Two Medicine (43 page)

“
When I’m stressed,” she
said.

I nodded and looked back
over to the fire.  “A lot of that going around. So what do you
have to be stressed about?”

“
It’s not Clayton,” she
said quickly, blowing a thick cloud of smoke out in front of her.
 “I know what that ranger friend of yours thinks – what the
cops think; but they’re wrong.”

“
How do you know what Greg
or the cops think?”  

She smiled at me. “Because
Dee, Greg’s wife, is my cousin.”  

Another surprise… Then
again why did it matter?  Another unexpected connection to
Clayton and Jake, but to what end?  I didn't say anything for
a moment but looked into Sky’s eyes, trying to see what she was
feeling. Did she really care about me or any of this? And if so,
why?  Why was she out there in the middle of the
night?

“
Clayton is not the
problem,” she continued. “Everyone thinks he’s picked up the drug
business where his father left off, but nothing could be further
from the truth.  He’s working hard to reclaim the family
honor.”

I tried to find deception
in her tone, in her eyes, but she was a hard read. “And Jake?” I
asked. “Is he working hard too?”

She looked at me with
suspicion. “Jake is.... going his own way.”  She flicked ash
off the end of her cigarette and shook her head, her bun shaking on
top of her head. “He’s complicated.  But Clayton is
looking
out
for
you, Will.” She reached for my hand again.  “He told me that
some of his father's old drug people, some of the bad crowd around
here, is looking to get you – or get rid of you somehow. They say
you are stirring up things because of Alia’s murder.”

“
I’ve heard this part
already too. But things don’t seem too stirred to me....” I picked
the cigarette from her hand and took a long drag. “What I don’t get
is why they give a shit about some guy working at a camp store for
tourists, wandering around asking a couple of questions in
Browning. How does any of that effect some big drug operation? I
can’t put any of it together…”  

“
It’s because some think
you have stirred up the cops in Browning, bringing more heat.
 Some think you killed a member of the tribe – Alia.”
 She shrugged. “And some think that there’s someone at Two Med
working with the cops as an informant… It’s crazy, Will – it’s
Browning, it’s the Blackfoot.”

I took a deep breath and
blew it out slowly.  “Did Clayton tell his father’s old
buddies they got the wrong guy?”

She nodded and took the
cigarette back.

“
So what am I supposed to
do with all this helpful information?” I asked.

“
Maybe you should just go…
Move back to.... where are you from again?”

I didn’t answer, but
reached over for her cigarette and took a long drag. I could taste
a sweetness from the lip gloss she wore that rubbed off on the
filter. The smoke filled my lungs, which were unused to the poison,
and it made me feel a burning sensation.  She glanced at me as
I blew out the smoke, and then took the cigarette back.

Blowing out that heavy
smoke I suddenly was tired of the whole place: Clayton, Jake,
drugs, cops, all the warnings, all the bullshit. It really did make
me want to pack it all up that night and catch a jammer bus to the
train station. The entire business of working the store and
avoiding being killed by Indians and drug dealers all seemed
suddenly so outrageous, depressing and... senseless.    I
looked at Sky and wondered, yet again, if she could even be
trusted. I needed to know more about her.

“
So how did you get the
name ‘Sky’?”

She didn’t hesitate in
answering. “The same way you got ‘Will’ – my parents.”

“
What’s it mean, though?”
 

“
It means,’ she said,
taking a last drag on the cigarette, “that blue thing above you
during the day.”  She crushed out the cigarette under her
foot.  

“
I actually wrote a poem
about it, a long time ago; and I still remember part of it.” She
stared off at the fire in the distance, watching the other staffers
milling around.

“
I am like the sky: in a
way, close, but in a way distant and untouchable.  I am like
the sky: always changing but always the same.  I am like the
sky: you cannot touch me but I am always here in front of you.
 I am like the sky: I can bring death, yet I protect you
constantly.  I am like the sky: I don’t exist without
you.”

“
A riddle?” I
asked.

She shook her head, her
bun of hair flopping around on top of her head. “A
poem.”

“
Which of those describes
you? Distant and untouchable?  Dangerous or protecting?” I
asked.

“
Tonight I’m protecting,”
she said, looking at me with a frown.  “Tomorrow, I’ll be
dangerous.”  She abruptly turned and walked off towards the
bonfire.

Had I offended her?
 Maybe I had dismissed her warnings too casually; but she
could have no idea that I had already been shocked enough into
numbness at this point, at least for that night.  

I began to
walk back towards the fire to find Katie and
Ronnie.  Ronnie… a major concern for me now, and not just
because of his association with Clayton. I knew he had gotten
wrapped up in some drug deal and I didn’t know how dangerous he may
become. It seemed crazy to me to suspect someone who had become a
good friend so quickly; and I felt like there were two Ronnie’s at
Two Med.

In any event, I had
detected a definite, albeit slight, menace coming from him; and I
knew he had been drawing away from me, from Katie, and from Two
Med.  As I walked back I thought about our early friendship,
or so it had seemed; and it made me sad that I now had to be wary
of hanging around with him. For all his craziness, I still liked
him.

How quickly, in the blink
of an eye, can friend become enemies.

I gathered up Katie and
the told Ronnie we should be heading back. He had joined Jamie at
some point during my little meeting with Sky, and I didn’t see
Clayton or Mirror-Finish Jake anywhere. We eventually got back into
his car, and on the drive back Katie piped up from the back seat
and asked Ronnie why he seemed so moody.

     
Ronnie was smoking a cigarette and just shrugged at the
question. After a moment, Katie looked over at me and asked, “So
who was that girl you went off with tonight?”

I looked at Ronnie; his
eyes didn’t move from the road.
Not a good
subject at this moment, Katie,
I
thought.

“That was Sky,” I said to
Ronnie as much as Katie. “She was just asking about
Alia.”

Ronnie still didn’t look
over, but he shook his head.

Katie caught his gesture.
“Why do you shake your head at that?”

I looked back at her and gave her a warning
expression, which I realized probably confused her all the
more.

“
Why can’t you just stay
away from them?” Ronnie asked, staring ahead at the road. “What is
this fascination you have with getting involved?”

Katie didn’t say anything
and I looked at Ronnie but didn’t answer.

Ronnie spat out the
window. “You have no idea what you’re getting into in Browning, my
man. I’ve already told you – watch your ass.”

“Well,” I said, feeling a
tired anger welling up, “why don’t tell what the fuck is going on,
then? Either tell me what’s going on in Browning that I should stay
away from, or shut the fuck up about it.”

He didn’t respond but just
shook his head slowly again.

Katie sat back in her seat
and looked out her side window and said quietly. “That name fits
her… ‘Sky.’”

I looked out my own window
and tried to figure Ronnie’s involvement in the drugs, and wondered
if he know anything about Alia’s death. To ask him point blank
would be useless, I knew.
I couldn’t wait
to get out of that car.

When I got
back to my room, I saw an envelope on my bed. I
picked it up and saw no addresses written on the front of it.
Opening it I pulled out a one page letter, and something metal fell
out. It was actually two metal things – they were the earrings that
Alia wore, the little, metal earrings she had on when I kissed her.
I held them in the palm of my hand, not believing what I was seeing
for a moment.

I looked at the letter and saw just two
words had been written, scrawled in heavy, dark all capitals:
“LEAVE NOW.”

I set the earrings carefully down on my
bedside table, and stared back at the words on the page. I imagined
Jake’s hand etching the characters, in drunken anger and
desperation. He had killed Alia and stolen her earrings, using them
now as a muted warning for me to get out of town.

I lay in the bed and cupped the earrings
again in my hand, imagining them back on her lobes, dangling over
the curve of her neck. I hoped again that she did not suffer fear
or pain when she died – but I knew it was likely she had. I gripped
the earrings and felt a resurgence of stubborn determination to go
to the powwow and confront my enemies.

Thirty-Six

Saturday, the day of the
infamous powwow, finally arrived, and it dawned cloudy and cold.
Steel grey clouds blanketed the sky and a misty fog lay on the
surface of the lake, hiding all but a few feet from the shore. I
worked that morning on the gift shop side but had arranged the
afternoon off to go to the event. By two p.m., when the powwow
officially started, I was outside the store, waiting for Greg to
swing by and pick me up.

In addition to not wearing
a uniform, I had persuaded him to drive over in his Dee’s minivan,
and not use the ranger truck which obviously would be unwelcome
among the Blackfoot at their sacred, member’s-only
powwow.

I got into the minivan
when Greg pulled up and as we drove off I looked back at the
store.

“
Mornin,” Greg said, with
a subdued tone. He looked over at the store. “So how are things in
there?”

“
Things are a bit
different in there,” I said.

I thought it over for a
moment. “When I started there it was like a family, all of us
getting along and working and living together. But now, near the
last few weeks of the season, all of us are changed, barely speak
to each other… there’s a coldness between us.”

“
So, just like a real
family…” Greg said, smiling at me.

“
I guess so, now that you
mention it.”

Greg rolled down the
window of the van and stuck his elbow out, settling deeper into his
seat. I gave him a sidelong glance. I wondered again why he was
bothering going with me. Wanting to play the cop? Or honestly
concerned for my welfare? I knew he thought of me as a friend, and
genuinely didn’t want to see me get hurt I was pretty sure, but I
remembered also about how he had basically admitted that his
getting involved in Alia’s murder was finally a chance to do
something important, something real, with a job he was clearly
frustrated with.

Maybe it was all just a
way to make up for a career of showing campers and staff his bear
bells and pepper spray, and a job that had him ripping parking
tickets and checking fishing licenses.

I thought about the warning
letter I had gotten, which I had left on the table beside my bed,
and figured I would turn it into Olsterman – maybe they could
finger print it. But then my prints were on it too so what would it
prove? And would they even bother? What I needed was some real
evidence, something that tied Jake to the scene, something
inarguable.
But what?

I decided not to mention it to Greg, not yet
at least – he was worried enough as it was.

In any event, I certainly
was feeling nervous as we drove closer to the Gather area, and I
was glad, no matter the reasons, that he had in fact decided to
come with me, to face whatever it was I was heading
towards.

We drove up
to the large clearing where the Blackfoot powwow
was being held. It was a place as large as about three football
fields, and metal bleachers had been set up on one side. The rest
of the area was grassy patches with little booths and tents set up.
A large crowd had already gathered, and we parked the minivan among
lots of other cars, campers and motorcycles. The afternoon sun had
earlier tried to peek through the cottony-grey blanket of clouds,
but without success, and the sun was now hiding in
defeat.

I could hear some chanting
and beating drums as we exited the van and walked towards the
entrance. Intermixed in the noise was some rock music playing in
the distance.

Greg and I got through the
entrance after giving our names to a couple of ladies at an
entrance booth. Mine was on the list thanks to Thunderbird, and
Greg’s was on it thanks to Dee.

As we meandered through
the crowds, I occasionally caught people staring at us; a young guy
with a Mohawk eyed me warily, an older wrinkled face gazing just
long enough to show that we stood out. I looked for Thunderbird but
didn’t see any sign of him.