Reservation Blues - Alexie Sherman (10 page)

Ya-hey, Junior said, did you know Elvis was a cavalry
scout in a previous life?

In his dream, Thomas strummed the guitar and pleaded
with Victor.

Really, Thomas said. I 'm scared to be famous.

Well, Junior said, I think we should worry about
learning to play our instruments better first.

Yeah, Victor said. And we don't have nothing to worry
about we keep you as the lead singer anyway.

Yeah, Junior said. And besides, the only famous
Indians are dead chiefs and long-distance runners.

In his dream, Thomas looked at his bandmates. He
wondered what they really felt. He wondered what those snakes felt on
the electric fence. Thomas held his guitar closely and felt its
power, then noticed that he was holding Robert Johnson's guitar.

In the dream, he hit a chord, felt a sharp pain in
his wrists, but the music tasted like good food.

"
What you doing with my guitar?" Victor
shouted and ripped Thomas from his dream. Thomas lay on the couch in
the Warm Waters' house with Robert Johnson's guitar beside him. It 's
Victor's guitar now, Thomas corrected himself.

"I didn't want it to get cold, " Thomas
mumbled, although he had no idea how the guitar ended up in the
house, and handed it over to Victor.

"
Well, thanks for nothing," Victor said.
"It was hotter than hell outside."

"Oh, man," Junior said as he stumbled into
the house. "I got a hangover."

"There's coffee in the kitchen," Thomas
said.

Junior made his way to the kitchen just as Chess and
Checkers emerged from their rooms.

"What's going on?" Checkers asked.

"What's for breakfast?" Victor asked.

"Your ass on a plate," Chess said. "Fix
it yourself."

"Oh, a rowdy one,'" Victor said. "I
like them rowdy."

Victor opened the refrigerator, pulled out the
ingredients for a cheese and vegetable omelet, and cooked up enough
for everybody. They were all shocked by Victor's culinary skills.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Chess asked.
"Prison?"

"
My father used to cook," Victor said.

"Your stepfather?" Junior asked.

"Yeah, only thing he was good for."

Coyote Springs sat down to breakfast with Chess and
Checkers. The omelets tasted great. Victor wanted to say something
profound and humorous about eggs but couldn't think of anything, so
he farted instead.

"
You're disgusting," Chess said, picked up
her plate, and walked outside to eat. Thomas gave Victor the old
Spokane Indian evil eye and followed her. Checkers finished her
breakfast, washed her plate and fork in the sink, and then returned
to her bedroom. Junior and Victor watched her the entire time.

"
She's real pretty, enit?" Junior asked
after Checkers closed her bedroom door.

"A great ass," Victor said.

"You don't have a chance!" Checkers shouted
from her room. Victor and Junior ate the rest of their omelets in
silence.

Outside, Chess and Thomas talked between bites.

"
You know," Thomas said, "Coyote
Springs is better than we sounded last night."

"
I hope so," Chess said.

"No, really. Victor and Junior were all drunk."

"
Do you drink?"

"No," Thomas said, "I don't drink."

Chess smiled. When Indian women begin the search for
an Indian man, they carry a huge list of qualifications. He has to
have a job. He has to be kind, intelligent, and funny. He has to
dance and sing. He should know how to iron his own clothes. Braids
would be nice. But as the screwed-up Indian men stagger through their
lives, Indian women are forced to amend their list of qualifications.
Eventually, Indian men need only to have their own teeth to get
snagged.

Chess suffered through an entire tribe of Indian
boyfriends. Roscoe, the champion fancydancer, who passed out in full
regalia during the Arlee Powwow and was stripped naked during the
night. Bobby, the beautiful urban Indian, transferred to the
reservation to work for the BIA, who then left Chess for a white
third-grade teacher at the Tribal School. Joseph, the journalist, who
wrote a powerful story on the white-owned liquor stores camped on
reservation borders and then drank himself into cirrhosis. Carl, the
buck from Browning, who stashed away a kid or two on every
reservation in the state, until his friends called him The Father of
Our Country.

"Really?" Chess asked Thomas again to make
sure. Maybe she had snagged the only sober storyteller in the world.
"You mean, you've never drank. Not even when you were little?"

"
No," Thomas said. "I read books."

"Do you have any kids?" Chess asked.

Thomas hid his face.

"Oh," Chess said, disappointed. "You
do have kids. How many?"

She loved kids but placed a limit on the number of
children and ex-wives she allowed her potential snags to claim.

"No, no," Thomas said. "I don't have
any kids. You just surprised me. I'm not used to personal questions.
Nobody ever asked me any personal questions before."

"
You ever been married?"

"No, have you?"

"No. Any girlfriends?"

"
Not really," Thomas said.

"
Ya-hey!" Victor shouted from the kitchen.
"I think Junior is going to throw up."

"
You know," Chess said, "that Victor
is a jerk. And his clothes. He looks like he got in a fight with the
seventies and got his ass kicked."

"Well," Thomas said, "he doesn't have
any money. That's why he's in the band. That's why we're all in the
band, you know?"

"
I was wondering why you put up with him,"
Chess said.

She and Checkers fought fires for the BIA during the
summers, traveling all over the country, and struggled to make the
money last through winter.

"
Only problem is we're not making any money."

"
Really? Even a bad band can make money, enit?"

"I hope so. But we're pretty good, really."

"
I believe you, really," Chess said. "That
junior is nice, enit? He's good-looking, but sort of goofy, though.
He sure lets Victor boss him around, enit?"

"Yeah, it's always been that way."

"
Too bad," Chess said. "Junior could
be a major snag."

"You mean," Thomas said, "that he's in
the way?"

"No," Chess said. "I mean he could be
a good catch for an Indian woman. A snag, you know?"

"Oh," Thomas said, still clueless, so he
changed the subject. "I really liked singing with you last
night. You're really good."

"Yeah, I had a good time, too."

"You know," Thomas said, "I have an
idea. How would you and Checkers like to join the band?"

"
I don't know," Chess said. "Do we
have to dress like Victor?"

"
Not at all."

"I don't know," she said again. "We
have to hang around here during the summer. In case we get called to
fight a fire."

"Listen. You can sing great, and I'm sure
Checkers can sing, too. We need you. Something tells me we need you."

"I don't think so, Thomas. I mean, I like you a
lot, but Checkers and I live here. We're from here. We shouldn't
leave."

"You have to think about it," Thomas said.
"Give us a chance."

Chess shook her head.

"
Wait!" Thomas shouted. "Victor.
Junior. Get out here. Let's practice some."

Victor and Junior strolled outside, followed by
Checkers.

"
°What's all the shouting about?" Checkers
asked.

"Thomas wants us to join Coyote Springs,"
Chess said to her sister.

"No fucking way," Victor said. "We're
a warrior band."

"Well," Thomas said. "We're a
democracy. How about we vote on it?"

"Okay, go for it," Victor said, confident
that Junior hated the idea, too.

"All those in favor, raise your hand, "
Thomas said and held his right hand up Junior raised his hand and
smiled weakly at Victor.

"
That does it," Thomas said. "The
women are in."

"
No way," Victor said again.

"You agreed to vote, "' Thomas said.

"Hey," Chess said. "I said we don't
want to be in the band."

Checkers never liked her sister to speak for her, but
she agreed with Chess. Forest fires paid the bills.

"Wait," Thomas pleaded with everybody. "How
about we play some? Then you can decide if you want to join."

Junior ran to the van, pulled out a hand drum, and
beat out a rhythm. He surprised the sisters with his sudden talent.
Thomas sang the first bar of a jazzed-up Carpenters song, while
Victor stood sullenly with his guitar at his side. He wanted to
resist all of it, but the guitar moved in his hands, whispered his
name. Victor closed his eyes and found himself in a dark place.

Don't play for them. Play for me
,
said a strange voice.

Victor opened his eyes and hit the first chord hard.
Junior and Thomas let him play alone; Chess and Checkers stepped
back. Victor grew extra fingers that roared up and down the
fingerboard. He bent strings at impossible angles and hit a note so
pure that the guitar sparked. The sparks jumped from the guitar to a
sapling and started a fire. It was a good thing that Chess and
Checkers had extensive firefighting experience, and they hurriedly
doused the flames, but Victor continued to toss sparks. His hair
stood on end, his shirt pitted with burn holes, and his hands
blistered. Victor raised his right arm high above the reservation and
windmilled the last chord, which echoed for hours. He dropped the
guitar, staggered back a few steps, then bowed.

"
Jeez," Chess and Checkers said after a
long while.

‘"
Where do we sign up?"

* * *

Thomas, junior, and Victor camped on the Flathead
Reservation for a week after the Warm Waters joined the band, living
meagerly on their shared money. The boys stayed at the sisters'
house, although Chess and Checkers objected to the smell, but all
agreed the band needed to practice with its new members. Thomas even
drove down into Missoula to buy a third-hand synthesizer for Chess
and Checkers to share.

"How much that cost you?" Victor asked him.

"
Five bucks and a funny story, " Thomas
told him.

Coyote Springs rehearsed for hours in the Warm
Waters' backyard. At first, they sounded awful, dissonant,
discordant. Victor only occasionally replicated the stunning
performance that convinced the sisters to join the band. Junior broke
so many drumsticks that he switched to pine branches instead. Chess
and Checkers sang better than Thomas, which made the distinction
between backup and lead singers less sure. Thomas decided to share
the lead. Still, Coyote Springs melded faster than any garage band in
history.

"We should call that Tipi Pole Tavern guy,"
Victor said.

"I think we're ready to rock."

The owner of the Tipi Pole Tavern listened to the
newest incarnation of Coyote Springs and agreed to hire them again.
Coyote Springs packed their gear into the blue van and headed for the
tavern.

"Ladies and braves," the bartender
announced. "It's a great honor to welcome back that rocking band
from the Spokane Indian Reservation, Coyote Springs."

The crowd cheered.

"
And it's a special honor to introduce the two
newest members of the band," the bartender continued. "Two
of our own Flathead Indians, Chess and Checkers Warm Water."

Coyote Springs walked on stage with confidence.
Thomas smiled as he stepped to the microphone.

"Hello, Arlee," Thomas shouted, and the
place went crazy. Victor counted off, and the band launched into its
first song, a cover of an old KISS tune.

The sisters joined in on the vocals after a bit;
Chess pounded the keyboard hard, like her fingers were tiny hammers.
She wanted to play it right but loved the noise of it all. Checkers
pulled the ties from her hair and sang unbraided. Chess picked the
ties up from the floor and somehow braided her hair with one hand.
Both threw a
wayya hiya
into the chorus of the song. Coyote Springs created a tribal music
that scared and excited the white people in the audience. That music
might have chased away the pilgrims five hundred years ago. But if
they were forced, Indians would have adopted the ancestors of a few
whites, like Janis Joplin's great-great-great-great-grandparents, and
let them stay in the Americas.

The audience reached for Coyote Springs with brown
and white hands that begged for more music, hope, and joy. Coyote
Springs felt powerful, fell in love with the power, and courted it.
Victor stood on the edge of the stage to play his guitar. Despite his
clothes, the Indian and white women in the crowd screamed for him and
waited outside after the show.