“When is the last time you saw Mr. Last Bull?”
She sniffed and took a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her coat. “Can I smoke?”
I looked around the school property for emphasis. “I don’t think so.”
She stuffed the pack back in her jacket. “About a week ago.”
I paused again. “Before the accident.”
“Yeah.”
“And where did you see him?”
The shrug was one I remembered my daughter perfecting at that age. “Where we always meet, at the Buffalo.”
“The White Buffalo convenience store?”
She watched Henry some more and then spoke. “Yeah.”
“Did you arrange a meeting there, or did you just run into each other?”
“Just ran… what you said.”
I nodded and thought about what kind of chance Inez Two Two had in this world and was not overcome with confidence. The Reservation schools were consistently ranked as the worst in the state. The pay scale for teachers wasn’t bad, but the turnover rate was horrific and truancy was rampant; the student dropout point was around sixth grade and wasn’t improving.
“I didn’t know he had a kid.” She continued to watch the Bear. “He told me he couldn’t have kids.” She called out. “I bet you can’t do that again.”
The Cheyenne Nation shrugged, turned from the top of the key, and drained another twenty-five-footer.
Even I was impressed. I looked back at her. “Inez, I doubt that anybody would blame you for the responsibility of that relationship. Clarence is a grown man, and I think it would’ve been his responsibility to know how old you were.”
“I liked his Jeep.”
Henry bounced the ball off the wall and slowly dribbled toward us.
“His car was cool.” There was a trace of a sneer in the next part. “So we took a ride. That’s how it all started.”
I thought about it. “Did he ever take you to the cliffs at Painted Warrior?”
“Yeah, it was one of his favorite places.” She made a face. “Or used to be.”
Henry arrived and stood there flexing his fingers into the ball.
“What were some of his other favorite places?”
She thought about it. “He used to work for one of those Amish guys who’d fallen out with the others and lived down near Birney. The guy did handmade boots and had a cabin on the Tongue River near his place.” The shrug again. “Clarence promised me a pair of boots, but I never got them.”
“Do you happen to remember the boot maker’s name?”
She laughed, and I could sense she was in the act of shutting down. “Stoltzfus, try and forget that one; but they had a falling out and I don’t think Clarence was welcome there anymore.”
“Anywhere else, places where you think he might go if people were looking for him?” I was losing hope. “Anywhere at all.”
She actually smiled. “No.”
The Bear interrupted. “Hey, Inez?” She took her time, turning to look up at him. “You know who the smartest man I know is?” The fingers laced around the ball and he palmed it, one-handed, in my direction. “Him.” The Cheyenne Nation took a few steps back onto the court. “Now he may come on with the ‘just-an-ol’-cowboy routine,’ but when he does that it means the wagons are circling and pretty soon there is not going to be anywhere to go.” He bounced the ball to her, and she caught it. “You and me, we are going to play a game of TALK; you win-you walk, I win-you tell us Clarence’s hiding place. These are the rules-you shoot and miss, it is a letter for me. I have to match the shot to keep the letter. You shoot and make the shot, I will subtract a letter, two letters if I miss. That sound fair?”
She smiled and slipped off her coat, allowing it to fall to the floor. “You’re on, Old Bear.”
“I’ll give you a couple of warm-ups.”
I leaned back to watch and, spreading my arms, rested my shoulders on the next seat level.
Inez threw the ball back to the Bear. “Don’t need ’em.”
Evidently the hook had gone out with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, because after Henry’s graceful arc that hit nothing but net, Inez tossed a brick.
The Cheyenne Nation pivoted with a reverse layup and deposited the ball in the hoop. Again. He caught the ball and tossed it to her. “T. Reverse, left-handed.”
Inez misjudged and bounced the ball off of the underside of the rim, almost crowning herself.
He went to the three-point line again, this time to the far end of the baseline, and sunk another. “A.”
Inez took a deep breath and followed suit, and this time the ball rebounded off the rim.
He continued in his around-the-world venture and paused at the top of the key, raised his arms and, with his thick wrist, flicked the ball and swished another one. “L.”
“Jesus.” I whispered the word before I knew it.
She moved to the same spot, but you could see her enthusiasm was flagging. She shot again, and this time she made it. “Take that, Old Bear.”
Henry gripped the ball and dribbled for a moment, possibly having pity on the kid, but it wasn’t in him and he moved another thirty degrees along the perimeter, took a deep step into two-point territory, and drained another. “Back to A.”
Inez moved to the spot and shot, but this time it jumped off the backboard over to me. I picked up the ball and stood, giving the Bear a good chest-to-chest pass.
Henry moved to the top of the key again and drained it. “L.”
She slumped and slowly moved out to the spot to give the shot a try. “One step?”
“I’ll give you two,” he said, unsmiling.
It was the Cheyenne Nation’s form of charity.
The young woman heaved the ball up to where it bounced off the rim twice and then kicked back off the backboard. He retrieved the ball and casually sunk another hook shot. “K.”
He strolled over to her, slipped his arm around her shoulders, and brought her over to the bleachers, even going so far as to kiss the top of her head. “I guess we cannot call you Inez Two Two anymore.”
She laughed in spite of herself and stooped to pick up her coat. After a moment she turned to look up at me, and I smiled.
“There was a fire lookout tower that he took me to down near Black’s Pond. It was locked up, but he broke the clasp off and we spent the night there one time. Diamond Butte Lookout, I think.”
Henry tucked the ball under his arm. “Anywhere else?”
“Not really; he was always looking for a place where we could, you know…” She turned to me and then back to him. “When he could.”
Henry asked. “Meaning?”
She glanced down and shrugged. “He had problems, down there.”
I threw her a line. “Inez, do you know a man by the name of Artie Small Song?”
Her eyes widened just a bit. “I don’t want anything to do with that guy; he’s crazy.”
“Do he and Clarence know each other?”
“I guess. They had a run-in one time.”
“In all honesty, we’re looking for both Clarence and Artie. Do you have any idea where Artie would be?”
The answer was hard and fast. “No.”
“Is there any chance they would be together?”
“No.”
“You make it sound like they don’t like each other.”
She looked at me, incredulous. “They don’t; when I saw the two of them together they were screaming at each other and threatening to do things, kill each other and shit.”
“And when was that?”
“About a month ago.” She was silent for a while and then took a deep breath. “Can I go now?”
