something to eat while we’re there.”

Roy wondered if Johnny was feeling better enough to eat or if he had been only referring to him.  He filled the tea kettle full of water and placed it on the stove burner.  “I put some more water on in case you want to wash your hair.”

Johnny glanced toward the kettle.  “Yeah…I do.  Thanks.”

“You’re probably going to have some trouble lifting that kettle above your head.  Why don’t you call me when you’re ready and I’ll help you?  I can change that dressing on your hand when we’re done.”

Johnny winced as he removed his sweatshirt, realizing that there would be no way his injured ribs would tolerate his holding an iron kettle aloft.  He hated accepting help from Roy for such a personal task as washing his hair, but then he figured after what his friend had done for him last night, this would be a step up.  “Yeah, okay.  I’ll uh…give you a holler when I’m through here.”

Roy exited the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind him.

zzz

Johnny refused Camarin’s offer of something off the menu, his stomach still not feeling quite up to receiving greasy diner fare.  He waited until she returned with Roy’s meal to ask her when would be a good time to make good on her earlier promise.  “Camarin?  Uh…I know you’re working now and all.  But I was wondering…”

“We can talk anytime you want, John.  We can do it right now, or wait until tonight when I come home.  It’s up to you.”

Johnny thought for a moment.  He really wanted to talk now.  Anticipation and anxiety had been building up inside him to the point where his chest actually was beginning to feel constricted.  But, he didn’t want Camarin to get in trouble with Jake for talking instead of working.  But if they waited until tonight, there would be the girls to consider.  They hadn’t seen Camarin at all last night thanks to him, and he felt a pang of guilt that he would be taking her away from them again if they waited until later.  “Well…I don’t know.  You’re working now…”

Camarin looked around the deserted diner.  “Well, it’s not exactly like we’re busy now is it?  Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee, and we can talk now?”  Camarin knew Johnny was concerned about Jake’s reaction to her having a conversation on the clock.  But, he had already informed her earlier this morning that he was letting her go as of the end of the month.  He was closing the diner and heading to New York State to open up a restaurant with his brother.  Camarin wasn’t sure what she and the girls were going to do, but figured that was her burden, not Johnny’s, so she had decided not to share it with him.  “Don’t worry.  Jake won’t mind.”

Johnny gave her a skeptical look.  “Okay, if you’re sure.”  He watched as Camarin smiled and walked behind the counter to prepare the coffee.

Roy took a bite of his sandwich.  “Are you sure you don’t want any of this, Johnny?  There’s plenty here.”

“Huh?  No…thanks.”

Roy dropped his sandwich to his plate and regarded his friend.  “You need to try to eat sometime, Johnny.  You’ve barely had anything since…”

 

“I know, Roy.  Just…I’ll eat later, okay?”

Roy sighed and changed the subject.  “Are you sure you want me here for this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Camarin returned and sat down at the table.  “That will take a little while to brew.”  She looked at Johnny and could tell he was trying to think of a way to begin.  She decided to help him along.  “So, John.  I know your visit here wasn’t for nostalgic reasons.  We’ve talked a little, but we really haven’t had time to really get into your reasons for being here.  You’re remembering things about your childhood, right?”

Johnny swallowed hard and stared at his hands, which were folded in front of him and resting on the table.  “Yeah.”

“Well, I remember the day you lost a lot of your memories.  There are a few of us here…who know the real story about what happened that day.  From what I was told, you never remembered the truth, that you left here when you were a teenager, and that you didn’t tell anyone where you were going.  No one has seen or heard from you since.”

Johnny spoke without raising his eyes.  “After tunkaschila died, I came back to the rez.  I didn’t remember you.  If you knew I was here…why didn’t you…”

“When I came back after Tate left me, mama told me about the fire.  She told me you had come back to the rez for a few months, but you were already gone when I got here.  But, even if I had found you, John.  You didn’t remember me.  And I wouldn’t have told you the truth.  Not back then.”

Johnny finally focused his eyes on Camarin.  “But you’re ready to tell the truth now.  Why?”

Camarin was visibly uncomfortable.  “I…I don’t know.  Maybe because a lot of years have passed.  Maybe it’s because as adults we see things differently.”

Johnny took a deep breath and released it.  He watched Camarin’s face for a while as if he were trying to figure out the best way to proceed.  Finally, he settled on sharing the events that led him here in the first place.  “Last September…someone assaulted me at my home.  I was severely injured, and spent a long time in the hospital.  For some reason, while I was there, I started having dreams…only…they weren’t dreams.  Not exactly.  Well, some of them were…it’s hard to explain.  Anyway, I always thought my parents were killed in an accident.  I never remembered much of anything about my papa, and not a whole lot about my mama.  I always assumed it was because they died when I was so young.  I remembered waking up at the hospital, and going to live on tunkaschila’s ranch.  I remember coming back here after he died.  I tried to make it work for a while…tried to find a job.  It was hard…”  Johnny pressed his hands to his temples.  “People here on the rez didn’t seem to want me around…used to call me names, no one would really talk to me or have anything to do with me.  So I went off the rez to try and find work.  But, no one would hire me.  I found some old letters under a floorboard at my house.  They were letters from my mama’s sister in Los Angeles.  I never knew mama had a sister, and I had never heard of Los Angeles.  I started to write to her, and she told me that out there, people came in all colors.  At the time, anything sounded better than here, so I hitched my way out there.  She let me stay with her, and I went to school.  A lot of people were more tolerant there, but the kids at school…they were relentless.  I didn’t have many friends…”

Roy sat enthralled at the words gushing forth from the depths of Johnny’s memory.  Most of this was news to him, as Johnny had never shared it.

Camarin noticed the pause indicating how difficult this was for Johnny to share.  “Go on, John.  So then you became a firefighter?”

Johnny smiled slightly.  “Yeah…I guess it all kind of started when tunkaschila died, you know?  I got to thinking that there should have been some way I could have prevented that…that I should have been able to save him.  I got it into my head that no one should have to die the way he did, and when the recruiters for the LA county fire department came to my school my senior year, I signed up.” 

Johnny thought back on the rest of the story, the part he didn’t choose to share.  While it was true that his grandfather’s death had been the impetus for his chosen profession, he didn’t mention the two years of being made fun of at the hands of his classmates, where he had been reminded over and over again how skinny and weak he was, how he was a “lousy half breed who would never accomplish anything.”  Yes, part of the reason Johnny chose firefighting as a profession was to show the world that he was strong and brave, and that he could make a difference, do something important with his life.  He chose rescue firefighting, in particular, because he wanted to be able to save people from experiencing the fate his grandfather had, and also because after the death of his aunt, he really didn’t care anymore what happened to him.  It was true that being a rescue man was dangerous work, and he figured if he volunteered, then the husbands, sons, and fathers could have a better chance of returning home to their families at the end of their shift.  Then, a few years later, he met Roy and his family.  And things began to change.

Roy cleared his throat, certain that his voice would betray the emotion he was feeling if he didn’t.  It cracked anyway.  “Wow, Johnny…you never told me any of this.”

Johnny’s mind drifted to the day he and Roy appeared on a television program.  He had been tongue tied by stage fright and had been teased later by his shift mates for telling the host that he had wanted to be a paramedic his whole life, when the paramedic program had only been in existence for a few years.  His explanation had been that what he meant to say was that his whole life he knew he wanted to help people.  “Well, I did…in so many words.  But, now you know the whole story.”

Roy couldn’t help but feel as if he and Johnny were somehow drawn closer through this one simple admission.  Surely there were very few people, if anyone, in existence who knew what made his best friend tick.  Roy figured Johnny probably wasn’t even fully aware himself.  But as bits and pieces of Johnny’s past began to fall into place, Roy found that many of the characteristics and traits that made up John Gage were beginning to form a completed puzzle.

Johnny redirected the conversation back in its intended direction.  “Anyway…I came here because I know that my parents didn’t die in an accident.  And I want to know the truth.”  He looked across the table at Camarin, his eyes cautiously trusting.

Camarin glanced nervously at Roy and stood up.  “I’ll go get us some coffee first, okay?”

Johnny tried not to appear frustrated.  He could understand the reasons why Camarin might be hesitant.  But, he was beginning to feel as though if he didn’t get some hard answers soon, his head might explode.  His body language betrayed his impatience.

Roy picked up on this right away, having been well versed in knowing when his friend was on edge about something.  He had learned over the years that the best way to deal with it was to diffuse it, and that often meant an off topic distraction.  He pointed toward Johnny’s trimmed, yet still visible stubble.  “I…uh…thought you were going to shave.”

Roy’s tactic worked.  Well, sort of.  Johnny’s hand immediately went to his chin, but his eyes were still following Camarin as she walked back toward the table.  “Yeah, well…I thought maybe I’d see how I look in a beard.  Try something new.”  He did not share that he was allowing his facial hair to grow in an attempt to diminish his resemblance to his father.

Any response Roy may have made was cancelled by Camarin’s return to her seat.  She poured coffee for the three of them and sat down.  She took a moment to compose her thoughts, and then proceeded to tell Johnny what she thought they should do.  “John…I do want to share with you what I know, and I intend to do that.  But…”  She reached across the table at Johnny’s disappointed expression and took his hands.  “Wait, John.  It’s just that…well, there are more people involved in this than just me, and I don’t know what to do.  I want to tell you everything.  But, you need to understand.  This could cause trouble for some people…I just want to do the right thing.  Can you understand that?”

Johnny nodded.  He could understand.  He didn’t have to like it, but he understood.

Camarin continued, continuing to hold onto Johnny’s hands, waiting until his eyes rose and made contact.  “So, what I think we should do…is go talk to Shane Ten Bears.  He’s an elder, and people respect him.  They trust his decisions, John.  You can trust him too.”

Johnny sighed and pulled his hands out of Camarin’s grasp.  “But…what if…”

“Trust me.”

Johnny looked at Roy who nodded in encouragement.  Was there something Roy knew that he didn’t?  “Okay…when can we go?”

Camarin stood.  “I’ll go talk to Jake.  He said something about closing up early today.  If he says it’s okay, we can go right now.”

Johnny watched as Camarin spoke to Jake through the kitchen pass through.  He couldn’t make out what was being said, but the conversation appeared to be going well.  Camarin cast a few glances in his direction, and Johnny looked away.  After a few minutes, Camarin returned and informed Johnny and Roy that Jake had given her permission to leave.

Roy took a sip of his coffee.  “I guess I’ll just stay here and wait…”

“No, you’re coming, right?”  Johnny wanted Roy to be with him for this, for reasons he wasn’t sure he could explain.

Roy wiped his mouth with a napkin.  “I…uh…I just figured it wasn’t my business.”

Johnny gave his friend a look that meant “after all we’ve been through, how could you think I wouldn’t want you there?”  But, his eyes diverted to the floor as he reminded himself how tight lipped he had always been about his past and his feelings.  He couldn’t expect Roy to think anything else.  He shrugged, and in typical fashion, turned to humor to mask his true feelings.  “Well, I just figured if you’re there, then if I go and smack my head on something and forget everything again, I’ll have someone back home who can fill in the blanks.”

Roy slid out of the booth.  He knew what Johnny was doing, and played along in order to spare his friend the embarrassment of inadvertently sharing his true feelings.  “You smack your head too many more times, and Rampart is going to name its new neuro unit after you.”

Camarin was smiling now as she allowed Roy to help her on with her sweater.  “Oh, he does that a lot, does he?”

Roy kept talking as the threesome left the diner.  “Well…let’s see…there was the time he fell down the stairs…then there was the time a beam came down and knocked his helmet off…then he got hit by a car…”

zzz

Roy looked around the small room, feeling as if he were standing in some sort of museum.  Various artifacts adorned almost every free inch of wall space.  Some items, Roy recognized, most he did not, but he found himself fascinated by their intricate beauty.  He supposed many, if not all, were hand made by the magnificent looking elderly gentleman who lived here.  As Roy cast nervous glances in his direction, he could not believe Ten Bears was eighty three, as Camarin had said.  And as he picked up tidbits of their conversation, he began to feel like an intruder.  He was startled by a hand on his shoulder.

“That is a ceremonial warrior lance.  It belonged to my grandfather.”

Roy wasn’t sure what adjective to use to describe the obviously valuable object.  “It’s…very impressive.”

Ten Bears removed the lance from the wall and handed it to Roy.  “It was carried in many ceremonies to honor the bravery and success my grandfather showed against our tribe’s enemies.”

Roy looked over the ceremonial weapon, running his fingers along the handle and through the leather fringes hanging from it, being careful to avoid the finely honed piece of bone on the end.  His throat knotted, realizing many of these “enemies” Ten Bears spoke of were probably white.  He handed it back reverently.

Ten Bears returned the lance to its spot on the wall and turned to face Roy.  “Camarin tells me you are a ciye to John…an older brother who protects him from harm.”

Roy could feel the warmth of a blush creeping into his cheeks.  He wasn’t sure if he would consider himself Johnny’s protector, and could only imagine what Johnny’s reaction would be to such a suggestion.  He caught Camarin’s affirming nod and expression, figuring this explanation was what she offered Ten Bears in order to justify his presence here.  “I…uh…well we’ve been friends a long time.”

“And I figure Roy here is about the closest thing to a brother I’ve got.”  Johnny moved to stand beside his friend.

Roy was somewhat taken aback at Johnny’s words.  He pointed to the bruises marking Johnny’s face.  “Well, as you can see, I haven’t done a real good job with the protecting part.”

Ten Bears corrected.  “Ah, but from what Camarin tells me, the protection came later.  You are skilled in medicine, correct?”

“Well, Johnny and I both work in the medical field.”  Roy wasn’t sure Ten Bears would know or even care what a paramedic was, so he decided to be vague.

Ten Bears raised an eyebrow as he regarded the two men and smiled.  “I can see that you are good medicine for each other.”

Roy, Johnny, and Camarin took seats on the floor and watched as Ten Bears lit a ceremonial pipe.  Roy could not help but think about the time that Chet had offered a dime store replica of a peace pipe to him and Johnny one day at the station after they had been arguing.  And he could not forget the look on Johnny’s face at the disrespectful joke.  At the time, Roy thought Johnny was being oversensitive.  After all, he knew Chet hadn’t meant any harm, but as the sweet aroma of tobacco wafted into Roy’s nostrils, he studied the deep lines on Ten Bear’s face, and the ancient pride lighting his eyes.  In that instant, everything changed.  He could feel preconceived notions and carefully crafted stereotypes melt away and become replaced by an awe-filled respect for a culture that deserved it.  His breath caught as he watched Johnny accept the pipe from Ten Bears, breathing slow puffs of smoke into his lungs, using one hand to direct the wisps over his body, his eyes closed as if in prayer.  This was a side of Johnny he had never seen, and he was amazed at how well it suited him.  Roy was surprised to feel emotion tighten his throat.

Roy accepted the pipe from his friend, imagining the chiding he would receive from their station mate when they returned home if he were to learn Roy had been sitting in on some sort of “pow wow.”  But, suddenly none of that mattered, as Roy became caught up in the moment.  Here, in this place and at this time, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.  He lifted the pipe to his mouth, unsure of how to proceed.  Finally he allowed the encouraging smiles of the others to lead him, and he inhaled tentatively at first.  Then, again, as the herbal concoction seemed to calm and relax him.  He handed the pipe back to Ten Bears with a smile that was returned.

Ten Bears placed the pipe into its holder, and regarded the others.  It just seemed right that he would be the first to speak and the others waited.  His eyes rested on Johnny.  “Running Wolf, it is good to see you after all these years.”

Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond.  The natural response would have been “it’s good to be back,” but that wasn’t how he felt.  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you…”

Ten Bears smiled.  “Well I was much younger the last time you saw me.  And so were you.  Camarin tells me you are here seeking answers about your tiwahe, your family.  She told me that if I looked into your eyes, I would see for myself that your heart is true.”

Johnny looked directly into Ten Bears eyes as he spoke, knowing how important this was.  “Ten Bears, I mean no harm in coming here.  I can understand why you might be suspicious, but I’m telling you the truth.  I’m not working for anyone.  I have no ulterior motives.  I just want…I just need to make sense of the dreams and the memories I’ve been having.”

Ten Bears took a deep breath and a drag from his personal pipe.  “It is not considered respectful to speak of the dead.  You must understand that by speaking about what happened long ago, the spirits could be angered.  They could bring bad medicine upon all of us.”

Johnny wasn’t sure how much he believed in the “spirits” Ten Bears was referring to.  Although, he couldn’t ignore the way they seemed to have been speaking to him over the past few years. The first time was through a dream he had when he had been clinically dead after being hit by the pickup.  Then, there were the many revelations he received during his vision quest.  He didn’t want to anger the spirits, if such a thing were possible, so he hoped that maybe they would be understanding.  “I know.  The spirits have spoken to me several times in the past few years.  I even went on a vision quest so I could allow them to give me direction for my life.  But lately they are speaking to me through my dreams, and if my dreams are about my parents, then maybe they’re trying to tell me to seek the truth.  Otherwise, why would I be remembering all of this now?”

Ten Bears nodded.  He was not aware that Johnny had been conversing with the spirits, and he was pleased to learn that he had embarked on a vision quest.  It meant that the traditions of his people were important to him.  “I believe that the spirits are giving you this information now because they have decided that you are ready.  You are about to make a big change in your life perhaps.”

Johnny swallowed hard and tried to focus, ignoring Roy’s somewhat incredulous expression.  “Yes, Ten Bears.  I’m about to get married.”

Ten Bears nodded as if everything were beginning to make sense.  “And these memories of your tiwahe…Did they begin at the same time you met your woman?”

Johnny could feel his heart begin to gallop.  They had, hadn’t they?  He had always assumed it was the assault that brought on the memories, but…could it be?  “Yes, they started soon after I met her.”

“Well then you can be assured that this woman is the right match for you.  I believe she was sent by the spirits to prepare you.”

“Prepare me for what?”  Johnny wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what he needed to be prepared for.

“Looking at you, Running Wolf, I can see that you have grown into a fine man.  I can see honor and bravery in your soul…and loyalty.  For many years, these traits have made you a good friend, perhaps good at your chosen profession.  But the true measure of a man comes when he is asked to be a husband and a father, to provide for his family, and to take good care of them.  Until now, you have not been ready for those things.  The spirits are preparing you by allowing you to learn from the mistakes of your Ate, Red Elk.  You cannot expect to successfully proceed on this new path unless you learn from the truth, and that is why it has become so important for you to know it.”

Johnny watched Ten Bears, speechless.  He could not believe how much this man seemed to know about his life.  So Hannah was sent by the spirits…could it be?  Johnny shook off a chill.

Ten Bears placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.  “So, I will tell you the truth.”

The trio watched as Ten Bears lit a match and held it to the end of a braided strand of dried grass.  Almost instantly the earthy aroma of sage permeated the room.  Ten Bears held the smudge stick in front of him and directed the billowing smoke over his body.  He then held it in front of Johnny and Camarin, allowing them to do the same.  When he got to Roy, he explained, “It is for protection.  Use your hands and allow the smoke to purify you.”

Roy couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, but he did as Ten Bears directed and then watched as the stick was set down.  He had experienced lots of smoke in his career, but never had he experienced any that smelled quite like this.  He decided that he found the sweet odor soothing in some way he couldn’t quite explain.  He listened as Ten Bears offered a prayer in a language he didn’t understand.  He wasn’t a religious man himself and couldn’t help his surprise at how spiritual this man seemed to be.  Weren’t Indians supposed to be heathens?  Isn’t that what he had been taught?  He looked over at Johnny and Camarin and saw that their eyes were closed.  Johnny had never spoken to him about his spiritual beliefs and again Roy was left wondering what other mysteries made up this man who was as close as a brother.

Ten Bears finished and began speaking.  His words told a story.  “Many years ago there was a young man named Red Elk.  The spirits took his mama at the time of his birth and his father used to treat him very badly.  One day Red Elk returned home from school and found his father very sick.  Red Elk came to me and I tried what I could to help him, but his father joined the spirit world the following week.  There was nothing I could do to take away the sickness caused by the wasicu medicine water.”

Johnny listened intently to Ten Bears’ words.  He never knew that his papa had a story similar to his own.  He felt Camarin’s fingers wrap gently around his own and he held tight.

Ten Bears continued.  “Red Elk grew older and was able to find work off the reservation helping to build houses for the wasicu.  That is what he was doing when he met Elizabeth Gage.  She was the daughter of one of the men Red Elk worked beside.  She was very young at the time, barely a woman.  But Red Elk became very attracted to her.  It was not long after this that she came to live with him on the reservation.  They were married in the Lakota tradition and a few months later, Elizabeth bore a son.  He was named John, after Elizabeth’s father.  And because of the laws given to us by the wascicu government, he was also given the name Gage.  Soon after the boy learned to walk, he seemed to prefer running.  His mama had her hands full keeping up with him, and one day she ran after him until he fell into the water.  A black wolf was nearby, and saved him from harm, helping him return safely to his mama’s arms.  On that day he was given the name Sumanitu Taka Iyankape, Running Wolf.”

Roy couldn’t believe his ears.  This was Johnny’s history?  It seemed so incredible.  He studied Johnny’s expression and quickly surmised this was news to his friend as well.

“Red Elk lost his job soon after it was found out he had gone to bed with Elizabeth.  After that it was hard for him to find work.  He seemed to have earned a bad reputation with the wasicu.  Most of the Lakota accepted Elizabeth and John, but there were some who did not.  They used to tease Red Elk and admonish him for lying with a wasicu woman and bearing an anukiya okisye.”  Ten Bears paused when he noticed the confused expressions on Roy and Johnny’s faces.  He was not sure what the English term was, so he did his best to explain.  “A child who is neither Lakota nor wasicu.”

Johnny hung his head, this information cutting into his soul.  He tried to tell himself it had not been his choice to be born, but he found himself suddenly awash in a flood of inexplicable guilt.

Camarin knew it was disrespectful to interrupt Ten Bears’ narrative, but she knew this information and the rest that would follow would be hard for Johnny to hear.  She squeezed his hand a little tighter.  “Sumanitu…”

Ten Bears observed the exchange with empathy.  He knew how much Camarin had cared for Johnny when he was a boy, and apparently still did.  He also did not relish sharing the information he knew about Johnny’s past, not wanting to cause hurt for this man.  But, he had to believe that there was a reason for his learning the truth, that it would somehow set right the wrongs of so many years ago.  “John, I am sorry if what I tell you is painful, but you said you wanted to know the truth, and this is part of the truth.”

Johnny swallowed his guilt and motioned for Ten Bears to continue.  “It’s okay.  I want to know.”

Roy looked over at his friend.  He was not surprised to see the intense expression Johnny wore whenever he was trying to hide his emotions, whether it was despair over losing a patient, anger brought on by a senseless accident or act of violence, or fear.  He knew how important it was for Johnny to hear what Ten Bears was saying, but he was concerned about the aftermath.  Sometimes the truth was better off not being revealed.  As soon as that thought crossed Roy’s mind, he remembered the argument he once had with Johnny about honesty.  He hid a smile at the memory, knowing Johnny would likely embrace truth no matter what the cost.  But as he caught sight of the muscle tensing along side Johnny’s jaw, he reminded himself he’d better be there to help pick up the scattered pieces this revelation might leave behind.

Ten Bears picked up his pipe and took a few puffs before returning it to its holder.  He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to follow.  “Red Elk lost his way and instead of praying to the Great Spirit for guidance, he turned to another form of ‘spirit.’  He began working at The Arrow, doing odd jobs like cleaning up and washing the dishes.  Tom did not pay him very well, but he allowed him to drink as much medicine water as he wanted.  It did not take Red Elk long to realize, like many of our brothers and sisters, that this drink had the power to help one forget.  At least for a while.  But soon Red Elk began to change.  He became impatient and angry.  And he took out his frustrations on Elizabeth and John.”  Ten Bears paused to allow all in the room time to absorb the meaning behind his words.  “This continued for some time until one day, in his drunken rage, Red Elk accidentally killed Elizabeth.”

Johnny’s hand moved to his forehead as Ten Bears affirmed his memory.  He supposed part of him was still wishing it wasn’t true, that his mind had conjured up an image that was a mere shadow of the truth.  But hearing it stated by this man who Johnny knew had been here when it happened caused his blood to chill cold as ice.  His throat began to ache fiercely, and he wanted to cry, needed to, but his papa’s words still rung in his ears.  Don’t cry…crying makes you weak…

Roy had already sensed that it would be considered taboo to interrupt Ten Bears when he was speaking, but he didn’t care.  He could tell that Johnny was upset, and he wanted to put a stop to this conversation right now.  That is…if it was what Johnny wanted.  “Johnny, are you all right?”

Ten Bears waited for the men to speak to one another, knowing that Roy was only making an effort to protect his friend as Camarin had explained.

Johnny silently cursed Roy for asking him a question.  Didn’t he know that if he opened his mouth right now his emotions would betray him?  He nodded his head.

Roy wasn’t convinced.  “Are you sure?  We don’t have to do this right now…”

Apparently Roy wasn’t going to be satisfied until Johnny spoke to him.  He had to risk it.  “Roy, I need to know.”

Roy backed off now, seeing the familiar glimmer of an unshed tear in Johnny’s eye, one that he  would will not to fall only to be quickly wiped away as soon as he thought Roy wasn’t looking.  He had seen this before, when Johnny was upset about something, and he knew not to push him.  He directed his attention back to Ten Bears, cueing him to go on.

“John ran after Red Elk and followed him to the weeping birch tree behind the school.  It is not known what happened between them before Camarin arrived.”  Ten Bears stopped and looked at Camarin.  “Would you like to tell what happened next?”

Camarin wasn’t sure she wanted to do this, but eventually decided that maybe the news would be better coming from her.  She nodded and turned directly toward Johnny, speaking to him as if they were the only two in the room.  “That day…I heard you screaming for help.  I saw you run after your papa and I wanted to follow you right away, but I heard something that made me stop.  It was the sound of crying, and it was coming from your house.  I looked inside and found that the crying was coming from Chaske Silver Feather.  He was kneeling beside your mama.  He looked up at me, his eyes full of grief.  But then quickly the grief turned to rage.  He ran off, shouting for your papa, and I followed him.”

Johnny shook his head.  “I…I don’t…what does Chaske have to do with…”

Camarin placed a hand to Johnny’s lips.  “Shhh, Sumanitu.  Soon you will know everything.”  She grasped Johnny’s hands in her own.  “Chaske found you and your papa by the weeping birch a few minutes before I was able to catch up.  He snuck up behind your papa, but you saw him.  You called out Chaske’s name and your papa turned around.  Chaske shoved your papa hard and he fell into you.  You hit your head hard on the tree.  After your papa realized what he had done, he seemed afraid, and he started trying to wake you up.  By this time Chaske had picked up the baseball bat you had been carrying and…and…”  Camarin looked to Ten Bears as if asking for permission to continue.  He nodded.  Camarin closed her eyes then, remembering the vicious attack.  Chaske had been brutal and thorough, his love for Elizabeth temporarily clouding his judgment.  “Chaske…killed your papa.”

In an instant Johnny was on his feet.  “He…Chaske? Where is he…”  Johnny bolted for the door, but was stopped by Camarin and Roy.

Roy was pretty sure Johnny would not do anything foolish, but the fact that the man responsible for his father’s death was at large and living just down the road was difficult even for him to swallow.  “Where are you going, Johnny?”

Johnny’s tone was incredulous as he made an effort to move past his friends’ barricade.  “Where am I…I’m going to Chaske’s!  Where do you think?”

Camarin tried to reach out to Johnny.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now…”

Johnny stepped back and stared at Camarin, his eyes painted with betrayal.  “When were you going to get around to telling me this, Camarin?  You were there!  You…you lied to me!”

Roy’s pulse quickened.  He didn’t think he had ever seen Johnny look this hurt or this angry.  It frightened him.  “Johnny…”

Johnny’s hands flew up to the sides of his head in a gesture meant to convey he didn’t want to hear what Roy was about to say.  “You just stay out of this!”

Camarin was crying now.  “I did lie to you, John.  And believe me, I’m sorry.  I was so young…and they told me…if I had it to do over again I wouldn’t have.  I swear I wouldn’t.”

Johnny’s tone softened along with the volume of his voice. He paced erratically through the small room.  “Why…just tell me why!”

Ten Bears rose from his place on the floor and approached the pacing man calmly.  “You came here seeking the truth.  Sometimes the truth is not what we expect.  And sometimes the reasons are not also.”  He indicated the spot on the floor Johnny had vacated.  “Please, sit.  And I will tell you the answers you seek.”

Johnny continued his animated movements in an effort to release the emotions that were brimming just underneath the surface.  The rest allowed him this freedom to move about the room until finally, he took a deep breath and returned to his place on the floor.  He said nothing, resting his arms on top of bent knees and hanging his head between them in a defeated posture.

Ten Bears did not seem fazed by this and his gentle smile helped to ease the others’ concern.  He motioned for them to sit and he returned to his spot among them, allowing time for old bones to settle into a position of comfort.  He offered another round of the pipe and when all were finished, he began speaking again.  “Chaske Silver Feather was the same age as your mama when she first came to live with our people.  He had never known a wasicu before, and he was immediately taken in by Elizabeth’s beauty.  Chaske could not understand why she would want to be with someone so many years older, as was Red Elk.  He would often speak to Elizabeth when Red Elk was not at home, and gradually he began to love her.  He did not speak of this to anyone, but Camarin knew.” 

Camarin nodded and turned to Johnny.  “It was plain as day.  All anyone had to do was look close enough to see it.  But, I knew what trouble it would cause for Chaske if I said anything, so I kept it to myself.  There were times when I think he suspected I knew, but we never talked about it.”

Ten Bears nodded affirmingly.  “It did not take long for Chaske to begin hating Red Elk for the way he treated Elizabeth.  He used to try to think of ways to take her away from him, but he was afraid…afraid of Red Elk, of taking on the responsibility of a son, and afraid of what people would think.”

Johnny tensed his jaw.  Ten Bears didn’t need to say that Chaske wasn’t sure if he wanted to take on the shame associated with raising a son of mixed blood.  He could feel it in his soul.  The pangs of guilt burned fiercely.  If he hadn’t been born, would Chaske have had the courage to save his mama?  And what of his papa?  Might he still be alive too?  Would he have had a chance to change his ways?  Would any of this have happened at all?

“The night before Elizabeth was killed, Chaske had made up his mind.  He went over to the house and spoke to her about his plan to take her and John and leave the reservation.  She was reluctant at first.  In spite of the way Red Elk treated her, she still loved him.  But in the end, she feared for your life, John.  She agreed to leave with Chaske the following night…to protect you.”

Johnny closed his eyes, knowing Roy would be watching him.  The tears were right there, begging for release, but he swallowed them down, his jaw aching.  Roy reached over and placed a hand on his back, and he wanted to move away from it, but he found himself calming at the warmth of the familiar touch, revived by its strength.  He listened as Ten Bears explained what he already knew.

“The following day, Chaske was in his yard when he saw Red Elk running from your house, with you close behind him, holding the baseball bat.  He heard you ask for his help, but he stood frozen with fear.  Finally, he was able to make his way into your house, where he found Elizabeth.  He was consumed by grief that he would not be able to carry out the plans he had made and be with Elizabeth forever.  And he was filled with hatred for Red Elk.  You know the rest of the story.  But I think it is important to know that Chaske loved your mama very much.  And that is what caused him to do what he did.”

Roy spoke now, knowing it was what Johnny would be thinking.  “That still doesn’t make it right.”

Johnny raised his hand to stop the flow of Roy’s words.  He found that he could no longer be angry at Chaske as he considered how angry he still felt toward Kent Johnson, a man he didn’t even know, for what he had done to Hannah.  “Roy…think about…how you would feel if someone were to hurt Jo…”

“Johnny, that still doesn’t give a man the right to murder.  What I want to know is…why the lies?  Was it to cover up what Chaske did, so he wouldn’t go to jail?”  Roy knew how he would feel if someone laid a finger on Joanne, but he also believed that justice should have been served.  After all, this man had taken Johnny’s father away from him.  Yes, Johnny was probably better off without him, but that wasn’t the point.  No one has the right to make those kinds of decisions.

Ten Bears raised his hands in a placating gesture.  Again he did not seem to be surprised by Roy’s need to protect his friend.  “At the time, the only people who knew the truth were Chaske, Camarin and her mama, and you, John.  Chaske pleaded with Camarin and you not to tell what you had seen, but you began to lose consciousness and became Camarin’s bigger concern.”  He paused to allow Camarin to take over.

“I carried you home to mama.  We were going to take care of you and let you live with us.  But, when you wouldn’t wake up, we knew we needed to get you to the hospital in Rapid City, but we didn’t have a car to take you there.  Mama knew you had a grandfather who lived on a ranch off the reservation.  She had learned this from your mama.  So, she sent someone to find him.”

Johnny was confused now.  “So…it was tunkaschila who lied to me?  But…you said…”

Camarin shook her head.  “I explained to mama what happened, and we weren’t sure what to do about Chaske.  She walked over to his house and told him that she knew what he had done.  Chaske told mama that he had hidden the bodies, and begged her not to tell anyone.  He was afraid of going to a wasicu prison.  Mama tried to tell him that maybe they would understand, that they would consider how much he had loved Elizabeth, but in the end she knew what Chaske already did.  The wasicu courts would not have needed much reason to convict him.  She decided to talk to Ten Bears.”

Ten Bears took that as his cue.  “Camarin’s mama came to me and asked for my advice.  I was not in favor of allowing this deed to go unpunished, and I would have preferred to take care of it in the Lakota way.  I knew that Chaske’s heart was good, even though he had made a terrible mistake.  I also was aware that the wasicu government kept a close eye on the reservation.  A story such as this would have been all they needed to come here and start interfering again, much as they have been lately.  It was then that I decided I needed some time to reflect and pray to the spirits for guidance.  A few days later, Camarin’s mama returned to tell me that you had awoken in the hospital and that you had no memories of what had happened to your parents.  Your tunkaschila was with her, and together we prayed.  We felt that the spirits were leading us to do what would be for the greatest good.  We did not feel that you should grow up knowing the horrible truth about how your parents passed.  We did not feel that Chaske should have to be tortured by the wasicu for avenging the death of the woman he loved, and finally, we did not want to invite any more turmoil for the innocent people on the reservation.  So, Chaske and Red Horse placed your parents’ bodies into Red Elk’s car and pushed it into the ravine.  You were told that you had been in an accident together and that you were the only one who had survived.  The five of us made a pact that we would keep the secret until we moved on to the spirit world.  You had gone to live with your tunkaschila, and you were happy there.  It seemed as though we made the right decision.  But I believe now, that Red Elk wants you to know the truth.”

There was a long pause as everyone reflected on Ten Bears narrative.  “Thank you.”  Johnny’s words were almost a whisper.  He stood and looked at the others.  He could see that they appeared to be waiting for his response.  His mind whirled as Ten Bears’ words wrapped themselves around his heart and clung tight, effectively squeezing out every ounce of control he possessed.  Unsure of anything anymore, Johnny tore out the front door before he could be stopped and started running.

Roy started after him.  “Johnny, wait!”  But, he was held back by Ten Bears’ gentle hands.

“Let him go.  He needs some time to think…and pray.  Soon, it will be time for you to go to him.  He will need your strength.  He will need you to help him understand.”

Roy was fighting his own emotion.  “I don’t think I even understand.”

Ten Bears’ eyes crinkled into the now familiar smile.  “Yes you do, ciksi.  You just have to look inside your heart.  Your mind will tell you the rest.  Then you will know how to help your brother.”

Roy leaned against the side of the house and watched Johnny…running…until he disappeared from sight.  Well, now you know the truth, Junior.  Now, what are we going to do with it? 

zzz

Johnny ran like he had never run before.  He could feel his injured ribs jarring with every rapid footfall as he sped thru quiet streets and barren yards, but yet he couldn’t stop.  It would have been difficult for anyone who happened to see him to discern whether he was running away in fright or frantically racing to get somewhere.  Perhaps both descriptions were correct.  And so he ran, lungs bursting…muscles crying out for mercy until he couldn’t run anymore.  Perspiring heavily despite the chilly weather, and gasping for breath, he reached out an arm to steady himself.  Eyes closed, he tried to slow his breathing, tried to still the spinning and nausea, while he waited for the stitch in his side and the throbbing in his head to abate. 

Several minutes passed before Johnny was able to bring his other somewhat shaky arm to his brow and wipe the perspiration from his forehead.  Realizing now that he was soaking wet…and shivering…his rational mind began thinking he should head for home.  But instead he stood as if bolted to the ground, the tree on which he was leaning the only thing holding him upright.  Johnny was exhausted.  Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted.  Now that he knew the truth he had sought, he couldn’t figure out if he was relieved or disappointed.  And his head swam in its attempt to sort it all out.  It was overwhelming.  Home?  Never had a home.  He found himself sliding to the soft ground, and he laid there on his side, his cheek pressed up against the scratchy bark of the tree, eyes closed, until finally his breathing slowed…and he was asleep.

You do have a home.

Johnny blinked open his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position.  He couldn’t believe what he saw.  He was in the field behind the school, and the tree he was leaning against was the very tree where he had seen his father alive for the last time.  He wondered how long he had been asleep as darkness was beginning to fall and fog crept stealthily over the scrub and cacti bordering the field.  Johnny watched as the fog began to twist and roil until it appeared to be taking on a tangible shape in front of him.  He was reminded of a similar experience the evening before he embarked on his vision quest the previous year. 

You do have a home.

Johnny heard the familiar voice and was immediately afraid.  “Who’s there?”  He squinted through the hazy mist, looking for its owner.

You have a home in Los Angeles with Hannah.  You need to leave here and go back to her.  She’s going to need you, John.

Johnny’s voice cracked as he breathed the impossible question.  “Papa?”

Yes, John.  Although I regret that I was not man enough to be a papa.

Johnny shook his head and pressed his back against the tree.  This couldn’t be happening. 

You are afraid, cinski.  And I cannot blame you.  I wish there was a way to go back and change what happened in the past, but that is impossible.  The only thing I can do now is tell you how proud I am that you are my son and how certain I am that you will become the husband and father I wish I could have been.

Johnny could feel his anger beginning to surface.  He cringed at the memories of the verbal assaults he had endured as his father seemed to continually come up with new and more colorful ways to tell him how worthless he was and how ashamed he had been of him.  “Proud?  You’re proud?”

I know that must be hard for you to believe, cinski.  I used to tell you that you were weak, and that you would not amount to anything.  I did terrible things to you…things I regret.  I hurt a lot of people in my life, John.  There’s much that you don’t even know.  I am the one who was weak.

Johnny wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept atonement from this man.   “What about mama?  The things you did to her…you…you killed her.”  Johnny’s words seethed with contempt.

The spirits have allowed me to suffer with guilt over what I did for many years.  I will carry that burden for the rest of eternity.  But despite what you may think of me, I did not want to kill Elizabeth.  I loved her…and I love you.

Johnny wanted to get up and start running again, but he couldn’t move.  It was as if he was being held in place by some ethereal force.  As much as his heart wanted to hear his father’s words, his rational side wouldn’t allow it.  He had spent too much time hating this man to accept this now.  “No…no you don’t…”

I do love you, cinski.  I always have.  I had big dreams for you…dreams that you would overcome the prejudice of both the Lakota and the wasicu…dreams that you would grow to be strong and unafraid…dreams that you would come to do great deeds.  There were times that I tried to teach you how to have these things, but I was not wise about the qualities that are most important.  It is my hope that you will see the mistakes that I made…and learn from them.

“Learn from…learn from them?  Papa, I would never…could never do to anyone what you did to mama and me.  You think I have something to learn from you?”

It is where you came from that makes you who you are.  When I was a young man, I never thought I was capable of the sins which came later.  My father was an evil man.  The spirits have shown me it is because of this that I became what I was.

“That’s just an excuse!  We all make choices in our lives, good or bad.  We can’t blame our parents for every mistake that we make!  I’ve spent the last thirteen years of my life helping people, papa!  Helping them!  Not hurting them.  That’s my choice.”

You have always been good at helping people.  That is one of the things I asked the spirits to show you after your accident a few years ago.

Johnny shook off a chill.  “My what?  What’s that got to do with anything?”

You crossed over into the spirit world a short time after you were injured by the man in the truck.  I did not want you to come here.  It was not time.  I was so proud of your gifts… gifts that you did not even realize you possessed.  You have so many who love you, and yet you did not see it.  I think you are only just beginning to see it now.  I wanted you to be able to have the things I could not have…to succeed where I had failed.  In this way I hoped I could do right by you.  I failed you, John.  You and your mama…and I am sorry.

Johnny thought back to the dream he had after his hit and run accident.  He had been clinically dead, and Roy had been surprised that he was able to recall it so vividly.  Johnny had always suspected it was more than just a dream.  “I…I remember a dream…”

It was not a dream, John.  I asked the sprits to speak to you through your friends.  I asked them to show you that your purpose had yet to be fulfilled.  You still have much to do.

“And…it was after that…that I felt like I should go out on the vision quest…”

And what did the spirits reveal to you on your quest?

Johnny thought about the many messages he had received on that five day trip into the wilderness without food or water.  He had received direction for his life…direction that included making preparations for a family…for Hannah.  “So…Hannah…she…”

She did not come into your life by chance, John.  It is my hope that soon you will see that everything after that moment…has happened for a reason.  Your accident made it possible for this process to begin.  It also proved to you that you possess great strength and determination.  Everything…your friendship with Justin…that led to your meeting Hannah.  And your assault last year.  Because Hannah had been through a similar experience, it allowed you to open up to a woman who you never would have felt comfortable around before, and look at what has happened.  You are to be married.

“No…no this can’t be…”

I tell you the truth.  It is up to you whether you want to believe it. 

Johnny took a deep breath as he tried to wrap his mind around what his papa was telling him.  He could not deny that it all seemed to fit together.  It was as if some uncontrollable series of events was set in motion the night he had “died.”  He had met Justin prior to that night, but only as his physical therapist.  Would they have become friends if the spirits, at the request of his papa, had not interceded?  If he hadn’t been convinced in that “dream” that his purpose in life was to continue as a firefighter/paramedic, would he have been able to garner the strength and the drive he needed to get through the grueling months ahead and regain full function in his hip?  If he hadn’t been friends with Justin…would he have met his sister, Hannah?  As the events of the past few years began to come together in a sort of surreal cosmic jigsaw puzzle, there was just one question left unanswered.  “But…why the memories, papa?  Why after all these years did I finally remember what you did to mama…and to me?”

That is probably the simplest answer of all, cinski.  I believe Ten Bears hinted at the reason, and I believe you know it in your heart.

Johnny thought about what Ten Bears had told him.  That he believed his papa wanted him to know the truth so he would not repeat the mistakes he made.  “Because…it brought me here?  So you could talk to me like you are now?”

That is part of it. 

“And yeah…I know.  You wanted me to know the truth so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes you did, but papa…”

I know you do not think you are capable of the things I did, John.  But I believe that we all have the capability to repeat the mistakes of our fathers.  You saw how easy it was to ease your pain with whiskey last night…

Johnny could see where this was headed, and he would have none of it.  “Don’t!  Don’t even go there!  That was one time!  That was different…”

Was it?  You forget it started with one time for me too, John.  When I began to lose hope, I allowed my spirit to become weak…just as you did.

“No…”

All I am saying is that one bad choice can turn into two…and then there comes a point where you do not know who you are anymore.  I wanted you to know everything about your past…to know who you are, so that you can become a man who will be a good provider for his family, a loving husband, and caring father…the man I never was.

“So you want all these things for me because you think somehow it makes right what you did?  What is it…some sort of penance?  You’ll get to be free after this?”

I understand your doubts, cinski.  But you are wrong.  I want these things for you because I am proud of the man you are… and of the man you will become.

Johnny could feel emotion building behind his eyes, and again he could hear his papa’s words from long ago.  Don’t cry…crying makes you look weak…Could it be it was simply his misguided way of trying to foster strength in his son?  Were his intentions correct…even if his tactics left a lot to be desired?

For a long time, you have not allowed yourself to become truly close to anyone.  You have found it hard to open yourself up, because I taught you that it is the people closest to you…the people who are supposed to love you the most…who hurt you.  Because of this, it is hard for you to trust.  I am sorry for being the cause of this, and I do not want you to continue in this way.  You’ve made a good start with Hannah.  But, there are others who love you too, John.  Others you can trust…

Johnny thought about Roy and Justin.  He trusted each of them with his life, but admittedly he still found it difficult to completely be himself around them.  With Hannah it was different, but there were things he still felt he couldn’t talk about…not even with her.

It is almost time for me to leave you.  But I wish to leave you with the knowledge that there are those who you can talk to…family who will help you to work through the truth that was made known to you today.  Hannah…Roy…Justin…Camarin…

“Camarin?”

Yes, cinski.  Camarin has more to share with you.

Johnny was left wondering what else Camarin could possibly have to add to this story.

I must go now.  You have learned what you came to learn.  It is time for you to return to Hannah…do it soon, cinski.  Do not wait.  She will need you…

As the voice began to drift away, Johnny suddenly became desperate to hold onto it.  “Wait!  Is something going to happen to Hannah?”

You will be tested…you will have one more trial to overcome together…

“Papa!  Wait!  Don’t go!”

Go home, cinski…go, but always remember where you came from…I love you…

Suddenly Johnny felt exhaustion returning, and he slumped to the damp ground.  “Love…you…papa…

zzz

Roy moved toward the large weeping birch on the east end of the large clearing.  He shivered against the raw chill that threatened to leech every ounce of warmth from his bones.  The sleet was coming down harder now, and its icy talons stung Roy’s cheeks as he walked.  He didn’t notice him at first, the twirling fog that crouched close to the earth partially obscuring him from view.  But as he trekked closer, Roy could make out the outline of his best friend, lying on the ground near the base of the tree.  He stopped short, his hand nervously fingering the borrowed handgun in his coat pocket, as he prepared himself for what he might find.  Finally forcing his legs to move, he knelt down on the ground.  Johnny was on his back, his left arm draped across his eyes.  Roy breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the easy rise and fall of his friend’s chest, and the strong, present pulse.  Sleeping…his hand moved to Johnny’s somewhat flushed forehead.  But you feel a little warm.  Suddenly concerned that his actions hadn’t caused Johnny to stir, Roy tried rousing him.  “Johnny?  Johnny are you okay?”

Johnny’s legs began to shift slowly at the sound of a voice.  His response was an exhausted mumble.  “Mmm…papa?”

Roy’s heart tensed.  “No, Johnny.  It’s Roy.  Come on, it’s cold out here, and you’re getting all wet.  Open your eyes.”

Johnny removed his left arm and sat up stiffly.  “What…where are we?”

Roy placed a hand on Johnny’s back.  “Whoa…not so fast.  Are you all right?”

Johnny rubbed at his eyes.  “Yeah…I think so…I just…fell asleep.”  He looked around, squinting in the near darkness, and then raised a hand to his forehead.  “Oh, man…”  Memories of his dream were coming back to him.  No…not just a dream…something else…

Roy leaned in closer.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

Johnny wanted to tell Roy about the experience he had just had with his father, he wanted someone else to know, but reason stopped him.  How could he explain to his best friend that the spirit of his father had just appeared to him?  Roy had seemed receptive about the other messages Johnny had received through dreams, but this was somehow different, only Johnny couldn’t quite place a finger on why.  He bent his knees and leaned his arms on them, looking up at his friend’s concerned expression.  “Nothing and everything.”

Roy instinctively read his partner’s words.  He knew without explanation what Johnny meant, that physically he was all right, but that suddenly he felt his world turned inside out, and that he was struggling to make sense of it all.  “Yeah.  I know.”

Johnny took a deep breath and looked around the clearing, his eyes finally coming to rest on the giant tree.  His voice was so uncharacteristically quiet, Roy had to strain to hear him though the soft swifting of the sleet against the ground.  “This is where it happened, you know.  This is where I saw my papa for the last time.”

Roy could sense the emotion behind Johnny’s words, the raw feelings he was trying so desperately to hide.  He had seen his friend like this on many occasions.  Thinking back, he realized he had seen Johnny cry only a few times, and all of them had been when he was in severe pain, or medicated, or just too out of it to realize or care.  Although he had seen him upset numerous times over rescues gone wrong or relationships gone bad, Roy realized he had never seen Johnny openly display his emotion.  Not even when his friend Drew had been killed. 

Roy had always acknowledged the fact that most men did not feel comfortable revealing their emotions to each other, and he was no exception to that rule.  But the truth was…Chet, Cap, Mike, Marco, Roy…they had all dealt with the rough ones together, and Roy remembered back to those times now.  There were times in their profession, when even the strongest couldn’t hold back their anger, their frustration…even their sorrow.  But on all those occasions, it had been Johnny who refused to sit among them, who would deal with things in his own way, which often included kicking and throwing the large trash bins out in the parking lot.  There had been times, when Johnny thought he was alone, when he didn’t realize anyone was watching him…and Roy had wanted to reach out to him those times, but something stopped him, choosing to give Johnny his space.  He was beginning to regret that now.  He sighed heavily.  “Yeah…”

Johnny moved a hand to the bridge of his nose as he often did to staunch the building pressure behind his eyes. “I just…it didn’t have to happen, you know?”

There was so much Roy wanted to say, but he knew Johnny needed to talk to someone about what he had learned today, so he kept his responses brief.  “I know.”

“You know what the worst part is?  I don’t even know who to blame.  It would be easy to blame the whiskey, you know?  But the truth is, no one held it to his mouth…hell, no one held it to mine last night…”

“Johnny…”

“I guess I could blame my papa for getting my mama pregnant...my mama for agreeing to it…I could blame the whites…or I could blame the Lakota.  I could blame my papa’s boss for firing him…and then there’s Chaske.”  Johnny’s eyes shot open and he ran his hand over the top of his head.  “God damnit!  I want to hate him Roy!  And I can’t!  Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“You can’t hate Chaske…or you can’t hate your father?”

Johnny was on his feet now, and Roy was afraid he would run off again.  “I can’t hate either one of them!  It’s so fucking unfair…”  Johnny pulled his arm back intending to punch the trunk of the birch tree, but thought better of it at the last moment and swung his arm down in disgust.  He paced furiously.

Roy stood and leaned against the tree.  “And you think that would make it better somehow?”

“It’s just like it was with Keith Jamison, Roy!  Remember?  I wanted to hate him…wanted to make him pay for what he had done…”

Roy remembered back to the man who had accidentally hit Johnny with his pickup truck.  He had been drinking in an attempt to deal with the loss of his wife in a car accident, an accident to which they had responded.  Johnny had been the one who tried to save her.  He had spent months undergoing a painful recuperation, all the while wondering if he would ever return to the career he loved, only to find out Keith was so full of remorse over what he had done, and so full of sorrow over the loss of his wife, that he committed suicide.  “I remember.  Listen, Johnny.  I think…I think maybe you just need some time to…”

“Time?  I’ve had nothing but time!  All those years…my whole life has been one big lie, Roy!”

“A lie meant to protect you…”

“Bullshit!  It was to protect Chaske…to protect the reservation…I had nothing to do with it.”

Roy could see what Johnny didn’t want to.  The people who cared for him the most back then had gone along with this plan because they saw no reason to allow a small boy to have to go through life knowing his parents had been brutally murdered.  “Well whether it was wrong or right, Johnny…now you know.  You came here for answers…”

“I know, I know.  Careful what you wish for, right?”

“Something like that.”

There were several moments where neither man spoke, and Roy was just about to tell Johnny he thought it would be a good idea to go back to Camarin’s.  He was concerned about the fact that Johnny appeared feverish, and that he had been out here in the elements for quite some time without a jacket.  But, Johnny’s words stopped him cold.

“He didn’t mean to do it, Roy.”

Roy moved away from the tree and closer to his friend.  “What?”

“My papa.  He had a hard life…he made mistakes…”

It did not surprise Roy that Johnny was defending his father now in some attempt to find closure through forgiveness.  He remained quiet, sensing his friend’s need to talk this through.

Johnny’s mind jagged with what seemed like a hundred separate thoughts, as he struggled to find the answers to the ultimate questions on his heart.  Why had this happened at all?  Why had his father succumbed to alcoholism and abuse?  Why had his parents been cruelly taken from him at such an early age?  But then…if they hadn’t…would he have the life he knew now?  Would he have moved to California and joined the fire department?  Would he have met Roy…or Justin…or Hannah?  The more Johnny struggled, the more he came to realize that while tragic, there was no single factor to blame.  What happened had been a terrible tragedy, but the various circumstances that led to it were perhaps beyond anyone’s control.  He tried to berate himself…surely there must have been some way he could have prevented it…but in the end, Johnny realized there wasn’t much, if anything, that a young boy could have done.  After all, he did try to redirect his papa’s wrath.  What if he had been the one to die instead?  Would that have been better…or worse?  “He…he loved us, Roy.  I know he did…”

There it was.  That catch in Johnny’s throat…the one that only those closest to him would ever recognize…the one that always preceded his quick retreat.  Roy was determined not to allow that to happen this time.  “I’m sure he did…”  It was then that Roy saw it.  The sudden movement.  Johnny was about to take off.  He reached out and grabbed his arm.  “Johnny, wait!”

Johnny did his best to pull himself out of Roy’s grasp, his voice revealing his frustration.  “Damn it, Roy!  Let go of me!”

Roy increased his grasp.  “No!  No, Johnny.  Stay here.”  Roy worked to keep his voice even and calm.  “It’s just me…it’s okay…”

Johnny could feel his throat constricting as the pressure behind his nose grew more intense.  His voice was intended to be threatening, but Roy knew better.  “Let…me…go!  Leave me alone!”

“No.”

Johnny wriggled out of Roy’s grasp.  No longer restrained, he wanted to run, but something stopped him.  “What?”

Roy took a step back, fearing that any sign of aggression would cause Johnny to dart away again.  “I said no.  I’m not going to leave you alone.  It’s all right to be upset, Johnny.  You don’t have to run away from me.”

Johnny knew he needed to get out of here soon.  He was going to lose control, and he would not allow Roy to see that.  “Not running from you…”

“Well what then?  Why are you so afraid?”

Johnny wanted to be angry.  He wanted to take Roy’s question as a challenge, but there had been nothing in his inflection but genuine concern.  “Damn it!  I’m not afraid…”

Roy could see that Johnny was close to tears.  He felt guilty in a way, but overriding the guilt was a brotherly concern he had felt for quite some time.  He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he sensed that this was an important step toward closure and healing for his friend.  “Well, what is it then?  Why did you try to leave just now?”

Johnny turned abruptly in frustration, but he did not run away.  His back was to Roy now, which made him feel a little better, as he could feel the bitter sting of a warm tear against his cold cheek.  He was grateful for the darkness and the moisture granted by the falling precipitation.  He stared at the tree, at the very spot where his father had last spoken to him.  “You wanna know the last thing my papa ever said to me?”

Roy swallowed hard and stood frozen in place.  “Sure.”

Johnny remained motionless too, his back still to his friend.  “He said…he told me not to cry.  He said crying makes you look weak.”

Roy closed his eyes as his own tears threatened to fall.  Everything made sense now.  All of it.  His voice cracked as he moved closer.  “Johnny…”

“He used to beat me for it, Roy.  If I cried…it only made things worse for me…”

My God…The hand that Roy had been reaching out, that he intended to rest on Johnny’s back, stopped in mid air.  No wonder.  Roy tried to imagine the effects on a young child who had been repeatedly beaten…for crying.  He tentatively moved forward again, and his hand found its mark.  Johnny was shaking, and Roy couldn’t tell if it was from the cold…or from…

Johnny could feel Roy’s hand on his back, and he wanted to pull away from it, but something kept him still.  The tears were coming more easily now, and he hoped Roy didn’t notice.  “But right before he…died…I don’t know, Roy.  It was…different.  For the first time he sounded like…like my…”  Johnny’s hand moved to his eyes, and he wiped at the tears as if they would burn his skin.  “Shit.”

Roy could imagine what Johnny was describing, and he could feel his own throat begin to tighten.  “Like your papa?”  There was no response, only the quiet hitching of Johnny’s shoulders.  Roy stood for a moment, his hand on his friend’s back, unsure of what to do.  Finally he moved around to face him, and when Johnny tried to turn away, his hands were suddenly on Johnny’s arms, preventing it.

Johnny could feel thirty years of pain bursting to be acknowledged.  At the moment he didn’t know whether to be angry at Roy for being here…or glad.  One thing he was sure of, though, was that there was no longer any holding back.  His throat burned, and his head throbbed…until finally, before he knew what was happening, he felt control crack and falter.  It scared him, as he could not ever remember this happening to him before.  But, once the wall came crashing down, he was helpless to stop it, and he felt a simultaneous surge of shame…and relief.  He expected Roy to let go now, to back away, embarrassed at his foolish display.  But instead, he felt himself being drawn in, he felt strong arms wrapping around his body and was taken aback at their grounding effect.  Next, he could feel his own arms holding on tightly to Roy in response, as one of Roy’s hands moved to the back of his head, gently ruffling his hair.  He allowed his face to fall onto the shoulder in front of him, and he soaked it with his tears.  And then he heard the voice that had so effectively calmed the hearts of hundreds of total strangers…and he found himself giving into it now…allowing it to calm his own heart…and all the doubt and sorrow that it harbored.

Johnny had no idea how long they had stood there before he finally pulled away.  “Sorry, man…that was…I have no idea what that was…”

Roy offered a gentle smile.  “I’d say it was about time.”  When Johnny looked away, he quickly added, “It’s okay.”

Johnny pulled out his bandana and wiped his face.  “I feel like a fool.”

“Well there’s no need to.  Crying is a biological response to emotion.  It’s not something you should try to control…”

Johnny appreciated Roy’s attempt at diffusing the situation.  “Now you’re starting to sound like Brice.  And look who’s talking!  You don’t exactly wear your heart on your sleeve, ya know.”

Roy deftly avoided Johnny’s retort with a small, barely noticeable wink.  “Besides…you needed it.”

Johnny stared at the ground.  “Maybe…”

“Feel better?”

Johnny took a deep breath.  He couldn’t deny it.  He did feel better.  He felt as if he had been trapped under a collapsed wall for days and that the pressure had finally been relieved.  “You know, Pally?  I think I do.”

Roy looked around.  “Hmmm…I don’t see any large cracks in the earth’s surface…ready to swallow us up.”

Johnny could feel the blush of embarrassment warming his cheeks.  “Thanks, man.”

Roy planted a firm hand on Johnny’s shoulder.  “Anytime.”  His smile turned to a frown of concern as Johnny nearly stumbled.  “You okay?”

Johnny grabbed onto Roy’s arm to steady himself.  “Yeah…just really tired.”

“I can imagine.  And being soaking wet isn’t helping.  Let’s get back to Camarin’s before we both end up with hypothermia.”

Johnny allowed Roy to support him as they walked in the direction of Camarin’s house.  He was shivering now, and it was causing his ribs to ache.  He allowed his thoughts to meander until they settled on home…he had learned the truth, and his papa had told him to go home…home to his own bed…home to his job…home to Hannah.  “Hannah!  Oh my God, Roy.  I almost forgot!”

“What, Johnny?”

“I need to call Hannah!”

Roy sighed.  “Johnny, you’re soaked.”  He moved a hand to Johnny’s forehead.  “And you feel feverish.  I’ll call Hannah later…”

“No!  No, Roy!”  Johnny remembered his father’s words…that he needed to go home, that Hannah would need him.  “I…she might not be…I just have a bad feeling, Roy.  I need to make sure she’s okay.”

Roy wanted to dismiss Johnny’s concerns as exhaustion induced paranoia.  But he couldn’t deny that he sometimes became overcome with an inexplicable need to check on Joanne.  “Okay, Johnny.  We’ll get the car and drive to the diner first.  Besides, you should really eat something anyway.”

Johnny didn’t feel hungry, but he knew better than to argue when Roy was giving him his way.  “Yeah…yeah, okay.  And, Roy?  I really do want to go home.  Let’s get going tomorrow, okay?”

Roy stopped momentarily, unsure why the sudden urgency.  “Sure, Johnny.  If that’s what you want.”  He silently hoped Camarin would talk to Johnny before they left. 

“Yeah…it’s what I want.  I got what I came for…no reason to stay here now.”

Only one that I can think of.  “Okay…let’s go.”

zzz

Hannah pulled the colorful throw tighter around her shoulders.  She hadn’t been feeling well today, sort of nauseous and run down.  After forcing herself to eat a menial dinner, she went out to take care of the horses.  That small amount of activity seemed to have exhausted her to the core.  Reasoning that she was coming down with the flu, she settled in on the couch and fell asleep.  She awoke shortly after seven and realized she hadn’t heard anything from Johnny today.  No sooner had worry begun to creep its way into her heart, she was startled by the ringing phone.  She walked to the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello?”  She waited for the operator to go through her spiel, anxious to be able to speak to the voice on the other end.

“Hannah?”

“Hi, John.  How’s it going?”

“It’s going fine…good actually.  We’re coming home tomorrow.”

Hannah’s excitement and relief over this news was overshadowed slightly by concern.  Johnny did not sound quite right and it occurred to Hannah then that maybe they were coming home because he was sick or injured.  “That’s great!  John…are you okay?  You sound as tired as I feel.”

Johnny could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention.  “Tired?  Hannah, is everything all right?  What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, John!  I think I’m just coming down with the flu or something.  It’s no big deal.”

In light of his father’s words, this news did not sit well with Johnny.  “Are you sure?”

Hannah sighed, angry at herself for causing Johnny to worry.  “Yes, I’m sure.  Now, what about you?”

Johnny was quiet for a moment.  There was so much he needed to talk to Hannah about, but not like this, not over the phone.  “I’m good, honey.  Just a little tired myself.  But, I have a lot to tell you when I get home.”

Hannah hesitated, unsure if she wanted to bring this up.  She noticed Justin walking into the room, his hair still damp from his shower and silently let him know who she was speaking to.  “Did you get any answers?”

“Yeah…yeah…I got a lot of answers.  Some good, some bad.  But, it’s okay…I’m okay.  I need to follow Roy to the airport to drop off his rental in the morning.  Then, we’ll head for home.  We’re going to take turns driving so we can drive straight through.  We’ll probably be home by Saturday morning.”

“Okay.  Just be careful.”

“We will.  So, how’s the wedding planning going?”

Hannah’s exhaustion lifted slightly at that question.  “It’s going great!  I got my dress yesterday.  And Justin picked out the most beautiful flowers.  You’ll love it!”

Johnny laughed slightly at the picture of his friend picking out flowers.  “So, Justin has good taste in flowers after all?”

“Well, he’ll never admit it.  In his words, he just pointed out what looked good.  But it works!”

“Good deal.”  Johnny paused for a minute, gripping the phone tightly.  He missed Hannah so much he could feel it, and he didn’t want to break the connection, but the truth was, he felt miserable and he knew he would not be able to hide that fact from her for much longer.  “Hannah…are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.  But, I’ll be even better once you get home safe and sound.”

And I’ll feel better at home where I can keep an eye on you.  “Hannah?  Is Justin there?”

Hannah rolled her eyes.  Justin refused to leave after he figured out his sister wasn’t feeling well. “Yes…he’s still here.  Hang on.”  She handed the phone to her brother.

Justin held the phone to his ear.  “John?”

“Yeah, Justin.  Hey, I don’t have much time…can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can you keep an eye on Hannah for me ‘til I get back?”

Justin smiled.  “Well, I kind of thought that’s what I had been doing, but…”

Johnny’s voice was urgent, and it caused Justin’s own nerve endings to prickle.  “Please, Justin.  Don’t let her out of your sight, okay?”

Justin was about to tell Johnny he was scaring him, but thought better of it.  He didn’t want to alarm Hannah.  “John…”

“I know…I know it sounds crazy.  I can’t really explain it.  Just…please…promise me.”

If Justin knew one thing about John Gage, it was that he was not an alarmist.  If he wanted him to keep a close watch on Hannah, there must be some reason.  “Okay, John.  I have off tomorrow anyway.  I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Yeah…okay.  Thanks, man.”

“Not a problem.”

Justin and Johnny said their goodbyes and then Justin handed the phone back to his sister so that she and her fiancé could do the same.  After the connection was broken, Hannah looked at her brother suspiciously.  “What was that all about?”

“What?”  Justin feigned innocence.

“You know what.  What are you going to ‘take care of’?”

“Nothing that concerns you.  Just a little surprise.  Don’t forget, you do have a wedding coming up.”  Justin made a mental note to discuss with Johnny what this invented surprise might actually entail.

“Hmmm…okay.  But, when you two are up to something, I get scared.”

Justin stood up and turned on the TV.  Then he slumped back onto the recliner, eyeing his sister closely.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  You look a little green around the gills.”

“I’m sure it’s just a bug.”

“Need anything?”

Hannah stood up and draped the throw over the back of the couch.  “No, thanks.  In fact, I think I’m going to hit the sack.  Mrs. Brantley is bringing the puppy over in the morning.”  Hannah yawned and stretched and turned back to Justin who was engrossed in a basketball game.  “Justin?  Did John sound all right to you?”

Justin wasn’t sure how to answer that question.  Something weird was going on, that was for certain, but he didn’t think that’s what Hannah meant.  “He sounded a little tired, I guess.  I’m sure it’s been a difficult experience for him.”

“Yeah…”

“Look, try not to worry.  He’ll be home day after tomorrow and in another two weeks, you’ll be married.”

Hannah forced a smile, but she could not push back the inexplicable anxiety that was mounting.  “Right.  Well…good night, Justin.”

“Good night.”

zzz

Roy glanced over at the passenger seat at Johnny.  His head was leaning against the window and he was shivering.  Roy reached out and turned up the heat, and briefly considered that it was  warmer in this car than it would be inside Camarin’s house.  “You okay?”

“Yeah…just can’t get…warm.”

Roy parked the car next to Johnny’s Rover.  “Just stay here a minute.”  He knocked on Camarin’s door and waited for her to answer.  When she opened the door, he canted his head back toward the still running car.  “He’s really chilled, and I think he might have a slight fever.  Do you have some extra blankets?”

Camarin stood on tiptoe in order to peek over Roy’s shoulder at the hunched figure in the car.  “Yeah.  I…uh…I have a small kerosene heater.  I don’t normally use it unless it gets really cold out, but if you need it…”

“Yeah, I think it would be a good idea.  At least until he warms up a bit.”

“Okay, I’ll set it up in the bedroom and get some extra blankets.  Anything else you need?”

Roy shifted his weight, in an effort to warm up himself.  “Uh…maybe some hot tea.”

“You got it.”  Camarin walked back inside and pushed open the door to the girls’ room.  They were asleep, hunkered down in layers of clothing and blankets.  Camarin moved to the spot beside them where she had been sleeping lately, and picked up the two blankets she intended to use tonight.  She figured she could huddle close to Kaya and Rose and share their warmth.  John needed the blankets more.  She stood and watched them sleep for a few minutes, a lump forming in her throat.  What would become of them if she couldn’t find another source of food and income?  What would become of all of them?  She shrugged off her tears, and retrieved the space heater from the closet, hoping there was enough kerosene in the can outside to last for a few hours.

By the time Camarin had the space heater set up, Roy had helped Johnny inside.  She left the room while Roy helped Johnny out of his wet clothes and she put a kettle of water on the stove.

Roy held the sleeves of Johnny’s sweatshirt so that his friend could shrug into them.  He then wrapped one of the blankets Camarin had supplied around his shuddering shoulders.  Roy was cold and damp himself, so as soon as he had done what he could for Johnny, he changed into some dry clothes.  When he turned back toward the bed, he noticed Johnny was lying in his usual sleep position.  “Not so fast, Junior.  I want to take your temp first.”

“Oh, man…”  Johnny mumbled.  “I’m fine, Roy.  I just…need some…sleep…”

“Humor me.”  Roy said as he shook down the thermometer and deftly slid it under Johnny’s tongue with an ease borne of years of practice not only as a paramedic, but as a dad.

Johnny could feel himself drifting as he tried to concentrate on holding the instrument under his tongue.  It slid out twice, only to be replaced by Roy, until finally he felt it being removed.  He cocked a sleepy eyebrow toward his friend.  “So…what’s the verdict?”

Roy squinted in the dim light from the oil lamp, finally leaning over it in order to read the numbers.  “It’s right around 100.  Not too bad.”  He deposited it back into its case and grabbed Johnny’s wrist for a pulse.  “Anything else going on I should know about?”

Johnny wanted to be irritated at Roy, but he couldn’t.  He knew he was only acting out of concern, and he reminded himself that if the tables were turned, he’d be doing the same things.  “Just…tired.”

Roy watched Johnny for a few minutes to see if he could make out any signs that something was amiss, but he found nothing.  Chalking the fever up to stress and exposure to the elements, Roy walked out to the kitchen to get a cup of tea.  They would be leaving in the morning, and he wanted to let Camarin know, as well as thank her for her generous hospitality.  He entered the kitchen to find her seated at the table.  It looked as if she had been crying.  “Camarin?  Are you all right?”

Camarin straightened up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  “I’m okay, Roy.  I was just thinking about John…”

“And feeling guilty?”

Camarin’s eyes fell.  “A little.”

Roy’s kind eyes sparkled as he took a seat at the table.  “Well, you shouldn’t.  Johnny doesn’t blame you.”

Camarin poured some hot water into a cup for Roy.  “That’s a lie…but, thank you.”

Roy accepted the cup and the infuser from Camarin, curious as to what concoction was inside it.  “Okay, I’ll admit he has a lot to sort out.  But, I think he got some answers out by that tree this evening.  I think it would help if you…well, are you still going to…”

“Tell him?”  At Roy’s nod, Camarin continued.  “Yes, I plan to.  I was going to do it tonight, but if he’s not feeling well…”

“I think you missed your chance there.  He’s out like a light already.”

“What about his fever?”  Camarin was concerned.  There was talk around the reservation about a mysterious illness that was spreading from family to family.  The clinic was a mad house, and there was no word yet from the lab in Rapid City.

“It’s low grade.  I think his resistance is just a little down from everything that’s happened this week, and then being out in the sleet.” 

“Okay, right.  Well, if it’s still elevated in the morning, I can brew some fever tea.  It has purple coneflowers and willow bark in it.”  Melancholy memories made Camarin pause.  Purple cone flowers had been Elizabeth’s favorite, and her mind went back to warm days spent out in the fields, helping Johnny search for enough of them to make a bouquet.

Roy took a sip of the aromatic tea and sat his cup down gingerly.  “Camarin…about tomorrow.  Johnny told me he wants to go home.”

“Really?”  Camarin took a deep breath.  She supposed she should have been prepared for this.  After all, she knew Johnny wouldn’t be staying forever, but now that she had found him again, she wasn’t ready to give him up so easily.

“Yeah…uh…and I…well, we…wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Camarin shook her head and raised her hand.  “It was my pleasure.”  She pushed her tea away, the knot in her stomach leaving room for little else.  “Do you think I should still tell him, then?”

At first, Roy wasn’t sure why Camarin would doubt whether she should tell Johnny they were related, but then he reasoned that maybe she would think he was better off making a clean break from the reservation with nothing to leave behind but memories.  For the briefest of moments, he considered that maybe Johnny would be better off, but quickly thought better of it.  “No, I think it’s only fair to both of you…that he should know.  After all, you’re the only real family each of you has left.”

Camarin thought about Red Elk and what kind of a father he had been.  Then she thought of the love she felt for her girls, and the obvious brotherhood the man in front of her shared with her half brother by blood.  “Sometimes people who aren’t related by blood can be more like family to us than our actual relatives.  I wasn’t much of a sister to John.  I could have made more of an effort to find him…I could have told him the truth…”

“From what little I’ve heard, you were one of the brightest parts of Johnny’s childhood.  That’s what he remembers.”

Camarin was silent while she considered Roy’s words.  After some thought, she finally nodded, sniffing back the tears that were again forming.  “I’ll talk to him in the morning.”

The pair was interrupted by a harsh knock on the back door accompanied by a pleading voice.  “Miss Raven!  Miss Raven!  I need your help!  Please!  Something’s wrong with mama!”

Camarin threw open the deadbolt and ushered in the frightened young man.  “Tag, calm down.  What is it?  What’s wrong?”

“Mama’s real sick.  She’s got that fever…the one that’s going around…but I just got home a little while ago, and I can’t wake her up!  You gotta do somethin’!”

“Fever?”  Roy was remembering another mysterious fever, one that had almost claimed the life of two good friends, including the one sporting a low grade temperature even as they spoke.

Camarin started cramming various herbs into a cloth bag.  “There’s something going around the reservation.  The doctors at the clinic aren’t sure yet what it is.”

Roy suddenly recalled a conversation he had with Johnny a few days ago at the diner.  “That’s right…Johnny told me when he was there…there were a lot of sick people…”  A chill skittered down his back.

Camarin wanted to ask Roy for help, but figured his place was here with Johnny.  At that moment, a tired voice rang out from the hallway door.

“What’s going on?”

Roy moved quickly to Johnny’s side.  “What are you doing out of bed?”

Johnny continued into the kitchen.  “Geez, Roy.  I’m okay.  Besides, I need to use the…uh…facilities.”  He stopped short and raised a curious eyebrow in Tag’s direction, his heart falling at the sight of the fresh bruises on his face.

Camarin quickly filled Johnny in on the situation with Tag and his mother.

“Well, grab your jump kit, Roy.  Let’s go!”  Johnny started moving back in the direction of the bedroom.

Roy called after his friend.  “Johnny, I think it would be best if you stayed here.  Your resistance is already down.  You don’t need to be exposed any more than necessary to whatever we’ve got over there.”

Johnny had already retrieved his jacket and was pulling it over his shoulders.  “Since when has anything like that stopped me before, Roy?  Come on, if there’s something we can do to help…”

Roy was watching Camarin’s face.  Her brow was knitted in confusion as if she was trying to figure something out.  “Besides, someone needs to stay with Kaya and Rose.”  He made eye contact with Camarin, mentally willing her to go along with his idea.  “Right?”

Camarin breathed a sigh of relief.  The truth was, she had been trying to think about what to do with the girls.  She certainly didn’t want to take them along, and she hated leaving them alone this late at night.  She had briefly considered staying with them herself, but she knew both Tag and his mother would be more comfortable with her presence.  “Right.  John, please.  Roy can come with me.  You’re already not feeling your best, and you would be doing me a big favor by staying here.”

Johnny tensed his jaw.  In the end, he knew Roy and Camarin were right.  This was the best decision.  He removed his coat and slumped down at the table.  “All right.  But, if you need help…”

Roy picked up his bag that Johnny had brought from the bedroom and followed the other two outside.  “We know where you are.  Try to get some rest, Johnny.”

“Yeah, right.”  Johnny muttered, as he poured himself a cup of tea.

zzz

Tag led Camarin and Roy into the small room where he had left his mother.  The air was thick with the pungent odor of infection.  Roy allowed Camarin to assess the frail looking woman first, his heart sinking as he noticed she didn’t appear to be breathing.

Tag hovered near his mother’s head.  “Mama?  Mama, wake up!”  He looked over at Camarin questioningly.

Camarin glanced over her shoulder, seeking confirmation of what she already knew.  “Roy?”

Roy’s eyes shifted nervously to Tag as he approached the mattress and knelt down beside it.  He laid one hand on the woman’s diaphragm and the other grasped for the pulse he knew would be absent.  As a final demonstration of effort, he pulled out his penlight, and shined it into the fixed and dilated pupils.  He looked at Camarin and shook his head quickly.

Camarin stood and regarded Tag’s expression of knowing shock and disbelief, as he looked back and forth between her face and Roy’s, as if simply wishing for a better outcome would be enough to change what had happened.  She reached out her arms.  “Tag…”

Tag shook his head emphatically, but one look in Roy’s direction confirmed the truth.  His eyes drifted downward until they fell on his mother’s lifeless form.  “Mama?”  He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her.

Roy took a step back, suddenly feeling like an intruder.  Camarin moved to Tag’s side, and she kept an anchoring arm around him as he pleaded for the spirits to give his mother back.  Disbelief gripped Roy’s heart when he realized that although Tag was visibly distraught, he wasn’t crying…not one tear.  His gaze settled on the bruises the boy sported and he was hit in the gut with an almost overwhelming anger.  He turned away.

“Tag, wait!”  Camarin was on her feet now and running after the young man who had just fled from the room.

Roy sighed heavily and returned his attention to the deceased woman on the mattress.  He moved slowly to her side, and pulled the frayed blanket up over her head, kneeling for a moment beside the bed before rising to his feet and blowing out the oil lamp.  Then he headed back in the direction of Camarin’s house.

zzz

Johnny was standing on the back patio when he saw Tag running toward him, with Camarin making a valiant effort to keep up.  He raised a hand to his eyes, knowing without being told that Tag had just lost his mother.  His stomach turned, the scene playing out in front of him all too familiar.  He ran out into the yard and stopped Camarin before she could run past in continued pursuit.  “Let him go!”

Camarin was out of breath and she struggled to speak as she tried to pull out of Johnny’s grasp.  “But…his mama…she…”

Johnny swallowed hard, his eyes full of understanding.  “I know.”

“But, John…he…”

Johnny wrapped an arm around Camarin’s shoulders.  “Let him go.”

Camarin turned and stared up into the dark eyes of her half brother.  She knew he could relate probably better than anyone to what Tag needed at this moment.

Johnny took one hand and smoothed Camarin’s hair.  “He’ll come back.  And when he does, he’ll need you.  But, until then…just give him some time.”  He pulled her into a hug.

Camarin nodded and looked over as Roy approached.  She pulled away from Johnny’s arms and moved toward the back door.  “Well, let’s go in.  I’ll make us some more tea.”

Roy followed and then noticed Johnny was still standing in the yard.  “You coming?”

Johnny looked up toward the voice then allowed his gaze to track back toward the direction Tag had just gone.  “Yeah…in a minute.”  He watched Roy go inside and shut the door, before picking up a rock from the ground and pitching it hard into the darkness.  Then, he moved onto the patio and sat down on the cold concrete, his chin in his hands.  He thought of the day he and the rest of Chaz’s friends had beaten him up.  Would that have been the fate he would have been subjected to if he hadn’t had people in his life to see to it that it wasn’t?  People like tunkaschila and Aunt Grace?  A life of crime…his “family” a gang of troublemakers?  He found himself praying to the spirits that Tag had people in his life like that.

zzz

Johnny awoke the next morning and looked at his watch.  It was almost 11 a.m.  He had wanted to be on the road hours ago.  Pulling himself out of bed, he stretched carefully and winced at the still sore ribs on his right side.  He heard voices coming from the kitchen, so he padded out to the table where Roy and Camarin were and sat down.  “Why didn’t you get me up?”

Camarin poured him a cup of coffee.  “We figured you needed your rest, especially if you were going to be driving today.”

Johnny took a sip of the coffee, allowing the warmth to cast off the chill in his bones.  He could feel the aching reminder of old injuries this morning and wondered if it was due to the cold, the length of time he slept, or if he was simply getting old.  “Yeah…I guess I was more tired than I thought.”  He took another sip.  “Tag come back?”

Camarin nodded.  “Yeah.  I just left him at home.  The coroner came for his mama early this morning.  He’s uh…well, I guess he’s dealing with it in his own way.”

“Yeah…”  Johnny’s voice trailed off.  He wished there was something he could do for Tag, but right now he couldn’t think of a thing.

Roy picked up on his partner’s silent thought.  “Camarin, if there’s anything we can do…”

“There’s nothing really, Roy.  I’m just worried about him.  He’ll have no one now.  His papa’s never around, and when he is…well…”

“Right.”  Johnny’s jaw tensed at the thought.

Camarin picked up where she left off.  “I’m just afraid he’s going to turn to Chaz’s gang now. I had been hoping he would get away from them.  Tag’s a good kid…a smart kid.  He’s just had a rough life…”

Roy rubbed the stubble on his chin.  “Does he have any other family?  Anyone at all?”

Camarin shook her head sadly.  “No one.  Tag was an only child.  His parents were both born on the rez.  Their parents too.  They’re all gone now.”

Johnny took a deep breath.  So much for his prayer to the spirits last night.  “It’s too bad he’s so young.  We could’ve taken him back to LA with us.  The fire department is always looking for recruits.”

Roy shot a look at Johnny.  If Tag had been a little older it would have been an excellent idea.  “Yeah…”  He turned to Camarin.  “Well, maybe you could keep an eye on him for a few more years…he seems to respect you.  Maybe if you keep talking to him…”

 

Camarin turned away, her eyes full of tears.

Johnny reached over and planted a hand on her shoulder.  “Camarin?”

Embarrassed, Camarin wiped her tears away and got up from the table, carrying the coffee pot back to the stove.

Johnny stood and followed her.  “Look, I know what happened to Tag is…”

Camarin braced her hands on the small counter and closed her eyes, fighting back her emotion.  “No…it’s not that.”

Johnny stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.  “What’s wrong?”

“I…I didn’t want to tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

Camarin wiped at her eyes again and returned to the table, with Johnny following.  She took her seat and looked at both Roy and Johnny’s concerned faces.  This was the last thing she wanted.  She did not want Johnny to be worried about her, especially if he knew the truth about who she was.  He would likely feel obligated to help her and the only thing Camarin wanted was for him to return safely to his family in LA without anything tying him down.  “I…I’m going to be taking the girls and leaving the rez.”

Johnny spoke first.  “What?  Why?”

“Business has been too slow at the diner.  Jake is selling it and moving to New York.  He gave me until the end of the week.  I’ll need to find a job…some way to take care of the girls.”

Johnny’s words came quickly.  “Well, that’s easy.  You and the girls will come back to LA with us.  There are plenty of jobs there.  And, we could help you find something…”

“No…no, John.  Thanks, but…I couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t what?”  Roy spoke from the opposite side of the table.  “Why not?  Johnny’s right.  There are plenty of jobs in LA.  I’m sure you could find something.”

Camarin’s heartbeat quickened as she considered this possibility.  Could it work?  “But…but it costs a lot of money to live out there.  Where would I stay?”

Johnny emptied his cup and leaned back in his chair.  “It doesn’t cost as much as you might think.  There are plenty of low rent apartments, and you would qualify for assistance.  And, you could stay with Hannah and me until you get settled.”

“No, John.  You and Hannah are about to be married!  The last thing you need is me and the girls around.  No, thanks.  I’ll just have to…”

Johnny placed a hand over Camarin’s to quiet her.  “My mind’s already made up.  And I know Hannah won’t mind.  Believe me, after what you did for me…Besides, she would love to meet you…and the girls.”

“I don’t know…”  Camarin chewed on her lip, her mind trying to wrap around this interesting idea.  Every fiber of her being wanted to cry out “no” but the more she thought about it, the more she fell in love with the idea.  Then, her thoughts turned back to Tag, and her expression went from hopeful to disappointed.  “But…if I go with you.  Then…Tag will have no one…”  She grew quiet for a moment, remembering what Johnny had said.  “It’s a shame he’s not old enough.  How old would he have to be?  Twenty one?”

“Eighteen,” Roy and Johnny voiced in unison.

Camarin’s heart skipped a beat.  Of course John and Roy would think Tag was too young, his small, undernourished build making him appear to have just made it through puberty. Her eyes brightened as a smile of hope lit her face.  “Tag is eighteen!”

zzz

Johnny stood in the small, silent cemetery on the edge of the neighborhood where he was born.  The sun had just settled behind the tallest of the badland arroyos out on the horizon.  He would be leaving first thing in the morning.  It had been necessary to stay an extra few days in order to give Tag a chance to bury his mother.  Johnny glanced to his left at the mound of fresh, dark earth.  He shook off a chill.  It was decided that Roy would fly home, so that there would be enough room in the Rover for Camarin, Tag, and the girls.  Johnny had spoken to Hannah to let her know they would be coming home later than they originally intended, and her heart immediately went out to Johnny’s friends.  She insisted that they stay with them before Johnny could even suggest it.  He then had spoken to Justin, asking him again to keep a close eye on Hannah until he tied up the loose ends on the reservation and could make it home.  The conversation had ended with Justin deciding Tag could stay with him for a while so that there would be more room at the ranch for Camarin and the girls.

Now Johnny stood staring down at his parents’ final resting place, his hands clutching a leather pouch full of tobacco and a small bouquet of dried flowers.  A light rain had begun to fall and thunder rumbled in the distance as he knelt down in front of the crude, hand chiseled headstones.  He did not figure he would ever return to the reservation and he hoped that offering this final farewell would help bring the closure he needed to move onto the next chapter of his life with confidence.  He was looking forward to returning to Los Angeles, to Hannah, to his job, to his friends.  But, as he knelt here, the soft aroma of sage drifting in with the misty rain, a lump formed in his throat.  His childhood may have been full of pain, but his roots were here.  This was where he came from, and he felt inexplicably tied to it, as if a part of him would always remain. He whispered a short, remembered prayer in Lakota, one his grandfather had taught him years ago before resting his hand on his father’s memorial.

“Papa…it’s hard to forgive what you did…to me…and to mama.  But, I have to believe that somewhere, deep inside, you wanted things to be different.  I want to thank you for sending me Hannah.  She’s beautiful, papa.  And…I love her so much.  I promise I’ll do my best to make you proud by loving her and our children.  I hope that I’m up to the challenge you say is waiting for us, and that we’ll come out of it stronger and even more in love than before.”  Johnny’s gaze lingered on Red Elk’s grave for a few more moments before turning to Elizabeth’s.  He could feel his eyes burning as he laid the bouquet of flowers on the ground.  “Mama…”  Anything Johnny could have thought of to say was cut off as his emotions finally got the better of him and tears stung his cheeks.  “I love you mama…”  After twenty three years, Johnny finally mourned his parents, the rain washing away his tears until he had none left.

Long moments later, Johnny stood and looked toward the sky.  Two eagles circled overhead, and he smiled, reaching into the leather pouch and sprinkling some tobacco over the ground.  He turned around and was startled to see a familiar figure, watching him from several yards away.

Camarin moved closer.  She had come to the cemetery this morning for similar reasons, wanting to say goodbye to her mother before leaving the reservation, possibly for good.  She was not surprised to find Johnny here, but she did not want to disturb him, instead choosing to give him his space.  “Hi, John.”

Johnny stood in place and allowed Camarin to close the gap between them.  “I was…uh…I was just saying goodbye.”

“I know.”  Camarin pointed her head in the direction of her mother’s grave.  “Me too.”

Johnny looked back down at where his own parents were buried.  “You know…it’s strange.  I didn’t think it would be this hard to leave.  It’s…it’s almost like I finally found my family, and now I’ve lost them all over again.  It’s hard to explain…”

“I understand.”

Johnny nodded.  “Yeah, I guess you would understand how I feel.  After all, you lost your family too.  Camarin…”  He hesitated, unsure if he should ask the question that rested on his lips.

“Yes, John?”

“What…what ever happened to your papa?”  As soon as the words left Johnny’s mouth, he regretted them.  Camarin’s eyes immediately filled with tears, and he reached out for her.  “I’m…I’m sorry.  That’s none of my business…”

Camarin shook her head as her tears turned to a smile.  “It’s all right.”  She took Johnny’s hands in her own and looked down at Red Elk’s marker.  “Because, you see, John.  You haven’t lost your family.  My papa…is right there.”

Johnny let go of Camarin’s hands and took a step back as the implication of what she just said began to sink in.  “What…I don’t understand…”

 

“I was never allowed to tell you.  You have no idea how many times I wanted to…”

Johnny could not believe what he was hearing.  “Wait…you mean…”

“Red Elk slept with my mama years before he met yours.  She was still married to papa at the time, but they hadn’t…well…you know.  So there was no doubt…”

“My God…”

Camarin continued, wanting to get everything out in the open now.  “When papa found out, he was furious.  He left us, left the rez.  I don’t know what ever happened to him.  The thing was mama and Red Elk…they never really loved each other.  It was just something that happened, you know?”

Johnny nodded, afraid to speak.  He could feel renewed anger toward his father begin to surface.

Camarin noticed the tense features, and did her best to ensure Johnny that she had made peace with these demons long ago…at least some of them.  “It’s okay, John.  When your mama came to live on the reservation, I was eight years old.  My mama and yours…They became best friends.  And that’s why…I was never allowed to tell you.  Red Elk and Elizabeth were happy at first, and she didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.  I was there the day you were born.  And, I loved you right away.  I vowed on that day…that I would always protect you.”

Johnny stared at the ground, unable to meet Camarin’s eyes just yet.  “You were always there…I knew I could count on you…”

“I tried my best.  Then later…when things started going wrong…there were many times that I wanted to tell you…I begged mama to let me…but she was afraid it would only make things worse for your mama and you.”

“She was probably right.”

Camarin looked up at Johnny, her eyes wet with tears.  “I should have said something the very first day you came here!  I should have…”

Johnny raised a hand to Camarin’s lips.  He was smiling through tears of his own.  “It’s okay…it’s okay.  I have a sister...”  He waited until Camarin’s expression matched his own before stepping back, his face registering joyful shock.  “I have a sister!”

Camarin nodded happily.

“A sister!”  Johnny swept Camarin off her feet before she had a chance to react and he twirled her around in his arms.  It was when he set her down, that he noticed the rain had stopped and the sky had begun to clear, the suns rays burning a path through the trees along the edge of the cemetery.  Taking Camarin’s hand, he led her through the scattered stones toward her house, so they could put the last of her possessions into the Rover.  His heart was bursting with renewed excitement.  He had come to the reservation after spending his entire adult life thinking he had no family…but now here he was…returning home to his fiancée and the family they would build…with his sister.

Part 3