Moses wanted to clap, but he held his emotions. A sacred man must always hold his emotions. Even for pissy little men.
The Buick hit a rock that threatened to ram through the floorboard. “Damned godforsaken country. If this wasn’t so lucrative, I’d have told Clayton to shove it. Just can’t figure out why you’re here—Clayton tells me you don’t want any money.”
“He is my friend. And for everything he has done to destroy our friendship, I trust him.”
“Then you trust a snake.” Ellis turned his attention back to driving the game trail.
“There.” Moses pointed to a path leading between two tall buttes, making the area look like a saddle on a pony.
Ellis slowed the car and double-clutched into a lower gear to get them onto the floor of the Badlands in one piece.
“Stop here.”
Ellis stopped the car in a clearing. “This where Clayton’s supposed to meet us?”
“It is.” Though Moses knew better. For the past two years, Clayton had been planning for outside companies to mine uranium in the Stronghold. Moses had known Clayton since that first night of that barn dance fight in Imlay, through all the years of peddling booze to the Oglala, and for promises made, promises broken, promises from Clayton that he’d help the tribe. But hadn’t.
Moses had no illusions about the uranium mining. He’d shown Clayton and Ellis the place where the bad rocks live, and obtained mining permits. And regretted it. He knew Clayton had been biding his time until he could arrange for Moses to be out of the picture. His vision had told him that.
“This isn’t part of the bombing range, is it?”
Moses shook his head. “Used to be. But they have not used this part for over a year.”
As if to call attention to Moses’s statement, the throp-throp-throp of a large aircraft cooking off speed filled their ears as it neared.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
But Moses did. His vision had told him Clayton would be in that bomber. Told him that soon he and Ellis would be left to the winds in the Sheltering Place. And Clayton would roam the Stronghold, roam the place where the bad rocks live, the greatest concentration of uranium in the west lying just feet under the ground. Close enough they would also claim Clayton. Soon.
As the B-17 made its final run toward the car-target, Moses shut out Ellis’s screams. Wakan Tanka accept me in this place. This Oonagazhee. This place where I’ll die and with me, the place where the bad rocks live.
EPILOGUE
The bleachers at the powwow grounds groaned under Willie’s weight when he leaned against them. “Took me long enough to find you here, dark as it is.”
“Quiet this time of night.”
“Can’t argue there.” Willie sat beside Manny and followed his gaze up to the sky. “I like it best when there’s no moon. Makes the Old Ones wink so much brighter.”
Manny turned away and ran his shirtsleeve across his cheeks to dry them. “The Wanagi Tacanku has got one more free spirit up there tonight.”
“I heard Morissa Friend Of All passed this afternoon.”
Manny fought to control the shake in his voice. “I failed her.”
“She knows you did a lot for her and all the others that will come after her here on the rez.”
Manny turned to Willie, giving up hiding his sorrow. “And just what did I accomplish? The little girl is dead and nothing’s been done.”
Willie leaned over and grabbed a pebble. He skipped it across an imaginary pond in front of the bleachers. “Judge High Elk has ordered an investigation of water quality in the Cheyenne River.”
“So he said.”
“And the tribe’s appointed a man to start up a unit to investigate pollution and hazardous complaints on a tribal level. Someone Lt. Looks Twice knows he can count on.”
Manny recognized the smile on Willie’s face, that same smile he had when he bragged that Lumpy had appointed him tribal criminal investigator. “You?”
Willie nodded.
“Guess we won’t be working together on other cases.”
Willie shook his head. “Oh, we’ll be working together again.”
“But I thought you said…”
“I said I was to head up an environmental enforcement unit. But that’s in addition to my criminal investigator duties.”
“Be harder for you to drink, what with all the time you’ll spend working.”
Willie looked down at his feet. “You know about that?”
“I do.”
“Did Lt. Looks Twice tell you I was drinking my way into oblivion?”
“Didn’t have to. It was obvious.”
“Did he tell you I’ve been going to AA meetings in Hot Springs?”
“No.”
“Sometimes when I was supposed to be working?”
“That where you sneaked off to sometimes when I couldn’t get hold of you?”
Willie nodded. “The meetings. Other times to a shrink in Rapid I’ve been seeing for my depression.”
Manny patted him on the back. “Well, between the meetings and the shrink, something’s working.”
Willie smoothed his shirtfront, a starched double-breasted Western shirt. Even in the darkness the faux pearl snaps twinkled. The old Willie was back. “I take things one day at a time now. Lt. Looks Twice is determined to keep me too busy to think about Aunt Lizzy and too busy to backslide.”
Manny caught a shooting star out of the corner of his eye.
“Now all you got to do is patch things up with Doreen.”
“I did.” Willie grabbed his Copenhagen can and pinched a lip full. “Lt. Looks Twice got hold of her and said I’d insisted Janet get into some other line of work away from the rez.”
“So you lied to her?”
“Lt. Looks Twice lied to her. I just didn’t tell her otherwise. Regardless, Doreen thinks I’m a hero for sending Janet packing. And speaking about packing, I see you’ve packed your bags and moved out of my apartment. Going somewhere?”
“Back to Clara’s. After I saw the doc and got on medication for my diabetes, I figure the libido will come sneaking back. We think we’ll be able to make a go of it.”
They sat in silence, Manny’s attention returning to the night sky, wondering which winking star was the little girl from Cheyenne River.
Willie seemed to read his mind. “You know, what you did for the Morissas on Pine Ridge won’t go unnoticed. You brought attention to the pollution here. Doreen and I will one day have children and not worry if pollution or radiation sickness will kill them prematurely.”
Manny nodded, the tears drying, looking skyward. “There.” He smiled and pointed to the Milky Way. “Let’s say that bright one’s Morissa.”
“Sure.” Willie draped his arm around Manny’s shoulder. “Let’s say it is.”
Death Where the Bad Rocks Live Page 33
