Brave Beginnings (23 page)

“So are you saying that Wilcox can fire you
too?”

Mike paused for a moment before he glanced
at the paper in his hands and nodded. “Yes. If we get fired, we get
fired for doing the right thing.”

Relieved, Larry led the way out of the room
and to the potbelly stove where Noah was dozing off in a chair.
Resisting the urge to kick the chair from under Noah, Larry cleared
his throat. Noah didn’t budge. Larry nudged Noah’s legs with his
foot, and Noah jerked awake.

Mike threw the paper onto Noah’s lap. “Get
your belongings. You no longer work here.”

Noah’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t say
anything or move from his spot.

“Do we need to pick you up and toss you out?”
Larry asked.

“What did I do wrong?” Noah replied, looking
incredulous.

“You can look at the paper in your lap and
ask me that?” Larry took the paper off his lap, grabbed Noah’s
hand, and slapped the paper into it. “Take a good look at your
work.”

Noah turned his gaze to the paper but didn’t
respond.

“We gave you two chances. We’re not keeping
you here just because you know Ernest. Now, get out of here and
don’t come back.”

After what seemed like a long time, Noah
finally stood up and went to gather his coat and hat. Larry
breathed a sigh of relief, glad they’d no longer have to deal with
Noah anymore. If Wilcox ended up firing him and Mike, then so be
it.

He waited until Noah left the building and
then turned to Mike. “I’ll go find Chogan.”

Before the day was over, he was determined
that Chogan would have his old job back. He shrugged into his coat
and put on his hat. He left the building and tried to decide where
to find Chogan. The bitter wind lashed against him, so he turned
the collar of his coat up.

The first thing he did was check with Jasper
Mathias who was in charge of cleaning the streets. When Larry
learned that Chogan had quit his job, he went to Chogan’s residence
and knocked on the door.

The middle-aged woman who opened the door
looked surprised to see him. “May I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He took off his hat and
continued, “My name is Larry Bleier. I believe an Indian by the
name of Chogan lives here. I have business to discuss with
him.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What kind of
business?”

Noting the protective instinct about her, he
said, “I work at the Tribune, and I came to offer him his job
back.”

“But I thought…” She drummed her fingers on
the doorknob and shook her head. “Didn’t you fire him a couple
weeks ago?”

“No, ma’am. I didn’t, and I want to give him
the job back. Is he here? I’d like to ask him about this
matter.”

She sighed. “Mr. Bleier, they gave him a job
cleaning streets, and that’s no life for a man who was a prominent
member of his tribe. Chogan and my niece went to his tribe.”

A flicker of regret came over him. He should
have insisted that Chogan keep his position at the Tribune instead
of walking out and letting Mike fire him. Who could blame Chogan
for saying he’d had enough of this place and leaving? If it were
him, Larry would’ve done the same thing.

Placing his hat on his head, he said, “I’m
sorry for what we did to him. I hope he and your niece will be
happy.”

“Thank you.” The woman offered a smile and
then shut the door.

Well, Ernest. It looks like
you got exactly what you wanted. You chased a good man out of
town.
Irritated, Larry shoved his hands
into his coat pockets and headed down the sidewalk.

He glanced across the street and saw Ernest.
Stilling his movements, he debated whether or not he should give
Ernest a piece of his mind. He almost continued on his way, but
Ernest looked in his direction and narrowed his eyes at him.
Gritting his teeth, Larry checked to make sure the road was clear
before he crossed it. Ernest didn’t scurry off as Larry thought he
would. In fact, by the way Ernest smirked at him, it was apparent
that he welcomed the confrontation.

Larry reached Ernest and snapped, “I hope
you’re happy. You drove out one of the best workers Bismarck ever
had.”

“Whatever are you rambling on about?” Ernest
asked in a bored tone.

“Chogan left. He couldn’t find anything
better than a job cleaning streets. He’s better qualified for the
jobs in this town than most of the men are, and you made it so that
he couldn’t find suitable employment.”

Appearing undaunted, Ernest replied, “If he
was that qualified, nothing I said or did would have hindered him
from finding a good job.”

“Have you no concern for your fellow man?
Because of you, he had to leave town.”

“I never forced him to leave.”

“You either don’t understand or you don’t
care to understand. Everything was fine until you said something
that made Wilcox get rid of Chogan. Just what compelled you to run
a man and his wife out of town?”

Ernest’s eyes grew wide. “His wife went with
him?”

“You couldn’t expect either one of them to
stay after what you did. Didn’t it occur to you that she has family
here who will miss her now that she’s gone?”

At that comment, Ernest smirked. “I wouldn’t
worry about her. Once she realizes how savage those animals are,
she’ll come running back home.”

“You’re lucky I’m a gentleman or I’d…” Larry
bit his tongue on the threat.

“Or you’d what?” Ernest drew himself to his
full height and stood eye to eye with Larry. “May I remind you that
your boss wouldn’t like it if one of his employees attacked
me?”

“It’s just a matter of time before I find
the chink in your armor and expose you for the fraud you are.”

Ernest laughed. “A fraud? That’s rich.” He
patted Larry on the shoulder. “As interesting as this conversation
is, I have to go to work. You do realize it’s my bank that your
employer goes through to pay your wages, don’t you?”

“So that’s the warning you gave Wilcox. Now
to figure out why you would stoop so low.”

Ernest frowned but didn’t respond. Instead,
he passed Larry and headed down the sidewalk in the direction of
the bank.

“I’ll be watching you,” Larry said. “You
don’t scare everyone in this town!”

Ernest didn’t glance back to acknowledge he
heard him, and Larry grew even more determined to make sure Ernest
wouldn’t treat anyone the way he’d treated Chogan again.

~~********~~

Julia sat next to Woape in Woape’s lodge and
watched all the activity of the women as they either prepared the
evening meal or finished cleaning up the lodge. Julia held a
sleeping Penelope. Caring for Penelope seemed to be her task for
the past week, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with her
niece, she had to battle the urge to dwell in despair because, once
again, she was menstruating—another reminder that she wasn’t
expecting a child of her own.

As Woape added seasoning to the deer meat
baking over the fire which was in the center of the lodge, Julia
decided to come out and ask her sister-in-law the question she’d
wanted to ask for the past week. “Can I ask you something of a
personal nature?”

Woape glanced at her and nodded. “Yes. What
is it?”

Lowering her voice, she asked, “Is there
anything that women in this tribe take to help them get with child?
I thought since you use ginger to ward off stomach aches, then you
might have something for having children.”

Woape sat closer to Julia. “You haven’t been
married long. It’s too soon to assume you can’t get with
child.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You were
pregnant immediately, and now you’re four months along with your
next child. Is there something you eat or drink that makes this
happen?”

She laughed. “I did nothing different than
what other women in this tribe do, and we use nothing special in
our foods. When we lived in Sykeston, I ate the same foods you
did.”

Julia sighed in disappointment.

“Not all women conceive right away,” Woape
said. “Sometimes it takes a while. My mother was married to my
father for two years before she was expecting me.”

“Yes, but how old was she?”

“Women in this tribe marry earlier than white
women.”

“So that made her how old?”

“I believe sixteen.”

Julia grunted. “I turned twenty-nine last
month. Women my age have a couple of children already. Look at you.
You have two. Sure, one isn’t born yet, but in July, I’ll have
another niece or maybe even a nephew. And you’re…what?
Eighteen?”

“I understand what you are saying. Chogan’s
first wife was with child three times. One did not survive birth
and two were never born. But his wife was sickly. I do not expect
this to happen to you.”

“I knew she had a child that was stillborn,
but I didn’t realize she miscarried twice.” She and Chogan had not
talked much about his first marriage because it wasn’t something
she gave any serious thought to, nor did she particularly care to
dwell on it. However, she wondered if Chogan ever regretted not
having a child that survived. She returned her attention to Woape.
“I’d like to have a child. Ever since I was a little girl, I
assumed I’d have one. I also assumed that it would happen right
away.”

Woape reached out and squeezed Julia’s hand.
“I have heard of a mixture that might work, but I can’t promise
anything. Not every woman who consumes it has a child.”

“Really? What’s in it?”

“I believe saw palmetto, ginseng, oat seed,
milk thistle, and…” She paused and then snapped her fingers.
“Licorice. The last ingredient is licorice. You will take a little
bit of this three times a day. If you might be pregnant, you
shouldn’t take it, so make sure you aren’t before you start.”

“That’s not a problem. I’m in my womanly
time of month right now.”

Woape nodded. “Good. I’ll have it ready for
you in a couple of days.”

Penelope stirred in Julia’s arms and rubbed
her eyes. Julia chuckled. “My niece is adorable.”

Penelope opened her eyes and held out her
arms to Woape who took her in her arms. “Did you have a good
sleep?” Woape asked her as she tickled her.

Penelope laughed and wiggled.

Julia smiled, touched by the scene playing
out in front of her. With any luck, in a year, she’d be able to do
the same with her own child.

***

Larry pulled the reins on his horse as two
Mandan Indians and a white man came out to meet him from the tribe.
He waited until they stopped a good two meters away from him before
he tilted his hat and said, “Good afternoon.”

The older Indian nodded at the white man who
turned his attention to Larry. “Good afternoon. What is your
business here?”

“I was told that a man named Chogan lives
here. I wish to speak with him,” Larry replied, unsure of whether
he should get down from the horse or remain seated on it.

They were on foot, and it only seemed right
Larry should be too, but if they said Chogan wasn’t there, then
he’d just have to get right back up on the steed. He waited while
the white man spoke to the two Indians in their language. The older
Indian responded.

The white man looked at him. “Chogan is here,
but they want to know why you want to talk to him.”

“I work at the Bismarck Tribune,” Larry
slowly began, not wishing to go into all the details. “It’s the
newspaper. I was Chogan’s supervisor. There was some disagreement
as to whether or not to keep him employed. Long story short, he was
fired. I came here to offer him his job back.”

The white man turned to the Indians and spoke
to them. The Indians glanced at one another and nodded before the
older one spoke to the white man and motioned for Larry to enter
the tribe.

The white man looked Larry’s way. “I assume
you understand that you are welcome to enter.”

“Thank you,” Larry said and offered a
smile.

The older one gave a slight smile in return
and the younger one nodded while maintaining a solemn expression on
his face.

The men watched him, so Larry got off the
horse. That seemed to be what they waited for since they turned and
led him through the entrance of the wooden fence that surrounded
the tribe. Larry wasn’t sure what he expected from a tribe. Snow
covered lodges surrounded the center of the tribe where a round
fence stood close by a larger lodge that he figured had to be the
center of their activity. As he scanned the rest of the lodges, he
thought of snow covered hills that dotted the landscape on his way
to the tribe. The lodges were fairly close to each other and seemed
to be grouped together. Larry figured it was much like being in
Bismarck where people built their houses next to one another. The
only difference seemed to be that the Indians were far less in
number so their community was smaller.

Indians hustled about, going from one lodge
to another, and a few men stood outside talking over the fate of a
dead coyote and deer.

The older Indian said something to the white
man and then motioned for the younger one to follow him to one of
the lodges.

Larry turned to the white man. “I take it
that you will be the one leading me to Chogan.”

“Yes. Chogan is my brother-in-law. My name is
Gary Milton.”

“Ah, yes. I remember Chogan mentioning you
one time.”

“Oh? Did he say anything good?”

Larry felt a smile tug at his lips. “He said
you are fortunate they need an interpreter in the tribe because you
can’t shoot an animal to save your life.”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Chogan thinks anyone
who can’t shoot an animal between the eyes on his first try is
inadequate when it comes to hunting. I can shoot anything as long
as I use a gun, but he doesn’t think a gun counts. Guns are too
easy. There’s no challenge in the hunt, he says. I say it doesn’t
matter. The result is the same. You still get your food.” With a
shake of his head, he continued, “Anyway, he’s right over
here.”