Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (6 page)
“You are Hoka-Psice.
Or at least, you would like me to think you are.”
The beast nodded thoughtfully, “And what makes you doubt it?”
“Hoka-Psice is dead.
And I am not.”
The beast charged forward, his mouth open to reveal shining white fangs as he snapped at Thasuka Witko, making him scurry away.
“What makes you so sure, little one?”
“I have not received the final vision telling me who will lead the tribe after I am gone.
Until I know, I cannot depart from this world.”
The creature snarled at him and said, “What do you think this is, my son?”
***
Mahpiya the Elder squeezed a wet cloth over Thasuka Witko’s forehead and frowned.
He touched the Chief’s face and dug into his medicine bag.
“What is the root that brings down fever?”
The boy sitting in the tent next to him squeezed his eyes shut and said, “The one shaped like a bent over old lady.”
“Its name?”
“Is it hobblebark?”
Mahpiya nodded, “Go find me some.”
Lakhpia-sha jumped to his feet and raced out of the tent, nearly colliding into the Chief’s youngest son, Thathanka-Ska.
“Watch out!
I have to get something.”
Thathanka-Ska hurried after him, trying his best to keep up.
He moved like a baby leaper, wobbling on long, thin legs it was not used to.
Only a year ago, the boy had barely come up to Lakhpia-Sha’s chest, and now he was just two inches shorter than his older brother, Haienwa’tha.
“How is he?” Thathanka-Ska said.
“His fever is worsening.
Mahpiya thinks he is going to cross over tonight.”
“What?”
Lakhpia-Sha looked back and realized the younger boy had stopped in his tracks.
He turned around and put his hand on his friend’s arm, “I am sorry.
I know you are upset.”
“What about the tribe?
There is no Chief if he dies.
We’ll be all alone.”
“Mahpiya said that no Chief has ever crossed over without designating a new leader.”
“But what if he does?”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“He doesn’t,” someone said from the shadows.
Haienwa’tha came forward, wearing a blanket around his shoulders that he clasped under his chin.
“He is just repeating what the old man told him.”
He looked at Lakhpia-Sha, “Why aren’t you with Mahpiya?
An apprentice belongs at his master’s side.”
“I need to find something for him.”
“So?
Go find it.”
Haienwa’tha nodded to his brother and said, “I am going to stand outside of the tent to be there if he passes.
I want his spirit to see us and know that it is safe to leave this world.
You must put on a brave face if you want to come with me.
Can you do that?”
The boy nodded and wiped his eyes and cheeks.
He followed Haienwa’tha up the hill toward their father’s tent and said, “Are you scared?”
“No.
Our ancestors will greet Thasuka Witko with open arms.
He will enter the circle of Great Chiefs and not be in any pain anymore.”
“I meant about being the next Chief,” Thathanka-Ska said.
Haienwa’tha laughed sharply, “What gave you that stupid idea?”
“You are his oldest son.
That is the way of things.”
“I’m too young.
The women’s council would never allow it and I would not expect them to.
A Chief needs qualities that I do not possess yet, or else no one will follow him.”
“I’d follow you,” Thathanka-Ska said softly.
“Then follow me up to the tent then and remember, no looking sad.”
He smiled at his younger brother and put his arm around his shoulder as they walked.
***
At midnight, Mahpiya emerged from the medicine tent and said, “It is time.
Gather the people.”
The women came down from the encampment, escorted by the warriors of the tribe.
Young mothers bounced their little ones to keep them quiet as their husbands stood next to them, standing on their toes to see what was happening.
Mahpiya held the tent flap back as ancient Agaidika, the oldest woman of their kind, made her way through the crowd to enter.
Mahpiya waved his hand at the Chief’s sons and said, “Come.”
Thathanka-Ska winced at the site of his father shivering on the soft fur rug.
He was pale as the moons and sweat poured off of his body like fat raindrops.
Agaidika touched her lips and pressed her fingers against his forehead.
“Be at peace, brave warrior.
Your sons are with you.”
Mahpiya smacked this long wooden staff against the ground and said, “Chief Thasuka Witko!
The people are gathered to hear your vision.
Speak it before you cross.”
Thasuka Witko’s eyes fluttered open and his mouth worked reflexively with nothing but a long, soft moan emerging.
“I have…seen the future.”
“What is it?” Mahpiya said.
“A Chief…who walks through the flames.
Who leads our people out of the desert and into the new lands.”
Agaidika leaned forward and said, “Who is this man you speak of, Thasuka Witko?”
“To the land of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu, my oldest son must travel.”
He looked up at Haienwa’tha, his large brown eyes filling with tears as he plead, “You must find him.
You must find him and bring him back to us before it is too late.”
“Too late for what, father?” Haienwa’tha said.
“…too late,” Thasuka Witko whispered.
Haienwa’tha bent to one knee and took his father’s frail hand in his own.
“I will find this man and bring him back no matter what.”
Thasuka Witko waved for his younger son to come closer.
Thathanka-Ska took his father’s hand and kissed it.
“Please stay,” the boy whispered.
“Please do not leave us.
I beg you.”
Haienwa’tha glared at his brother, but Thasuka Witko dismissed the look and smiled gently at the boy.
“You must go as well, but…ugk…will not believe.”
The great chief laid his head back against the rug and closed his eyes.
Mahpiya gasped aloud and looked up at the tent’s roof as if something had shot up into the air that only he could see.
He spun and tore open the tent flaps, staring into the dark sky in wonder and pointed.
“Thasuka Witko is now with his ancestors, and will hunt the hills of this land no more.”
"A government man says he'll get me out of here if I set you up," Bob Ford said.
"Come on now, Bob.
Would you do that to your old partner?"
"You ain't come get me out like you promised.
You weren't there when the sons of bitches came to…" Bob's voice died in his throat.
Gentleman Jim sighed and put his arm against the bunk, shaking his head sadly as he said, "Why do you think I never came to get you, Bob?
You think I can have some sissy boy riding with me?
What would people say?"
"It wasn't my fault!"
"Yeah, but you're spoiled now.
You been turned."
"No I haven't."
The bandit leaned down over Bob and said, "Then let me ask you a question.
Why in the hell are them bastards still breathing?"
Bob Ford stood up from his bunk and went over to the sink to run the foul yellow water over his hands.
He dunked his head under it and started to scrub until it was soaking wet.
The prison staff only gave the inmates safety razors and greasy lard cream to shave with, so it took Bob a fair amount of pulling and ripping to cut off all his hair and get himself bald.
He picked up the safety razor and inspected it in the darkness, feeling the small but sharp edges housed in plastic.
The next morning, he got out of his bunk and draped his towel over his arm, keeping his hand hidden as he headed for the showers.
“Boy, look at the shiny dome on young Bob,” someone hollered.
“Looks even more like a walking pecker than he did before, if that’s possible.”
He stopped at the edge of the concrete floor, feeling the slippery tile with his toes.
He stripped out of his loose shirt and pants and headed for the stall.
Bob dropped a bar of soap into his towel and wound it in his hand and held it by its tail.
“Shower time again, Bob?” someone said from behind him.
“Ain’t seen you in here in two weeks.
Where’s your guard friends?
Thought you weren’t coming in here without them anymore.”
“I don’t need them,” Bob said.
He heard the shiver in his own voice and cursed it.
He sucked in enough air to fill his chest and turned around to face the other men.
There were three of them.
The same three it always was.
The fat one looked at the towel in Bob’s hand and sneered, “What you gonna do with that, Bob?
Towel us off when we’re done?”
The men came forward around the edges of the shower, surrounding Bob.
Bob remained still.
“We been nice to you so far, boy.
Gentle as lambs.
Why you wanna change up the arrangement?”
“There is no arrangement,” Bob hissed.
“You all are going to leave me alone!”
