Yelloweye
9
The Hunger
The Family
SATURDAY, there were chores to do and riders at the stable. Cole and Ashley took the Forest Service road up to the trailhead and hiked in to the base camp for their hired hands. The situation was tense.
The oil company had hired ‘security’ people, supposedly to guard their equipment. In reality, they had spent the night in ATVs racing in circles around the site, spooking the cattle off in all directions. All Cole’s cowboys were on their horses attempting to round up cattle that had scattered as much as a mile away. There was a small meadow half a mile north that was sufficiently far from the continued noise that they could gather the herd to get ready to drive them back to the ranch. It would take all weekend.
Cole was storming when he returned to the ranch.
“Blake, this is Gold Watch Cattle Company,” he said into the phone. Ramie looked up at her father from across the desk they shared. She’d never heard of Gold Watch Cattle Company. “Well, we hoped we were out of the business. I know it’s been a long time.— No, the wolves haven’t been a problem for five years now. You guys did good work protecting the cattle without calling attention to yourselves.— You don’t have people working on the Shale Oil team, do you?” Ramie listened as her father spoke to the unknown person about a company she didn’t know about. “Just wanted to make sure. I need your help, but I didn’t want to risk a conflict of interest.— Yeah, they’re spooking our cattle and stampeding them up on the ridge faster than we can round them up to drive down the mountain.— How long?— We’re looking for no casualties. I think Mother Earth will take care of that. Let’s roll.” Cole hung up the phone and stared up at his daughter and wives. “Gold Watch Cattle Company is back in business.”
There wasn’t time to explain with the number of people out riding on a sunny Saturday. Ramie and Kyle had warned everyone off the trails up to the ridge and had their hired hands go out to block those trails with yellow tape. As riders returned in the afternoon, the four hired hands and two owners assisted with saddles and trailer loading for those who had just come in for the day. It seemed like there were an awful lot of them, but people were finding National Forest and BLM trails closed.
“I’ll tell you what we need to do,” one weekend cowboy was holding forth at the campfire. It was part of the atmosphere of the ranch that they kept a fire circle with hot coffee on the most popular days. Sometimes people hung out after their rides or had lunch picnics at the circle. Ramie looked at the dude who was speaking and recognized Rex Wilson, a lawyer from Laramie. He prided himself in having the biggest horse on the ranch so he could look down on everyone else when he rode. The animal had the temperament of an old plow horse, though, and Rex could seldom keep up with other riders on the trail. “We need to send about fifty bulldozers in there and bury that Indian village and the Earth Sister bitch with them. This country runs on oil and industry. You’d think they’d have learned their lesson at Standing Rock.”
Ramie seethed, but it only got worse as several of her regular boarders rolled their eyes and said goodbye. Rex wasn’t finished and Ramie wondered if he’d been drinking out on the trail.
“We’ve had too much land tied up by the government for too long. Why are we spending money for people and resources to patrol millions of acres of land that no one uses? If we can make some profit off the land, we should be putting it into the economy. Quit sucking people dry,” Rex continued to the two riders remaining at the campfire.
Ramie walked over with a bucket of water and dowsed the fire creating billowing smoke and steam that blew directly onto the blustering dude.
“Hey, bitch! Watch what you’re doing. We’re having a nice chat here.”
“We’re closing up for the day. Time to head out, guys.” The other two tossed the remains of their coffee and put their tin cups on the table.
“I pay good money for my rights here. If I say I’m staying for a while, I’m staying,” Rex said.
“Not anymore,” Ramie said. She reached in a shirt pocket and counted out $300 in twenties. “Your horse costs too much to feed. Can’t make a profit on him. Not to mention the extra time my hands have to spend grooming him and taking care of his oversize tack. And nobody likes having you around. So, here’s a refund on your boarding for the month. If your horse is still here on August 1, he’ll be turned out with the rescues. Be happier there anyway.”
“You can’t do that.”
“This is LK Stables. I’m the L. It’s mine and I can choose who I want as a boarder. I don’t want you.”
“Do you know who I am?” he demanded. Ramie could smell the liquor on his breath as he moved into her personal space.
“Another dude who talks out his ass about his own shit. We’re through. Get out.”
“You can prepare to see me in court, Miss L. I’ll own this place when we’re done.” It looked for a moment like he was going to take a swing at Ramie, but suddenly noticed she was picking her fingernails with a large knife. Kyle was approaching with a rifle laid across his arm.
“Problem, Laramie?” Kyle asked.
“No. Mr. Rex Wilson has violated ranch policy by drinking on the trails and creating a public nuisance. I’ve terminated his boarding lease and he was just nicely leaving. That big horse of his gets full board for the rest of the month. If he hasn’t been moved by then, he goes to pasture with the rescues. Seems an appropriate place for him.”
After another scowl at Ramie and Kyle, Rex headed for his Escalade and drove out of the ranch. Kyle pulled out his cell phone.
“I’d like to report an apparent drunk driver,” he said. “White Escalade with Wyoming plates headed toward Laramie on 238 from Centennial. Just observed erratic driving. Seemed to be going pretty fast, too. You’re welcome. Have a nice day.” He grinned at Ramie.
“God, can the shit get any deeper?” Ramie said as the family gathered together. “I probably handled that dude all wrong, but when he started talking about burying Mandy and the village, I sort of lost it. He’s another one of those assholes that figures that if something doesn’t benefit him directly he shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
“Well, you’re probably right about that,” Cole said. “Could have been handled better, but so could a lot of things. We’re standing at the brink of a war. We might not be able to protect all land everywhere, but we’ll protect this land.”
“Speaking of which, who the hell is Gold Watch Cattle Company?” Ramie demanded. Cole, Ashley, and Mary Beth laughed.
“We told you about it years ago,” Ashley said. “But you were too bent on how your parents had turned crazy to listen to what we were saying.”
“Wasn’t that about the range war and how much it cost to have 5,000 head of cattle?” Kyle asked.
“Yes, but it was also about how we got the money to support all the ranchers in the county—well, except one—and provide food and security to outwait the market pressure,” Cole said.
“You mean when you were time traveling,” Kyle continued. “You built up a few million in gold and stuff.”
“Yes, but it also had to do with meeting Philemon Morgan the Third when he was time-traveling as the prospector Bill Campbell. We created a partnership back in 1888 and it was symbolized by two gold watches.” Cole pointed to the mantel on which a bell jar encompassed a gold watch on display. We told you that belonged to the original Kyle Redtail Wardlaw and was passed down through the Alexander line. The assets are all held in a trust with the stated purpose of protecting the land.”
“Pa, did you ever talk to Cait and Phile about time traveling?” Ramie asked.
“No. After the way you and Kyle reacted to it, we decided we’d put it off. Then you and Kyle started time traveling and it never occurred to me that there would be more than the pair of you in this generation.”
“If we hadn’t been so pig-headed, our siblings might have been warned. They might at least have known that we could share with them. We made so many mistakes!” Ramie moaned.
“Before we read, we should take a look at the recording of what happened today at Yellowstone,” Aubrey said. “It was interesting.”
Fourth Live Report
“This is Evan Waitley at the Yellowstone Grizzly Village, filling in for Sarah d’Angelo who is recovering from a vicious wolf attack at this site yesterday. We keep her in our prayers as she recovers from this trauma.”
“I bet it was traumatizing to have that big wolf piss on her,” Miranda laughed. “I’d hardly call it a vicious attack, though.”
“At the end of the broadcast yesterday, Earth Sister promised that today she would darken the skies. As you can see, it is bright and sunny here at Yellowstone. A messenger from the Park Service, who have been the only ones allowed in or out of the camp other than Earth Sister, indicated that she would emerge at noon today. And you can see her as she steps over the earth embankment that surrounds the village. She should be here shortly. The Park Service has been firm about not allowing our crews to get closer.”
“Do you get the impression that the government is playing both sides?” Ashley asked. “They’re enforcing the leases, but they are also protecting the protestors.”
“When Earth Sister promised a darkening of the skies, this reporter did some research. Historically, solar eclipses have been used by the savvy to cow primitive civilizations into believing their mystical powers. However, in our scientific age, we know and can predict solar and lunar eclipses. I was encouraged to note that there are no such predictions for today in any part of the world. As you can see, the sun is bright and the only thing above us is a lone bird circling high overhead. And here is Earth Sister.”
The camera shifted as a microphone was quickly clipped to Mandy’s dress and the wireless transmitter attached to her belt.
“Earth Sister, we might as well come straight to the point,” Evan said. His style was far more brusque than the previous reporter. “You promised darkened skies today. What kind of trick do you have in store?”
“You have witnessed animals of every species native to the Yellowstone over the past three days,” Mandy said. “And still you believe in trickery. We have no magic illusions for you. We have only Mother Earth’s natural protectors. But you have seen only those who dwell on the surface. I call you to witness the presence of those who dwell in the sky.” Mandy raised her hand and the camera panned up to the lone bird continuing its lazy circles. At the same time, the drums in the village began a new rhythm.
“One bird?” Evan asked. Then, as the camera held, another bird appeared and another. From the angle of the camera, the birds appeared to be flying out of the sun as more and more appeared in the sky. In minutes, there were hundreds of birds in the sky, their shadows passing over the village and the reporter. And still more kept pouring through the light.
There was a growing hum on the broadcast and the camera swung from the birds down a level to see swarms of insects launching from the grass into the air, emerging from the woodlands, and coming down from the mountains. Flies, mosquitoes, bees, locusts. Then, from the north came a cloud of bats. The birds, thousands of them now, blocked out the sun as they dove and fed on the insects rising to meet them.
Evan slapped at a mosquito. Earth Sister laughed.
“Don’t worry. They have nothing against you personally,” she said to the reporter. “Just a demonstration so you know it is not an illusion.”
“A mosquito? Not much…” Bird shit hit the microphone in the reporter’s hand and dripped onto him. “Nice. Just great,” he mumbled.
“It is not only the animals of the earth, but also those of the air that come to protect our Mother. But unseen to you, her creatures of the water and even those who dwell beneath the earth are rising to defend her.”
“What next?” Evan asked. “The biblical plagues included boils and frogs, if I remember rightly.”
“And even then, it took death before Pharaoh let the people go,” Mandy said. So, she was versed in other mythologies than her own. “Sadly, the corporations will not set Mother Earth free until death is rained down on them. You have seen the companies of her warriors. But you have not seen them together. When the battle begins, utter destruction will reign.”
“Tomorrow?” Evan asked.
“Tomorrow is a day of prayer and fasting. Just a thousand people in the village have joined their voices in support of Mother Earth and you have seen the response. Tomorrow we ask that people of all faiths—and those of no faith—join their voices with ours as we consider the land. And as we pray, we will also mourn for those warriors whose lives will be lost. Monday will be a good day to die.”
Mandy took off her microphone and handed it to the technician standing by. She turned to the village and the drums changed their rhythm. In the time it took her to return to the village, the sky cleared and just one lone bird continued to circle.
The Family
“I think I should read this next part,” Jason said when the family had found their places. “I have a deep sense of foreboding and I need to be the one to give it voice.”
“We love you, Jason,” Ramie and Miranda said together. There was an odd timbre to her voice when they both used it at the same time.
“I hope you always will,” he answered lifting a batch of papers from the box.
Phile: Building Drums
It took a while and several dreams to convince Merv that we whites, including two women, could learn to make drums and even then, he withheld certain tasks from us. Ramie and Kyle were still putting in a couple afternoons a week at the gun shop in town, so Caitlin and I acted like responsible adults and took a job with Merv’s trading post. The truth was that we sat in his back room, mostly watching him as he prepared the wood and a frame in which to bend it.
“Why are you using plywood for the frame?” I asked. It was certainly different than what we were learning in before-time with Two Sticks.
“It is the way most drums are made today,” he said. “It bends and stabilizes. If we used solid wood, it would take much longer and be prone to breaking. It takes a long time to build a drum of dogwood. And you are asking for large drums,” Merv explained as if we were babies.
“Grandfather,” Mandy spoke softly. “The Wolf Twins are learning from Two Sticks in the sacred mountain. The knowledge is here…” she pointed at our heads, “but our bodies must be trained in the way. Can you do less than Two Sticks?” Merv sighed and scowled at us.
“It is not simply the knowledge, children.” I was a little irritated. We were sixteen and functioning with two complete lives beneath our belts. I hardly thought we were children. “The wood curves against its grain to meet itself in the shape of a circle, the symbol sacred to Indian tribes sensitive to the harmony of the universe. The hide stretches across it. The laces pull and bind until it captures within itself the rich roll, the deep thunder, the soft murmur. It becomes a drum. This you can do. The skill can be taught. The drum will look and sound the same. It will even work to move you to your other selves. But it will not be a Cheyenne drum. The Twin Wolves can make Cheyenne drums because they are of the People and White Mouth has brought them to the teacher himself. Even after applying themselves for months with Two Sticks, they will not be skilled. But even if your mind is the same, your body is not Cheyenne. It is not in your blood. You are vé'ho'e.”
“Ma'heónėhetane, how will we make the thunder drum that White Mouth says we need?” Caitlin asked. “We need to… create. Two Sticks has said no Cheyenne drum that large has ever been made.” Merv sat quietly for a few minutes. We didn’t disturb him. We needed to make a Cheyenne drum unlike any that had been made before. I understood in an odd way. There was so much cultural appropriation going on that the People were ever more conscientious when it came to keeping their ritual pure. But if we wouldn’t have adequate skills even after studying with Two Sticks, how would we ever succeed? At last Merv looked up and searched our eyes. He suddenly looked much older than the 70 years I knew him to be.
“When the time comes, you will take me to Oxėse and I will make the thunder drum.”
Caitlin: Calluses
After we’d made our first toy drums from plywood following Merv’s direction, we did start using dogwood limbs to bend into the correct shape. When we started, Merv only had the plywood in stock. You can’t just go down to the lumber yard and buy dogwood. But he had contacts and his contacts had contacts and eventually a bundle of sticks arrived at the trading post. They were three inches thick and six feet long. In case you are slow at math, that will make a drum just under two feet across.
But it doesn’t happen all at once.
Merv’s workshop included power tools, and as much of a stickler as he was about tradition, he had no difficulty at all using a power saw to rip the sticks in half lengthwise. Nor did he have a hard time using hot water to soak them in so they would absorb more quickly.
“How are we going to split the log for the frame of a big drum?” I moaned. “Are we going to have to build the frame here and transport it to Oxėse?”
Merv scowled at me again. He’d been doing a lot of scowling lately. I could tell that he was working on more than the little drums that he was guiding us through.
“I will take some tools. Now you must work on bending the wood,” he said. “You will also need a thick, tough hide for the drumhead. For these little drums we will use cowhide. I believe the biggest circle that we could get from an elk or buffalo hide will be about six feet across. We’ll make that our target. That means a length of about eighteen feet for the frame board.” After I started him talking, he became lost in his own world, just continuing to talk it out. “If I splice pieces together, the frame might collapse. For a hide that large, the frame will need to be at least six inches deep. Better eight. It would take a year to bend a board that size into a circle and a powerful clamp, as well. I have to think about this.”
I know that we were difficult to live with—always running off and never being where you needed us—but we did work hard on the horse ranch. We loved the horses and especially the rescues. We were used to grabbing hay bales by the strings and slinging them around. We used ropes. Our bodies were pretty hard. Unlike Mandy’s. She was soft and beautiful. Oh, I’m not saying I wasn’t good looking. There were enough guys at school telling me that. But Mandy wasn’t used to hard manual labor.
At Merv’s, we used scrapers and sandpaper. We laced rawhide through the skins. It was wet and rough and we had to pull it tight. We got blisters and blisters turned into calluses. For all three of us, our hands became hard.
“Your hands feel more like Wolf Riding Woman’s now,” Mandy laughed. “So do mine.”
“Do they hurt when I touch you?” I asked.
“No, love. Mine don’t hurt you, do they? The sensations are different, but we still love and I love your touch.”
By the time school was out and our seventeenth birthdays were rolling around, we had each finished a drum and Merv had performed all the rituals to sanctify them. He had painted the frames with earth paint before the hides were applied and smoked cigarettes, blowing the smoke across the skins in the four directions while he chanted blessings. He was still working on technical problems for creating a frame with a big enough diameter.
And in before-time, we reached the time for our departure from Two Sticks and return to Oxėse.
Phile: Wolfpack
The day we were to leave Two Sticks, our horses arrived at Bear Butte. When we traveled on White Mouth, we’d left everything behind but our wolf robes, knives, and hatchets. We weren’t even certain we were going back to the same place, but we’d sent out a call to our horses and they answered.
They were not the only ones who answered. Two Sticks was startled to find Wolf pacing beside them, the horses seeming not to mind at all. Caitlin fingered her hatchet. Wolf owns us. He is our Nésemoo'o, spirit guide. We have to follow where he leads. But we don’t have to like it.
Two Sticks honored Wolf and then slipped back inside the mountain. I looked back to where he had disappeared and the mountain had closed behind him. There was no trace.
You must return to Oxėse and prepare for battle. You will make drums. But you must also gather your armies. This world will soon become a battlefield. Not only here at the Greasy Grass, but following the sun westward. The greedy ones will break apart the People and crush their spirit. Only in Oxėse will you have kept them pure. Ride your horses West and see what is becoming of our land. Then return to Oxėse and make ready for war.
Creator Wolf’s instructions were clear. But what did we know of war?
The pack is war. You will learn from the pack.
And so, as we rode our horses’ backs, we rode the mind of the pack and learned.
There is nothing like the hunger of a pack of wolves. As soon as pangs hit the belly, bloodlust fills the soul. If others dare trespass their land, bloodlust fills their hearts. If one is hurt, bloodlust fills their minds. I once heard Mom Ash refer to them as killing machines. This was why the wolves would lead the battle.
As we traveled, we hunted. Gorging and sleeping only works when you are in a single territory and have a den. Our pack was miles from home and intent on returning. Therefore, we killed, ate, and moved on. The wolves were frustrated at the slower pace of our horses, pulling travois filled with drums and pots of the earth paint and glue Two Sticks had given us. And because we never gorged, we were always hungry and looking for a kill.
The wolves that constantly paced us had become nervous. They ranged out farther and circled us. We could feel the bloodlust in them. They wanted to hunt. To kill. It is hard to say if they were feeding us this message or if our unrest fueled their desire. I was ready to take a herd of elk and tear them with my teeth. And then we saw them.
The yellow-haired soldier rode with an Indian guide. We’d learned in school that Custer eschewed the blues and had taken to wearing buckskins. His long blond hair flowed out behind him. It took one snarl and the wolves attacked. We attacked with them, arrows on our bows. As the soldier raised his rifle, our two arrows struck home and he looked into our eyes. Above, a Wolf Bird cawed out the death cry.
I looked and did not see the Indian. The wolves were tearing apart the two horses.
Wolf Riding Woman had killed a soldier scout at Horse Creek. She had completed her transition to wolf warrior by tearing his throat out with her teeth. I had never killed a man. I felt the horror and the sadness as he looked into my eyes and the light fled from them. I turned my pony and galloped westward, ignoring the rattle and pain of the travois and the lust of the wolves. It took two days before Wolf Riding Woman caught up with me, bringing the travois.
Somehow in that mad flight, we crossed into Oxėse.
“Caitlin, I’m sick,” I cried. “How could I do that? He was just a guy. It wasn’t the general. I just killed a guy who was riding along minding his own business. He didn’t even point his rifle at us.”
“He was the one,” Caitlin said. “I saw it in his eyes. He knew us. He knew he’d killed our mother. And just like the elk lays down his life when his time has come, he died willingly. He died because he knew what he’d done and welcomed the reward.”
Mandy was less sympathetic. We met her at the Bear Claw on Saturday night and she came to our room with us. She’d just returned from Lame Deer where she’d gone in June to continue her education as a medicine woman. She comforted us, but insisted that she talk with Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman as well. It was like slipping on a second skin these days. Her mind flowed into ours.
“You are a warrior, Wolf Rising. You are a warrior, Phile,” she said. “You have drunk the blood of your enemies. It is not the last death. When our time comes, others will die. If we are to save Earth Mother from the scorpion, people will die. Later, we will mourn for them. But when the time comes, we will raise our hands in defense of the Mother.”
“He was innocent.”
“The deer are innocent. Even the wolves are innocent. Humans are not innocent. Let us take our little drums and join together. I want all my lovers tonight,” she said.
Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman joined with us, drumming us together. We opened a passage and enjoyed each other. Even though the drumming stopped, our heartbeats seemed to keep the passage open. I had enjoyed all my lovers and we lay together in exhaustion when Yelloweye appeared before us. He looked at us and I realized all five of us were here in now-time. Until this moment, we had always met in Oxėse. He turned his head almost all the way around and spread his wings.
It was confusing to look at this world with two sets of eyes. We needed to practice living in one world with two bodies in more ways than just making love. It was confusing enough to be in two worlds at the same time. Wolf Riding Woman and Wolf Rising went to the owl and he sheltered them in his wings.
You have much work to do before the time has ripened. Earth Sister, you are the bridge. You will pass between and help meld the two into one. Be certain you are prepared when you step into Oxėse.
He folded his wings and our two other selves disappeared an instant before Yelloweye did.
Caitlin: Getting Through
We almost didn’t go back to school. I wanted to quit and run away with Mandy, maybe to Lame Deer, and just get on with it. Mom Mar convinced me otherwise. Mom Ash just laid down the law. I was seventeen and I was going to school.
Part time.
Phile and I got on that work/study program and only had to attend classes in the morning. The rest of the time we worked on the ranch. And the work was good. We pretty much took over care of the rescues. They were our herd as much as Ramie’s. They had winter pasture with shelters where they could get out of the worst of the weather. We hauled hay down to the shelters two or three times a week and went down every day to make sure the water tanks stayed open.
There weren’t as many antelope mingling with the herd as there had been during the wolf attacks, but they still knew a free meal when they saw one. They brought us word of what was happening farther out on the range. Many times, we took the opportunity to cross from now-time to Oxėse to be with our other selves. We tried to time our visits so Mandy wasn’t in school and could join us in the mud hut we’d made near White Mouth’s cave. It never seemed to work to bring Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman to now-time for long.
“I think the magic in now-time is too weak to sustain for long periods,” Mandy said. “We can stay together in now-time as long as we are beating our drums but once we stop the time separates again. When we go to Oxėse, the magic is strong and we can sustain ourselves there.”
It made as much sense as anything, but I did want to have Wolf Riding Woman in a nice soft bed instead of among the furs sometime. We managed it once by having Wolf Rising and Phile continue to drum softly while Mandy, Wolf Riding Woman, and I made love in our room.
We finally graduated from high school. It seemed a lot had changed this winter. Kyle, Ramie, and Aubrey celebrated their first anniversary. They looked pretty damned happy.
Being out of school meant that we could work full time on the ranch. But it also meant that we had a lot more freedom to move around. That could have got us in a world of trouble if Merv hadn’t fixed up a little apartment for his granddaughter behind the trading post. Nobody seemed to notice if we went into town and didn’t come back at night. And on those occasions, we continued to work in Merv’s shop, learning to shape the saplings into flexible strips using draw knives and sandpaper.
Merv made a four-foot drum. I liked the sound of it. It made my whole body vibrate.
“Plywood,” Merv said. “It is how we will make the thunder drum. We will scrape many limbs to this thinness and glue them together as they are bent. This way we can make a large frame that is strong enough to take the tension of the straps. Soon you must make the kill that will provide the hide so it can cure. We need a thick hide.”
We were just eighteen and Mandy had picked up her horse for a ride along the ridge. We planned to take a little trip to Oxėse and had our saddlebags packed. Before we took off for a couple days, though, we had to show Kyle and Ramie the work we’d done on the fences. Kyle had never shown so much interest in our horses. Bells and Bows had definitely become ours. They were a perfect match for our horses in Oxėse. We knew they shared the same bond that Cait and I had with Wolf Rising and Wolf Riding Woman. We wandered over to them and Kyle looked at us.
“It was you,” Kyle said. Only it wasn’t Kyle. I knew for sure someone else was talking through him. “Riding down from the hills with a pack of wolves. I thought I recognized those horses from Kyle’s memories.”
“I killed you,” I said.
“Just as I killed your mother. I am so sorry. I hold you no ill will.”
“Kyle will hate us.”
“I’ll keep this knowledge from him. I can do that. I should thank you. You built the bridge that brought us into this world with Kyle and Ramie.”
“Her too?”
“My wife, Miranda, lives in her. One day you’ll need to tell all… five of us… the story.”
“We have to go, Caitlin,” Phile said. He looked at Kyle and whoever it was that was in him. “We bear you no ill will,” he said. “Thank you for the life you gave to sustain us and make us stronger. I think I can live now.”
“We’ll be back in a few weeks,” I said.
We swung up on our horses and rode for the mountains.
The Family
“You knew! You knew and didn’t tell us!” Miranda shouted at Jason. “Kyle, did you know this?” Kyle shook his head.
“How could you?” Mary Beth asked. “How could you not tell us?”
“That’s the question,” Jason said using Kyle’s voice. “How could I tell you that your children had killed me? How could I ever call your brother and sister murderers? And what right did I have? I killed their mother. There was no more just payment.”
“You’re still carrying the guilt around for that,” Ramie sighed. “You were a kid. You didn’t know you’d been tricked into killing unarmed people.”
“I was older than Wolf Riding Woman and Wolf Rising were when they killed me. They were no more to blame than I was. And you both still carry around the guilt for killing rapists and kidnappers. If we didn’t have that guilt, that burden on our souls, we would be something less than human,” Jason said.
“How’d you keep it from me?” Kyle asked. “I thought we shared everything.”
“I don’t know. I just locked it up tight and didn’t think about it.”
“It’s good to know that we can keep secrets from each other. Not that I want to, but that the possibility is there.”
“Well, now the box is open. Now you know. They thought I was Custer,” Jason said. “But they couldn’t have changed it anyway.”
“How do you figure that?” Ashley asked.
“You all made a big deal out of the fact that when Kyle and I rode into that village for the massacre, those kids had already lived through it. Years before,” Jason said. “According to the way I understand things, it was something that couldn’t be altered. It had already happened for them when I fired the first shot. Well, if that’s true, then the same is true of them. Miranda and I had been dead for over a year and living with Ramie and Kyle for eight months before those kids rode back from the Bear Butte. They couldn’t stop it. It was already an open box.”
“You got to admit, that’s the one thing that’s been consistent for all of us,” Ramie said. “Once the box is open, you can’t change it. I’d say having a living person who held the experience was the same as having the written record.”
“This makes even my head hurt,” Cole said.
“We’d better get some sleep,” Aubrey said. “Don’t know about you, but from what I heard, we need Earth Sister’s day of prayer tomorrow to consider the land.”
Comments
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