The Wind in His Heart

by Charles de Lint

  “This is fun,” Marisa said. “When was the last time we had a real road trip together?”

  Even after the long flight, and then navigating the puzzle of downtown Las Vegas, she was as perky as ever.

  “I don’t know,” Leah said. “Probably going out to Isabelle’s place on Wren Island.”

  “That doesn’t count. A road trip requires an overnight stay.”

  “We did stay overnight. We stayed the whole weekend.”

  Marisa smiled. “True. But it still doesn’t count. It was only a couple of hours to get there.”

  “Well, I remember our first road trip together. Spring break, our final year at Butler U.”

  “Oh God. Daytona Beach. I was there with George.”

  “And I was there with some loser who dumped me for a girl a couple of breast sizes larger than mine, who was happy to show them off at the drop of a hat.”

  “Don’t you mean the lift of a T-shirt?”

  “Yeah, she was the definition of a girl gone wild.”

  They both giggled.

  “I had such bad taste in boyfriends back then,” Leah said.

  “Well, at least you didn’t marry yours.”

  “But you’re happy now with Alan, while I’m an old maid.”

  Marisa shot her a quick sidelong glance.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Leah said. “I’m not getting maudlin.”

  “You’d better not. We’ve still got hours together in this car.”

  “Do you want to listen to some music?” Leah asked.

  “Do you have any Diesel Rats with you?”

  “Now you’re just humouring me.”

  “No, they’re great driving music.”

  “Well,” Leah said. “If you insist.”

  She’d noticed the rental had a USB interface to plug in her phone. She dug around in her purse for her cable to make the connection.

  “I still can’t believe Alan is putting up the money for all of this,” she said as she plugged in her phone and started scrolling through the artists list on her music app. “I’m not nearly as convinced as he is that we’re actually going to find Jackson Cole out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “He’s not,” Marisa told her. “And neither am I. But we believe in you. And we believe there’s a good book here, even when this all turns out to be some elaborate prank.”

  “How do you figure that? Without finding Jackson and proving he’s still alive, the book doesn’t have a satisfying ending. Nobody’s going to care.”

  Marisa shook her head. “You’re selling yourself short. It’s like what Alan said. Fans of the band are going to connect with all the ways that the music and your writing about it have enriched your life. Sure, if Jackson Cole were alive, we’d have a bestseller. If he’s not, we’ll still have an interesting autobiography with a unique take on it. Tons of people grew up with the band’s music. You’re going to articulate what they felt, except on a personal level, and that, in turn, will have a universal appeal.”

  Leah shook her head. The story wasn’t so simple and pretty as either Alan or Marisa imagined. “You should write East Street Press’s cover copy,” she said.

  Marisa laughed. “Who do you think already does that? But I’m serious about this. You’ve had a three-dimensional life because of the Rats. All you have to do is figure out how to put on paper what you feel inside, and you’ve already proven you can do that with other subjects you’ve written about.”

  Leah had pushed shuffle on her phone’s Diesel Rats playlist and “Dig Deep (Look Inside Yourself)” burst out of the car’s speakers. The two women looked at each other and laughed.

  15

  Steve

  I stumble and start to fall forward when the step Calico took lands us on a slope just below the hunting lodge. Calico’s still holding my hand and tugs me back before I completely lose my balance.

  If I were fourteen years old, this would probably be the coolest thing ever. Teleportation. Beam me up, Scotty. But I’m not fourteen. I like my feet firmly planted on the ground.

  “Jesus,” I say to Calico. “Could you give a guy a little warning before you—”

  She cuts me off. “The pack’s almost here. I’m going to lead them off while you deal with Reuben.”

  “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew here. How am I supposed to do that?”

  “I don’t know. Like Morago said, talk to him. Dial it down. Keep him engaged. The pack’s connected and they can talk to each other in their heads. I need Reuben to be too busy to give orders to his dog boys so I can draw them away while you reason with him. Without his control we should be able to pull this off.”

  Pull what off? I wonder. Obviously, I didn’t think any of this through. But before I can protest, Calico shifts like she did when the kids were at my trailer, and an antelope goes springing down the slope.

  The pack comes bursting out from under the trees and she charges right for them, veering aside when she’s just a few lengths away. The pack goes crazy. They surge after her, all except for the dog in the front. He comes to an abrupt stop, turning in the direction of the pack, which is now in full pursuit of Calico. I realize this dog must be Reuben.

  The pack’s connected and they can talk to each other in their heads, Calico said.

  “Reuben!” I yell and go running down the slope toward him.

  It’s enough to distract him and get him looking in my direction. Hopefully, it’s also enough to stop him from communicating with the pack through whatever link they have in their heads. But the distraction only lasts a moment. He sees it’s just me and starts to turn away again. But by now I’m right on him, and then I do either the stupidest or the bravest thing I’ve ever done. I leap onto his back.

  It’s like trying to ride a small tornado.

  He shakes and snarls, canines flashing, so I punch him in the side of the head. I don’t think this is exactly what Calico meant about keeping him engaged or dialing it down, but what else am I supposed to do? Let him take a chunk out of me?

  Except delivering the punch makes me lose my grip and we fall apart. By the time I scramble to my feet, Reuben’s already standing in human form.

  “What the fuck?” he says, rubbing his temple.

  “Hey, I was just trying to—”

  He’s not listening. He takes a swing at me. I duck the blow and move in close so all we can do is grapple.

  “Can we please talk about this?” I say as I struggle to keep him from getting the advantage.

  “I’m done with talking.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I give him a head butt and he stumbles back, dazed. I’m seeing a few stars myself from the blow, but I’ll bet he’s seeing a galaxy. When he takes an unsteady step forward, trying to bring up a fist, I give him a push and he goes down.

  “Don’t get up,” I tell him.

  For a moment, I think he’s going to have another go at me, but then he sighs.

  “Didn’t know you were so hard-ass,” he says.

  “I’m not. I’m just trying to stop you from making a mistake. You go on the warpath and it’s just going to divide the rez again.”

  “Did Morago send you?”

  I shrug.

  “You don’t understand,” he says, “and Morago doesn’t want to.”

  “Seems pretty clear to me.”

  He shakes his head. “Walk away. This is tribal business.”

  “Derek Two Trees was my friend, too.”

  “This isn’t just about Derek.”

  “I get it. It’s tribal business. And maybe it is, in part. But it’s also about you finally sticking it to Sammy.”

  He flashes me an angry look.

  “Don’t pretend it isn’t,” I say.

  “What if it is? Look what he’s done. The lodge, the hotel, that fucking casino. We were doing just fine before he decided we had to be modernized. Except nothing’s really changed, has it? We’re still the second class citizens, except this time he’s made us into card dea
lers and dancers, busboys and hunting guides for the white man.”

  He spits in the dirt. “No offense,” he adds.

  “Yeah. None taken.”

  Neither of us says anything for a moment. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m worrying about Calico keeping ahead of that pack of dogs.

  “So,” Reuben finally says. “You’re saying we should just let that fat banker or stock broker or whatever the hell he is take Derek’s head home and hang it on his wall?”

  “Nope. I’m going to get it back so Derek can have a proper burial.”

  I don’t know where that comes from, but I know it’s right.

  “And I’m going to do it,” I go on, “in a way that doesn’t wind everybody up and start the old feuds picking away at each other again.”

  “It’s something that’s got to be settled once and for all.”

  “I agree. But not now. Not like this.”

  He gives a slow nod. “So instead, you’re going to do it. Your way.”

  “I will.”

  I don’t have to give my word. Among the Kikimi, a person’s measure is taken by how he follows through, not by what he says.

  “Okay,” he says.

  I offer him a hand. He takes it and I haul him to his feet. He cocks his head and sighs. “I called off the boys,” he says. “Not that she needed me to. They were never going to catch her.”

  “Yeah, I get the sense she’s good at that.”

  “Huh.”

  He studies me for a moment.

  “What?” I say.

  “So, you and Calico?”

  “I didn’t see it being anyone else’s business. Still don’t.”

  He shrugs. “Your call. Make sure you deal with Sammy before Derek’s head goes missing.” Then he turns, changes, and it’s a dog that runs off into the forest.

  I watch him go, then look up the slope to where the lights of the lodge are peeping through the trees.

  Was it only a couple of nights ago that my life was pretty much solitary, private and simple? First that kid gets dumped, and now every damn thing I thought was real has been turned on its head. How the hell did any of this happen?

  I blame Possum. He could have told me a long time ago about our camp being on some other astral plane, and how I might meet up with ma’inawo out there, but instead he let the years go by, leaving me in the dark. It’s a little embarrassing that the whole rez knew and was waiting for me to finally twig to what’s been right in front of my face all of this time.

  Calico comes soft-stepping out of the woods and slips her arms around me. She tilts her head back for a kiss and I oblige.

  “I don’t know about the fisticuffs,” she says, “but that was a good job you did distracting Reuben.”

  I step back to look at her.

  She grins. “So are you ready to get this thing done?”

  “How do you know what I told Reuben? I thought you were off being chased by his dog boys.”

  “Can’t a girl be in two places at the same time?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Oh, don’t be sulky. Come on.”

  She reaches for my hand but I take a step back.

  “It’s not so far that we can’t walk there on our own two feet,” I say.

  “Baby.”

  She grabs my hand, moving so fast I can’t avoid her, but when she takes a step up the slope we don’t make some instant transition to the front door of the lodge. We’re just walking through the forest.

  “You know, not everything’s magic,” she says after we’ve been hiking under the pines for a while. “I didn’t hear your conversation with Reuben. I just figured it out, what with you standing there looking up at the lodge and him long gone.”

  I glance in her direction and she gives me a wink. “Or maybe I did.”

  I don’t bother to reply.

  16

  Thomas

  Auntie was sitting on the porch when Thomas pulled Reuben’s pickup into their yard. Santana hopped out of the cab. She slammed the car door closed and three large black birds perched on the banister near Auntie Leila’s chair flew off into the evening air. In the poor light Thomas couldn’t tell if they were ravens or Yellowrock Canyon crows. Santana didn’t seem to notice them. She stopped long enough to give Auntie a kiss and a hug, then went inside. Thomas followed at a slower pace.

  “Ohla, Auntie,” he said. “Talking to the birds again?”

  When he bent down to give her a kiss, she sniffed at him.

  “Huh,” she said. “At least you didn’t run off with her.”

  Thomas straightened up. “Run off with who?”

  “The ma’inawo girl you’ve been stepping out with.”

  “I’m not stepping out with anybody.”

  “Then how come you have the smell of the otherworld on you?”

  There was a smell? Thomas thought.

  “We were delivering a propane tank to Steve and his girlfriend Calico,” he said.

  “Ah, Calico. You be careful around that girl.”

  “She seemed nice.”

  “She probably is. It’s her friends that can be trouble. Deer women and jackrabbit girls. Be especially careful around them.”

  “I will, Auntie.”

  He started to go into the house, but she caught his arm. “Will you do an old lady a favour?” she asked.

  Thomas had to smile. Auntie only ever referred to herself as old when she wanted you to do something for her that you probably didn’t want to do.

  “What’s that?” he asked, keeping his tone noncommittal.

  Auntie glanced toward the house then beckoned him to bend down closer. “You’re a good man,” she said, “taking care of your family when you’d rather be a thousand miles away from the rez.”

  “It’s no burden.”

  She waved that off. “You and I both know what’s true. And we know you like to keep your distance from the traditions of your people.”

  “I’m going to the sweat tomorrow,” he said, not sure why he felt the need to say that. “At Aggie’s.”

  It was enough to distract Auntie. “Have you met some girl? What’s her family?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Why else would you be going to a sweat?”

  “Reuben asked me. He thought I should go.”

  “Huh. It’s because of Reuben I have to ask you this favour. Did you hear about Derek Two Trees?”

  Thomas shook his head.

  “One of Sammy’s white man hunters shot him, up in the mountains.”

  “Is he—is he okay?”

  Auntie shook her head. “He’s dead. They cut off his head as a trophy and brought it back to the lodge.”

  “What?”

  Thomas rocked back on his heels and put a hand on the railing to keep his balance.

  “They didn’t know it was Derek,” Auntie said. “He was in his bighorn shape.”

  “I never knew...” Thomas began, but then he thought of the bighorn aura he always saw settled over Derek’s shoulders like a plains tribe chief’s headdress.

  “That’s terrible.”

  Auntie nodded in agreement. “And now Reuben’s heading up to the lodge with a gang of his dog boys to take the trophy away from them. You know what that means. It doesn’t matter which way it goes, Sammy will be down at the center to confront Morago before the sun rises.”

  Thomas tried to take this all in. “What favour do you want from me?” he asked.

  “Your mother wouldn’t want me to ask you this,” she said, “but I was hoping you’d go down the center to stand by Morago as a sign of solidarity. If Sammy comes down with a gang, Morago will need his own show of force.”

  “You think there’ll be fighting?”

  “I hope not. But that’s why you’ll be there. If Morago has enough men with him, Sammy won’t want to start anything.”

  “And you think Mom won’t want me to—”

  Auntie didn’t let him finish. “This younger Women’
s Council needs to grow a backbone. If they had, Sammy would never have been able to build his casino and everything that came with it. And we wouldn’t have this problem that we have now.”

  Thomas didn’t know what to say.

  “I understand how you feel about our traditions,” Auntie went on. “I’m only asking you to stand with Morago tonight. What he doesn’t need supporting him is a gang of dog boy hotheads.”

  “Auntie, I don’t disrespect the traditions,” Thomas told her. “I’m not ashamed of the tribe or who I am.”

  “You just want to see some of the world.”

  Thomas nodded. Did everybody know? He thought he’d kept this pretty well to himself.

  “All young men need the chance to run in other deserts, not just the one in which they were born. You’ll get your chance. But tonight I ask you to stand with Morago.”

  “Of course,” Thomas said. He straightened up. “I’ll just grab something to eat and—”

  Auntie reached beside her chair and offered him a fat tube covered in foil.

  “A burrito…for the drive,” she said. “It should still be a little warm.”

  “But Mom—”

  “Will only ask you not to go. If you go without seeing her, you won’t have to decide between the wishes of your mother and this old woman.”

  Thomas hid a smile. “Of course, Auntie,” he said. He took the burrito and returned to the pickup.

  “I knew I could count on you,” Auntie called after him.

  Thomas gave her a wave and got back into the truck. As he was pulling out onto the road he looked in his rearview mirror to see his mother step out onto the porch.

  He gave the truck a little more gas, but slowed down as soon as the house was out of sight. He was in no hurry to reach the community center.

  It was a little ironic. He’d spent forever trying to stay off Morago’s radar, and now here he was, on his way to visit the shaman. At Auntie’s request, true enough, but that didn’t change anything.

  But it probably didn’t matter, not the way this day was going. The shaman probably knew everything about him, the same way everybody else seemed to. And if he did, then maybe Morago also knew this Corn Eyes boy was the worst candidate to be an apprentice that he would ever find.