Whispering Spirits

by Rita Karnopp

  He pulled up the bottom of his jeans and jerked free the Velcro, producing a Glock 19 pistol. “I’m trusting you, Summer. Don’t disappoint. It has fifteen rounds. Just so you know, it has a safety mechanism built in the trigger and prevents the gun from firing unless the trigger is completely depressed.” He stretched out his arm and placed the gun in her upright palm.

  “I’d better go back and check on Nah’ah. We’ll probably eat in about an hour…if you care to join us. I know she wants you to go hunting, but I’m hoping you won’t take her too seriously. I’m not too crazy about learning to cook stew or scrape a hide.”

  He liked the sound of her laugh. “Summer, thank you for deciding to talk to me. I’m here if you need anything.” He didn’t expect a response and didn’t get one. He stared out of the tipi opening long after she left.

  Now he wished he’d taken his captain’s advice and had arranged for a team to go with him. If the killer found Summer, how would he be able to protect both her and Nah’ah out here in the wild? What seemed the perfect plan, now seemed the worst scenario.

  There had to be more going on than smuggling artifacts. Someone had taken a shot at Summer and her father. How did that fit into the scheme of things? They were capable of killing; they proved that with Ali and Jordan…and possibly even Derek. Those robberies had all been well-planned. Shooting at a moving car and threatening to kill if they didn’t pull over…just didn’t fit the pattern.

  What was going on? Running Crane dug in his bag and withdrew a knife in a beaded sheath, and strapped it to his leg under his jeans. He had lied to the women about the chopper. The radio had been disabled and the gas tank didn’t hit a tree branch, it had been punctured several times and plugged…lasting long enough to get into the air.

  Who would have known Summer was going on that chopper? Could she be bugged? Running Crane zipped his travel bag shut, placed it between the front legs under the cot, then smoothed out the blanket. A quick look revealed everything in a specific place.

  * * *

  Summer walked back to Nah’ah’s tipi, deep in thought. She felt good having talked to Running Crane and it’d gone better than she expected. A meadowlark sang her trill and her dream came back to haunt her. The young maiden had seemed so familiar…didn’t she look a lot like Nah’ah…only younger?

  A twig snapped and Summer froze in place. She looked around, searching the dark edges. A large, pine tree branch waved as though blowing in the wind. There wasn’t even a breeze.

  Could Jordan’s killer have found them already? Who would know they were here? Her father wouldn’t have told anyone…so who did that leave? Did Nah’ah tell…crap…she would have told all her friends, people at church, and just about anyone who’d ask. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to be discrete.

  Summer hurried, spotting her grandmother kneeling and digging a hole in the ground near the exterior campfire.

  “What on earth are you doing, Nah’ah?”

  “I’m so glad you finished your visit with Nato’sin. I want to show you how to make a great feast with duck eggs.”

  “You gathered duck eggs? When did you do that?”

  “Didn’t you spot the nest just off the shore near the reeds?”

  Summer couldn’t help being impressed with Nah’ah. She missed nothing going on around her. Did she know they could be in danger? “Why did you dig a hole? Aren’t you going to scramble them or make an omelet?” Nah’ah’s scowl told her immediately that wasn’t the case.

  “Take that bladder and pour some water in this hole,” she instructed.

  Summer didn’t argue. After a quick look around, she poured a small amount into the cavity. “Now what?”

  “See those sticks piled to the side? About two inches above the water I want you to make a platform with them. We’ll be putting the eggs on them. Now I want you to dig a small hole next to mine, but make sure you slant it into the bottom of the first hole.”

  “Really? We’re going through all this work and you could get the same results if you just boiled them in water.”

  “We’ll see. That looks good. Now after you put the eggs on the platform I want you to make a tighter platform above the eggs. Very good, Niipo. Now mix some water and dirt and make mud to cover the top platform.”

  Summer wanted to say how ridiculous this whole thing was, but refrained. “I’ve always loved making mud patties.” She laughed and noticed Nah’ah enjoyed the comment. Summer couldn’t help feeling bad she’d been cranky and temperamental.

  “Okay, now you can inch those hot campfire rocks over to the small hole and let them roll down into the water of the larger hole.”

  “I get it. The hot rocks will heat up the water and steam the eggs. It’s primitive but rather clever. I didn’t think the old ones ate eggs.”

  “This is the only time of year our people eat fowl eggs. They would never eat turtles, frogs, or lizards because they are creatures of evil. The Crees, Gros Ventres, Sioux, and even Assinaboines eat dog, but our people never eat them. We believe dogs are our true friend. Napi’kwan says he is our friend, but they turn against us. Our dogs are always true.”

  “I’m going to have to agree with you on that one, Nah’ah. I hope my ancestors didn’t eat snake.” Summer shivered from the thought.

  “No, they would never eat snake. They would not eat grasshoppers, worms, or other insects either. I heard stories that the napi’kwan wasn’t much of a hunter and at times would eat insects and snakes. Most times the white trapper would be spotted not by sight, but by smell.”

  Summer laughed. “You made that up, didn’t you?”

  Nah’ah shook her head. “No, it is true. It was said they smelled as bad, and sometimes worse, than the stinky bear.”

  “I have to admit, the smell of cooking eggs is making my stomach growl. You cook them in the ground like my grandmother?”

  Summer noticed Running Crane attempted to appear relaxed and cordial. He fell short with both. His continual scanning of their surroundings seemed somewhat excessive. “You’re a fan of duck eggs?” Summer asked.

  “Only in the spring. They remind me of days spent with my sister, Pale Star, and my nah’ah. I’d give anything to go back to those days again.”

  “Your grandmother was a very good friend of mine. Alsoomse and I shared many stories, heartbreaks and happiness. I felt great sadness when she went to the Sand Hills. We chuckled many times how the name independent suited her. Your grandfather, Ponoka-mitta did not mind. Actually we laughed often how the name ‘Horse’ suited him, too. Sit down by our fire and join us, Nato’sin. You look as nervous as a horse standing near a rattler.”

  Running Crane laughed. “Summer invited me to eat with you. I was waiting for you to invite me.”

  “You do not need to be invited. While we are here you will share meals with us. I do not expect you to cook for yourself. Now, once we have finished eating I would like you to scout around our tipis. I have a strong feeling we are being watched. That I do expect you to do.”

  “Have you seen anyone?” Running Crane took the plate of steaming eggs from her and scanned the area.

  “I have been hearing whispers we are all in danger. But you are not surprised with this. You both feel it too.”

  Summer stared at Nah’ah. “There are a lot of bad vibes going on here. I’m afraid instead of going where I’ll be safe, I’ve taken us to a place we’re vulnerable. I’ve put you in danger, Nah’ah. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Everything in our world is sacred, including our lives. Each day we thank Ihtsi-pai-tapi-yopa.”

  “What would the creator say about punishment for crimes?” Summer never tasted eggs so good.

  “There were five crimes which the Blackfeet considered necessary to deliver punishment. The penalties attached to them were common knowledge. For murder the rule was a life for a life. The murderer or his relatives might also make a heavy payment. Most times this payment took all his property, leaving him p
oor.”

  “Nothing has changed. If you have money, you can get away with anything.” Summer set her empty plate on a rock. What happened if you were found stealing?” Summer could tell Nah’ah liked being asked about the old times.

  “Theft was simple. The property was returned and that was the end of it. Adultery on the other hand was not so simple. The first time a wife cheated on her husband usually resulted in her nose or an ear being cut off. If there was a second offense the husband could kill her, have a brother or first cousin kill her, or he could have the All Comrades do the deed.”

  “The All Comrades, Nah’ah?” Summer pulled her knees up and rested her chin against them.

  Running Crane cleared his throat. “The I-kun-uh’-kah-tsi were directly under the authority of the head chief. They were like the tribal police force and they would punish others or whatever the chief deemed necessary to keep peace and order among the people.”

  Summer smiled. “I guess that would have been your choice if we were in the old days, huh?”

  “No doubt about it. My father and the fathers before them have always been peace keepers. My grandfather talked about a warrior who was accused of treachery. There was no forgiveness for a member of our tribe to give aid to an enemy. Death at sight was the only law.”

  “What was the fifth crime, Nah’ah?” She felt Running Crane staring at her and she wondered what he was thinking.

  “Cowardice was taken very seriously in the times when a man had to be brave and protect his people at camp or in a war party. If a man would not fight he had to wear a woman’s dress and was not allowed to marry.”

  Summer had her degree in Native American History and knew the answers, but loved hearing her grandmother tell it in her own way. Nah’ah managed to always add a bit of information that wasn’t in the books, but was passed down through the ages in oral history. “Was that it? Weren’t there any other rules that were punishable?”

  “Our people had to rely on each other. It was never about one person. So if a man went off hunting by himself and in doing so he drove the game away, he would be sought out and the All Comrades often whipped him, tore his lodge to shreds, broke his travois, and took all his store of dried meat, pemmican, and other food.”

  “Doesn’t that seem harsh? He should be able to provide for his family,” Summer felt the pressure building in her head. She wished the headaches would stop.

  Nah’ah leaned forward and dropped a few sticks on the fire. “It had to be harsh for the good of all. One thing I do see our young girls do, that is most scandalizing is sitting with their legs crossed in front of them like a man. It is not lady-like and is…wild. If you sit on the ground with your legs off to one side you are a woman of respect.”

  “I’ll try to remember that, Nah’ah.” Summer chuckled, glad she sat on a log and not the ground.

  “Thank you for the delicious eggs, Nah’ah. I’ll go do some checking around and then see if I can get you a deer since, antelope is a bit too gamey.”

  “Be careful, Nato’sin. I do not have a good feeling about our uninvited guests.”

  Summer glanced right, then left, spotting no one.

  “To be honest, neither do I.” Running Crane stood, smiled, and headed back up the trail toward his tipi.

  “If you’d like to settle down for the night, I’ll do the dishes and clean up things here.”

  “That is nice of you to offer. Good thing you did, because I was not going to do the cleanup.” She laughed and slowly got to her feet. “Do not judge Running Crane so harshly. You were but a child when you knew him. It would be wise to give him a chance to get to know you…and you to get to know him. Good night, Niipo.”

  “Good night. I’ll give your suggestion some thought.” Summer laughed softly and watched Nah’ah disappear into the tipi. For eighty she was agile and spirited. She looked barely sixty, if that.

  “Once you finish washing the dishes, you should consider washing yourself. Here is something to change into.”

  Summer took the rolled up towel Nah’ah handed toward her. “Are you saying I smell?”

  “I’m saying you’ll feel better after a refreshing dip in the cool water. It will help you sleep.”

  Summer smiled. “Thank you, Nah’ah.” Once again she disappeared into the tipi.

  Having the dishes washed and the campfire stoked, Summer listened to the hundreds of crickets and various bull frogs. She walked to the edge of the river and listened to the rippling water splashing over rocks and logs. It soothed the pounding in her head. She looked around, then quickly stripped to the skin, piling her clothes on the end of the log, and sank into the deep curve of the river. Nah’ah had been right, it felt extremely refreshing. She inched out of the water and toweled herself dry, then nearly laughing, slipped into a white eyelet sun dress. So, grandmother seemed to be playing cupid. Summer sat on a large rock on the shore and dangling her feet into the water.

  She closed her eyes and thought about her relationship with Jordan. What had she missed? How about the fake eyelash she’d found in the bathroom basket? He’d said it belonged to Joshua’s girlfriend, who stayed over several times. Once they decided to split, those little things ceased to be important.

  Summer searched her memory…how many times had she called him when he’d been working late, and he didn’t answer? He always had an excuse. Late dinner with the guys from the office, meetings with supporters, and the list went on and on. She’d believed him every time.

  Why did he always seem to have a relationship with Joshua, even though he said he didn’t? Weren’t there times she’d call Jordan and thought she heard Joshua in the background? Jordan always denied it. Wasn’t it a week before his murder, she’d been waiting for him at his apartment? Tired of waiting for him, she went to Dukes Bar around the corner. Hadn’t she seen Jordan with Ali? That was it! Summer did see them together…he denied it…but now she was certain of it.

  How long after that did Dee say she saw the two of them together at Duddley’s Bar? Barely a month before he was murdered? Maybe Ali wasn’t Joshua’s girlfriend after all. It hurt to know, even though they had decided to just be friends. He could have been honest.

  “I’m sorry…I don’t mean to intrude on your sorrow…but I really want to talk to you.”

  She quickly wiped the moisture from her skin. “You’re not interrupting my sorrow, Running Crane. You’re interrupting my accountability of what a fool I’ve been.” She slipped from the rock and walked to the grassy hill to where he stood. She sat and wiped her feet dry, then pulled on simple, white flats. “I never realized Jordan was cheating on me. I believed his every lie. We haven’t been a couple for months, just friends. Looking at it from a distance…I can’t believe what a fool I’d been.”

  He sat down beside her. “It’s hard to see what we don’t want to see. I’ve been there myself. It doesn’t make us fools, it just makes us trusting and vulnerable.”

  “You’ve been cheated on?” She looked at him, wondering why she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was before. He’d been blessed with all the best Native features possible. Like many Native men, his hair hung in two, long braids, the bottoms wrapped in sacred red strips. If he was dressed right now in Native clothes, he’d fit in any pictures of the eighteen hundreds, even earlier. A thin, white, leather string held a single bear claw. She wondered if he killed it himself. She wouldn’t doubt it.

  “Either you’re impressed with my bear claw or appalled.”

  She smiled and looked into his deep, dark eyes and it seemed they drew her into them…refusing to let her go. She blinked, then said, “I was just wondering if you killed the bear it came from.”

  “No, this,” he held it up for her inspection, “is a sacred animal helper claw that has been passed down for ages. I’m not too sure how old it is. My father wore it until last year, when he gave it to me. He gave me the middle claw, one on each side of this one he gave to each of my brothers, Terry and Lewis. How come you haven’t asked me abo
ut Terry?”

  “What’s to ask? I understand he’s married and has two sons. I’m happy for him. We were never meant to be together. He wanted…nothing more than to stay on the res and live the simple life. He had no aspirations to improve himself or his people. Maybe he’s changed.” Summer watched Running Crane think over her comment before responding. It was a quality she loved about her people. Something she long forgot…and would work on changing. One should always think before speaking.

  “Terry and I have never been all that close. Lewis and I on the other hand are. He listens and tries to stay out of trouble. He’ll be going to college in the fall…his drive is to help our people for generations to come.”

  “What’s his major?” Summer smiled, happy whenever she heard someone from the res was going to college.

  “He’s going into corporate law.”

  “Really? That’s surprising. How…I’m confused as to why. How can that help the people?”

  “Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. You had great aspirations when we were kids. I remember you boasting how you were going to become a professor and teach Native American History. You were inspired by some movie…what was it? Yes, it was Last of the Dogmen with Barbara Hershey and Tom Berenger. You wanted to be a professor that would share what life was truly like for the Blackfeet and how their world was stolen from them.”

  “How on earth did you ever remember that? I haven’t thought about that in so long. I…also had a love for writing. I could teach about my people, or I could write interesting, exciting stories that showed how life was for the Blackfeet in the eighteen hundreds. I decided I didn’t want to force the knowledge of how life was destroyed by the coming of the napi’kwan…but show it in my stories.”

  “You now have your masters in writing and your bachelors in Native History. Your dream of being a professor will soon come true. Have you decided where you’re going to teach?”

  Summer drew in a breath, then slowly released it. “If you’d asked me that question a month ago, I would have had a confident answer. Now…I’m not certain of anything. I have two offers to consider, but until this murder investigation is behind me, I’m not certain what the future will be.”