****************************************************************************
  *                          "NEW TO TEACHING LOVE"                          *
  *                                 (part 7)                                 *
  *                              by Vince Water            February 11, 2005 *
  ****************************************************************************
  |  Copyright 2005-2006 by Vince Water                       Corrected 5/06 |
  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

     "What can I do for you, Mrs. Winnapah?" the man asks in his loud voice.

     "I want to pay off the balance to my house."

     "Really?" Mr. Flander's voice softens in surprise. "All of it?"

     "Yes, please. How much is that?"

     "Well... let me see..." Mr. Flanders turns to his computer and key enters
  in Mr. Winnapah's account. "Ah, yes. The balance owed is $85,962.53 not
  including closing costs."

     "Closing costs?" asks Winna. "How much is that?"

     "$6,421 on top of the amount I've just given you."

     Winna gasps. "That much! Why?"

     "You're prematurely ending your loan with us so it's a way that we can
  recover some of our costs," explains Mr. Flanders in a loud voice. "We were
  expecting to earn interest over the full term of your loan that would have
  covered this amount."

     I don't like the man's wolfy grin. It makes me angry for some reason and
  to my surprise, words spring from my mouth. "Why not forgo the closing costs?
  You're getting back in full what you've loaned Winna and her husband."

     "What... what did you ask? No. I can't do that, Mr. Yager."

     Our eyes meet. I'm Gleaning things from this man that angers me! I stand
  up from my chair to tower threatening over him. "You are aware that her
  husband, Looks-from-mountain had forged her signature to take out half of the
  money from their house." I didn't voice that as a question.

     "No..." Mr. Flanders says softly. "I don't know what you're talking about,
  Mr. Yager."

     "You knew."

     "Are you accusing me of something?" barks Mr. Flanders.

     "Mike!"

     "Don't say anything," I warn Winna in Siksika. "Let me play this out."
  A quick mind burst is Sent to Jesse. Now he knows what I've Gleaned from
  this man and he adds his support. Power rises in us.

     I turn my gaze back on Mr. Flanders. "Mrs. Winnapah can go to court and
  recovering the money taken from her illegally. Then your company would be
  forced to go after her husband for compensation if you can find him but you
  won't risk doing that, will you? Your role in this fraud would come out."

     "Her husband is entitled to his half of the house," defends Mr. Flanders.

     "Yes. If they were to divorce and split their assets legally." I've
  emphasized that last word. Mr. Flanders slowly rises from his chair as if
  seeking a way to escape. "All we want you to do is forgo the closing costs."
  The man sits back down in his chair. His eyes twitch from quick thinking.

     "I don't know what lies this man has been feeding you, Mrs. Winnapah but
  I deny everything that he's said."

     How soft this man's voice has become. I see the dread on Mr. Flander's
  face that he thinks he's keeping from us. I'm shaking my head at him.

     "Mr. Yager is an accused cop killer!" shouts Mr. Flanders. "That's got to
  tell you something about his character."

     I shrug that off. Winna turns to me but I'm still boring down on this man
  with my eyes. Jesse's Power flows through me to press our attack on him.

     "My husband is entitled to half of the money from our house," says Winna.

     Mr. Flanders breathes a sigh of relief. "Yes, he is."

     Winna's voice turns nasty. "But not through tricking me! I did not know
  about this supposed loan against my house and I certainly did not sign those
  papers you accepted from my husband's attorney."

     "Yet you've been paying the increased mortgage without complaint," says
  Mr. Flanders.

     "Until now. That was for the sake of my son so he wouldn't know what his
  father had done to us."

     "Mom. If we go to court, my dad will have to show up and then I'll tell
  him how mad I am for what he's done to us!"

     From our Connection, I know that Jesse said that mainly for its affect on
  Mr. Flanders yet part of him hopes that his dad will be forced to come to
  court where he can see him if our bluff fails.

     "Forgo the closing costs," I whisper. "That's all we want."

     Mr. Flanders lifts up his hands in surrender. "Very well! By doing so, I'm
  not admitting any wrong doing you understand? We'll close your account today
  and part ways. I didn't want to get entangled in the affairs of your
  estranged husband and it's very unfair of you to do so, Mrs. Winnapah."

     "You've brought this upon yourself," says Winna.

     A deadly silence passes. Mr. Flanders turns to his computer screen and
  plucks a few keys. He then turns to Winna red faced.

     "Are you prepared to pay the final amount of $85,962.53 today?"

     Winna turns to me. I'm nodding.

     "Yes. We are," answers Winna.

     "I can get a cashier's check for that amount right now from my bank in
  the plaza while you process the paperwork. I'll need Winna's account number
  to her loan with your company to put on its memo line." Mr. Flanders jots it
  down on a post-it and pushes it along his polished desk to where I can reach
  it. I'm taking it. "I'll be right back with that check." Jesse smiles at me.
  :Stay here with your mom and don't let this man get away after I leave.:

     :You're not going for the police?: Asks Jesse.

     :Hell, no. I don't think your mom would take this to court and besides,
  what I've Gleaned about Mr. Flanders couldn't be presented as evidence to
  prove his complicity with your dad's attorney. I'm just glad to be saving
  your mom $6,421 by making him forgo those stupid closing costs.:

     :You will hurry back,: Asks Jesse.

     I give my lover an assuring grin. :You know I will.: After taking one last
  look at Winna who's sitting like a stone in her chair, my gaze falls back on
  Mr. Flanders. He quickly lowers his eyes from mine. The office door is shut
  behind me and I'm off to the bank with a sly grin on my face. I've done good!


     Winna hands the mortgage closure documents over to her son and turns
  the key in her truck's ignition with a sigh. All of us are feeling a sense
  relief. Without a word from anyone, we exit the plaza and drive on to our
  next thing to do. I'm not sure what that is. "Where are we going?" I ask.

     "To the DMV," Winna softly answers. "After I renew the plates to your
  truck, we'll go to my insurance company."

     I press my hand over the wad of bills in my front right pocket. $2,000 in
  mostly hundred dollar bills that I've withdrawn from my bank was too much for
  my wallet to hold. Half of that is going to pay for the truck's repair today.
  I'm gonna put the rest in our bedroom for future needs. Winna stops at a
  light and turns to me.

     "Thank you, Mike. I really appreciate what you've done for me!"

     "I'm glad to help." There's something else on this woman's mind but I stop
  myself from Gleaning it. Winna's family so doing that to her would be wrong.

     "How did you know back there?"

     I'm shrugging my shoulders. Jesse keeps his eyes forward as if he didn't
  hear his mom ask that.

     "Mike. I really want to know how you knew that Mr. Flanders was involved.
  You didn't mention any of this to me before. It took me rather by surprise."

     :Tell her, love.:

     I'm releasing a tense breath. "I was taken by surprised by it, too."

     "You didn't know until meeting Mr. Flanders? Then how... Short Hair!"

     Funny how Winna uses the name Jesse has given me when she's talking about
  Indian magic. She dares to look across at me while she's driving. I know that
  this woman isn't gonna take her eyes off me until I tell her. "Jes-ee-ah has
  the Sight for what is coming and I can See into people for what they've done.
  I'd Gleaned that Mr. Flanders had been up to no good."

     After enduring the woman's gaze, relief fills me when she looks forward at
  the road. We drive for a few more blocks when Winna speaks again.

     "Are you often reading my thoughts?"

     "No, Winna. You don't understand. When I meet someone, sometimes I can
  Glean things about them as if they've told me some of their past. I'm not
  doing that with family."

     "You can't read my thoughts?"

     "No. That's your son's gift to Look inside a person to know what they're
  feeling and read surface thoughts, and only when he's touching them." Winna
  seems satisfied with that. The rest of our drive to the DMV is in silence.


     I'm taking a "Rules of the Road" book from the wall and hand it over to
  Jes. His mom is standing in a long line.

     "What's this for?" Jesse asks.

     "You're gonna study up, my boy. I'll have your practice driving my truck
  in the reservation until I think you're ready to pass the test."

     "For my driver's license?"

     "Yeah." I'm Sensing my lover's concern. He's a bit scared about driving
  and thinks I'll be taking him around so why get one. "Jes. You can't expect
  people to chauffer you for the rest of your life like grandfather does."

     "He rode a horse," defends Jesse.

     "Well. In this day and age, people ride in iron carriages that don't need
  to be pulled by horses along paths of flattened black stone." Jesse giggles.
  "You may get a truck of your own, one day. I can't always be along when you
  pay visits on the People seeking the aid of their shaman." He gets it.

     Jesse and I find seats. He's turning the pages in his driver's handbook
  while we wait for his mom. That takes half an hour. When it's her turn to be
  served, I join her since I've business of my own to attend to. There are a
  few grumbles from the people waiting in line behind us.

     My Indiana license is surrendered when they approve my application form to
  obtain a driving license in Montana. Winna vouched for my current address.
  Luckily, they didn't require me to take any tests (written or on the road)
  but I did have to get my eyesight checked. My picture is taken. Winna has
  taken care of renewing her husband's truck's registration.

     They give me a temporary driver's license until the one with my photograph
  arrives in the mail at Winna's house. It's official now. I'm a resident of
  Montana. The truck's license sticker will also be mailed to us. Proof of
  registration will have to be displayed in my rear window for the cops to see.
  I ask Winna how much that cost.

     "Don't worry about it," says Winna. "You can pay for next year."

     Our next stop is at Winna's insurance company. She gets a multi-vehicle
  discount for her husband's truck they'd previously insured that only comes to
  $783 a year. That covers liability (if it's my fault hitting someone) and I
  also have injury coverage. Winna gladly accepts the cash I'm pulling from my
  pocket to cover the check she's written to her insurance company.

     I'm looking at my watch. We'll have just enough time to pick up my truck
  from the garage and maybe get a bite to eat before I go meet with my lawyer
  at two o'clock. Winna follows my directions on how to get there.


     We pull into Paul River's Garage. I'm looking around for my truck and find
  it parked in the corner of the lot. At least I think that's it. The lumber
  rack is gone but so too are the rust spots the truck had suffered along its
  sides and tailgate. Winna parks behind it. We're getting out to take a closer
  inspection. Wow. I'm impressed.

     "I almost didn't recognize my husband's truck," Winna remarks.

     "Me too," says Jesse.

     I'm glancing at my lover for signs of sadness in him but he's running
  around the truck with glee. I was worried that he'd mind me having Tom remove
  the lumber rack and put in a new liner that would change the appearance of
  what he remembers as being his father's truck. Anything having to do with his
  dad is a touching subject with him.

     I run my hand along the unblemished paint. There were rust lines along the
  body and some denting when I'd brought it in on Monday. All gone now. Even
  the tailgate looks like new and that's where most of the damage had been.
  Jesse's dad had used this truck in construction work. It'll see gentler days
  with me behind the wheel.

     I'm hearing my name being called out from behind me. We turn to see Tom
  Grips His Tomahawk walking towards us. There's a big grin on his face. He
  seems to be limping more than usual. From Jeremy Two Ponies, I've heard the
  sad tale about his uncle getting shot in Vietnam by his own men!

     "How are you?" I ask. We shake hands.

     "I'm doing well. And so is this truck. Hello Jes-ee-ah, Winnapah..."

     The woman nods at Tom. Jesse steps closer to my side which surprises me.
  :What is it, my love?:

     :Nothing. He's done good with my father's truck.:

     My lover can still be very shy sometimes. I love that about him. "Ah, Tom.
  Please tell us what miracles you've performed."

     "Well. As you can see, I've removed the lumber rack and put in a brand new
  liner for the cargo space. New tires. Battery. The engine has been cleaned,
  tuned up and all its fluids replaced along with the oil and air filters. New
  struts. A few other miscellaneous things not worth mentioning."

     I'm Gleaning from him that those 'miscellaneous things' weren't mentioned
  on the work order so I won't be paying for them. After looking around I ask,
  "What have you done on your own?"

     "Ah. Just some body work so the truck won't look so beat up."

     "Not a new paint job!" I know that can be costly.

     "No. I just sanded down the rust spots, pulled out some dents and sponged
  them over with matching paint."

     "It looks really great!" All of us take a moment to admire his work again.
  I can tell where Tom has sponge painted but only when looking close up.

     "I'm glad that you're happy with the work," says Tom. "Now let me get the
  work order so you can get out of here."

     "Thanks again for your good work." Tom Grips His Tomahawk limps away.

     Jesse and I walk around the truck again. It's a dark red color. We both
  point out places where Tom has performed body work. Some spots that my lover
  knew were damaged hardly shows up at all and he has to point them out to me.
  I'm thinking of giving Tom two hundred dollars instead for his 'extra' work.
  Winna comes to my side.

     "I feel safer now that you and Jes-ee-ah will be riding in my husband's
  truck now that it's all fixed up. It's yours, Mike. Maybe not in name but you
  can do with it what you want."

     "Thanks." Winna still has something to say but I think she's unsure as to
  how to go about it. I'm standing silently, looking admiringly at the truck.

     "Will you get it blessed?" asks Winna.

     "You mean like from a priest?"

     "I don't know if your religion performs that ceremony for vehicles. Ah.
  You're Christian, aren't you?"

     "Yes. I'm Lutheran." What a strange turn in our conversation.

     When I look at Jesse, there's a strange glow in his eyes. I'm not Sensing
  anything from him not even his emotions. Before I can Ask him about it, Tom
  is heard coming up from behind.

     "Okay. Here's your work order. Go into the customer entrance and pay Sue.
  She'll give you the keys to your truck."

     I'm shaking hands with him again. From my pocket, I draw out two bills and
  fold them. These are handed to Tom. "Please accept my gratitude." The man
  takes the money, tucking it into his shirt pocket without seeing how much it
  was. I hope he'll think that $200 is enough.

     While paying Sue cash for Tom's work, I offer as much praise for that man
  as she can take. I'm handed the keys to my truck along with a copy of the
  work order, rubber stamped as being paid. I return to Jesse and his mom.

     Something strange is happening by my truck. Jesse is shaking his right
  hand and chanting loudly. Not in words that I can understand. I'm coming to
  stand with Winna and from her face, see surprise on it that matches how I'm
  feeling by what her son is doing. He circles around the truck another time. A
  heavy stomping comes from his feet. Ahh. It's a ritual of blessing, I realize
  after a moment. Christopher had seen this performed by Shaman Comes-the-rain.
  When raiders returned to our tribe with stolen horses from our enemies, our
  shaman would exorcise the bad medicine (ill will) from these steeds with
  shouting as Jesse is doing now for my truck. Its previous owner had been his
  dad. Is this my lover's way of exorcising what he'd done to his mom and him?

     Jes-ee-ah's chanting turns to a mere whispering. I can hear his right hand
  making a noise similar to a rattle. Does he have stones in there? He stops.
  With face uplifted, he mutters a prayer unto our Father. Winna and I join him
  with the lifting of our faces to the sky in respect.

     It is done. Jesse turns to us with Power fading from his eyes. He pockets
  what he'd been shaking around in his right hand. That familiar shy expression
  I'm often seeing from my lover returns and I know that Owopspec has left him.
  Winna glances at me uneasy.

     "I didn't know that Jes-ee-ah's grandfather has been teaching him."

     "He hasn't, not until the end of this month will Jesse's training begin."

     "Then how did he know to perform that blessing ritual?" Winna whispers.

     "His former self." The woman's eyes grow wide. I see some fear in them.
  "Shaman Charms A Bird made it possible for your son to Look inside himself
  without fear of being possessed by Shaman Good-eyes. All that man's memories
  are his to take. I've Merged with my former self so everything that he was is
  a part of me now. We think and see things as one person all the time. That's
  why the man you knew has changed. I'm no longer Mike but the Merged person,
  Short Hair."

     "And what about my son?"

     "He has not Merged with his former self. Shaman Good-eyes is content to
  stay where he is in Jes-ee-ah but at your son's bidding, comes up in him with
  wisdom and knowledge as you've just seen."

     "Does his grandfather know this?" asks Winna.

     I'm nodding. "I will tell you the vision our shaman had been given about
  Jes-ee-ah: 'When the Flower Moon comes, a boy of my choosing will blossom
  into manhood. This new one will be filled from the Old. He will walk forward
  with one foot firmly on our Mother while his other foot rises on a moon beam.
  His left hand pledged. His right hand to serve the People'."

     Winna is pondering over these words when Jesse walks up to us. I turn
  around to face the woman with him. My lover takes my right hand into his
  left hand. A Power rises in us that opens her to the truth.

     Winna covers her mouth with her hand. The shock in her fades when we
  smile. She Sees that we're much more than a loving couple but Joined in a
  force to bring a truth to the People but that is only part of what
  grandfather's vision has foreseen. She needs to know all of it.

     "This is the Flower Moon," announces Jesse. "I have attained my manhood.
  Shaman Good-eyes is who fills me from the Old and from his wisdom along with
  grandfather's training, I will become our tribe's next Inspired One."

     Jesse turns to me with longing on his face. He's squeezing my hand.

     "I am pledged to Short Hair." Lifting his right hand, Jes-ee-ah makes the
  gesture for serving others in need.

     A look of comprehension comes into Winna's eyes. She nods in acceptance
  when the full understanding to grandfather's vision finally comes upon her.
  Tears of pride and joy fills her eyes. Jesse lets go of my hand and he hugs
  his mom.

     I give them their moment together by turning to my truck. The driver's
  side door is unlocked and I'm slipping into the seat. All the surfaces have
  been wiped clean. The floor has been vacuumed. I breathe in that 'new truck'
  smell (doused from a perfume bottle, likely). The odometer is set at zero.
  I'd forgotten to look at how many miles there were on it before. Tom has gone
  beyond my wildest expectations when he fixed it up for me!

     Winna knocks on the passenger side door. I'm reaching over to unlock it
  for her and she slips in. The tears are gone from her eyes. She smiles shyly
  at me in a way that reminds me of her son.

     "I have my own blessing to offer you, Short Hair. For good luck."

     The woman reaches into her purse. She pulls out a loop of deerskin thong
  which she hangs over my rearview mirror. A wooden cross hangs down from it.
  "Thank you." My words were but a mere whisper but she's heard my heart in
  them. This is her way of acknowledging my belief in the Christ who's died on
  the cross for our sins. I'm examining it with my fingers. Of dark wood, it's
  been newly carved that makes me realize she might have done it herself.

     "It looks great, mom." :Don't you think so, love?:

     Jesse is sticking his head into my truck. "It really does, Winna. You've
  carved this yourself, haven't you?" The woman nods.

     "Mom staves the wooden hoops that form our hand drums," explains Jesse.
  "She's really good at carving, too."

     I didn't know that. "I thank you both for offering my truck your blessings
  both from Native and Christian beliefs. I honor them both." I'm gripping the
  steering wheel with joy. "It's great having 'wheels' again." That draws
  Jesse's grin.

     "Where should we go next?" asks Winna.

     "We've already done a lot today. How about lunch? I'll be seeing my lawyer
  at two."

     "Can we eat at Denny's?" Jesse asks.

     "Again?" exclaims Winna. Her tone softens. "You really like that place?"

     Jesse nods. "Or we can eat wherever you want, mom."

     Winna looks to me to make the decision. "It doesn't matter to me but I am
  pressed for time." A look at my watch revealed that we only have forty-five
  minutes to get somewhere and eat before I have to drive to Chinook.

     "Alright, Jes-ee-ah. Denny's it is."

     "I'll follow you. Winna? Drive slow if you can because I'm not that good
  with stick shifting yet. Ah, Jesse? I want you to ride with your mom." I see
  his disappointment but he doesn't argue with me about this. The two of them
  return to their truck. I fasten my seatbelt (it works!) and start the engine.
  It sounds even better than I remember. After releasing the parking brake, I
  push down on the clutch pedal, shift into reverse and step on the gas. The
  engine revs. I'm backing away from the garage when the truck stops abruptly.
  The engine dies.

     That was my fault. Going backwards with a stick shift is really hard. I
  put the stick back in neutral, restart the engine and try again. I'm turning
  around in the parking lot. When my truck is pointing towards the street,
  Winna turns left into it. I'm following her after checking for cross traffic.

     :I don't think you would have passed the road test if they'd tested you!:
  Jesse teases.

     :Give me a few days. I'll be an expert by then.:

     :If you don't strip the gears in the meantime.:

     :Wait until it's your turn to practice driving!: I warn. :I'll probably
  have to return this truck to Tom to get it fixed.:

     Jesse stops mind speaking with me. He knows that I have to concentrate.
  There are no mishaps when we reach the shopping mall. We pass Wal-Mart and
  park close to Denny's. Relief fills me when I shut the engine off.


     Jesse and I are sipping from our mugs of hot chocolate. I'd told him that
  it's like drinking liquid pudding so he's ordered one for himself. Winna sips
  her coffee. She's been very quiet after we ordered lunch. I catch her eyes
  falling on my lover when he's not looking. He's noticing, though.

     "Mom! Can you stop looking at me that way. Okay?"

     Winna acts like she doesn't know what her son is talking about.

     "Mike. Will you be returning home after meeting with your attorney or head
  straight to the meeting?"

     "I'll likely be coming back home first. It won't take us five hours to
  talk about my legal troubles, I hope."

     "You should wear your elk skin robe," suggests Jesse.

     "Alright. I will." I've a suspicion that the Elders will be asking the
  People to organize a protest on my behalf after tonight's meeting. I might as
  well look the part, worthy of their efforts. Winna glances at her son again.

     "Mom..."

     Winna releases a sigh. "I'm sorry. It's just that you've grown up on me
  all of a sudden. Not so long ago, you were my little boy."

     "I'm not little anymore, mom."

     "We will always be little boys to our mothers, Jesse. That's how I felt
  when my mom came to visit me. I was embarrassing by all her fussing and when
  she learned that I've chosen to stay here with you... Thank God! my dad
  scolded his wife to let me be. I'll remember his words for always."

     :What did he tell your mom?: Asks Jesse.

     For Winna's benefit, I speak them out loud. "My father said to my mom:
  'You have to let the boy go! He has his own life to live and we can't decide
  what that's going to be for him. He's going to do what he wants in spite of
  us.' When my father said that, I realized then that he saw me as a man."

     "What did your mother have to say to that?" asks Jesse.

     I'm sadly shaking my head. "She couldn't let go of her little boy. I think
  that even if I'd married a woman and raised a bunch of kids into adulthood,
  that wouldn't change anything."

     Jesse turns to his mom. "I'm always going to be your little boy, huh?"

     "Yes, Jes-ee-ah. That's a mother's job. I'll always make a fuss and do
  what's best for you because... I love you."

     "I love you too, mom!"

     The waitress arrives with our food. Jes and I are having club sandwiches
  with French fries and Winna has ordered chicken salad like she did that last
  time we were here. We eat in silence. I'm sipping from my large glass of milk
  between bites. Mmmm. The food is good here.

     To my pleasant surprise, Jesse has nearly finished everything on his
  plate. :At least I don't have to be fussing over you about eating more.:

     :I'm hungry!:

     Me too. Winna was right when she told me that I haven't been eating enough
  these last two weeks. Now, I seem to be hungry all the time. I'd eaten a lot
  at dinner last night and I finish everything that's on my plate now. My new
  jeans are feeling tight around my waist.

     "I'll be putting you on the title to my house, Mike." The woman smiles.
  "I thank you for what you did for us."

     "Ah, sure." I'm surprised that Winna has spoken during the meal.

     "When the deed arrives in the mail, we'll go to the tax assayer's office
  to make it legal."

     I'm nodding. The last of my milk is drunk down when a thought strikes me.
  "Winna. I'll sign a paper where only you have the authority to sell your
  house or take money out of it."

     "There's no need for that, Mike. You aren't my husband."

     I see Winna's trust in me that I'm not gonna pull a fast one on her like
  he did. Looks-from-mountain had his attorney draft the loan papers with this
  woman's signature forged on them. Mr. Flanders knew. What I'd Gleaned from
  this man was that he'd taken a bribe to skip the verification process where
  Winna could have contested her husband's 'loan' before it went through.

     I'm given the check by our waitress and we leave our booth. While I pay
  at the register, Winna and Jesse go outside. I'm digging into my pocket for
  the cash. Hmm. After paying for the truck's repair, tipping Tom and giving
  Winna money to cover that check she's written at her insurance company,
  there's hardly any cash left for emergencies. I wanted Jes to have access to
  money in case... Well. I'm not going to prison yet. I'll go to my bank again
  sometime and withdraw a few thousand to put in our bedroom. My lover really
  needs to be put on my bank account just in case something happens to me.

     Outside the restaurant, I find Winna scolding her son. Jesse is walking
  around the back of my truck. :You're getting your mom mad!: I scold in turn.
  "Please get out," I'm saying out loud for his mother's benefit.

     :I'm checking out the liner,: Answers Jesse. :A lot of kids can sit back
  here, you know.:

     Huh?

     :When we take the boys camping,: Jesse explains. :Don't you remember what
  you've told Simon? It should be an even number.:

     An even number? Oh. Jes means when the boys pair up at night so no one has
  to sleep alone. :It was only a passing fancy of mine I mentioned to Simon so
  he could find someone his age to... be with.:

     :I think it's a great idea, love. We can help other boys come to term with
  being gay by taking them camping in the reservation.:

     :Let's talk about this later. Okay?: Jesse crawls over the tailgate and
  I help bring him down to the ground in my arms resisting the urge to give a
  fond pat to his bottom. We're quickly separating. I don't want to embarrass
  Winna if people are looking at us.

     "You better be leaving for Chinook if you're to make your appointment."

     I'm looking at my watch after Winna said that. It's 1:25pm. "I'd better."
  To my surprise, Jesse offers to shake hands with me before my departure.
  We've never done that. Something is passed into my right hand and I'm looking
  down into my palm. It's a white pebble.

     :Keep this with you for luck,: Jesse explains.

     It's one of the stones my lover had been rattling around in his hand
  during his Blessing Rite over my truck. :Thanks.: I'm pocketing it. Winna
  goes to her truck and her son follows after. They don't look back.


     I'm driving east on highway two towards Chinook. This truck is powerful.
  I've dared to bring it up to eighty miles an hour to see if its engine can
  handle that speed. No problem. I'm back down to the speed limit. My earlier
  sense of freedom fades when gloom returns to my heart. Mr. Talbert and I will
  be discussing that indictment against me. It's serious. The grand jury has
  found me guilty of 'attempted murder of a police officer' so what my lawyer
  will be telling me today is how many years I'll be serving in prison.

     Tears fills my eyes. My life seems so twisted! On one hand, Jes and I have
  made great strides in our relationship that others are coming to accept. His
  mom does. She's the most important person in our lives and that's why I've
  paid off her house. At least Jesse and his mom will have a place to live. My
  legal woes are a blight on our happiness. Things just keep getting worse!

     I slow down to fifty miles an hour since I'm in no hurry to hear my fate
  from Mr. Talbert. The exit for Chinook arrives all too soon. Dread fills me.


     "Just tell me, okay?" I'm sitting in Mr. Talbert's consulting room in his
  house. We've been exchanging small talk when I couldn't keep my dread bottled
  up inside any longer. I'd asked him how many years I'll be serving in prison.
  He dismissed that out of hand so I demanded that he tell me.

     "I'm afraid you don't understand, Mike. The grand jury has only heard
  evidence brought against you by Mr. Benton. Any good prosecutor could get a
  bumblebee indicted for breaking the sound barrier or convince the grand jury
  that the Earth is flat. You haven't been found guilty of the crime, only that
  there's sufficient evidence for an indictment which is a stronger charge than
  assault first brought against you. In court, your defense will be that you
  had acted to prevent Lt. Danielson from shooting your friend and that you
  were both in fear of your lives from that corrupt police officer."

     "Oh." That gives me a little relief but not for long. "Mr. Talbert? It's
  true that I tripped Danielson off the porch when he came running out Winna's
  house because I thought he was gonna shoot Jesse."

     "That's how he suffered a broken hip," says Mr. Talbert.

     "Yeah." I'm swallowing nervously in my throat. My lips squeeze together.

     "Mike. You can tell me anything and it won't be repeated outside this
  room. We're protected by the client/attorney privilege."

     "Okay. The reason why I think I'm going to jail is because I'd struck
  Danielson after he was down. Again and again. I was so angry at that man
  'cause he was gonna shoot Jesse! That's how he suffered a concussion. Then
  I removed his boots and hog tied him with its strings. He could have died
  from his injuries on that cold ground like they said."

     Mr. Talbert shakes his head. "That was likely the thrust of Mr. Benton's
  argument to the grand jury and how he'll portray you at your trial."

     "How many years will I be serving in prison?" I'm asking with dread.

     "Mike. You won't be found guilty of that charge," assures Mr. Talbert.

     "You don't know that for sure. Just tell me, okay?" The man releases his
  breath in a huff.

     "8-12 years. There weren't any special circumstances like a weapon being
  involved so if you're found guilty, it'll be closer to eight."

     I'm looking down at my hands. They'd almost been as deadly as a gun.
  Danielson had died in the hospital because his injuries prevented him from
  defending himself against Eli Kie's blade thrust into his throat. I know that
  his brother blames me as if I were the actual murderer.

     "I have to inform you that Mr. Benton has offered us a plea bargain."

     I'm nodding at my lawyer to tell me.

     "If you plead guilty, he's offering you ten years at a minimum security
  facility. That's easier time than if you had to serve in a maximum security
  prison where real murderers and rapists are sent."

     I'm bowing my head. That's right in the middle of 8-12 years for this
  charge and I'd served them in a place that's not a hard core prison. I don't
  want to get raped in such a place! Or worse.

     "Mike. I'm advising you not to accept their plea bargain. Ten years? Hah!
  Not even if it were only three years probation would I'd ask you to consider
  it. A felony conviction will follow you around for the rest of your life. You
  wouldn't be allowed to vote because of it, bear arms and any employment you
  were to seek would likely knock you out of consideration for the position
  unless it were a job to fill planes with luggage. Let's fight this in court.
  Even if the jury were unbelievably to find you guilty by ignoring all the
  evidence that Danielson was a dirty cop, that he had entered Mrs. Winnapah's
  house illegally to take things from your laptop bag that he feared proved his
  association with Miss Thomas, that he was in league with Eli Kie and both of
  them tried stealing the Blackfoot Tribe's Power Bundle from Jesse and most
  importantly of all, that you were simply defending your friend from getting
  shot, they may only have you serve the minimal sentence. That's less than
  what the prosecutor is offering you now. It's a really bad deal!"

     "Yeah. But I'm facing hard time," I'm reminding Mr. Talbert.

     The man shakes his head. "Not necessarily. It'll be up to the judge to
  determine where you'd serve it and he may reduce the actual time you're in
  prison with probation because of the mitigating circumstances. You've never
  been in trouble with the law before, Mike. No priors."

     I'm feeling a little more hopeful. "You met with Mr. Benton or did he make
  that offer to you on the phone?"

     "At the Discovery meeting."

     "What's that?"

     "The prosecutor had to show me what evidence he has against you and I had
  to show him what I'll be presenting at your trial in defense."

     "What does he have on me?" I ask.

     "Those statements from Officer Eli Kie and Lt. Danielson which are all
  lies!" exclaims Mr. Talbert.

     "What did you have to show him?"

     "All of the statements from Jesse, yourself, Mrs. Winnapah, Mr. Augusten,
  Officer Hawk-swooping-down and so on. I also showed Mr. Benton that Lt. Scott
  Danielson's daily log failed to note that he had met with you when he took
  Ron's diary from you."

     "Did he ask you about the diary zerox I have?"

     "Yes, he did. Mr. Benton wanted to know if I'll be using it in your
  defense. I acted like I didn't know what he was talking about." Mr. Talbert
  smiles but only for a moment. "Mike. Have you translated anything so far that
  ties Scott Danielson with Miss Thomas or to Eli Kie?"

     I'm shaking my head. "Actually, I haven't had time to work on it." That
  draws a scowl from my lawyer. "Ron's handwriting is difficult to make out.
  And he started to code his entries, especially those near the time he was
  murdered. The reason I'd been studying that man's diary was to learn where
  he'd hidden the tribe's Power Bundle. Jes and I have found it. I'm doubting
  that Ron has written anything that can help you defend me in court." What I
  fear most is if anyone learns that Ron had been having sex with Jesse. That
  would bring shame upon him and his mother that I must avoid at all costs! We
  need to change the subject. "What can you tell me about Captain Ruston? Why
  is he being made to take the fall by the D.A.?" Mr. Talbert's face takes on
  an angry expression.

     "It's certainly a strange twist of events! Bill himself went to Internal
  Affairs Wednesday afternoon to inform them of wrong doing at the station.
  Officer Weston had told him that he was ordered by Lt. John Danielson to put
  you in that padded cell and that the video surveillance tape documenting your
  guard's taunting had been 'lost'. These incidents were given to Internal
  Affairs to investigate along with the theft of the Blackfoot Tribe's Power
  Bundle from their evidence room.

     "A few hours later, Bill is informed that he's being put on administrative
  leave pending the outcome of their investigation that he had initiated with
  them! My friend and I believe that John had spoken with the D.A. after
  getting wind of the charges of misconduct against him with Internal Affairs.
  He probably told Mr. Benton that Captain Ruston was sharing information with
  us which isn't proper conduct of a police chief."

     "But that's how they learned Eli Kie was at the root of all this trouble!
  I clued in Detective Peterson about him. He saw for himself that Eli Kie was
  in the hospital that night Scott Danielson was murdered by reviewing their
  security tapes. Photographs our P.I. took outside of Miss Thomas' house show
  he murdered her before burning it down to the ground. We were cooperating
  with the police in their investigation into those murders. They just told us
  what evidence they were collecting on him. That's all."

     "I'm sure John painted a more sinister picture of Capt. Ruston to the D.A.
  It's known that we're good friends. How that must have galled John when the
  police chief was turning his efforts towards finding Eli Kie instead of
  investigating you. As to why the city council named him interim chief is
  beyond me! John was already too involved in these events to be an impeachable
  candidate for this office. It was also reported to Internal Affairs that he'd
  taken you in for questioning without your attorney present. That alone should
  have voided John from consideration."

     "It must have been a political move," I offer in explanation. "Both the
  D.A. and Lt. John Danielson are out for my blood. They saw Captain Ruston as
  interfering with their case against me and got him out of the way."

     "I think you're right, Mike."

     An uneasy silence passes. We're both trying to cool our tempers at the
  injustice of it all. A good man has been taken from a position where he could
  help keep the peace in this community and replaced with a man whose only
  concern is to avenge his brother's murder. I'm shaking my head in disbelief.
  Why isn't John Danielson going after Eli Kie instead of me?

     "Mike. You have a court date this Monday at 9am."

     "What!" I'm gasping. "So soon?" Fear grips my heart that I'll be taken
  from Jesse even before we've had the chance to marry. I was afraid of this.
  That's why I told grandfather that we needed to wait until this trouble of
  mine blows away before setting the date.

     "Nothing much is going to happen then," assures Mr. Talbert. "I'm going to
  present several motions to the judge that will delay the proceedings."

     "Like what?"

     "A pretrial diversion concerning the violation of your civil rights for
  one thing. If I can convince the judge that there's enough evidence of this,
  he'll hold a Hearing. Mike. It was wrong of John Danielson to have you placed
  in that padded cell without good cause and you were taunted by your guard.
  Danielson also broke your civil rights by having you brought to the station
  for questioning without legal representation. That, along with the incident
  of those five Havre police officers entering Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains'
  house without a warrant goes towards their unbridled disregard to follow the
  law. As I've told you on the phone, the Blackfoot Nation isn't without
  political might in this part of Montana. At the very least, John Danielson's
  involvement in all this will come out and he'll be removed as police chief.
  If it's ruled that your civil rights were violated, all charges against you
  will be dropped."

     "Really! You mean it may not even go to trial?"

     "That's my great hope. But if that should fail, my other motion before the
  judge will ask for a continuance. Time for you to find a trial attorney more
  suitable to defend you than I can."

     "But you aren't a bad attorney!" Mr. Talbert raises his hand to stop my
  objection and he smiles like a fox.

     "Mike. The D.A.'s case against you is serious and more time is needed to
  form a proper defense. I'll inform the judge that I haven't tried this kind
  of case in a long time. It's true. I've been in semiretirement these past
  four years. I have represented members of the Blackfoot such as Running Water
  who faced minor charges like that D.U.I. but nothing like what you're facing.
  The judge will grant my motion. The D.A. won't contest it because there can't
  be any sense of imposition that you were denied proper representation. That
  can be the basis of a mistrial or for your appeal after a guilty verdict."

     "Okay. I understand." A concern comes to me. "You'll still be involved in
  my case, won't you?"

     "Of course. You didn't do anything wrong, Mike. Neither has Bill. I want
  both of you to be exonerated by helping to bring that truth to light."

     Funny how Mr. Talbert said that. Jesse and I are going to bring a truth
  to the People so they can return to the path of Light our Father has set down
  before them. It's more than gaining acceptance in the community about being
  gay. Evil men and their deeds are revealed in the Light. I'd seen this happen
  today with Mr. Flanders when he yielded to our Power.

     "...at the meeting tonight to hear the D.A.'s apology to the Blackfoot."

     I'm nodding after coming out of my deep thoughts. Mr. Talbert scrutinizes
  me and I realize he wants to know if I know the content of their letter.
  "It doesn't say very much," I offer.

     "I expected as much. For all our efforts by presenting those statements
  to the D.A., they only chose to respond to the Elders' complaint about the
  loss of their Power Bundle entrusted with the Havre Police. I wouldn't be
  surprised that the D.A.'s statement to be released tomorrow will cast that
  blame on Captain Ruston."

     I'm shaking my head in dismay along with Mr. Talbert. "Their letter goes
  on to say that other failings in the police department are being addressed.
  Again, no mention as to what those were but I suspect it's their treatment of
  me when in their custody."

     "Legal double talk!" barks Mr. Talbert. "They're hoping that an apology
  will appease the Blackfoot's anger by having them think their letter says
  things it doesn't. It's probably so vague that we cannot use it to help in
  your case, Mike. I've watched Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn's interview on T.V.
  That was his impression of the D.A.'s apology. By the way, I'm glad that you
  didn't come out to say anything to that reporter."

     "I was too busy cowering in the hall behind the Elder." I've said that in
  a sarcastic tone.

     "He explained how you and Jesse have suffered at the hands of the police.
  It was the right thing for him to say. Ah. Do you know if the People are
  planning to demonstrate after the meeting tonight?"

     "I don't know. Their anger after tonight will have to be vented somehow.
  It's better released through picketing in protests than in open warfare."

     "Yes. Let's hope it doesn't come to that," says Mr. Talbert. "Bill has
  always worked to keep the peace in this town. Now that he's gone..."

     I catch his drift. A cold shudder runs through me and I need to ask my
  lawyer again what I've asked him on the phone. "Will Lt. Danielson have Jes
  brought in for questioning? Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn doesn't think so."

     "It would be very stupid of them if they tried. That would surely bring
  about war. Oh. The Elder called this morning to inform me that he's sending a
  statement to the D.A. warning them not to questioning 'his client'. All that
  Jesse has to say on the matter can be read in his signed statements we'd
  given them on Monday. I'm making copies for Quiet-before-the-dawn of all our
  statements. His intent is to distribute them to reporters after the meeting.
  I agree that should be done. The D.A.'s office has chosen to ignore them but
  when there's a public outcry and reporters clamoring them with questions..."

     "Yeah. They had their chance at peace."

     Mr. Talbert claps his hands. It's an interesting gesture to see in a white
  man because that's a Blackfoot way to announce the end of a long meeting. I'm
  looking at my watch. We've only talked for a little over an hour. I reach
  into my pocket and bring out my rental agreement he's asked me to bring.

     "Ah, yes. I'll look this over for you, Mike. I suspect that Mr. Cavallero
  wants to stick you with paying another month's rent and use your security
  deposit to pay for that mess in your trailer."

     I remember seeing holes in the walls, carpet pulled up and the remains of
  my broken furniture scattered about the living room. That 'Agreement' my
  manager wants me to sign before getting back my stuff from him was drafted to
  protect his ass. In it, he claims that my belongings were put into storage
  after I had apparently 'abandoned' my trailer, not through theft. Hah!

     "I'll see you tonight at the meeting," says Mr. Talbert. "Please refrain
  from making any statements to reporters, Mike. Don't tell anyone what we've
  been discussing here today, especially what Bill has told me about reporting
  John Danielson to Internal Affairs."

     "I promise." Of course, that doesn't include Jesse since we don't keep
  secrets from each other. At least not on my part. I suspect Charms A Bird has
  made him swear an oath about something. I've Felt this in my lover after he
  unburdened himself by telling me that he'll allow his former self to come up
  in him should that Omaha Shaman fail to stop Eli Kie from his evil deed in
  the woods. What else Jes is keeping from me, I don't know. It's likely a
  shaman concern between them that's none of my business.

     Mr. Talbert is showing me to his door when his telephone rings. I Glean
  that he was expecting this important call so I leave his home in a rush so he
  can answer it. The door is heard being locked behind me. I walk to my truck.
  I'm still in awe of how nice it looks. Tom Grips His Tomahawk has done great
  body work on it. It's a vehicle I'll be proud to drive our tribe's next
  shaman around in. If I'm given the chance. I circle around the dark red truck
  like a warrior who's examining a new horse that's come to him. Pride fills me
  along with a renewed sense of freedom. I won't be missing my motorcycle. It
  was always needing to get repaired and riding it had been breezy and cold!

     The engine starts and I'm about to put it in gear. Tom has also worked on
  the truck beyond making it look handsome. I can be assured that this will be
  a reliable vehicle to drive so long as I don't let it run out of gas! I'll be
  checking on how much it guzzles. That'll be a sure sign of its engine wear.
  This is an old truck on the inside, I'm reminding myself. Tom has done what
  he could for it so I shouldn't be too disappointed at my next fill up.

     I'm driving through Chinook with care. My stick shifting is improving and
  I know that before long, it'll come as second nature to me. I get onto route
  two towards Havre. There's not much traffic on the road. A quick glance at my
  watch shows why. People won't be getting off from work for another hour and a
  half. I'll bet that even then, there won't be traffic congestion like I've
  had to endure back in Indianapolis. This is horse and cattle country.


     Twenty minutes later, I'm entering Havre. My new hometown. I've transferred
  my money here from Indiana, changed over my driver's license and own half of
  a house where I'm staying with my lover. What more could a guy ask for? Hmm.
  How about an end to all my legal woes? Then Jes and I can concentrate on
  other things like getting married, helping others who are gay like Simon to
  come to terms with who they are and I'll find my own place in the tribe. Ron
  was helping the Blackfoot with recovering sacred belongings and the remains
  of their ancestors for a proper burial as well as negotiating oil and mineral
  rights on their land with the U.S. Government. What can I do for them?

     I've helped bring Jesse out of himself. Now, he can undergo training as
  shaman to follow in his grandfather's footsteps after he's gone. I'll be at
  his side all the time. What are people gonna say about that? Whisperings
  behind their hands that I'm 'that gay white guy' being with Jes-ee-ah? I see
  a hard road ahead for both of us.

     After driving through the heart of town for ten minutes, I turn onto
  Winding Creek Road and pass my trailer park. A deep sigh comes out of me. I'm
  passing a bunch of houses and see a white jeep parked at the curb in front of
  the house. That must be One-white-horse. Winna's brown Ford is parked in the
  driveway and after considering the matter, I decide to park on the street.
  Winna can drive us to the meeting tonight.

     To my relief, One-white-horse doesn't get out of his jeep to greet me. I'm
  feeling tired after today's goings on. We've gotten a lot accomplished. I
  hope Winna isn't preparing a meal because I'm not that hungry. Butterflies
  are dancing in my stomach. It's gonna be a big meeting tonight so I'd rather
  just relax for a few hours before we attend it.

     I'm walking up the sidewalk and step onto the porch. I stop myself from
  knocking when an idea comes to me. There's a house key on my chain. Will it
  unlock the door? It does. This is where I'll be living from now on so there's
  no need to bring Winna or Jesse to answer the door for me like I'm a guest.

     After making use of the bathroom, I wander through the front room, dining
  room and there's no one in the kitchen either. I'm Calling out, :Where are
  you, my love?: No Answer. I'm Sensing that Jesse is fast asleep.

     I enter our bedroom and find my sleeping prince sprawled over the bed.
  He's still in his clothes. I'm admiring him for a moment before I'll slip
  into bed. His arms are so brown looking. A thin body. Long black hair spills
  down his pillow like a waterfall with an eagle's feather half sunk in its
  depths. My eyes wander down his back. He has a brown shirt on with the ends
  still tucked into his jeans. I'm looking lower on him. His little butt sticks
  out nicely from the seat of his pants. I resist the urge to... well. With
  care not to disturb Jesse from his sleep, I get into bed and lay down beside
  him. I'm opening myself to my lover and draw on him to fall asleep myself.


     A knock at our door awakens us. I'm looking over at Jesse who smiles
  shyly back. His face looks very brown in the fading light coming through our
  window. And what dark eyes. Love bursts in me when he leans over to give me a
  kiss. Our arms are rushing around each other when another knock is heard on
  our bedroom door. More insistent this time.

     "We're up, mom!" Jesse shouts.

     I'm sitting up in bed. A yawn springs from my mouth. Jes demands to have
  that kiss his mother interrupted and I happily oblige him. We're hugging for
  a long moment afterwards. :Oh, Jesse!: I'm feeling the urge to get out of
  our clothes for some loving.

     "We have to get up, love." He giggles.

     I release a tense sigh. "Yeah. We'd better." Since we're already dressed,
  we soon leaving our room to join Winna in the kitchen. Hmm. No food is being
  prepared. She hasn't awaken us to eat. Then it hits me. Tonight's meeting.
  I'm looking up at the clock and see that it's not even six o'clock.

     "Are you hungry?" asks Winna.

     Both Jes and I are shaking our heads. The woman nods.

     "I've napped later than I intended. If you want Jes-ee-ah, have a pudding
  cup before we leave. Would you like one, Mike?"

     My lover eagerly goes to the kitchen cabinet to fetch two cups. Who can
  say no to chocolate pudding? I'm getting the spoons. Winna stands quietly by
  the kitchen table and watches us enjoy them. She's wearing the clothes she
  wore during our outing. A heavy turquoise necklace hangs down from her neck
  that I've never seen the woman wear before.

     We quickly finish our pudding. After tossing the empty cups into the
  trash, I'm rinsing our spoons and set them in the dish rack.

     "Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn asked that we arrive at the community center
  at six. We better leave now."

     I realize that we're gonna be a little late. Why does he want us to come
  an hour before the meeting? Winna is already walking down the hall so we
  chase after her. We put on our shoes by the door. Jes pulls my elk skin robe
  off the rack and he helps me put it on. I'll look like half an Indian.

     "Here's a key to the house," Winna offers.

     "I already have one. There was a house key on your husband's key ring."

     "Mike. Keep this one on you and hang your truck's keys on the peg there
  (pointing to a wooden shelf near the door). That way, if I need to move your
  pickup from the driveway to free my truck, I'll be able to. It was a system
  that worked well with my husband."

     "I can just park on the street."

     "If you want. But by keeping your keys on that peg, I'll know that your
  truck is parked outside."

     "Sure, Winna." I'm taking the truck's keys from my pocket and hang it on
  the peg with her approving gaze. Hmm. It's also a way Winna can tell if I'm
  home unless someone is driving me somewhere. Running Water comes to mind.

     When we're leaving the house, I'm startled by the array of trucks parked
  along the street that start honking when we make our way to Winna's truck.
  Some I recognize. Running Water's red pickup, Hawk Flying Over's brown jeep
  and One-white-horse's jeep that's still parked on the curb where I'd seen it
  earlier. The other three trucks are not known to me. What a noise!

     "Our honor escort," Jesse explains. He lifts his right hand in a fist.
  Their honking stops. We're getting into our truck while I'm left with a sense
  of awe. The power I'd felt in my lover a moment ago to silence them! Wow.


     Winna is directed to a parking spot reserved for her close to the Chinook
  Community Center's side entrance. It's a madhouse here! News vans are parked
  in the lot along with trucks from people who've come early to the meeting. I
  spotted Rides-a-fiery-horse's red sports car in the parking lot. He's an
  Elder who didn't wear fancy regalia at the council meeting in Browning.

     We're rushed to the side entrance by two Guardians. I don't know if that's
  what they're called in this day and age. Chris had witnessed the giving of
  honor shirts to those men in good standing of their tribe who were charged
  with keeping the peace. Sorta like policemen. The Blackfoot had called these
  men Guardians and that's what the man escorting us through the hall looks
  like. Yup. I see that he's wearing a painted shirt like of old and sporting
  two eagle feathers in his long hair. How grim he looks.

     "The Elder asks that you wait in this room," asks the Guardian.

     "Very well," Jesse answers in Siksika.

     We enter the room where I first met grandfather. Even before the door is
  closed behind us, Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn motions us to him. He's kneeled
  on the floor surrounded by stacks of papers.

     "Can you put together the press kits for me?" the Elder asks.

     Jes and I join him on the floor. Quiet-before-the-dawn explains that one
  copy of all our statements given to the D.A. on Monday go into each folder.
  The 'apology' letter should front them after a cover page. When we continue
  this task for the Elder, he quickly leaves the room. I'm looking over the
  cover page. It lists the names of all the Blackfoot Chiefs and Elders (likely
  to avoid the press from misspelling them like what had happened yesterday by
  reporter Ms. Bray).

     :Is there a particular order that our statements should be put in?: Asks
  Jesse.

     :I don't think so. Just make sure that the D.A.'s apology letter is on top
  following the cover page.: Jesse nods. I'm noticing that Mr. Augusten's
  statement to the police has also been copied. In the next ten minutes, we put
  together fifty folders to add to what Quiet-before-the-dawn has assembled.
  There's a loud knock on our door. No one comes in. Jesse gathers up the
  completed press kits in his arms. I'm grabbing my stack and stand ready.
  Another knock.

     I'm cautiously answering the door. An old man is standing outside dressed
  in Indian finery. For a moment, I didn't recognize grandfather! He's wearing
  a finely painted medicine robe, leggings over his tan pants and covering his
  feet are quill moccasins. A proud headdress of eagle's feathers flows down
  from his head.

     "Short Hair. The tribal council has come to a decision concerning you,"
  grandfather announces in a stern voice.

     That's when I see the line of Blackfoot Chiefs and Elders standing along
  the wall dressed in impressive regalia. All except for Rides-a-fiery-horse.
  Grandfather gestures that I hand my folders over to Jesse. I'm doing so. He
  leads me slowly down the hall where each man briefly grasps my right shoulder.
  I turn to look upon their faces each time. They smile grimly at me. Ah! Chris
  has seen this before. These council members are offering their support for me
  but to what, I've not been told. After Chief Shoots-rifle-at-moose grasps my
  shoulder, I turn from this man and find Running Water standing before me.
  He's dressed in regular clothes but he's filled with purpose. I see that in
  his eyes.

     "My brother. Stand and allow me to paint up your face."

     I'm nodding to him. Running Water lifts a lump of coal in his right hand
  and darkens my face with it. What's this for? Black is a sign for mourning a
  person bears on their face when losing a loved one or a family member. At his
  gesture, I turn around to be presented. The shaman explains what's going on.

     "You have suffered wrongly at the hands of others. The tribal council
  stands with you to defend your honor and will take whatever action is deemed
  necessary to regain your good name in the eyes of the People. Do you accept
  our support?"

     In old Siksika: "Verily I do, Inspired One. My heart has been gravely
  hurt by their accusations but I find comfort that you stand with me." All the
  tribal leaders pound their chests. I'm concerned that they've decided to go
  to war! "Not through revenge do I seek redemption to my good name. No
  violence, I beg you!"

     "That is not our wish either, Short Hair. Through truth, the eyes of all
  People will be opened. You've been falsely accused by the district attorney."

     Relief fills me. In the old days, friends of a wronged man would go on the
  warpath to avenge him after seeking their council's blessings. They scarred
  their bodies with long cuts along their legs and wore gruesome face paint.
  Vows were taken that none would return to the tribe until those responsible
  had been made to pay in blood. What I'm witnessing here is a mixing of old
  and new traditions.

     The chiefs and Elders walk past me in grim silence towards the auditorium.
  When the door is closed behind them, grandfather staggers against the wall.
  Jesse is quick to support the old man before he falls.

     "You are in pain!" gasps Jesse.

     "That comes from a worn out body, grandson. I'm getting too old for this."

     The old man is set on the floor. Running Water runs down the hall to get
  help. I'm kneeling with my lover before our grandfather. He waves his hand in
  denial of our concern for him and puts on a feigned grin.

     "I'll be alright in a moment."

     Jesse and I exchange glances. :Ever since he's returned from Great Falls,
  grandfather has not been the same! I'd thought it was the long drive or not
  eating enough or something. Is he ill do you know, my love?:

     :I think he took the portent of his death to heart more strongly than he's
  let on,: Jesse Answers.

     :What portent?: Jes gives me a quick mind burst. That wolf we'd found on
  the highway! It's grandfather's animal guide. This man is feeling lost and
  without its spiritual protection that he's had for most of his life.

     Running Water is heard running down the hall towards us. He offers a cup
  of water to grandfather who greedily drinks it down. Why didn't he get help?

     "Thank you," mutters grandfather. "Give me a moment and... I'll be able to
  return to my feet. Jes-ee-ah? Honor me with your presence to the auditorium.
  Not too conspicuously, if you will."

     "Yes, grandfather."

     :We shouldn't let him, Jes!: My lover shakes his head.

     :He'd rather fall dead than be shamed in front of the other Elders,:
  Answers Jesse. :He must speak tonight to the People.:

     I understand but I'm not liking it. This old man needs Jesse's help to
  walk but he doesn't want the other council members or the People to see how
  weak he's become. Running Water and I exchange knowing glances. We won't
  speak of this to anyone. How it grieves me to know that our shaman is sick
  at heart!


     The auditorium is packed with hundreds of people filling all the seats,
  standing along the sides and in back of this large room. It's very noisy.
  There's the roar of people talking, coughing, and the occasional chair
  scraping against the floor. Video cameras are positioned on tripods in the
  center aisle manned by cameramen but reporters are notably absent from them.
  I'm sitting in the front right row with Winna and Jesse. All the Blackfoot
  Chiefs and Elders have taken their seats in the front left row. In a lone
  chair behind the podium and to the left sits grandfather. I've caught sight
  of Mr. Talbert sitting in the row behind us with his friend. A white man whom
  I don't recognize though I suspect who he is.

     Jesse and I exchange excited glances. He's been to meetings before and
  this is only my second in Chinook but this night, there's expected to be some
  real fireworks. It'll be videotaped for folks to watch on T.V. later tonight.

     Quiet-before-the-dawn takes the podium. The auditorium grows deathly quiet
  when he brings the meeting to order.

     "I call all the People of the Blackfoot to attend to my words. To our
  guests, I ask that you refrain from asking questions during our meeting or to
  interview anyone inside the auditorium. Press kits will be distributed to you
  afterwards." The Elder turns to his shaman so that he can speak the blessing.

     All eyes are on grandfather. He stands up stiffly but manages to keep on
  his feet. The People rise up from their chairs with faces lifted when their
  shaman utters his plea unto our Father. A familiar prayer that Christopher
  had heard in his day. Everyone returns to their chairs afterwards.

     Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn comes to stand before the podium. He speaks.
  "The district attorney's office has sent this letter to me yesterday which is
  addressed to the Blackfoot Nation. I will now read it." He pulls out a piece
  of paper from his vest pocket and sets it down on the podium. His face is
  very grim.

     The following silence could be cut with a knife. I'm already aware of the
  letter's contents but everyone else is waiting with bated breath to hear the
  Elder read it to them. I'm both excited and dreading how the People will
  react to it.

     "To the Blackfoot People. We in humility must inform you that the sacred
  bundle surrendered to the Havre Police by Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains
  appears to have been misplaced. The whole station is being turned upside-down
  to find it." The Elder pauses when cries erupt in the auditorium. He holds up
  his hand for silence before he continues.

     "Internal Affairs is investigating this matter and we promise punitive
  action will be taken against those responsible. Other failings at the police
  department are also being addressed. We offer our most sincerest apology to
  the Blackfoot People and promise that swift action will be taken on your
  behalf and all citizens of Havre. Be at peace." The Elder lifts the D.A.'s
  apology letter in his hand when angry shouts erupt in the auditorium. He's
  unable to silence them this time. To my surprise, Quiet-before-the-dawn lets
  the piece of paper fall to the floor. He doesn't even attempt to retrieve it.

     When Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains gets up from his chair, the People
  grow silent. The Elder gives up his place at the podium to him. He takes his
  turn to speak to the People in Siksika.

     "You have heard the district attorney's words. I too am dismayed by what
  they say, or rather, what they don't say. It doesn't name who has taken our
  tribe's Power Bundle entrusted with the police or even admit that it is
  indeed lost."

     Grandfather sadly shakes his head after saying that. He quickly continues
  to prevent outbursts from the audience and his voice is surprisingly strong.

     "What are these other failings at the police department that the D.A.'s
  letter mentions, I ask you? Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn went to their office
  yesterday in the hope of finding out. He was denied a meeting. This also
  proved so when a meeting had been arranged with the head man at the D.A. to
  speak about our grievances on Monday. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn, Chief
  Shoots-rifle-at-moose, Mr. Talbert and myself were sent away by his secretary
  with the explanation that her boss was 'too busy' to speak with us. We'd come
  with signed statements to present Mr. Ralston. They had to be left with his
  secretary instead. Is this what prompted his letter to the Blackfoot? An
  apology that is like all others given to our People in the past! We remember
  all too well the broken treaties by white men do we not?"

     Angry voices erupt from the audience. Grandfather lifts his right hand in
  a peace gesture. The auditorium grows silent. I'm turning to Jesse with awe
  at this demonstration of our shaman's influence over the People. They are
  eager to hear what he intends to do about this insult.

     "After this meeting, copies of those statements we've given to the D.A.'s
  secretary will be made available to those who want them. They contain our
  grievances and the sworn truth of what our good friend, Mike Yager and my
  grandson, Jes-ee-ah have suffered at the hands of certain police officers."

     Grandfather is gripping both sides of the podium to prevent himself from
  falling. Jesse and I realize this but the People probably think he does this
  from anger. My lover is ready to spring to his aid should he fall.

     "A man who is come to our meeting asks to address the Blackfoot People.
  He's the former police chief of the Havre Police department..."

     Loud boos come from the audience, drowning out what their shaman was about
  to say. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn springs up from his chair to yell them
  down. When it grows quiet in the auditorium, he speaks.

     "Let us hear what this man has to say!" the Elder demands. "It does our
  shaman a dishonor for you to give voice to your angry hearts over his words
  spoken in wisdom."

     There are gasps of surprise when the People see how upset their shaman has
  become by their outbursts when he must be helped to sit in his chair by the
  Elder. Jesse is beside himself with fear for his grandfather. We know that
  he's not feeling well. I'm grasping my lover's right knee to silently ask him
  to keep his seat.

     At the Elder's gesture, a man leaves his chair behind us and makes his way
  to the front of the stage. It's the white man I'd seen sitting next to my
  attorney earlier. He must be Captain Ruston. No police uniform is worn; only
  good clothes. When he stands before the podium, I can feel the suppressed
  excitement and anger of those in the auditorium that threatens to erupt.

     "I am Bill Ruston," he begins. "I've come to you this evening not to offer
  my apology." Dead silence answers his bold words. "What I do offer you is the
  truth that should be known about what's happened at the police station. It
  concerns your Power Bundle, Mike Yager and the unforgivable actions of those
  under my leadership."

     I want to hear what this man has to say! So does everyone else in the
  audience and the video cameras are rolling.

     "There is a dispute as to whom the Power Bundle belongs to," says Bill
  Ruston. He's holding up his hand when the audience begins to grumble. The man
  continues in a louder voice.

     "After Officer Eli Kie tried recovering 'his property' from Jesse, he
  made a statement at the police station of his version of what had taken
  place. Collaborating photographs of his alleged property were also submitted.
  Eli Kie is Native American so it would not be illegal for him to possess so
  sacred an object of your People. A witness named Mr. Augusten who lives in a
  trailer set near Mike Yager's also made a statement of what he'd seen Officer
  Eli Kie do that day. This witness saw Eli Kie try taking the Power Bundle by
  force when he punched Jesse in the face and he pulled his gun on Mike Yager
  who was coming out of his trailer to help his friend. Mr. Augusten had his
  wife call the Havre Police. He held a rifle on Eli Kie, demanding that he
  drop his gun pointed at Mike Yager. Eli Kie would not, only then declaring
  that he was a police officer. That's when Officer Hawk-swooping-down of the
  Chinook Police force arrived on the scene and took Eli Kie into custody."
  Bill smiles. "I would mention that Mr. Augusten's rifle wasn't even loaded.

     "There is obviously a contradiction between Officer Eli Kie's statement
  and Mr. Augusten's. Who to believe, then? I speak as one who knows police
  procedures. It was improper for Officer Eli Kie to confront Mike Yager and
  Jesse to recover his alleged property himself; he should have asked for the
  assistance of my officers should he not? Mr. Augusten had nothing to gain
  when he'd given his account of what happened and I believe it is the truth.
  He had acted with bravery to defend his neighbor against an unidentified man
  he'd seen snooping around Mike's trailer earlier."

     If Captain Ruston believes our accounts, why doesn't the D.A. drop those
  charges against me? There's proof that Eli Kie had lied in his statement to
  the police accusing me of theft of his supposed property, that I resisted
  arrest (he was the one holding the gun on me!) and my flight from arrest
  (Officer Hawk-swooping-down told Jes and I to leave the scene).

     "What I've told you is only my opinion. The district attorney obviously,
  doesn't hold me in high regard at the moment." Bill laughs a little.

     I can tell that Captain Ruston is trying to hide his anger and sadness for
  being put on administrative leave. Someone shouts in the audience.

     "The D.A. doesn't give a shit about us either!"

     Other people vent their frustration. I hear a shout of 'police brutality',
  accusations of 'theft' and 'liars' directed at both the D.A. and Officer John
  Danielson until the whole auditorium is in an uproar. Jesse is frightened.
  I remain as a stone in my chair, resisting the temptation to give my lover an
  assuring hug because that could bring us unwanted attention. I'm Calling out,
  :Don't be scared, Jes. I'm here for you!: My right arm is touched.

     :I know,: Answers Jesse.

     Our eyes meet. I'm flinching when a man shouts out loudly from behind us.
  My attention turns to the news cameras panning around at the anger being
  displayed in the audience. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn is heard asking the
  People to calm down. Both his arms are raised in a frantic peace gesture.
  Grandfather remains sitting in his chair, head bowed.

     Calm eventually returns to the auditorium. The Elder asks Captain Ruston
  to continue but in his eyes, I'd read the unspoken warning for Bill to be
  careful with what he has to say.

     "How did the Power Bundle end up missing from the evidence room?" he asks.
  "I personally signed for its entry into that locked room after your shaman
  placed it in my hands. The log book shows that no one has signed it out. Yet
  it is missing. So too is the video surveillance tape of Mike's incarceration
  in that cell where he claims a guard had taunted him. Officer Weston was
  ordered to place him in that padded cell. Only inmates who exhibit signs of
  suicide or violence are supposed to be put in there. Lt. John Danielson
  explained to reporters that it was done for Mr. Yager's 'safety while a large
  group of Blackfoot were protesting outside.' That doesn't make sense to me.
  They were there to show support for Mike so who was he being protected from?
  What John didn't reveal during his interview was that it was he himself who
  gave that order to Officer Weston. He also ordered officers to bring Mike in
  for questioning and conducted the interrogation himself concerning his
  brother's murder without Mr. Yager's attorney present. I went to Internal
  Affairs to report Lt. John Danielson's acts of misconduct and to ask for an
  investigation into the missing Power Bundle from our evidence room. A few
  hours later, I'm the one placed on administrative leave for misconduct while
  John is made interim police chief in my place!"

     There are gasps in the audience. Captain Ruston bows his head while trying
  to regain his composure. He continues after a moment but his voice is weak.

     "I've known John Danielson for many years. He's been a good police officer
  but the recent murder of his brother is clouding his judgment. I think he
  should take time off to properly deal with his grief."

     I'm turning my head to gauge the People's reaction. They've been silent
  during most of what Captain Ruston has said but there's still anger showing
  on many of their faces. Some low grumbling. I hope that doesn't build up to
  another uproar in the auditorium. Bill continues speaking.

     "My heart is saddened by the bad things that were done by some of the men
  under my leadership. What good are mere words of apology that I could offer
  you? Yet I give them along with an act that I hope will be of meaning to you
  and the rest of the citizens of Havre." Captain Ruston pulls out a folded
  piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "I tender my resignation from the
  Havre Police force."

     To my dismay, there a those in the audience who are happy about this. They
  hoot in gladness that Captain Ruston should retire from the police force
  while others shout that it's not enough to appease their anger. I'm angry
  myself! Not towards Bill but that the People would throw away the services of
  a good man. I nearly get to my feet. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn notices the
  protest I'm barely keeping to myself. He asks Captain Ruston to stand aside
  while he takes the podium.

     "Short Hair. What have you to say about this?" asks the Elder.

     I get to my feet. "Captain Ruston is not responsible for the wrong done to
  me at the police station...." The Elder gestures for me to face the audience.
  I reluctantly turn around. It's scary to see so many people looking at me. In
  a loud voice, "I do not hold Captain Ruston responsible. It's John Danielson
  and that guard who taunted me in my cell who should face punishment." I'm
  dropping back into my chair. Breathless.

     Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn speaks in a mocking tone. "Have the People
  already forgotten the good Captain Ruston has done for us or do I have to
  remind you? Kittridge Bridge comes to mind. He and his men rescued Mark
  White-are-his-trees' little boy clinging on for dear life after being swept
  downriver after a storm. And a few years back, two of our women were raped
  that threatened an outbreak of war in this town but our police chief urged
  calm, promising to find the man responsible and bring him to justice. Did he
  not fulfill his promise to us? There are other incidents that prove Bill has
  acted for the good of us all. Should I go on?"

     I look over at Captain Ruston. He's still holding his resignation with a
  bowed head. Quiet-before-the-dawn addresses the chiefs and Elders sitting in
  the front row.

     "What say you about Captain Ruston's offer to tender his resignation?"

     Chief Shoots-rifle-at-moose gives a resounding, "Sah!"

     Chief Heart-for-all-to-see both hand gestures and speaks, "Sah."

     Elder Tends-the-horses says, "Sah."

     Elder Rides-a-fiery-horse says, "No."

     Two more tribal members utter 'Sah'. Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains
  gives the hand gesture for 'No'. That leaves Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn but
  there's no doubt in anyone's mind that he'll make the vote unanimous.

     "Sah." The Elder turns to Captain Ruston and grasps his right shoulder.
  "It is the decision of the Blackfoot council that we would not accept your
  resignation. We cannot speak on behalf of the other citizens of Havre nor can
  we prevent you from doing this thing if your heart is set on it. I think that
  you are making this sacrifice because of the wrongs done to us by other men.
  Short Hair has no bad words against you. We also don't hold you responsible.
  Be at peace and let this burden be lifted from your heart."

     I'm getting to my feet and clap. Jesse joins me and after a moment, a few
  others until it catches on in the audience. Not as resounding as I'd hoped
  for but it's sure better than hearing more 'boos'.

     Captain Ruston returns to his seat next to Mr. Talbert. I'm offered grins
  from both of them. The room turns silent when Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains
  stands before the podium.

     "You hear the words of they who speak from their hearts. I thank Bill
  Ruston, Mike Short Hair and Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn. Now, me to say a
  truth to the People that kept from they by the tribal council. It time to
  reveal this truth about the Nahtoya Ponokah Nah-tos Kits tah kee."

     The tiny hairs lift at the back of my neck. Is grandfather gonna tell the
  People everything about that Power Bundle now? He reverts into Siksika.

     "My grandfather had crafted this elk skin bound mystery-man's medicine
  sacrifice. This Inspired One gave his life to its completion and our Father
  saw fit to borne the Power Bundle with a spirit. His son, who was my father,
  took his father's body and hid it in a cave deep in the mountains to honor
  his father's last request. The Power Bundle slept in Shaman Good-eyes' arms
  until my grandson came of age. It was to come to him but a Trickster managed
  to steal it first."

     Jes and I exchange knowing glances. Grandfather is gonna tell everything
  he knows about the Power Bundle! And about us, too?

     "Eli Kie was this thief. His Dark Master..." Grandfather makes the warding
  off gesture to evil, "... tasked him to find the Power Bundle to subvert its
  spirit for an evil purpose. I will not speak of what that was. Yet he was
  thwarted. A white man adopted by our tribe who had helped us recover other
  stolen belongings, the remains of our ancestors suffering desecration and
  negotiated mineral rights on our lands with the Government was guided by
  vision to take back from the Trickster what was ours. He was Running Water's
  companion."

     My eyes widen after hearing that last remark. Grandfather is obviously
  talking about Ron Earlman but he won't utter the name of the dead.

     "Before this tribesman could give me the Power Bundle, he was murdered.
  Eli Kie should not have done this deed before learning where the man had
  hidden the Power Bundle in his trailer. Our tribesman had given his life to
  keep that secret. I heard the Power Bundle's Call and from vision, knew that
  another white man of good heart would find it with the help of my grandson.
  Short Hair had already brought Jes-ee-ah out of himself through his love.
  Some of you have seen this wondrous change in him! It is because of this man
  that my grandson can undergo training to follow in my footsteps after I am
  gone." Grandfather steadies himself by tightly grasping the podium before he
  faints. The truth must escape his lips before his strength fails.

     "Eli Kie tried entering the bedroom where the Power Bundle laid hidden but
  our murdered tribesman's spirit guarded over it. When Mike Yager rented this
  trailer, he Called out to him for help and tried Showing him where the Power
  Bundle was. Not an easy task since Mike was unlearned in our ways which more
  often frightened him. Jes-ee-ah helped him overcome his fear as he himself
  was helped by him. They found our Power Bundle and were about to return it to
  me when Eli Kie struck again. My grandson fought this servant of evil. Mike
  came to his aid and with the help of his neighbor, Mr. Augusten, held the
  Trickster at bay until Officer Hawk-swooping-down arrived on the scene. Mike
  and Jes-ee-ah fled with the Power Bundle back to Winnapah's house. There, Lt.
  Danielson was waiting inside for them.

     "This policeman had taken Mike Yager's computer's hard drive and a diary
  zerox from the house because he feared that his association with Miss Thomas,
  a collector and seller of Native artifacts would be discovered. Eli Kie also
  used his position as a police officer to help collectors obtain illegal
  artifacts and to tip them off when they fell under investigation. They were
  working together.

     "When Mike and Jes-ee-ah escaped from the Trickster's clutches with what
  he'd tried taking from them by force, he called Lt. Danielson to warn him
  that they were coming. This policeman ran out of the house with his gun
  drawn on Jes-ee-ah holding our tribe's Power Bundle. Mike prevented his
  friend from being shot. Now, he faces the charge of attempted murder of a
  police officer brought onto him by the D.A. when he was only acting in self
  defense and to protect my grandson."

     Cries of outrage are heard from the People. They support what I did but
  what they don't know is how brutally I attacked that police officer. Lt.
  Scott Danielson broke his hip when I tripped him off the porch. I beat him
  into unconsciousness from my repeated blows to his head until Jesse shouted
  for me to stop. I was gonna kill him! This is why I think I'm going to be
  sent to prison because my attack went beyond self defense. My eyes turn to
  the center aisle where cameras are videotaping this meeting. One of them is
  an Indian! I think he's been translating what's being said in Siksika into
  English. How much of this will appear on television? I hope grandfather
  realizes that what he says will become known outside this room. There's a
  danger of revealing too much truth, especially to the D.A. prosecuting my
  case but what I fear most is if my relationship to Jesse is revealed!

     "Jes-ee-ah was suffering hurts from Eli Kie's assault. Yet with the help
  of his good friend, they escaped Lt. Danielson. Winnapah drove them to see
  me. The joy I felt to have our tribe's Power Bundle returned lifted my heart!
  Yet the terrible cost of it. Eli Kie has murdered for it and I feared that he
  wouldn't stop until he had it back. That's why I placed the bundle into the
  hands of the Havre Police for safe keeping. Not for its own sake, but to
  protect those whom Eli Kie would have killed to get it."

     Cries of dismay fill the auditorium. They sound like the wailing old women
  make when the men who fell in battle were seen slung over the backs of black
  painted horses coming into camp. Grandfather raises his hand. Quiet returns
  to the auditorium.

     "I know that there are those amongst you who would have gladly stood in
  harm's way to protect this Power Bundle from being captured by evil. It is
  our connection with our Father. Know this! The bundle was dying after its
  struggle with Eli Kie. I managed to Pass its spirit into my two grandsons so
  what I'd given to the police was a dead thing. The Trickster knew this not
  when he took it from them yet he sought revenge upon his associate, Scott
  Danielson by murdering him in his hospital bed with a flint blade he removed
  from the bundle. He also murdered Miss Thomas and burned her house down. In
  this way, Eli Kie silenced them so they couldn't raise a bad word against
  him. The police have evidence of his evil deeds and they seek for him now."

     I feel tension rising in the auditorium. That surprises me. I had expected
  the People to express relief because much of their anger was directed at the
  police for losing their tribe's Power Bundle and that sham of an apology by
  the D.A. I'm given looks of sympathy by those around me. I don't get it.

     "We must protect Mike Short Hair and Jes-ee-ah from harm as we would have
  for the Power Bundle. Its spirit is within them. Of Power. Some of you have
  seen this in my grandsons already. More of you will discover this as you get
  to know them and their sacred task of bringing a truth to the People."

     Jesse and I exchange glances. Man! Do people realize what grandfather is
  telling them about us? Quiet-before-the-dawn has his hand on the shaman's
  shoulder. To support him or in warning not to reveal anything further?

     "My People," the shaman says with love revealing itself from his heart.
  "I call you to battle against those who do harm against your tribesmen. Not
  with arrows or tomahawks as in days long ago. We lost to their overwhelming
  hatred expressed by guns, their broken promises and attempts to refashion us
  into their image of a 'civilized' people. No. We have more effective weapons
  to counter them today and that is with truth. Let those who would open their
  hearts to us see it for themselves. March with strength and resolve in your
  hearts in peaceful demonstrations for in this way, the cycle of hatred can
  be broken. I make this call to battle but I'm too old to lead you in it."

     The auditorium turns dead silent. People are looking around for who will
  lead them since their shaman says he won't be able to. Quiet-before-the-dawn
  draws looks from the People but he's shaking his head. The other chiefs, too.
  The tiny hairs lift at the back of my neck when I Feel something building in
  Jesse. A reluctant excitement that breaks to become a terrible resolve.
  There are gasps when he stands up.

     "I will lead the People to your call for battle, grandfather."

     :No, Jes! Why does it have to be you?: I mind shout.

     :You've helped me, love. The whole tribe! You overcame your fear of Indian
  magic by opening yourself to things you couldn't see with your eyes or reason
  out through logic. You made that leap of faith and that's how you found the
  Power Bundle. Now, it's my turn to save your butt.:

     I'm springing to my feet to be at my lover's side. He's about to swoon
  from the heavy burden that he's taken upon himself. My hand is offered to
  steady him. Jesse stands up tall. He smiles grimly at me. I realize that at
  this moment, the boy in him is gone.

     Winna gets up from her chair. She turns to us with tears in her eyes.
  Running Water stands with pride in his eyes. People come to their feet around
  us, raising their right hands in fists to offer Jesse their support. The
  silence is only broken by the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.
  Everywhere I look, there are people standing to face Jesse with raised
  fists. This is an unbelievably powerful moment.

     A slow drumbeat is heard from the stage. Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains
  makes an announcement that I've heard from chiefs in Christopher's time.

     "Jes-ee-ah is chosen as war leader by the People. May his wisdom temper
  rashness. May his cunning bring our warriors to within striking of our
  enemies. May his blade be sharp and aimed true into their hearts. Oh, Father!
  We ask for Your guidance in what has brought us to this. Peace talks have
  failed. We go to our enemy with the courage to make an end to this conflict.
  If our cause is true, then we'll be victorious. Make us worthy!"

     A single deafening shout rises from the People. The drum beating ends.
  People return to their seats in the silence that follows. Jesse sits down
  with me. There's a look on his face that I've never seen from him before. One
  of utter confidence, pride and the realization that he's taken on a great
  burden without regret. Yet inside him, I Sense his fear should he fail them.
  :You won't, my love!:

     :Everyone is looking to me,: Answers Jesse. :Am I really worthy of their
  confidence, love?:

     :They believe in you. I do! Remember that you're only human like all the
  other war leaders who've faced this moment. All anyone can ask is that you do
  your best but don't ever, ever reveal your doubts to them!:

     :Your words fill my heart, Short Hair. Where did you find such wisdom?:

     :From watching a war movie called U-571. I can tell you about it later.:
  Jes smiles. When looking towards the stage, I see grandfather sitting back
  in his chair. His eyes are closed. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn comes before
  the podium and speaks.

     "I offer this council. We should gather at the Havre Police station
  tomorrow morning at ten. Bring only signs as your weapons to bear. Not all
  the policemen have bad hearts but they will fear us. Let our silence with a
  raised fist earn respect from them instead. Other people may join in our
  peace march. Let them, as before. Anyone who does violence will bring shame
  down upon us all. Keep the fire in your bellies! but honor what our Inspired
  One has told you about breaking the cycle of hatred. I have spoken."

     Quiet-before-the-dawn lifts his right hand in a fist and the People join
  him. I Sense the strength in this simple act. A voiceless shout of protest
  that will fill the hearts of others. Then it hits me. Everyone is doing this
  for me! They're gonna march in front of the station to show their support.

     The slow drum beat returns. I'm looking around for it but the booming
  seems to come from everywhere. People get up from their chairs and start
  filing out of the auditorium. A glance from Running Water warns me to remain
  seated. Yeah. Who wants to face the hoard of reporters waiting outside? The
  cameramen in the center aisle are rushing to the exits to join up with the
  rest of their news crews.

     When I turn back, Jesse is gone from his chair. He's running to his
  grandfather sitting near the podium. I'm quick to join him. The old man has
  his head hanging to his chest. Elder Quiet-before-the-dawn is speaking to him
  in a low whisper.

     "Stop fussing over me," exclaims Shaman He-who-runs-up-mountains.

     Jesse holds his grandfather's right hand and I'm Sensing their flow of
  thoughts to each other. Something else too. I grab Jesse when he's about to
  collapse. There's a strong Pulling from me that I'm opening myself to so my
  lover can replenish himself. It's leaving me a bit faint.

     After a moment, Jes and I recover more or less. Grandfather gets up from
  his chair without needing any help. Chief Heart-for-all-to-see addresses his
  shaman in old Siksika.

     "Are you not well?"

     The shaman makes an off hand gesture that it's of no concern. He turns to
  his grandson with pride. "War Leader Jes-ee-ah. You answered my plea as I had
  hoped! Now, come with me so that I can prepare you in this role."

     I'm gasping. My lover won't be returning home with me? From Chris, I know
  that a newly named war leader is taken to the shaman's lodge for a rite that
  lasts all night. Disappointment comes to me but I cast it aside. This is a
  great honor for Jesse. I'll see him tomorrow at the demonstration. The other
  Blackfoot Chiefs and Elders walk past me in a silent whirlwind of feathers.
  Running Water grasps my arm and I'm pulled back from their enclosing circle
  around Jes-ee-ah and grandfather.

     "Go home, Short air."

     I'm stung by my brother's words and it shows on my face. He lowers his
  eyes from mine. I then guard against my strong emotions as a man should.
  "You are right. Jes-ee-ah needs to be prepared for tomorrow." Running Water
  nods.

     "Mike. I'll be coming over tomorrow morning to assume the watch over the
  house. Maybe they'll televise the protest for us to see."

     "What? Aren't we gonna join them in front of the police station!"

     "No."

     I'm Calling out to Jes for an explanation. He's speaking with the tribal
  council but manages to Answer my plea after a long moment.

     :Love. We go to protest on your behalf so it's not proper for you to be
  there. Please understand!:

     I'm hanging my head. :Yeah. Okay. Running Water said that he'll be coming
  over to the house tomorrow. We'll watch your protest on T.V.:

     :Mom is working tomorrow.:

     I glance at Running Water. He's standing quietly at my side and nothing
  shows on his face that he realizes this. :Yeah. I'll be all alone with him.:
  Anger fills me by what my lover may be suggesting but I manage to qualm it.
  We ain't gonna end up in the bedroom! That's our space to be together.

     :I have to go, love. Don't be worried if I can't Answer you tonight. My
  initiation may require that so please don't be mad.:

     :I'm not. I know that when you undergo training with grandfather at the
  end of this month, he may ask us not to Speak with each other so you can
  concentrate on his stuff.: Jes doesn't Answer me. I hear his soft voice in
  the circle of men standing around him. I'm releasing a sigh.

     Running Water returns to his chair to get his jacket. Winna is still
  sitting in her chair like a stone. She doesn't even look up at me when I
  approach. "Are you ready to go home?"

     Winna gets stiffly to her feet. She reaches to the seat back for her coat
  and I'm helping her put it on. Running Water tries making his escape. The
  woman calls out to him before he could take three steps.

     "I'd like to have you over for dinner tomorrow night."

     Oh-oh. My brother has been trying to avoid this woman's 'dinner invite'
  for the past two weeks but it looks like he's been caught at last. He has to
  answer for not telling her that he knew Jes and I were being together.

     "I'll try, Winna. My father hasn't fully recovered from being ill."

     "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know."

     Winna seems to be considering something when she speaks again.

     "I hope that you can make it over tomorrow night. It is only for dinner.
  Nothing else that you should be concerned about unless it's my cooking."

     "No. Your meals are nearly a legend," Running Water answers with relief.
  "I should be able to make it over."

     "Good. To tell you the truth, I've missed hearing news of your family. I
  didn't even know that your father was sick."

     "He's recovering from a stomach flu."

     "Is my nephew able to take food?" asks Winna.

     "Yes. Since this afternoon."

     "I'll prepare soup for him that you can take home tomorrow night."

     "Thank you, Winna."

     They look at each other for a long moment. Something unspoken passes
  between them, a measure of forgiveness in Winna's eyes that Running Water
  needed to see. Then he quickly drops his gaze. My heart aches for my brother!
  I know the terrible secret that is being kept from this woman that deeply
  shames him. It would be best to let it remain with the dead. If only Ron's
  diary had never been found. Damn him! Too many people have seen it and I fear
  what Eli Kie may do to cause harm through revealing a truth best left hidden.

     Running Water gives me a guarded glance. "See you tomorrow." He's nearly
  running for the exit. I'm feeling pity for my brother. What Ron had done with
  Jesse wasn't his fault yet we can expect that Winna won't see it that way
  because Running Water and Ron had been lovers. If she ever learns this
  terrible secret... Man! I don't want to think about it.

     The auditorium is nearly emptied of people. I lead Winna into the rear
  hall and turn left for the side entrance we'd come in by earlier. A Guardian
  is standing before the door. He's a rather tall Indian, in his early thirties
  and he wears a painted shirt that denotes his role to keep the peace during
  tonight's activities. He recognizes that we're his charges needing safe
  passage to the parking lot. "Are the wolves prowling our bolt hole?" I ask.

     "I'm afraid so, Short Hair. My brother is guarding from without. Wait here
  for a moment so I can tell him that you're leaving."

     Hmm. This man wasn't surprised that I'd spoken in Siksika. Someone must
  have told him about me and spoiled my perverse pleasure. He closes the door
  behind himself after going outside. Winna releases a weary sigh. I'm sure she
  wishes this night were over with. Me too. Yet we must run the gauntlet past
  the reporters and drive back to Havre before we reach our beds. Mine will be
  empty this night.

     The door opens. Our two Guardians help get us past the throng of reporters
  who are waiting outside. Bright camera lights shine on our faces. I'm holding
  Winna's arm when we try making our way to where she's parked. Questions are
  shouted at me. I ignore them. Winna's truck is close by yet it takes us a
  minute to reach it because of the press of people around us.

     "Please, Mr. Yager! Can you tell us..."

     "No comment!" I shout in a futile attempt to have them stop asking me
  questions. Winna takes an agonizing long moment to find the keys in her
  purse. Our Guardians position themselves between the reporters and us yet
  someone manages to thrust a microphone past them that strikes me hard in the
  mouth. I'm tasting blood.

     "Mr. Yager! Do you know the name of that guard who taunted you at the
  police station?"

     I bring the back of my hand against my mouth then look down at it. Blood.
  A reporter gasps. The man holding that microphone withdraws it but I'm not
  given his apology. When a Guardian sees that I've been injured, his eyes fill
  with dismay that turns to anger. "Be at peace, brother!" I plead.

     Winna gets her door unlocked and opens it. I get into her truck and scoot
  along the seat to the passenger side. Her door closes with a loud resounding
  bang. The engine is started. It's slow going to get out of the parking lot
  because of the congestion of trucks, news vans, and people walking to their
  vehicles. Winna reaches back behind her seat and produces a box of tissues
  for me. I pull out a wad and press them against my mouth.

     We're driving back to Havre under an escort. A truck in front of us and
  two behind. I don't know if it's anyone we know because of the dark road.
  After fussing over my injury outside the parking lot, Winna has been keeping
  silent. I wouldn't want to talk. Man! I'm surprised by how much pain comes
  from a split lip! At least the bleeding has stopped.

     We reach Havre. Winna drives through town surrounded by our escort. I
  recognize Dirt-brought-up-in-his-hand's truck in front of us by the light of
  the street lamps. When we're finally pulling into the driveway, honking is
  heard from the trucks behind us and they take off. Only one truck remains at
  the curb to guard over the house. Relief fills me. There were no reporters
  waiting for us.

     We get out of the truck and quickly make our way into the house. Winna
  asks me to go clean up in the bathroom. In the mirror, I see my face darkened
  by charcoal. I'd forgotten about that. It's rinsed off and I'm swishing out
  my mouth with water. My inside lower lip is swollen. I tongue over the cut
  where my teeth had sliced into it from that microphone strike. Hmm. No
  kissing for a few days. That reminds me about being alone in bed tonight. I
  probably won't be with Jesse all day tomorrow either while he's leading the
  protest so all I'll see of him is what they show on T.V. At least we can Talk
  to each other. I'm Calling out to my lover now. No answer.

     In the kitchen, Winna is pressing the erase button to each message when
  they're from reporters asking for me. She doesn't bother listening but skips
  to the next one. The machine beeps.

     "Mr. Yager! On behalf of Channel Six News, we apologies for that mishap
  from our reporter's microphone. Could you please call me if there's anything
  I can do? My name is Toni Spruel and my cell phone number is..."

     Winna looks at me. "Erase it. She's only using that as an excuse to get me
  to call for an interview." Beep. The answering machines announces that there
  are no more messages. We're both startled when the telephone begins to ring.
  She slides a setting on the machine and it answers right away. Winna's
  greeting is heard.

     "I'm sorry that we're not home right now. Please leave us your message
  after the beep. Thank you." Beep.

     "Winna?" the voice asks in Siksika. "It's Hawk-in-sky... Are you there?"

     Winna grabs for the phone. I'm backing away to give this woman some
  privacy but I can't help overhearing what she's saying to Running Water's
  father. Yes. He and his wife can come over tomorrow for dinner with their
  son. She'll be glad to catch up on family news. A long silence follows where
  Hawk-in-sky is doing all the talking. Winna gives me the eye. I'm thinking of
  escaping to my bedroom but her raised hand asks me to stay for a moment. She
  ends the call a minute later.

     "Running Water's parents are coming over for dinner tomorrow with him,"
  says Winna.

     I'm nodding. I wonder if he suggested that to his parents to keep Winna
  on good behavior. My brother has been dreading a confrontation with her.

     "I expect that we'll be getting more calls from reporters tonight so I'm
  going to have my answering machine pick up on the first ring. Is that alright
  with you, Mike?"

     "Sure. Is there a volume control on it?"

     Winna checks. I watch her turning a wheel on the machine. Now, we won't
  hear her greeting or the messages from the kitchen all night. I'm looking up
  at the clock. It's almost nine. The woman is glaring at me. Man! What's made
  her mad?

     "You didn't warn me what Jes-ee-ah was going to do!" accuses Winna.

     "I Asked him not to! He stood up and made that announcement without so
  much as hint to me before he did it." I'm gasping for breath. "He is his own
  man, Winna. Neither you nor I can tell him what he can do anymore."

     "You didn't know?"

     "No." But maybe I should of. Grandfather had said something this morning
  to Jesse that had stuck in my mind. After my lover told him that the People
  must fight to protect one of their own (he meant me), grandfather asked him
  to remember his strong words when he attended the meeting. He sure did.

     Winna sits down over a stool. "I'm sorry, Mike. What my son did at the
  meeting had taken me by surprise. Why did it have to be him amongst all those
  men sitting in that auditorium! Anyone could have led the protest."

     Pain comes to my eyes. "Because no one else wanted to." Winna is shaking
  her head.

     "I don't know about that, Mike. Yet maybe everyone was expecting my son to
  do this thing after hearing what his grandfather told them about you two."

     Alarm fills my eyes. "Do you think the People know that we're together!"
  Winna gently nods.

     "They do now or strongly suspect it. Oh, Mike! What am I going to do?"

     "Be strong, like Jesse has shown this night."

     "My son is so different now," Winna whispers to herself.

     I'm not gonna respond to that. This change in Jes isn't because his former
  self has possessed him if that's what she fears. Good-eyes hasn't. But what
  she's seeing from her son is what all mothers can expect from their grown up
  children. Jes-ee-ah is no longer her little boy needing to be taken care of.

     "I need to get to bed," says Winna softly.

     "Yeah. Me too. We've had a busy day." The woman gets up from her stool and
  I'm surprised when she offers me a hug. I gladly accept. "Mother? We're both
  sorry about all the trouble we've caused you." Her arms tighten around me.

     "I know. A lot of that isn't your fault but it's been very hard on me."

     "The only thing for it is to stand strong. Better days will come."

     "I hope so, Mike."

     Our hug ends. Winna gives me a weak grin before walking to her bedroom.
  I'm tempted to go into the front room to watch for the news on T.V. but I am
  really tired. My bed calls to me.


     My eyes are closed to find sleep. It's hard with all the thoughts racing
  around my head. I tighten my arms around Brown Bear. His fuzzy tail presses
  against my belly but he needn't worry about me raping him in place of my
  lover. I'm laughing to myself. I don't go for hairy men or stuffed animals
  at that. I've kept my underwear on. He's safe from me.

     I'm yawning. When any thoughts try entering my head, I drive them away. My
  face is tickled by Brown Bear. That reminds me of my cut lip but it's no
  longer throbbing. I'm licking over the raw wound. Another yawn. I embrace a
  familiar warmth that encloses me like a blanket. Ah, Jes... Sleep takes me.


  AUTHOR'S NOTE:
  I've taken some liberties with describing the 'Blackfoot' ceremonies you've
  just read in this story part. Some are from traditions practiced by other
  Native Tribes or purely came out of my imagination.

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