“I’m looking for Chaske,” Yancey said, then gestured to his two friends. “We all are.”
The young woman looked hard at him. She flicked a nod toward her little boy. “This is Chaske.”
Yancey drew the pouch from his pocket. He knelt before the child. “I have a gift for you from your father, Severin.”
The young woman shook her head. “There’s been some mistake. My son’s father’s name is Yoma.”
“My father’s name was Severin,” spoke the old man from the porch swing. He stood up slowly, reached for a cane, and then made several short, hard-won steps toward them. “My great-grandson here was named after me. I’m Chaske, too.”
Elfie blinked hard, trying to take in the whole of the revelation. She swallowed hard. “Severin was your father?”
“Yes, but he has been dead for many years,” the old man said softly. His eyes began to shine. “I’m afraid he couldn’t have given anything to three as young as you. He gave his life to save my mother long ago.”
“It came to us from a roundabout way,” Yancey explained. He took two steps up to place it in the old man’s weathered palm. “But, I know he’d want you to have it.”
A hard, throttled sob choked out of the old man, as he stared at the item, his eyes full of a tenuous belief. He clutched the pouch to his cheek. “His pouch. I know it. I remember it. So well. Where on earth did you find it?”
“It was given to us to give to you,” Yancey said, smiling. “Let’s say it came from a friend.”
“Thank you,” the old man said, still struggling with tears. “Thank you so, so, so much.”
Elfie heard Yancey utter a few stray words of Lakota, which sounded something like you’re welcome…have a good life…amen.
She and Oliver had walked all the way through the gate again, on the open road to Yancey’s house. Their jeep was parked nearby. Yancey soon joined them.
As Elfie turned to climb into the jeep, she felt a gentle tug on her hair from behind.
“So, Elfie,” Yancey said, with Oliver beside him, “where do you go from here?”
“From here?” she asked, grinning. “I’m going to your place. To take a shower and eat something that doesn’t have to be rehydrated.”
“And afterward?” Oliver asked.
“Afterward, tomorrow or something, I’m hopping on a plane to go back to New Orleans.”
Yancey and Oliver looked at each other. Yancey spoke the soft, uncertain truth, “You are?”
Elfie tapped at his shoulder. “Well, yeah. Somebody has to move my stuff back to South Dakota, don’t they?”
“Back to our place?” Yancey asked, smiling fully for the first time in days.
“Yes, of course. And you two are going with me, you testosterone-bearing men, you.”
Oliver laughed in reply. “Somehow, I knew we wouldn’t get out of the heavy lifting.”
The End
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Jumlin's Spawn Page 11
